Friday, August 29, 2008

Summer, 1674

Today we go back in time to the seventeenth century – to 1674 to be exact, the year that the Treaty of Westminster recognised the inhabitants of New York and New Sweden as British subjects, the year that the Drury Lane theatre in London was rebuilt and re-opened after the great fire, and the year that the opera Alceste opened in Paris. The English hoi-poloi’s tastes were getting Frenchified, much to the disgust of many of the slightly less hoi-polloi. One of the results was the publication of a number of cookbooks to assist the fashionable transition, such as The English and French Cook; by several approved Cooks of London and Westminster, in 1674. A sampling of bills of fare was included, and to reproduce this one in time for dinner you will need to get your servants working as soon as they don their aprons for the day.

A Bill-of-Fare for Summer, for Flesh Days.

First Course.
A boiled meat of Cockerels
A chine of Mutton drawn with Lemon pill
A dish of Turkeys, larded.
Stewed Carps
A Haunch of Venison, boil’d with Colli-flowers
Leverets larded
A venison pasty
Capons roasted
Marrow puddings
A Lamb-pye
Geese roasted
A haunch of venison roasted
Udders and tongues boil’d with Cabbidge
A piece of boil’d Beef.

Second course.
Quails larded and roasted
Young Heron-sews larded
Young greese Pease
A dish of Soals
An Artichoke Pye
A dish of Cream
A dish of Ruffs
Butter’d Crabs
Cream and green Codlings
A dish of Chickens
A Kid roasted whole with a Pudding in its Belly
A souced Turbot
A dish of Artichokes
A chine of boil’d Salmon
A cold jole of Salmon
A dish of Knots
A dish of Partridges
A jole of Sturgeon
Gooseberry and Cherry-tarts
Young Ducks, boil’d
Potten Venison
A Westphalia-ham
Dryed Tongues

Almond Tart.
Take three quarters of a pound of blanch’d Almonds, and soak them a whilein Water, then pound them in a stone Morter, a wooden one will serve, or a deep Tray, put to them some Rosewater, when you have pounded them very well, pound them over again with a little Cream, then set on about a pint and a half of Cream over the fire, and put your pounded Almonds therin with some Cinamon, large Mace, and a grain of Musk fastened to a thread, stir it continually that it burn not to the bottom till it be thick, then take it off the fire, and beat in the yolks of four or five Eggs, and the whites of two, so season it with Sugar or Orengado, and bake it either in a dish or Paste.
Or you may only strain beaten Almonds with Cream, yolks of Eggs, Sugar, Cinamon and Ginger, boil it till thick fill your Tart, and when it is baked ice it.

Quotation for the Day …

There can be economy only where there is efficiency. Benjamin Disraeli


Liz + Louka said...

That tart sounds delicious! I'm going to make it for my mum, because she loves almonds.

The Old Foodie said...

It does sound good doesnt it - I bet your mum would particularly like a seventeenth century tart. I am going to make it myself, but I think I'll cheat and use almond meal.

Liz + Louka said...

By the way, does the book explain the "lemon pill"?

The Old Foodie said...

Hello Liz (or is it Louka?)
Lemon pill is lemon peel - there was a lot of phonetic spelling in those days; even in the same book things were often spelled several different ways.

Rochelle R. said...

I wonder what a dish of Knots was? No thanks to the udders with cabbage!

The Old Foodie said...

Hi Rochelle
I am pretty sure the Knots were biscuits

Unknown said...

I was compelled to look up the Dish of Ruffs. It's a bird, and I find it linked as "a dish of ruffs and reeves" in a couple of places, retelling an anecdote about a shy young divine who, thinking to stay quiet and discreet, ate all of this delicacy at a dinner with his seniors.