A canapé is the original fast food. Presented on a travelling tray, picked with one’s own champagne-flute-holding hand, enjoyed without the need for clunky cutlery – just one bite’s worth, mastication perfectly and politely synced to the exact moment that your conversation partner happens to be speaking.
A mouthful of a blue cheese gougère? The Gochujang devilled eggs? Old-school pigs in blankets? A delicious, one-hit micro burger, maybe? All dispatched while the eye wanders to the roaming delivery of the next ingestible instalment.
Pretty, tasty, witty mini finger-food delights have been amusing our bouches and catering our cocktail parties since the 1800s – “canapé” from the French word for “sofa”, le mot français itself being derived from the Greek kōnōpeion, meaning “an Egyptian couch with mosquito curtains”.
Food historians believe that the French landed on the gastronomic term because the toppings of spicy fish or seasoned meat perched atop the base like a person sitting on a sofa, although some have suggested that the name simply referred to one- or two-bite, finger-held hors d’oeuvre variants – pearls of caviar and scallion slivers, say – served to guests who were actually seated on sofas (rather than at tables).
But the format, according to tradition, is fixed. Bien sûr, lettuce leaves, choux-pastry hammocks and tiny Yorkshire puddings may be the couches au courant and thus a regular sight on 21st-century party platters, but the classic 1903 cookbook “Le Guide Culinaire” by Auguste Escoffier firmly states that a bona fide canapé must have a bread base, with “perhaps a spread or oil, one main ingredient, and a simple garnish”.
Escoffier, who ran kitchens at The Savoy in London and The Ritz in Paris, set the standard for the modern canapé, citing speed, rigour and culinary imagination as its core attributes. “This method is correct, quick and gives the opportunity for individual artistry in presentation.” We don’t mind if we do…