Is there any more needless a dish than blancmange? At least in the form at which it is the British, and hence, Sri Lankan Burgher, repertoire? Okay, when I was a kid, blancmange was a very useful dessert when I had my tonsils out and the thought of putting anything down my throat was equivalent to asking me to swallow razor blades. I have the distinct memory, in fact, of whimpering for some time in the hospital hours after the operation because the nursing staff had tried to make me eat some boiled rice, and it was thus my mother found me and rounded on the staff and called for some jelly instead.
And yet, I made a blancmange from Ada's recipe the other night and re-discovered it's silky, wobbly, soothing, texture and subtle flavour which makes it perfect to pour fresh passionfruit over and serve up after a curry feast. I went a bit further and added sliced banana and some blueberries, but they were on reflection redundant and only used in case a guest had had the common negative experience of blancmange as a child and wanted to have more than a dribble of passionfruit for dessert.
But like many a blanded-out dish, the history of the blancmange is anything but. Here's what I gleaned about it from The Oxford Companion to Food, edited by the late lamented Alan Davidson.
It's name is an Anglicisation of the French blanc manger, meaning white food, but there it is made with almond milk and gelatin and not milk and cornflour as below. More intriguingly, 'the 14th and 15th century English blancmangers', says Davidson, 'were made of shredded chicken breast, sugar, rice and either ground almonds or almond milk'. The path from this meal of a savoury dish to the trembling milk white moulded dessert of today would be fascinating to trace. It's former incarnation is thought to have derived from the Middle East where it was not uncommon to have a sweet dish based on chicken breast, where, says Davidson, 'chicken was sometimes literally candied'. But the trail of the dish is as cold as a blancmange it would seem so speculation is all that we have.
There is a lovely explanation of how to make 'modern' French blanc-manger here - http://fxcuisine.com/default.asp?language=2&Display=221&resolution=high - which begins with making almond milk, and suggests you need to add cream and hence milk fats to give the blanc manger 'that lush velvety edge'. There's another recipe on this site - http://momsflamingfoods.blogspot.com/2010/04/blanc-mange-almond-cream.html - which also has a lovely blog comment from someone who tried to make it according to the recipe and had a Julie/Julia experience.
Ada's version (in all these blog posts I will give you Ada's recipe as she wrote it, and then my updated version)
1 1/4 oz Brown and Polsons Cornflour, 1 pint milk, 1 oz sugar, pinch of salt, nut of butter.
Mix the cornflour with a of the cold milk - Put the rest to heat with sugar, butter & salt. Add the mixed cornflour, stir till boiling, and boil for 3 minutes. Pour into a wetted mould, or individually molds to set. If any flavouring essence is liked add 1/2 tea spoonful after boiling.
Ada then also gives a recipe for Sweet sauces which is a sort of custard.
Make as for blancmange, but use 2 1/2 level tea-spoons of cornflour, 1/2 pint milk, 1/2 oz sugar & a small nut butter. Serve with baked or steamed puddings or pour over stewed fruit.
So here's my updated version of Ada's recipe
35g cornflour
30g sugar
500ml milk
pinch salt
1tsp butter
Mix the cornflour with a of the cold milk.
Put the rest of the milk, sugar, butter & salt into a saucepan over a low heat.
Add the mixed cornflour, stir till boiling. What should happen is that the mixture should thicken. You keep stirring so it doesn't stick. It's boiling when bubbles start popping in the mixture.
Once the bubbles start, keep stirring for 2 - 3 minutes till the mixture coats the back of a spoon.
Take the mixture off the heat.
If you want to add in flavour, do it now. A 1/2 teaspoonful of vanilla is a good addition.
Pour into a jelly or other mould that has been rinsed and left a little damp.
Let it set in the fridge.
When you are ready to serve it, unmould onto a plate and either pour a fruit sauce over it (I'd avoid any custardy or milk based sauce - it jsut seems like overkill) or fresh fruit, going for something acidic or tartish.
This quantity is enough for 2 people. I make two lots up to fill up the jelly mould I have.
It would be interesting to add in some berries or other fruit to the mixture before you pour it into the mould. You can also add colouring to the mixture, though, as Alan Davidson point out, it's a bit weird to ask for some of the red blancmange.
If I get brave enough, I will make a French almond blancmange and post the results.
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