I love my thrillers, but the problem with many of them is that their heroes and heroines are so busy battling the bad guys that they seldom have the time to eat a long and leisurely meal. Most detectives, I find, make do with just toast and black coffee.
But not Nero Wolfe. This is one detective who loves his food, and quite possibly explains why I love reading Rex Stout. Wolfe is his hero, a New York detective, and Archie Goodwin is his Watson, the narrator. Goodwin wants to sneak out for a drugstore sandwich every now and then, but Wolfe disapproves of such bad habits. He has a chef called Fritz Benner, who conjures up for him the most delicious of meals.
Like hilsa
Here’s one passage that describes Wolfe having his modest breakfast. Goodwin enters Wolfe's room, and finds him propped up against three pillows, “just ready to attack the provender on the breakfast table which straddled his mountainous ridge” under a black silk coverlet. “There was orange juice, eggs au beurre noir, two slices of broiled Georgia ham, hashed brown potatoes, hot blueberry muffins, and a pot of steaming cocoa,” he writes in Over My Dead Body .
Long before Stieg Larsson and the other Scandinavians took over the world of crime, there was Rex Stout writing about his rotund hero. Stout, whose first book was out in 1934, died in 1975. But I have been poring over his books from the time I can recall, as much for Wolfe’s brain, as for the goodies on his dinner table.
Wolfe likes his fried shrimp and Cape Cod clam cakes. And he enjoys shad roe, which should gladden the hearts of Easterners, for the shad that you get in parts of North America is almost like the hilsa.
“Fritz came to announce lunch. That was no time for me to comment or ask a question, with a sautéed shad roe fresh and hot from the skillet, and the sauce, with chives and chervil and shallots, ready to be poured on,” says Goodwin in The Final Deduction .
Wolfe’s fondness for food has been the subject of much debate and literature. It prompted Stout and his publishers to bring out a volume called The Nero Wolfe Cookbook in 1973. The book is a trove of recipes and little passages of delightful food descriptions.
Serve immediately
It mentions several shad roe dishes – including shad-roe mousse Pocahontas, shad roe in casserole without onion and shad roe in creole sauce. For his ‘shad roe aux fine herbes’, keep ready 2 teaspoons chopped fresh chives, 1 teaspoon fresh chervil (or 1/4th tsp dried leaves), 1 tsp fresh tarragon (or 1/4th tsp dried), 1 tsp minced shallots and salt and pepper.
Now blanch two pairs of roe in salted water and simmer for about 5 minutes. Drain and separate the pairs. In a large skillet, heat 1/4th cup of butter, and add the shad roe.
“Cook for a minute on each side over a medium flame, turning them very carefully. Cover the skillet, and reduce the heat. Cook for 10 minutes longer. Remove the roe to a heated platter. Add the remaining butter and the herbs to the skillet, and heat for 2 minutes. Correct the seasoning, and pour over the roe. Serve immediately,” the book states.
At mealtimes, says Goodwin, Wolfe is always expansive, talkative and good-humoured. But in And Be A Villain , Wolfe is uncharacteristically grim once. The meal consists of corn fritters with autumn honey, sausages, and a bowl of salad. “Throughout that one he was grim, sullen, and peevish. Fritz was worried stiff,” he writes. Chef Fritz has this to say in his foreword to the cookbook: “Mr. Wolfe says that the secrets of the art of great cooking, like those of any art, are not in the brain. He says that no one knows where they are.”
I don’t need to know the secrets. I am just happy reading about Fritz’s magic. It makes me want to chew up the pages of Stout’s books.
The writer, who grew up on ghee-doused urad dal and roti, now likes reading and writing about food as much as he enjoys cooking and eating. Well, almost.
