The C.A.M.P. Cookbook. Victor J. Banis

D’OEUVRES

      Fish hors d’oeuvres are very popular, too, although I could never understand why. I never was able to get past the smell. They are very simple though, and you can always handle the little monsters gingerly and wash your fingertips later in lemon juice. This cuts the odor to some extent.

      Any number of fish are available in cans, and all you have to do is drain and serve them. Here’s where style shows up. Serve them nicely arranged on a platter, each atop its own little cracker or piece of toast (strip or square), and garnish the platter with lemon wedges and parsley. Very attractive!

      The kinds of fish that you’ll find available at your market will most likely stagger you if you’ve never checked this department. Some of the more popular varieties for canapés are anchovies, smoked oysters, smoked salmon, and sardines.

      And here’s a little idea for a fish spread. Drain oil from one six- or eight-ounce can of sardines, and blend together with one three-ounce package of cream cheese and one teaspoon grated onion, and a dash of Tabasco Sauce. Continue blending while adding sufficient Rhine wine to soften for spreading. Serve on toast wedges or crackers.

      CHEESE HORS D’OEUVRES

      The simplest way, and quite frequently the most attractive way to serve cheeses, is just to arrange an assortment of them on a tray, with small knives for slicing and spreading, and an assortment of cocktail crackers.

      You may not be satisfied with this after a while, and will want to try stuffing two-inch lengths of celery with softened cream cheese, or scooping out the tops of those tiny tomatoes and stuffing them with a mixture of blue cheese and sour cream, then topping them off with chopped chives.

      Outside of these very few recommendations as to what to do with cheeses in hors d’oeuvres, the best way to get ideas is to pick up those little free recipe books that you’ll see from time to time in the liquor and other stores. I wouldn’t bother too much with the ones by the cheese counter—the liquor people seem to have much more imagination than the cheese people.

      The second best way is to see what other people serve. It’s not usually too difficult to see what’s been put into an hors d’oeuvre, and even if you should misjudge, who knows, you may turn up with a different and even better recipe.

      EGG HORS D’OEUVRES

      If you’ve already used eggs for garnish on another dish, you may not want to consider them as an hors d’oeuvre, but if you do, one of the best is this refugee from the picnic basket. Now I’m just going to give you a basic recipe, and your friends are going to tell you what they put in theirs, as my friends will all be jumping on me (figuratively, of course) and asking me why didn’t you use MY recipe. Because, dear girl, I wasn’t planning on writing an entire book about deviled eggs.

      Hard-boil six eggs, cool, shell, and cut into halves the long way. Remove the yolks and place in a bowl with three-fourths cup mayonnaise, one-half teaspoon dry mustard, one teaspoon chopped chives, and one tablespoon finely chopped parsley. Taste for seasoning and add salt if necessary. Blend well, and stuff into whites and garnish with a dash of paprika. Chill before serving.

      VEGETABLE HORS D’OEUVRES

      Vegetable hors d’oeuvres, you say? Well, we’ve already mentioned the raw vegetable platter at the beginning of this chapter—but there are other little tidbits that should be mentioned in passing.

      Have you tried stuffed artichoke hearts? You can buy the tiny, canned hearts in the delicatessen section of your super market, then stuff them with a seafood salad. Try tuna salad.

      Try the recipe for stuffed mushrooms in the vegetable section of this book—but use mushrooms no bigger than an inch across.

      We’ve already mentioned stuffed tomatoes and celery when we talked about the uses of cheese. But while we’re on the subject of vegetables, I think we ought to include one more dip to offer a contrast to the ones already discussed. That is the bean and bacon dip.

      Combine one can condensed bean with bacon soup with one-fourth cup chili sauce, two tablespoon minced green pepper, one teaspoon minced onion, and one teaspoon Worcestershire sauce. You may serve it as a dip, or spread it on crackers as canapés.

      Eventually you’re going to be graduating from this phase of cooking school and trying all sorts of other marvy things like: Melon au Jambon de Bayonne et au Cointreau, and Shrimp Rémoulade, or Pâté de Liégois—but let’s not even consider that here. There are many other suggestions that too require the use of a blender, grinder, or chopper, and if you have only the basic utensils listed earlier in this book, those aren’t in your possession yet.

      You will encounter people from time to time who will tell you about their favorite ways to prepare eel, squid, and octopus, or snails, rattlesnake, or grasshoppers. If the ideas are not appealing to you, I suggest that you excuse yourself under the pretext that you have to go to the bathroom (which by this time may be no pretext). I only mention them in passing, because if I don’t, someone is going to say, “You didn’t mention so-and-so.”

      CAVIAR

      One thing that I have glaringly omitted is caviar (which I personally put in a category with anchovies and most of the items listed in the last paragraph). All right, we’ll talk about caviar.

      First of all, it’s expensive—that is, if you want the real good stuff, Caspian Sea sturgeon eggs. And if you should serve caviar, it’s just possible that you might have a guest who can distinguish between the real and the imitations. There are many.

      Caviar lovers will not appreciate being served the so-called “red caviar” either. These are salmon eggs, and much looked down upon by connoisseurs. To get good caviar you’re going to have to be ready to pay from twenty-five dollars to seventy-five dollars (or more) per pound.

      Tradition dictates that caviar be served from icy bowls to be spread on buttered thin slices of black bread. All the other gobbledygook came along when caviar crossed the sea.

      Finally, caviar is not an hors d’oeuvre to be served with cocktails. It can only properly be served with icy cold dry champagne. I always find that’s the saving grace at a party where they are serving caviar. I can at least drink the champagne. (Note: it is also fine to serve caviar in the Russian style with shots of icy cold, as cold as you can get it, vodka. But you don’t want to serve too many of these if folks have to walk to the dinner table. VJB)

      One more thing—you may not like caviar, and many of your guests may not like it. Before going to all the expense, it may be well, discreetly, to check your prospective guests’ tastes in this regard. Better than having your favorite potted palm smelling like fish two or three days after the party.

      Now at the other end of the spectrum of entertaining, it is quite permissible, when you are hosting a small group of intimate friends to do something very simple.

      Like, open a can of peanuts and pour them out in a bowl, or a bag of potato chips or corn chips.

      And don’t forget, if your choice of drinks is beer—and there are many people who honestly enjoy beer (I for one)—it’s perfectly proper to serve popcorn or pretzels.