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Monthly Archives: December 2011

Our Delicious 18th Century Christmas Dinner

26 Monday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, Blancmange, Colonial foods, historic food, period food

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Christmas dinner, plum pudding, roast goose and trimmings

In the weeks leading up to Christmas I posted several articles about 18th century Christmas Dinners and what I planned to make for ours, and I am happy to say the meal was enjoyed very much.  Martin’s only complaint was that there weren’t family and friends here to enjoy it with us. 

The only mistake I seem to have made in preparing this meal was in letting time slip away and getting the goose started a little later than I meant to.  Dinner ended up being served at 7 instead of 6, but Martin said it was more than worth the wait.

The old cookery books insisted that roast goose be served with applesauce, and for a historic foodie the jarred stuff wouldn’t cut it, not on Christmas.  I used Macintosh and Granny Smith apples – a two to one ratio of Macintosh to the Granny Smith – a half cup of sugar, and a half teaspoon of cinnamon.  I cannot tell you how Heavenly this house smelled while that was cooking.

The goose was seasoned with a home-made rub, and yes it is made of period correct ingredients and is based on a period blend.  The saltiness of the rub and the sweet-tart flavor of the applesauce was perfect together.  It was very easy to see why our 18th century counterparts felt so strongly that the two be served together.

My stuffing was made from cornbread, celery, sage, mushrooms, and fresh chestnuts with heavy cream and stock from the goose giblets.  Martin made gravy to serve with that and as usual did an unbelievable job.  Once I had his, I haven’t made gravy since.

The blancmange was perhaps the most delicate thing I’ve ever eaten and the subtle almond flavor was wonderful.  It was like eating a cloud it was so light, yet had just the perfect body for unmolding.  It was definitely something that will be on our table often.

The roasted root vegetables were made with some of the fat from the goose, and since goose is by nature fatty, there was thankfully quite a bit of it to save and use on other special occasions.  Goose fat is divine for seasoning and for cooking and the carrots, baby potatoes, and parsnips benefitted immensely from their dip in the goose fat pool.

Finally, how can you have an 18th century Christmas dinner without plum pudding?  It was absolutely delicious, especially with the orange sauce I made to go with it.  I used a dozen or so period receipts and chose the best parts from each one to make this pudding, and you can bet the farm I’ll be writing down exactly what went into it so that I can make it again as close to the original as possible. 

Christmas plum pudding & sauce

 

I would say Merry Christmas to all, but Christmas has come and gone and won’t be around again until next year, so instead, I’ll say, Blissful Meals, Yall, and hope I’ve encouraged you to try something special very soon.

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Roasted Goose for Christmas Dinner©

20 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Colonial foods, historic food, open hearth cooking, period food

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Christmas dinner, Roast goose

As I said in an earlier post, I am planning a cozy 18th century Christmas dinner, the crown jewel of which will be a golden brown roasted goose served along with the blancmange from an article posted last week.   The following poem is a great lead-in for a post on roasted goose. 

 Roast goose!  Roast goose

Is a thing of beauty as well as use;

As Cook well knows, who has the taste,

To baste—and baste—and baste—and baste,

While he the spit keeps turning,

Above the faggots* burning,

With juice

Profuse

That will soon will produce

The delicate brown

That wins renown,

As well in the country as in the town,

For goose—roast goose.  (1)

When researching a period food I like to document its use as early as I can.  In the case of roast goose, that may be a notation that Abrahams made in a footnote, “Roast goose is named as a dainty as early as the Targum Sheni to Esther”, [Biblical era] followed by Immanuel of Rome’s consideration that Jews were particularly fond of goose in 16th century Germany.  (2)  

 

The ideal age of the goose so that the meat should be tender and flavorful was four months, when it was known as a green goose. 

Early receipts instruct the cook make a stuffing with onion and sage, and, “Applesauce is indispensable with roast goose”.  Sage and onion remained the popular flavor for stuffing well into the 20th century.  (3)  

An 1822 receipt for Forcemeat for Goose instructed the cook to chop very fine about two ounces of onion and an ounce of green sage to which add four ounces of bread crumbs, the yolk and white of an egg, a little salt and pepper, and if approved, a minced apple.  (4)

I found a similar receipt from 1830.  (5)

Goose Roasted.  A stubble goose** should be stuffed with sage and onions, chopped small, and mixed with pepper and salt; boil the sage and onion in a little water before they are chopped, or mix a few bread crumbs with them when chopped; either will render them less strong.  Put it first at a distance from the fire, and by degrees draw it nearer.  A slip of paper should be skewered on the breast bone [to keep it from overcooking].  Baste it very well.  When the breast is rising, take off the paper, and be careful to serve it before the breast falls, it will be spoiled by coming to table flattened.  Serve it with good gravy and apple sauce, in boats.  It will take about an hour and a half to roast. 

That book contained a large number of ways of making goose including the following for Goose (Green) Roasted. 

After a green goose has been well trussed and singed, put into the inside a good bit of butter, mixed with pepper and salt; put it to roast, and baste it frequently with butter.  When done, shake over it some flour and salt, when ready, take out the skewers, lay it on the dish with good gravy under it, and green sauce in a boat; it will take three quarters of an hour to roast.

Sage and onion were standard seasonings but the body of the stuffing was sometimes mashed potato instead of bread crumbs.  Chestnuts were sometimes part of the stuffing as well. 

In 1902, Annie Gregory published a receipt for what she called dressing, that good old Southern word for yummy goodness, which she made with roast goose.  “The dressing should be made of three pints of bread-crumbs, six ounces of butter, a teaspoonful each of sage, black pepper and salt, and an onion chopped fine.”  The drippings were thickened with flour to make gravy.  (6)   

Roasted Goose.  A goose should be roasted in the same manner as a turkey.  It is better to make the stuffing of mashed potatoes, seasoned with salt, pepper, sage, and onions, to the taste.  Apple sauce is good to serve with it.  Allow fifteen minutes to a pound, for a goslin[g]***, and twenty or more for an older one.  Goose should be cooked rare.  – Beecher, Catherine Esther.  (7) 

An 1842 receipt begins with typical instructions for dressing the goose before it can be roasted, however, when your goose comes shrink wrapped from the grocery store these steps are worthy of mention only for their historical merit.  – Chambers, William.  Chambers’s Information for the People.  1842.  Edinburgh.

To Roast Goose.  Pick, draw****, and singe the goose.  Cut off its head and neck.  Take off the legs and wings at the first joint.  The portions of the legs and wings that are left are skewered to the sides.  Stuff with chopped sage and onion, and crumbs of bread, with pepper and salt.  The skin of the neck must be tied securely, to prevent the gravy from running out.  Paper the breast for a short time.  A goose does not require so much basting as fowl or turkey, for it is naturally greasy.  It will require from two hours to two hours and a half in roasting.  It ought to be thoroughly done.  Serve with gravy sauce and apple sauce.  The liver, gizzard, head, neck, feet, and the pinions of the goose, form what is termed the giblets, and compose a good stew or pie.

Mrs.  Giger instructed removing the roasted goose to a hot plate before stirring a little flour into the pan drippings and adding water to make gravy.  It was still served with applesauce.  (8) 

Roast goose wasn’t only eaten at Christmas.  It was the traditional food of Michaelmas, the Feast of St. Michael, the Archangel, on 29 September.   Legend says that those who eat roasted goose on Michaelmas will have money plenty the year round.  A goose killed at harvest time to be consumed for the feast of St. Michael was called a stubble goose because it was killed after the crops were harvested and only stubble was left in the ground.

An old legend says Queen Elizabeth I was eating roasted goose when she received the news of the defeat of the Spanish Armada.  Whether true or not, I think we see that roast goose has been the focal point of holiday dinners for many centuries, and it’s hard to get more traditional than that.  Another slice of goose please!  (9)

*  A faggot was a bundle of sticks used as fuel.  **  A goose for Michaelmas – one eaten at harvest time.  ***  A gosling was a young goose.  ****  To pick a goose is to remove its feathers.  To draw it is to disembowel it.   To singe it means to pass a piece of flaming paper over its skin to remove the bit of feathers that remain lodged in the skin.   Pinions are the tips (first joint) of the wings.

Bib:

1.  Griset, Ernest, Hood, Thomas.  Griset’s Grotesques; or Jokes drawn on Wood, With Rhymes by T. Hood.  1867.  London.

2.  Abrahams, Israël.  Jewish Life in the Middle Ages.  1919.  Philadelphia.

3.  Practical Housekeeper.  Cooking as it Should Be; a New Manual for the Kitchen and Dining Room.  1856.  Philadelphia.

4.  Eaton, Mary.  The Cook and Housekeeper’s Complete and Universal Dictionary.  1822.  Bungay.

5.  Dolby, Richard.  The Cook’s Dictionary, and House-Keeper’s Directory:  A New Family Manual of Cookery and Confectionery.  1830.  London.

6.  Gregory, Annie.  Woman’s Favorite Cookbook.  1902. 

7.  Miss Beecher’s Domestic Receipt Book:  Designed as a Supplement to her Treatise on Domestic Economy.  1848.  NY.

8.  Giger, Emma Alder.  Colonial Receipt Book.  1907.  Philadelphia.

9.  The American Kitchen Magazine.  Vol. 3.  Sept. 1895.

Beyond Catfish: Bass Prepared in a Myriad of Ways©

16 Friday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Colonial foods, historic food, Native American foods, period food, Southern food

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boiled bass, catfish, fried bass

Bass caught on the Coosa River, Alabama, image in public domain.

This article is for my son, Josh, whose main interest in life is fishing bass tournaments.  A while back I posted an article on cooking catfish in the 18th century, so it is only fair I give this long-time favorite a worthy mention. 

Long before casting reels and “catch and release” Native Americans were catching bass and eating them.  The famous Naturalist, William Bartram, penned an account published in 1791 of the Natives in the South catching largemouth bass by bobbing hooks from a long pole. 

The experience of watching Native Americans bob fishing, or dapping, from a canoe for bass occurred in 1760, 31 years before Bartram’s book was published.  Most agree that the fish he erroneously called a trout was in fact a bass. 

 

Cook Book with recipe for Boiled Bass and Fried Bass

Two people are in a little canoe, one sitting in the stern to steer, and the other near the bow, having a rod ten or twelve feet in length, to one end of which is tied a string line, about twenty inches in length, to which is fastened three large hooks, back to back. These are fixed very securely, and tied with the white hair of a deer’s tail, shreds of a red garter, and some parti-colored feathers, all which form a tuft or tassel nearly as large as one’s fist, and entirely cover and conceal the hooks; that are called a “bob.” The steersman paddles softly, and proceeds slowly along shore; he now ingeniously swings the bob backwards and forwards, just above the surface and sometimes tips the water with it, when the unfortunate cheated trout [sic] instantly springs from under the reeds and seizes the exposed prey.

Natives were no doubt eating bass and other fish well before Bartram’s experience.  Soon after arriving in the New World Europeans followed their example and bass and other fish took their rightful place on their tables.  A book on the early settlers of Massachusetts has an account of explorers passing wigwams and a house where a man sat eating boiled bass with no bread.  The travelers partook of the bass and then resumed their travels [1630].  – Young, Alexander.  Chronicles of the First Planters, or, The Colony of Massachusetts Bay 1623 to 1636.  1846.  Boston.

Another 17th century account of eating bass may be one of the earliest receipts for making it.

Their homony consisted of corn broken in a mortar and boiled.  Their samp was whole corn hulled by scalding water, a little impregnated with lie.  Their nokehike was corn parched and pounded.  Suckatash was composed of corn in the milk, [fresh corn, not dried] and green beans – a very palatable dish.  The broth of a boiled bass-head, thickened with homony, was called upaquontop.  – Williamson, William.  History of the State of Maine:  From its First Discovery, A.D. 1602 to the Separation, A.D. 1820, Inclusive.  1832.  Hallowel.

TheHistoricFoodie making hominy in the Creek village at Ft. Toulouse

In Providence, RI, in 1836, a recreation of an Indian banquet was staged to celebrate 200 years of settlement.  The following account is much the same as the previous one as to how the fish was eaten.

An Indian mat being spread out, a large wooden platter well filled with boiled bass graced the centre, supported on one side by a wooden dish of parched corn, and on the other by a similar one of succotash.  – Stone’s Life of Howland, p. 262, quoted in John Russell Bartlett’s A Glossary of Words and Phrases Usually Regarded as Peculiar to the United States.  1859.  Boston. 

A cookbook published in 1840 told the cook to season the bass with salt and pepper, stuff it with bread, one egg, marjoram and parsley, minced fine, with salt pork and four ounces of butter, bake an hour, and when done pour over it melted butter; served with stewed oysters.

That book also contained a receipt for Pickled Bass, similar to today’s ceviche.  Boil sea-bass till done, lay in a dish, put some allspice and pepper into some vinegar, let it come to the boil, and pour over the fish.  To be eaten cold.  – Economical Cookery.  1840.  Newark, NJ.   

In 1842, a dinner prepared for Charles Dickens at the City Hotel in New York included Boiled Bass with caper sauce on the Bill of Fare. – Delmonico’s:  A Century of Splendor.  1858.  NY. 

In Marion Harland’s book, the cook was instructed to fry bass to a light golden brown in a mixture of half butter and half lard taking care not to over-cook it.  “The fashion affected by some cooks of drying fried fish to a crust is abominable.  Fried bass are a most acceptable breakfast dish”.  – Common Sense in the Household:  A Manual of Practical Housewifery.  1871.  NY.

Other writers agreed with the merits of fried bass for breakfast because it turns up quite often.

Charles Lanman’s Bill of Fare in hunting camp (1856) would make anyone’s mouth water:  Boiled salmon with oyster sauce, fried bass, lobster, fried trout, pork chips, cold ham, boiled shoulder of pork, new potatoes, string beans, Windsor beans, carrots, beets, snipe and plover, and blueberries and raspberries. These men never heard the admonishment to “pack light”.   – Adventures in the Wilds of the United States and British American Provinces.  1856.  Philadelphia.

Isaac Homans thought the “upper classes” may not have eaten fish as often as they should and considered fish to be lighter of digestion and healthier than meat.  “…they might enjoy, at least more often, real luxury in a dish of common broiled cod-fish and potatoes, a broiled mackerel, a fried bass, or a smoked herring.”  – Hunt’s Merchants’ Magazine and Commercial Review.  1852.  NY. 

Olive Green outdid herself with the number of ways she offered for preparing bass – a whopping 45 receipts!  It was fried whole, fried in fillets, stuffed, stewed, broiled, baked, &c., and served with bacon and a number of sauces.  – Green, Olive.  How to Cook Fish.  1908.  NY & London.

The receipt that turns up most often in cookery books prior to the 1920’s is Fried Bass with Bacon.  About the only thing that varies from one book to another is the quantity of bacon served up with the fish.  Oscar of the Waldorf was among those who thought one slice of bacon per fish made a simple but nice presentation while others offered several rashers of crispy bacon. 

Wash, scale, and carefully clean the bass, season well with pepper and salt, roll them in flour and let them lie in it until ready to be cooked, then drop into a pan of very hot lard and fry until nicely browned.  Then fry in a separate pan four slices of streaky bacon; one piece for each piece of the fish and lay the slices of bacon one on each piece of fish.  Garnish with parsley and serve with mashed potatoes. 

Oscar included in his book a fairly simple receipt for stuffed bass would also make a stunning presentation.  A stuffing made from bread crumbs, spices, eggs, butter, lemon, salt, pepper, and a little water was stuffed into the fish, the fish was sewn closed, and then artfully baked.  – Tschirky, Oscar.  The Cook Book by “Oscar” of the Waldorf.  1896.  Chicago.

 When I was growing up, the only way we ever had fish was fried.  The writer mentioned earlier would have scolded us for turning out “abominable” fried fish that was cooked too long, but no amount of experience in the kitchen has changed my outlook on how long to fry it.  I still want it fried deep brown and crispy, with a squeeze of lemon and a slathering of tartar sauce.  I like the idea of serving bacon with it because, after all, everything is better with bacon.  Until my next post, Blissful Meals, Yall & a Merry Christmas to all. 

Blancmange©

15 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Blancmange, Colonial foods, historic food

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blancmange

Blancmange mold

Blancmange is one of the easiest period dishes to make and is an excellent dish for someone who wants to add a touch of traditionalism to the holiday meal.  For those more creative, try making a layered dessert by refrigerating layers of colored gelatin and blancmange in the mold and perhaps garnishing with fresh fruit.

Middle Ages blancmange usually included pounded capon or chicken breast and sweetened almond milk, but by the 1700’s the chicken was forgotten. 

Receipts from the 18th century have the cook to discard the almond solids after the “milk” has been strained.  Blancmange is basically a thickened gelatin made with milk.  The French term was blanc mangier.  It got its white color from the milk used in it unless it was colored with some substance such as spinach juice, cochineal, or saffron. 

A popular shape blancmange mold

Blank Maunger. XXXVI. Take Capouns and seeþ hem, þenne take hem up. take Almandes blaunched. grynd hem and alay hem up with the same broth. cast the mylk in a pot. waisshe rys and do þerto and lat it seeþ. þanne take brawn of Capouns teere it small and do þerto. take white grece sugur and salt and cast þerinne. lat it seeþ. þenne messe it forth and florissh it with aneys in confyt rede oþer whyt. and with Almaundes fryed in oyle. and serue it forth.  – The Forme of Cury, 1390. England.

[The cook was to boil a capon, grind the meat in a mortar and put it into a pot.  Rice was to be cooked with it along with white grease, sugar, and salt.] 

The following receipts for blancmange will show the various substances used over the course of several decades to thicken the mixture and then we’ll conclude with a strictly modern version anyone can make. 

In 1844, Lady Charlotte Campbell Bury’s receipt book offered the cook the choice of using hartshorn [initially ground horn of a male deer, or hart, later ammonium carbonate also called baker’s ammonia] or isinglass.  Ms. Parloa’s receipts for blanc-mange include a version thickened with Irish moss instead of gelatin which she said was the best sort.  Blancmange was still being thickened with Irish or Carragheen moss into the 1890’s.  – Bury, Charlotte, Lady.  The Lady’s Own Cookery Book.  London.

Into the last quarter of the 19th century blancmange was still thickened with ground rice flour and with arrow-root or cornstarch as well as some of the thickeners already discussed.

I tried to purchase some Carragheen moss the last time I was in Scotland, but the store had none in stock.  I was there for an extended period of time, but time moves slowly there, and they still had not placed an order to replenish their stock when I left to return home. 

Richard Briggs’ book [1788] contains versions thickened with calves foot jelly and with isinglass, as does John Mollard’s in 1802.  

BLANCMANGE.  Mollard, John.  The Art of Cookery Made Easy and Refined.  1802.  London.  Put a pint of warm cleared calves foot jelly into a stewpan; mix with it the yolks of six eggs, set it over a fire, and whisk it till it begins to boil.  Then set the pan in cold water and stir the mixture till nearly cold, to prevent it from curdling, and when it begins to thicken fill the shapes.  When it is ready to be served up dip the shapes in warm water.

AMERICAN BLANCMANGE.  The Ladies’ New Book of Cookery.  Sarah J. Hale.  1852.  NY.  Mix 2 oz. of arrow-root in half a pint of cold water; let it settle for a quarter of an hour; pour off the water and add a table-spoonful of orange or rose water; sweeten 1 quart of new milk; boil it with a bit of cinnamon, half the peel of a lemon, and 4 laurel or bay leaves; pour the boiling milk upon the arrow-root, stirring it all the time:  put it into the mould and turn it out the following day.

BLANCMANGE.  Bishop, Frederick.  The Wife’s Own Book.  1856.  London.  Take one ounce of picked isinglass, boil it in a pint of water with a bit of cinnamon till it is melted, add three quarters of a pint of cream, two ounces of sweet almonds, six bitter ones blanched and beaten, a bit of lemon peel; sweeten it and stir it over the fire.  When it boils, strain it and let it cool, squeeze in the juice of a lemon, and put into moulds.  It may be garnished according to fancy. 

Irish Moss or Carrigan BLANCMANGE.  Peterson, Hannah Mary Bouvier.  1870.  Philadelphia.  Soak half an ounce of the moss in cold water for a few minutes; then withdraw it, shaking the water from each sprig, and boil it in a quart of milk till it attains the consistency of jelly, and sweeten to the taste. 

BLANC-MANGE WITH GELATINE.  Parloa, Maria.  The Appledore Cook Book.  1880.  Boston.  Soak a box of gelatin in cold water enough to cover it one hour.  Put three pints of milk in a tin pail, and set in a kettle with hot water; when the milk comes to a boil, stir in the gelatin and two spoonfuls of sugar.  Flavor with vanilla or lemon, strain into blanc-mange moulds, and when cool, set on ice to harden.  Make this, if possible the day before it is to be used.  Serve with sugar and cream. 

Corn-starch Blancmange.  Allen, Horace.  1883.  Philadelphia.  One quart of milk, four tablespoonfuls corn-starch, wet in a little cold water; three eggs, well beaten, whites and yolks separately; one cup of sugar, vanilla or other essence, and one saltspoonful salt.

1st.  Heat the milk to boiling.  2nd.  Stir in the cornstarch and salt, and boil together five minutes.  3d  Add the yolks, beaten light, with the sugar, and boil two minutes longer, stirring all the while.  4th.  Remove the mixture from the fire, and beat in the whipped whites while it is boiling hot.  5th.  Pour into a mould wet with cold water, and set in a cold place.  6th.  Eat with sugar and cream.

BLANC-MANGE, Gesine Lemcke.  Desserts and Salads.  1911.  NY.  Boil 1 quart milk with 6 Tablespoonfuls sugar; add 1 ounce gelatin which has been soaked in a little cold water for 15 minutes; stir this over the fire until gelatin is dissolved; rinse out a form with cold water, sprinkle with sugar, pour in the blanc-mange and set it on ice; swerve with vanilla sauce.

BLANCMANGE, modern version.  1 pint of milk, 1 pint of heavy cream, 4 oz. caster sugar, 1 ¼ oz. of unflavored gelatin, ½ oz. sweet almonds, blanched, and crushed into a paste, the zest of 1 lemon, ¼ tsp. almond extract.             Put the milk into a pan with the gelatin and lemon zest.  Add the almonds and almond extract.  Allow the mixture to come to a boil, stirring so it doesn’t scorch.  As soon as it boils, strain the mixture.  To the liquid milk mixture, stir in the cream and stir until it cools.  (Placing the pan into a sink with ice cubes speeds the process).  Let the mixture stand for a few minutes while you prepare a mold.  Very lightly coat the mold with vegetable oil or spray with cooking spray.  Pour the mixture into the mold, and refrigerate until firm. 

Vanilla Blancmange

SOURCES:  Isinglass:  Available from amazon.com in powder form.  Irish moss:  Amazon.com.  Unflavored gelatin:  Knox gelatin is available from grocery stores.  It can be purchased in bulk through Amazon.com.

COLONIAL ERA FOODS: RAT-TAILED RADISH©

14 Wednesday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Colonial foods, historic food, period food

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radish pod, rat-tail radish

There is a very detailed account on the internet of the history of the rat-tailed radish, claiming it to have been introduced into England from Java in the year 1815.  The author of that blog also claimed the pods were “introduced” to the public with information about their history and culture during the International Horticultural Exhibition in London in 1866. 

I’m sure, Mr. Bull, did actually present the radish pods at the Exhibition, but the idea of eating radish-pods certainly was not new at that time.  Any radish, if left to bolt and go to seed, will produce an edible seed pod.  The length the pods can attain before becoming tough and stringy varies between species.  There are varieties which are grown strictly for their seed pods and produce no root other than a skinny little tap-root too small to harvest.    

John Evelyn said in his Acetaria, published in 1699, that, “seed pods of this root make a pretty sallet”, and in so doing, may be one of the earliest accounts of pickling edible radish pods.  – 1699.  London.

seed packet, rat-tail radish

In his blog, Ivan Day says he was asked to identify the plant depicted on a silver tureen held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, and his answer was that it was the rat-tailed radish.  The tureen was made for the Duke Albert Casimir of Sachsen-Teschen and his wife who died in 1822 and 1798 respectively.  At best, his identification places the rat-tailed radish in European gardens prior to 1798.  At worst, the plant depicted on the tureen is another very similar type of edible pod radish which the rat-tail may have been bred from.  Either way, the edible pod radish, one species or another, was being grown and eaten during the 18th century. 

Batty Langley in his, New Principles of Gardening published in 1827, instructed his readers as to the culture of radish pods.  His account is for the ordinary kitchen radish which, if left to bolt and make seed, will produce edible pods, but they are smaller than the varieties of radish which are grown for the pods rather than the roots.   

The stalks are round, of a reddish and pale green colour, divided into many small branches, at whose Ends spring forth small light purpled colour’d Flowers, each consisting of four leaves only, which are succeded by sharp pointed pods, seemingly puft or blown up, and full of a spungious or pithy substance wherein is contained the seed…Their Parts for Use.  The Seed Leaves, and Roots when as large as the thick part of a common Tobacco Pipe, and the Seed-Pods make a very fine Pickle.  The Quantity of Seed-Leaves, in a Sallet of small Herbs, ought to be three times the quantity of any other; and for the Radish Roots, they may be eaten at Pleasure. 

In 1830, John Towers left us with instructions to leave some plants in the original beds; by which means seed could be procured for the next year’s plantings by harvesting the seed pods of the common radish.  Indeed, many of the receipts which instruct in the pickling of radish pods may be using the pods formed on the common kitchen garden radish, but there accounts which seem to indicate there were varieties grown purely for their pods much earlier.  – The Domestic Gardener’s Manual.  1830.  London.

The best known variety of radishes grown strictly for their pods is the rat-tailed radish.  In 1871, a gardener said it had been introduced, “a few years hence”, which seems to agree with the date of the Exhibition in London.  He described a radish which produced a, “large bush”, which although he gave no idea of the plant’s height, would seem to be at least two feet to be likened to a bush.  He thought it rather curious and suggested every gardener grow a few in pots or warm sheltered areas outdoors.  – Loudon, John.  The Horticulturist.   1871.  London.

Accounts of the size of the pods were hugely exaggerated, some claiming them to be up to 2 to 3 feet in length.  They will grow to 6 inches long and more, but should be harvested while young and tender.   A gardener dispelled the rumors as to size of the pods while helping establish that it was grown in England. 

I told them that more than fifteen years ago some of the seed of this plant had been sent me by a relative from India.  It grew like a weed in the gardens of friends in Cornwall and Hertfordshire, to home I sent some, was soon voted a nuisance, and Raphanus was eradicated.  – Hardwicke’s Science-gossip.  Vol. 3.  Dec. 1, 1867.

In 1858, a plant labeled, “Raphanus caudatus of Linnaeus”, was exhibited at the Edinburgh Botanical Garden and set off a wave of differing opinions as to its origins and history and whether or not the so-called rat-tailed radish was a completely different species from that classed by Linnaeus.  Of special note, is the fact that whether it was the true rat-tailed variety or not, a species with seed pods much longer than that of the common radish was available during the career of Linnaeus who died in 1787. 

The same writer who brought up Linnaeus claimed the Madras, or Edible Pod Radish was introduced into France by M. Courtois-Gerard.  – Barry, Downing, Smith, Mead, Woodward, and Williams.  The Horticulturist, and Journal of Rural Art and Rural Taste.  1853-1874. 

One gardener wrote he was surprised to find, “an old Salad plant that I had not seen for years, namely, the rat-tailed Radish.  It used to be grown in most gardens thirty years ago.  Its long, rat-tail like pods when young taste much like Radish and are excellent for summer salad and a good substitute for Radish in hot weather when it is often difficult to have these latter in good condition”.  – The Gardener’s Chronicle.  Sat. March 30, 1907. 

Several mid-Victorian receipt books inform the reader that string beans and radish pods are good pickled together.  The longer pods of radish somewhat resemble green beans when picked young before they become tough and fibrous so they complement each other visually as well as in flavor.

A variety of vegetables, primarily peppers and cucumbers, were pickled after being stuffed with a mixture of various spices.  The process was known as mangoes or “mangoing” the vegetables.  Radish pods were sometimes included in the mixture packed into the vegetables.

The following receipts should show that edible seed pod radishes deserve a place on the 18th century dinner table. 

TO PICKLE PEPPERS.  Make a filling for the peppers of grated horseradish, mustard seed, small radish pods, chopped cabbage, and salt; cut the stem and the seed out of the pepper.  Fill the peppers with this mixture and tie the stem part on tight; pack them closely in a stone jar, and cover them with cold vinegar.  – La Fayette, Eugene.  Professor La Fayette’s French Family Cook Book.  1885.  London, Chicago, NY.

TO PICKLE RADISH PODS.  Gather your Radish Pods when they are quite young, and put them in Salt and water all Night, then boil the Salt and Water they were laid in, and pour it upon your Pods, and cover your jars close to keep in the Steam, when it grows cold, make it boiling hot, and pour it on again, keep doing so till your Pods are quite Green, then put them on a Sieve to drain, and make a Pickle for them of White Wine Vinegar, with a little Mace, Ginger, Long Pepper, and Horse-radish, pour it boiling hot upon your Pods, when it is almost cold make your Vinegar twice as hot as before, and pour it upon them, and tie them down with a bladder [old way of sealing crocks or jars].    – Raffield, Elizabeth.  The Experienced English House-keeper, for the Use and Ease of Ladies, House-keepers, Cooks, &c.  1769.  Manchester.   & Farley, John.  The London Art of Cookery, and Housekeeper’s Assistant.  1787.  London.

The preceding receipt was published in The Lady’s Magazine Or Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex, May 1775, London, which also contained a receipt for Piccalillo similar to John Farley’s. 

While John Farley’s receipt for pickled radish pods was taken from Elizabeth Raffield’s book, he did offer an additional receipt for using radish pods.

INDIAN PICKLE, OR PICCALILLO.  Take a cauliflower, a white cabbage, a few small cucumbers, radish pods, kidney-beans, and a little beet root, or any other thing commonly pickled.  Put them into a hair sieve, and throw a large handful of salt over them.  Set them in the sun, or before the fire for three days to dry.  When all the water be run out of them, put them into a large earthen pot in layers, and between every layer put a handful of brown mustard seed.  Then take as much ale allegar as you think will cover it, and to every four quarts of allegar, put an ounce of turmeric.  Boil them together, and pour it hot upon your pickle.  Let it stand twelve days upon the hearth, or till the pickles be all of a bright yellow colour, and most of the allegar sucked up.  Then take two quarts of strong ale allegar, an ounce of mace, the same of white pepper, a quarter of an ounce of cloves, and the same of long pepper and nutmeg.  Beat them all together and boil them ten minutes in the allegar.  Then pour it upon your pickles, with four ounces of peeled garlic.  Tie it close down. 

PICKLED RADISH PODS.  Make a pickle strong enough to bear an egg, with spring water and bay salt.  Put your pods into it, and lay a thin board on them to keep them under the pickle.  Let them stand ten days, then drain them in a sieve, and lay them on a cloth to dry.  Take as much white wine vinegar as you think will cover them, boil it, and put your pods in a jar with ginger, mace, cloves, and Jamaica pepper.  Pour your vinegar boiling-hot on them, cover them with a coarse cloth three or four times double, that the steam may come therough a little, and let them stand two days.  Repeat this two or three times.  When it is cold, put in a pint of mustard-seed, and some horse-radish, and cover them as directed.  – Carter, Charles, Gentlewoman.  The London and Country Cook; Or, Accomplished Housewife.  1749.  London.  & Glasse, Hannah.  The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy.  1784.  London.  & verbatim in Collingwood, Francis.  The Universal Cook and City and Country Housekeeper.  1792.  London.

An 1866 receipts for Indian Pickle and Universal Pickle are significant in that they say the cabbage and cauliflower will be ready for pickling at the same time, and that the other ingredients (radish-pods, French beans, gherkins, small onions, nasturtiums, capsicums, chilies &c.) are to be added as they are harvested.  Later additions were to be wiped down in vinegar and added to the jar as they were picked.  – Beeton, Isabella.  How to Dine – Dinners and Dining.  London. 

ADDITIONAL BIBLIOGRAPHY: 

Borella.  The Court and Country Confectioner; Or, The Housekeeper’s Guide.  1770.  London.

Graham, William.  The Art of Making Wine from Fruits, Flowers, and Herbs.  1775.  London.

Drake, Carl.  Studies in Hemiptera.  Dissertation.  1920.  University of Ohio.

Martin, Sarah.  The New Experienced English House-keeper.  1795.  London.

Christmas Dinner in Days Past©

09 Friday Dec 2011

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Christmas dinner

Peter Claesz, Still Life with Peacock Pie, 1627

Christmas dinners have been worthy of penning for history since the days of noble tables set for hundreds of persons and the dishes that consistently were placed upon those tables are worthy of note today.  While the dishes themselves changed over time the one thing that has remained constant is the appreciation of tradition.

Henry II’s [1133-1189] table was graced with dishes of cranes while Henry III [1207-1272] purchased 20 salmon, “to be put into pies”.  “The sammon, king of fish, fills with good cheer the Christmas dish”. 

In 1398, Richard II [1367-1400] supposedly had 2,000 oxen roasted for one Christmas feast.  For another, the following recipe was used to make a great pie to grace the Christmas table.

Take a pheasant, a hare, a capon, two partridges, two pigeons, two rabbits, bone them and put them into paste the shape of a bird, with the livers and hearts, two mutton kidneys, forcemeats, sage balls, seasoning, spice, catchup [could have been made with walnuts, mushrooms, peppers, etc. – tomatoes weren’t yet used], pickled mushrooms, filled up with gravy made from the various bones.

Edward III’s [1312-1377] table was set with blanc-manges, tarts, pies, and rich soups of brawn [boar’s flesh] and capon [an emasculated rooster].

The English nobility often employed French cooks whose specialties included “jellies [gelatin] of all colors [and flavors] in all figures – flowers, trees, beasts, fish, fowl, and fruit”.

Wine was spiced to taste, and cinnamon, grains of Paradise, and ginger also scented the various desserts.

By this time boar’s head emerged as a standard Christmas dish.  The boar’s head was pickled, boiled, or roasted and laid in a great charger covered with a garland of bay and served with a lemon in its mouth and with mustard. 

 

Boar's head, blanc-mange, &c.

It was not unusual to roast the heads of various animals or make them into soup and some countries continue this tradition today. 

 “Brawn is probably as old a Christmas tradition as boar’s head”. 

Peacock was the next Christmas dish – the skin was carefully scraped off with the plumage adhering.  The bird was roasted and when done it was sewed up again in its feathers, its beak gilt, and sent to table.  Sometimes the whole body was covered in gold leaf and a piece of cotton soaked in spirits and lighted before it was carved.

English writers noted that the turkey graced English Christmas tables from the time it was introduced into England from the Americas about 1524.  Throughout history swans, bustards [European game bird akin to the crane or plover], fat capons, goose, and roast beef have all delighted those partaking of the Christmas dinners. 

 

Roast Goose

Plum pudding evolved from rich plum porridges often served at breakfast.  As it became increasingly thicker with the passing of time it eventually was of a dense enough texture to stand alone as a dessert.  It has been included in cookery books since the 1600’s. For Christmas it was traditionally adorned with a sprig of holly and sometimes served with alcohol poured over it and set ablaze. 

Plum Pudding

Following the plum pudding, the next to join the exalted Christmas fare were minced or shred pies and frumenty.  Mince pies were sometimes called Christmas pie. 

“Every family against Christmas, makes a famous pie, which they call ‘Christmas pie’.  It is a great nostrum; the composition of this pasty is a most learned mixture of neats’ [beef] tongues, chicken, eggs, sugar, raisins, lemon, and orange-peel with various kinds of spicery.  – The Christmas Book:  Christmas in the Olden Time, It’s Customs and Their Origin.  1859.  London.

Frumenty was an important part of the Christmas dinner.  It was made of wheat boiled in broth with almonds, milk, yolks of eggs, and sweetened with sugar. – Cassel’s Household Guide.  1881.  London.

A poem written in Queen Elizabeth I’s time [1533-1603] informs us that following the boar’s head, which was sometimes soused and served on a silver platter, came great Christmas pies containing turkey, geese, various sorts of game and small birds with pork and mutton.  Such pies are still served “in the North [of England]”, though of much less size than olden times. 

…there is no notice of turkey and chine [pork containing the backbone]; none of the more famous roast beef which is now the chief dish at Christmas dinners.  In fact, they did not achieve their proud position until the fifteenth century, at which time, the poets and others begin to speak of them as commonly sent to the Christmas table.  Modern writers [Victorian era], however, frequently fall into the error of representing them as pertaining to the earliest feasts.  [A practice that continues, unfortunately.]

The Puritans [16th & 17th centuries] so spurned any semblance of finery that they banned Christmas customs and celebrations in New England.  The following generations, however, realized that there was no sin in wanting to provide the best one could for their family and loved ones on such a special and holy day as Christmas, and the Christmas dinner as we know it began to evolve as Puritanism faded away. 

In 1845, Thomas Hervey remembered the Christmas described in Samuel Pepys’ diary in 1668, and was thankful the days of Puritanism had long given way to openly celebrating the holiday in ways not so different from today.

Pepys wrote, “1668, Christmas-day.  To dinner alone with my wife; who, poor wretch! Sat undressed, all day till ten at night, altering and lacing of a noble petticoat; while I, by her, making the boy read to me the life of Julius Caesar and Des Cartes’ book of Music.” 

Everyone has their Christmas traditions, the little remembrances that tug at the heart strings and take us back to happy times with family and loved ones.  Wives have put a great deal of thought and preparation into making the Christmas dinner as beautiful and tasty as possible since the last days of Puritanism. 

Christmas dinner of old, as penned in the mid-Victorian era, still included some dishes foreign to today’s reader:  “Men may talk of country Christmasses, their thirty pound buttered eggs, their pies of carp’s tongue, their pheasants drenched with ambergris [a fat obtained from the whale], the carcases of three fat wethers [a castrated ram – like the rooster, emasculating the animal rendered the flesh more tender for the table] bruised for gravy, to make sauce for a single peacock; yet their feasts were fasts, compared with the city’s.”

Hervey went on to describe with joy the festivities of the “modern” [1845] holiday.

It is like that of all the other Christmas nights.  The blazing fire, the song, the dance, the riddle, the jest, and many another merry sport, are of its spirits.  Mischief will be committed under the mistletoe bough,–and all the good wishes of the season sent round under the sanction of the wassail-bowl.

The focal point of the Christmas dinner which Hervey so joyously wrote of was the turkey, born to grace Christmas tables decorated with candles and greenery gleefully gathered from the woods, the act of which was known as “bringing home Christmas”.

The custom of Victorians contributing to the Christmas dinner of those less fortunate was known as “Going a Gooding” and the basket used to transport the food was the Christmas basket.

We have an account of one such basket given to a widow with two small children which indicates the dishes which may have been considered the most traditional for Victorian Christmas dinners.  It contained a chicken, a plum pudding, four pies, bread, and some cakes.  – Thayer, William Makepeace.  Merry Christmas.  A Christmas Present for Children and Youth.  1854.  Boston.

Whatever your traditional Christmas fare, may it be a delight of fragrance and flavors, and a blessing to all who partake of it.  Blissful meals and Merry Christmas to all.

The History of Gingerbread, Part II©

06 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Colonial foods, Gingerbread, historic food

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gingerbread

Cries of Paris, Gingerbread Seller

 Chaucer mentioned gingebreed (gingerbread) in his writings in 1386, however, he gave no description of the product.  As with early versions, his experience was probably with that made from honey, spices, and breadcrumbs or ground almonds.   

In Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books, Gyngerbrede was made:  Take a quart of hony, & sethe it, & skeme it clene; take Safroun, pouder Pepir, & throw ther-on; take gratyd Brede, & make it so chargeaunt that it wol be y-leched; then take pouder Canelle, & straw ther-on y-now; then make yt square, lyke as thou wolt leche it; take when thou lechyst hyt, an caste Box leaves a-bouyn, y-stkyd ther-on, on clowys. And if thou wolt haue it Red, coloure it with Saunderys y-now. Austin, Thomas. Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery Books. Harleian MS. 279…and Harl. MS. 4016. London, 1888. Early English Text Society, Oxford Series, No. 91.

What did we just read?  Old English aside, this basically translates into bread crumbs combined with honey, spices, and saffron.  Such products were more candy-like and less gingerbread-like than we know today.

In old London, gingerbread was sold in stalls at all times of year.  It varied in form from that of a cake to bars which were sliced, or it was made into nuts and sold by the dozen.  Charles Carter’s version [1749] in “long rolls or cakes” was copied later by Elizabeth Moxon in 1764. 

Designs were sometimes stamped into the cakes as evidenced in John Murrell’s version penned in 1621.  “Roule it in round cakes and print it with your moulds…”.

Wooden gingerbread mould

While George Read’s book contained one receipt in 1854 in which “nuts” were made by encasing an almond in gingerbread dough, the term generally meant simply gingerbread baked into small balls [Frederick Nutt, 1790] or rolled and cut into rounds.  Eliza Leslie instructed the cook to flour the hands and roll small pieces of dough into “little round balls”.

The selling of gingerbread in markets and stalls was a lucrative profession in former times.  “In the days of the early Georges, for instance, gingerbread was hawked about by a smartly dressed lad…but older folk were also employed.”

As will be shown later, George Read agreed with men selling gingerbread, but there were accounts of women who worked as gingerbread sellers.  By 1614, Ben Johnson had included the character of a gingerbread seller into his play, Bartholomew Fair.

“Joan Trash, the gingerbread woman, crying her ‘Fine gilt gingerbread!’  The last refers to the custom of painting the top in fine gold leaf, a custom that, “we do not see” by the 1870’s.    – Chatterbox.  1876.  Boston.   

Although it had been the custom for decades by then, in 1822 cooks were cautioned that, “…the use of this poisonous material [gilt] for gilding gingerbread and sweetmeats cannot be too much reprobated”.  – One Thousand Experiments in Chemistry. 

Having established the making and selling of gingerbread as a profession in Britain and America, let’s note that the same was true of France and Germany.  In 1878, when the treat had fallen slightly out of favor in the markets of London, it was noted to still be as popular as ever in those two countries.  – The Lancet.  Aug. 31, 1878.

The gingerbread seller has been illustrated in books and magazines from London and Paris attesting to the frequency with which the treats were sold. 

Some dealers took the gingerbread fresh and hot from the oven, wrapped it in heavy cloths, and took to the streets to sell it while yet warm from the oven. 

In 1854, George Read claimed the origins of gingerbread were Asiatic or Eastern because, “…the natives of these countries are extremely fond of sweetmeats and spiced bread”.  An appreciation of a delicacy doesn’t necessarily mean that culture was the first to make and enjoy it, and he did proclaim it to be universal though, carried to excess”, in Holland.

Those who wished to ingratiate himself with a family often depends in no small degree, on the quality and quantity of presents which he makes in gingerbread.

The many references Read made to the making of gingerbread inferred it was made by men.  “The receipt for it descended from father to son as an heirloom and was kept secret outside the family.”

The British also appreciated gingerbread and Read claimed lovers often made presents of gingerbread nuts and “fairings” to their mistresses and children would spend their last penny on gingerbread made into the shape of a, “horse, cock in breeches, or old man and woman”.  Of the three, the only shape that became universal was the man and woman.

There is a myth, or let’s say at least, that I found no first hand documentation to back up the story, that the first gingerbread men were made for Queen Elizabeth I. 

Shakespeare penned a line about spending one’s last penny in the world to buy gingerbread in Love’s Labour Lost.  Wouldn’t it be rather romantic to think of him presenting his wife, Anne Hathaway, with a gift of gilt gingerbread?

The receipts Read gave were intended for commercial use although one he described as, “an old receipt”, [old in 1854] might be a quantity practical enough for family use as it kept rather well.  He acknowledged that it was not fermented with yeast, as was bread, and the means of “gasifying” it was of comparatively recent origin. 

Take refined sugar, 6 lbs.; damask rise water, 3 pints, or enough to make a syrup of it, of the same consistence or thickness of treacle, which keep for use.  Take ginger, coriander seed, caraway seed, of each, in fine powder, 2 oz.; fennel seed, aniseed, each, in fine powder, 1 oz.; cloves, in fine powder, 1 oz.; mix them well together in a mortar which reserve.  Take of the former syrup 1 quart, of the reserved powder 2 oz. (more or less, as you would have it to taste of the spice); fine wheat flour, 3 quarts, or so much as may make it up into a pretty stiff paste; roll it out into thin square cakes and so bake it.  This exceeds all other preparations of gingerbread whatsoever.

The color of the gingerbread ranged from golden brown to dark brown depending on the quality of treacle or syrup used in making it up.

When gingerbread first contained a substance to make it lighter and therefore softer, the transformation was the result of the addition of pearl ash or potash.  Keeping the dough some time before baking it gave the leavening agent time to act with the treacle producing carbonic gas.  It was a slow process.  Carbonate of magnesia and soda were also in time, and produced a product lighter and spongier than that made with potash.  – Read, George.  The Complete Biscuit and Gingerbread Baker’s Assistant.  1854.  London.

The following should invoke interest among my readers since Christmas is looming on the horizon.

GINGERBREAD CAKES – Richard Briggs.  1788.  [The English Art of Cookery] Rub one pound of butter into three pounds of flour, one pound of sugar, two ounces of ginger beat fine and sifted, and a large nutmeg grated; then take a pound of treacle, a gill of cream, make them warm together, and make up the bread stiff, roll it out, and make it into thin cakes, or cut it round with a tea-cup or glas, or make it into nuts, or any form or shape you please, put it on oven-plates, and bake it in a slack oven. 

In 1867, a receipt was published for a pound cake flavored as gingerbread which was probably lighter than anything in Read’s repertoire. 

Pound Cake Gingerbread.  One cup of sugar, two cups of molasses, one of butter, one cup of buttermilk or sour cream, four cups of flour, four eggs, a tablespoonful of ground ginger and one of cloves, a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in hot water, and half a teaspoonful of cream of tartar poured in last of all.

There were no further directions given with the recipe for how it was made.  – Barringer, Maria Massey.  Dixie Cookery; or, How I Managed my Table for Twelve Years. 

Barringer’s Light Gingerbread instructed the cook to mix the soda into the molasses and then mix with the remaining ingredients.  I would suggest doing so with the pound cake.  Mix the cream of tartar and spices with the flour.  Cream the butter with the sugar and eggs.  Mix the soda with the molasses, and add it to the dry ingredients with the buttermilk or sour cream.  The soda could also be mixed with the buttermilk instead of the molasses as the maker prefers.

Historic Foods: The Evolution of Gingerbread©

05 Monday Dec 2011

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Mid-19th century diets changed little from the Colonial era, and many foods were so basic as to hardly need a recipe for their preparation.  They were prepared in a simple straightforward manner by the average housewife or servant. 

 

Gingerbread is one of those enduring favorites.  It was made in thin crispy forms resembling cookies and referred to as “snaps” and it was made in a cake or bread-like form which was very similar in flavor, but much lighter in texture.  The method of preparation was based to some extent on the preferences of the family eating it, but more likely on the preferences of the women baking it.

 

John Evelyn included Ginger Bread in his manuscript of cookery receipts penned in the 1640’s.  His receipt is typical in that it is difficult to tell from the title whether it is the cookie-like creation, or flavored sweet bread.  Close inspection of the instructions reveals it to be the former and similar to what would evolve into the ginger-snap. 

 

Take 2 pound of the best flower and 3 quarters of a p[ound] of sweet butter break it small into the flower then put in a pound and halfe of sugar finely beat and two ounces of Ginger  beat and sifted the yolks of 4 Eggs the whites of 2, 3, or 4 spoonfulls of sack and as much Ale yest as will make it into a pretty stiffe past if you have no yest it dos as well with eggs only, 7 or 8 halfe the whites will wett the ingredients work into the past a qr. Of a p[ound] of greene citron as much candyed Orenge cut in small bitts then role it into long roles or round Cakes as you please just as they are going into the Oven wash them over with a feather dipt in the yolk of an egge beaten, so bake them.

 

William Penn’s wife, Gulielma kept a Cookery book while living with her husband in Pennsylvania which was transcribed in 1702.  It contains the following recipe for Ginger Bread.

 

Take 3 pound of treckell * and as much flouer as it will need, mingle with the flouer a ¼ of a pound of beaten ginger, and a qr of Coraway Coriander and Anis seeds, a Littell brused and 3 grated nutmegs ½ a pound of sugar, then make it into a stife past, and beat it with a Rouling pinn, to make it Lite, it must bee baked in tinn pans which must bee a Littell buttered, as sone as thee take it out of the oven just dip it in to scalding hot water, and put it into the oven againe, and Lett it, If thee hast any oring or Lemon peele slice sum very thin in to the treckell 3 or 4 days before thou makest the ginger breed.

 

Mrs. Penn’s receipt will produce a cookie-like product from the addition of flour sufficient to roll it out to a stiff paste.  Like Evelyn’s product it is felt best when flavored with orange or lemon peel, but unlike Evelyn’s Mrs. Penn’s is flavored with treacle, also known as molasses, which gives gingerbread the characteristic flavor we recognize today.  Mrs. Penn’s spelling still has the old English appearance, but has become more in line with current standards. 

 

In addition to the ginger, her product is also flavored with ground caraway, coriander, and anise seeds which may have been, to some extent, a personal preference, and not necessarily indicative of the average recipe of that era.

 

In 1770, Harriott Horry set about keeping a receipt book from her home on a South Carolina low country plantation which is typical of books from that era in its contents.  She offers the following recipe for Very Good Ginger Bread.

 

Take one quart Molasses, 3 quarts Flour, a large spoonful of Butter, 2 ozs. Ginger and  2 ozs. China Orange Peel dried and finely powder’d.  4 Eggs whites and Yolks-half a pound of Sugar and some Allspice.  Mix all these ingredients well together with 2 or 3 spoonfulls of good yeast.  Work it up well and role it out and bake it on tin, first Buttering the sheets.  You may add 2 ozs. Carraway seed finely powder’d.

 

Mrs. Horry’s receipt is similar to Evelyn’s in that she still uses candied orange peel to flavor the gingerbread, and it still uses yeast for leavening along with the eggs.  Her recipe, like Mrs. Penn’s, is flavored with both ginger and allspice, and she offers the option of additional flavoring with ground caraway seeds.  Her product remains cookie-like in texture, and, like Mrs. Penn’s, benefits from the characteristic flavor of molasses.

 

In 1805, a group of ladies in Deerfield, Mass produced a small book of cookery receipts which was reprinted and sold as a fund-raising project in 1897.  Because it was compiled by more than one author it reflects the tastes of all those who contributed, and by the number of recipes for gingerbread it is obvious this was a standard in the kitchen of each of the ladies involved with the project.

 

The gingerbread recipes include Mollie Saunder’s Upper Shelf Gingerbread, Sugar Gingerbread, Cream Gingerbread, Great Grandmother’s Gingerbread, Soft Gingerbread, Buttermilk Gingerbread, and Ginger Snaps. 

 

Between the date of Mrs. Horry’s book and this one we see the inclusion of the familiar term ginger-snap.  Each of the above recipes instructs adding flour until stiff and rolling except for Cream Gingerbread and Soft Gingerbread.  From the amounts of liquid and flour used in these two recipes we see that they were intended to be a softer more cake-like product.

 

The 1841 Good Housekeeper written by Sarah J. Hale contains four recipes for what she terms hard and soft gingerbreads.  For the hard version she instructs working it well, rolling out, and baking on flat pans, and for the soft version she instructs baking in a quick oven half an hour.  In comparing the amount of liquid to dry ingredients it is apparent the latter was a cake-like product.  The hard version contains no molasses, but the soft version does. 

 

Hard Gingerbread – Rub half a pound of butter into a pound of flour; then rub in half a pound of sugar, two table-spoonfuls of ginger, and a spoonful of rose water; work it well; roll out, and bake in flat pans in a moderate oven.  It will take about half an hour to bake.  This gingerbread will keep good some time.

 

The 1858 Inquire Within also contained both hard and soft versions of gingerbread.

 

Gingerbread Snaps.  One pound of flour, half a pound of treacle, half a pound of sugar, quarter of a pound of butter, half an ounce of best prepared ginger, sixteen drops of essence of lemon, potash the size of a nut, dissolved in a table-spoonful of hot water. 

 

To Make Gingerbread Cake.  Take one pound and a half of treacle, one and a half ounces of ground ginger, half an ounce of caraway seeds, two ounces of allspice, four ounces of orange peel, shred fine; half a pound of sweet butter, six ounces blanched almonds, one pound honey, and one and a half ounces carbonate of soda, with as much fine flour as makes a dough of moderate consistence.  Directions for Baking it:  Make a pit in five pounds flour, then pour in the treacle, and all the other ingredients creaming the butter; then mix them all together into a dough.  Work it well, then put in three quarters of an ounce tartaric acid, and put the dough into a buttered pan and bake for two hours in a cool oven.  To know when it is ready, dip a fork into it, and if it comes out sticky put it in the oven again; if not, it is ready.

 

By this time the directions have evolved in style to at least the precursor of what we recognize in today’s cookbooks.  The product is flavored with the characteristic molasses and ginger, and raised with the equivalent of today’s baking powder – potash and carbonate of soda. 

 

Still no specific temperature or time table is given for the baking because this varied from kitchen to kitchen and with the peculiar circumstances pertinent to any given day of preparation – humidity, outdoor temperature, quality and temperature of flour, freshness of the eggs, type of wood used in the fire, etc.   Food preparation through the end of the century depended more on the skill of the cook than in the recording of specific directions because none of these factors were as of yet controllable.

 

For the Civil War soldier, welcome was the box from home containing the almost indestructible ginger snaps.  Some thought the spices in the cakes discouraged insects, and since the ginger-snaps just became harder as they aged, they kept well for extended periods of time.

 

The 1879 recipe for Sponge Ginger-Bread from Buckeye Cookery and Practical Housekeeping has the advantage of more detailed instructions in mixing the batter, and more reliable results using baking soda rather than earlier forms of leavening.  The ingredients have evolved into the standards we expect in modern recipes.

 

One cup sour milk, one of Orleans molasses, a half cup butter, two eggs, one teaspoon soda, one table-spoon ginger, flour to make as thick as pound-cake; put butter, molasses and ginger together, make them quite warm, add the milk, flour, eggs and soda, and bake as soon as possible. 

 

The 1900 Picayune’s Creole Cookbook offers cake-like Ginger Bread which is risen using soda and baking powder, sweetened with molasses, and flavored with ginger and cinnamon.  The instructions say to pour the batter into well-greased shallow tins and use a broom straw to test for doneness when baked approximately 40 minutes.  

 

By 1923 another milestone has passed in gingerbread making – the practice of adding coffee to gingerbread batter is evidenced in one of the recipes found in Holland’s Cook Book. 

 

Coffee Gingerbread.  Beat together ½ cupful butter, 1 cupful molasses, 1 egg, 1 teaspoonful ginger, 1 teaspoonful cinnamon and ½ teaspoonful cloves.  Mix and add 1 cupful strong coffee and 2 ½ cupfuls flour sifted with a teaspoonful soda. 

 

For further reading see Victoria’s Home Companion; Or, The Whole Art of Cooking by Victoria Rumble.  The book may be ordered from the blog.  Blissful Meals & Happy Holidays.

 

Frog Legs©

02 Friday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Colonial foods, historic food

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frog legs

On June 25, 2007 the Discovery Channel did a piece on frog legs that were discovered in pits in Kutna Hora-Denemark, a fort outside of Prague.  Because the bones found were almost exclusively the hind legs the archaeologists at the Institute of Archaeology of the Academy of the Science of the Czech Republic ruled out natural causes or the frogs being caught and consumed by larger animals.  From that discovery we know that frogs were being consumed as early as the Neolithic period. 

The frogs could have been simply gathered directly from the pond, or…other more specialized methods could have been used, such as ground traps during their migration or by fishing on a line and hook. – René Kyselý wrote in the Journal of Archaeological Science.

They could not determine how the frogs were prepared.

The first published recipe for frog legs may be that of Francis Peter LaVarenne in 1653.  – The French Cook. 

Frog legs are one of those things that can be expensive if you buy them, or a free dinner if you catch them yourself, and they were prepared in so many ways it’s hard to imagine anyone that couldn’t find a recipe they liked.

Their popularity has waxed and waned throughout the centuries, once something only the French had enough sense to eat, or resorted to in times of scarcity as during the American Civil War.  By the turn of the 20th century many cookery books contained recipes for them, and some contained several. 

Olive Green’s cookbook contained 27 ways to prepare frog legs.  At the risk of sounding like Bubba extolling the virtues of shrimp in Forrest Gump, they were fried a L’Anglaise and a La Francaise, they were baked, and broiled, they were fricasseed four ways (white and brown), four ways stewed, with Hollandaise, and a la’ Provencal, you could have Au Beurre Noir, or a La Poulette and that in a couple of ways, then there was frog leg patties and a La Creole for a change of pace.  – Green, Olive.  How to Cook Fish.  1908.  NY & London.

Both the bullfrog and the green frog hopped on edible legs.  While the French and Americans wanted nothing to do with any part other than the legs, the Germans ate all the muscular parts of the frog. 

The hind-legs of large frogs are the only parts used; the bodies are separated in the middle, and the legs are skinned.  The flesh of the legs is white, very tender, and somewhat resembles that of poultry.  After the frogs’ legs are skinned, wash them well in cold water, put them over the fire in salted boiling water, and boil them for five minutes; then throw them into cold water to cool.  This process is called blanching, and msut always be done if the flavor is to be considered.  After the frogs’ legs are blanched, they may be fried or broiled according to any of the recipes for frying or broiling fish, or stewed in a white sauce.   Corson, Juliet.  Miss Corson’s Practical American Cookery.  1886.  NY.

In Canada and the middle states in the U.S., frogs were kept and fattened on farms and comprised the bulk of the city markets.  American patrons could purchase them in the markets already skinned and ready to cook.  In the wild, frog legs could be harvested the year round, although some felt they were at their finest between June and October.  – Everyday Housekeeping:  A Magazine for Practical Housekeepers.  July 1896.

There were 23 frog farms known in southern Florida in the 1930’s, with enough being consumed in Louisiana to warrant Rayne being known as the Frog Capital of the World.  St. Paul and Minneapolis were labeled, “the largest frog markets in the world”, in 1904.  In 1903, those two cities alone were reported as selling 500,000 dozen pairs.  They sold for 35 to 50 cents per dozen in restaurants.  – Our Paper.  April 16, 1904.

The greatest demand for frog-legs exists in the larger cities and comes largely from hotels and restaurants.  – Ibid.

The hind legs alone are eaten.  They may be broiled or made into a white or brown fricassee, seasoned with mushrooms or tomato ketchup.  The flesh is delicate, and resembles that of tender chicken.  – Centennial Committees Women’s Centennial Committee.  National Cookery Book.  1876.  Philadelphia. 

In the days when Catholics did not eat meat on Fridays, the Church’s stance was that because the frog was aquatic in its habits and cold-blooded it was considered with fish and, therefore, permissible.  – Heuser, Herman.  Catholic University of America.  The American Ecclesiastical.  1919.  Philadelphia.

FRIED FROGS.  Frogs are usually fried, and are considered a great delicacy.  Only the hind-legs and quarters are used.  Clean them well, season, and fry in egg batter or dipped in beaten egg and fine cracker-crumbs, the same as oysters.  – Gillette, Fanny.  White House Cook Book.  1887.  Chicago.

FRIED FROG LEGS.  6 pair frog legs, 1 cup milk, 1 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper, 1/2  teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon grated onion, 1 egg

Boil frog legs with salt, pepper, and onion.  Make a batter of flour, milk, and egg.  Dip frog legs in this and fry until brown.  Serve with cream sauce or mayonnaise.

FROG LEGS A LA POULETTE.  6 pair frog legs, 1 wine glass sherry, 1 cup cream,    1 Tablespoon flour, 1/2 cup butter, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 cup mushrooms, 1 pod pepper, 1/2 teaspoon minced parsley, Twelve pieces of toast cut into triangles

Boil frog legs with just enough water to cover them.  When tender add mushrooms, cream, flour, butter, parsley, salt, and pepper.  Just before serving stir in sherry and serve on toast. – Stanford, Martha.  Old and New Cook Book.  1904.  New Orleans.

CREAMED FROG LEGS.  Use the hind legs.  Separate the legs at the joint.  Drop in boiling salted water, and cook three minutes.  Remove and simmer in enough milk to cover till the meat is thoroughly cooked and tender.  Salt and pepper the milk to taste, and thicken with flour, adding enough butter or thick cream to give richness to the dish, in the proportion of a tablespoon of butter to four sets of legs.  The Home Cook Book:  A Collection of Practical Receipts by Expert Cooks.  1905.  NY.

The Roast Beef©

01 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by thehistoricfoodie in 18th century cooking, 18th century food, 19th century food, Colonial foods, historic food, open hearth cooking

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pot roast, roast beef

“There are 7 chances against even the most simple dish being presented to the mouth in absolute perfection.  For instance a roast beef –

  1.  The meat must be good
  2. It must have been kept a good time
  3. It must be roasted at a good fire
  4. By a good cook
  5. Who must be in good temper
  6. With all this felicitous combination you must have good luck, and
  7. Good appetite – the meat and the mouths which are to eat it must be ready for action at the same time.”

 Hannah Peterson filled her The Young Wife’s Cook Book with such gems of wisdom.  Roasting beef is a handsome and toothsome way to serve it, but for those who hadn’t the more expensive cuts, braising it made even the toughest beef fork tender.

POT ROAST or BRAISED BEEF.—Remove the skin and some of the fat from the flank of beef, (put both in the oven with half a pint of water to “try out”,) sprinkle the beef with two level teaspoonfuls of salt and half a saltspoonful of pepper, a tablespoonful of finely chopped parsley, if you have it, and a scant teaspoonful of thyme, also, if you have it.  Roll up the beef tightly with these flavorings inside, flour the meat and put in a thick saucepan or pot with a wineglass of vinegar and two cloves.  Cover very closely and if the lid of the saucepan does not fit well put a clean cloth over it.  Let it so remain till nearly browned turning it about occasionally.  Have ready a carrot and half an onion sliced, and when the meat has been slowly cooking nearly two hours, put them to it with half a pint of boiling water and a dessert spoonful of Worcestershire or any nice table sauce, if you have it, and simmer very slowly two hours, then take up the meat, remove the strings, carefully skim all fat from the gravy and pour it over it.  In summer put a pint of young peas into the gravy; fried potatoes are very good with this dish.  – Good Housekeeping.  Vol. II.  Feb. 6, 1886.

In 1887, Fanny Gillette published a recipe for what she called old style pot roast, saying of it, “This is an old-fashioned dish, often cooked in our grand mothers’ time.  Take a piece of fresh beef weighing about five or six pounds.  It must not be too fat.  Wash it and put it into a pot with barely sufficient water to cover it.  Set it over a slow fire, and after it has stewed an hour salt and pepper it.  Then stew it slowly until tender, adding a little onion if liked.  Do not replenish the water at the last, but let all nearly boil away.  When tender all through take the meat from the pot, and pour the gravy in a bowl.  Put a large lump of butter in the bottom of the pot, then dredge the piece of meat with flour, and return it to the pot to brown, turning it often to prevent its burning.  Take the gravy that you have poured from the meat into the bowl, and skim off all the fat; pour this gravy in with the meat and stir in a large spoonful of flour; wet with a little water; let it boil up ten or fifteen minutes and pour into a gravy dish.  Serve both hot, the meat on a platter.  Some are very fond of this way of cooking a piece of beef which has been previously placed in spiced pickle for two or three days.”

Fanny was born in 1828 in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  She married G. W. Gillette on March 15, 1848.  She was roughly 60 years old at the time her book was published.  For a recipe to date to her grandmother’s time, it would have to date from at least the latter third of the 18th century. 

The term “pot-roast” isn’t readily found prior to the 1880’s, but the cooking method is so simple and basic the dish was undoubtedly being prepared much earlier. 

Roasting a large joint of beef required constant turning and attention, but slow braising allowed the cook to attend to other household tasks while the roast cooked.  Gauging by the time it took to cook and the fuel needed for hot coals to roast beef I suspect pot-roast was one of those dishes that was very common but so basic it rarely merited mention in cookery books prior to the 19th century.

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