Hungry Blogger

This is another wonderful historical cookbook archived by the Feeding America project.  Victor Hirtzler was the head chef of the Hotel St. Francis in San Francisco, one of the most prestigious hotels (and hotel restaurants) in the country.  His cook book was published by The Hotel Monthly Press in 1919.  

An interesting bit of history is archived here on the Preface, which initially confused me:

"The recipes in my book calling for wine and liqueurs for flavoring may be followed by those whose legitimate supplies are not used up; and where these cannot be had there are non-alcoholic substitutes available with the flavor near perfect."

This seemed cryptic, until I remembered the time when the book was published.  Prohibition had just begun in 1919, and perhaps if chef Hirtzler decided not to edit his recipes to switch non-alcoholic ingredients, it's because he thought that Prohibition wouldn't last.  He turned out to be right about that, of course, but I wonder what kinds of conversations he had with his publisher over that decision!

The Hotel St. Francis Cook Book is organized a little unusually.  Instead of grouping recipes by any sensible means, Hirtzler chose to group them by day and menu.  The book begins on January 1, with fifteen recipes across three meals, including a breakfast that features calf liver and onions (not so great for a hangover I'm thinking), a lunch with cold ham and tongue salad, and a dinner with Squab pot pie a la Anglaise.     

The recipes themselves are more like notes than recipes as I tend to think of them.  For example, the entry for Boiled Whitefish Netherlands Style simply says "Boil, and serve on napkin with small boiled potatoes, lemon and parsley.  Serve melted butter separately."

Other recipes are more verbose, but only barely.

The Hotel St. Francis Cook Book strikes me as something that Hirtzler wrote in order to pass on his legacy and scheduling finesse to his eventual successor.  Presumably that successor would be fairly accomplished with the cooking thing, and would need little in the way of instruction.  Just the odd tip here and there, the little bits of finesse that Hertzler implemented, the things that made his meals for the hotel unique.

Hertzler was a fairly clever with his meal planning, as a close eye can spot.  For example, his dinner for June 8 includes "Broiled egg plant."  And his breakfast for June 9 includes "Omelet with egg plant," which begins with the instructions to "Use any broiled egg plant that may be left over."

Hertzler also gave a lot of thought to his meals, tailoring them to seasonal preferences (I noticed that the breakfasts, for example, are a lot heavier in winter than in summer) and to seasonal ingredients.  It's worth noting that until fairly recently, you had to wait for a vegetable or fruit to be in season before you could use it (much less put it down on paper as the breakfast for that day).  Hertzler must have really known his stuff, if he felt confident enough to put down "Fresh strawberries with cream" for April 5th!

I was a little bit miffed by a recent New York Times article on Seattle's predilection for teriyaki.  Although it tried very hard to keep a straight face, it often expressed a snooty sort of horror, because apparently Seattle likes the wrong KIND of teriyaki.  I can appreciate that the author, John T. Edge, has a very clear idea of what teriyaki ought to be.  But the overall haughty tone was just outright wrong-headed.

Seattle does indeed have a love affair with teriyaki.  When I point this out to people here, they frown in puzzlement.  Seattleites simply don't realize how few teriyaki restaurants there are, once you leave the greater Seattle area.  Edge is correct in that, in noting that teriyaki joints are so common as to have become invisible.

I didn't fully appreciate the ubiquity of teriyaki restaurants in Seattle until I moved away.  I spent a year in Atlanta for a job contract, and I was constantly stymied by the complete lack of teriyaki restaurants.  Sure you could order a few teriyaki items off the menu at a Chinese restaurant, but I'm sure you can appreciate that this is a very different thing from "a teriyaki restaurant."  In fact, as near as I can determine, there are no teriyaki restaurants in Atlanta.  

When I inform a Seattleite of this, they are startled.  In fact, I have had many people insist that I'm joking, that I'm playing a very odd prank, like telling the new kid that there's a pool on the roof of the school and then locking him out.  But I swear it's true!

One thing that confounded me about Edge's article is the amount of time he spent talking about things that are not teriyaki.  He seems to be claiming that Seattleites are such troglodytes that they don't know the difference between teriyaki and anything else.  He starts off by covering two restaurants who serve an ethnic dish which they call "teriyaki" because Seattleites don't know the difference and don't care.

Seriously, people, that's kinda weird.

Edge seems not to have spent any time at a regular teriyaki restaurant.  Which is a little odd for an article that purports to be about them.  He briefly covers the terrible ambiance near the end of his article, but fails to capture the magic.  And I can tell he hasn't been into many cheap teriyaki restaurants because he doesn't say anything about the stack of horrifically out-of-date magazines which can inevitably be found near the cash register or the door, for patrons to peruse while waiting for their teriyaki to arrive.

Edge also overlooks the tradition of the teriyaki salad, which is a confusing combination of iceberg lettuce, shredded carrot, and a dressing best described as "peculiar."  Is it ranch?  Is it Caesar?  It's hard to say - it's white, watery, tangy, and delicious.

And the final tip-off that Edge is unschooled in the way of Seattle teriyaki restaurants: I did not find a single mention of the ubiquitous Styrofoam clamshell container, embossed with a smiley face and "Have A Nice Day" on the top.  Poser!