The History of Hollandaise Sauce

I have been on a quest recently – to get to the bottom of things. Bread for example. I want to know not just how to make it with store bought yeast, but how to make it if you don’t have yeast or yogurt for sourdough starter. My bread saga is a story for another time, but the point is that I’ve been on the hunt for origins of things, in particular Eggs Benedict and Hollandaise sauce.

I never expected that I would find an actual history of either – it’s hard to find the beginning of a recipe – they are alive with years of innovation, evolution and nuance. Still it’s an interesting journey.

I am no chef, let alone a French chef, and I am no culinary historian. But I’m curious and what I discovered was an interesting tale.

In many ways people’s relationship with food has been founded on access and storage – changes in population density, agriculture, trade and science have arguably been the driving force behind culinary evolution. In the case of Hollandaise sauce, however, there’s an element of philosophy too.

In the Middle Ages food was heavily spiced, not just to mask food storage issues but also as a sign of wealth – spices were valuable and rare and a clear indication of status. In addition, the science of the time, particularly the concept that strong foods could balance humors, further supported heavy seasonings.

Then, beginning in the 14th century, along came the renaissance (beginning in Florence, Italy). The renaissance was partly enabled by a rising middle class and increased trade. Items that were once scarce, and therefore valuable, became more accessible. And, the renaissance gave us Humanism. Among many things, humanism celebrated beauty as a window to the divine and saw existence as an aesthetic exercise. It was in this environment that we begin to see some of the first major changes in culinary history as Italian cooks like Martino of Como began to change the way they approached food.

And what does this have to do with Hollandaise sauce?

Well, in the early 16th century Catherine de’ Medici (of Florence) married the King of France and brought with her an army of Italian cooks. These cooks brought a new perspective to an already well developed national cuisine and helped cement a shift into renaissance-style cooking. But, as I said earlier, cooking is an evolution and cooking in France continued to evolve. In 1651, a groundbreaking cookbook was published - Le Cuisinier François by François Pierre de la Varenne.

La Varenne was one of a group of cooks who codified French cuisine. And that code has five mother sauces, one of which is Hollandaise.

"make a sauce with good fresh butter, a little vinegar, salt, and nutmeg, and an egg yolk to bind the sauce; take care that it doesn't curdle..."

The sauce has gone through many tweaks since then and recipes proliferate… and I’ll add one more to the mix.

My favorite (and fool-proof) recipe for Hollandaise sauce is made in a blender. My sister gave me this recipe and once I made it, I’ve never gone back (except when I didn’t have a blender).

1 stick of salted butter
3 Lg egg yolks
Dash of pepper
1-1 ½ tbsp lemon (or lime) juice

1. Separate your eggs and place the yolks in a blender, add a dash of pepper and lemon (I usually use lime because it tastes FANTASTIC) juice to taste.
   
   
2. Dice the butter into large chunks and place in a small skillet. Bring the butter to a boil over med/med-high heat. The temperature of the butter is important - it needs to be boiling – not insanely, but consistently. It can be hard to see because of the milk solids that will float when the butter melts. Blow across the top of the butter or agitate the skillet gently and you’ll get a better view.
   
   
3. Once the butter is boiling, put the lid on your blender (removing the center piece so you can pour through it) turn it on to a medium speed and SLOWLY SLOWLY SLOWLY pour in the boiling butter. You don’t have to do it a drop at a time, just a nice slow steady stream. The heat from the butter will thicken the eggs and the blender’s speed will avoid any scrambling as long as you pour slowly.

And that’s it. Perfect Hollandaise sauce every time. It makes about ½ to ¾ C.

(Apologies to any historians, philosophers or food historians for the overly brief and reductive nature of this little post, summarizing a journey has its casualties.)