The Eleventh Day of Christmas

January 5

.... well, it is a little late, but better late than never. And I think it is still January 5 in some parts of the world.

“On the eleventh day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Eleven pipers piping …”

One of the most important gigs that a piper gets is to pipe in the Chieftain o’the Pudding Race (haggis) on Burns Night (January 25). The Scots have certainly got the idea right, even if most of the rest of the world is confused and concerned about haggis. All of the other incarnations of ‘pudding’ should be equally valued and so honoured – and there are many incarnations indeed.

The word ‘pudding’ comes from the Anglo-Norman bodeyn or bodin (think modern French boudin), meaning entrails, hence is a legacy of 1066 and all that. The word may originally have referred to ‘a stuffed entrail or sausage’, but it pretty soon got applied to the reverse anatomical concept of ‘a stuffing made of a mixture of minced meat, suet, oatmeal, seasoning, etc, and roasted within the body of the animal (so that we can have a hare with a pudding in its bellye). I am not entirely sure of the difference between a boudin and a saucisson (clearly I need to spend more time in France), but I am quite certain that in English, not all puddings are sausages. The French, having an inadequate language to describe the sweet delights that the English consider ‘puddings’, were forced to borrow it back again, so that they can made plum poutinge at Christmas.

From its sausagy start the pudding was adapted fairly rapidly to ‘a sweet or savoury dish with a farinaceous base – boiled, steamed or baked, especially containing suet’, and in British hearts to any sweet dish at all, delicate or solid. The family also branched out to pudding-cake (cake which is boiled or steamed) and pudding-pie (pie without the crust). If you are onto a good thing, rename everything in its honour.

Today’s recipe is from My Daily Dinner Cookery Book: the work of a practical housewife, a little Australian book - not dated, but pre-decimal currency when the New Idea magazine cost 6 pence. Probably the late 1950’s I’d say, by the look of the cover and the recipes. The pudding (dessert, sweet, ‘afters’) for the Saturday of the first week of the Summer menus (it is summer here in ‘Down South’) is – Apple fritters, which, by a nice turn of serendipity and cross hemispherical co-operation are also entirely appropriate for those of you freezing in the Other Hemisphere.

Apple Fritters.
Four oz flour, pinch of salt, one egg and enough milk to make a thick batter. Put the flour and salt into a basin, make a hole in the centre, break in the egg, and mix the flour in gently from the middle, add the milk gradually till all the flour is in. Beat well till smooth. Allow to stand for an hour, if possible.
Peel and core two apples. Cut in fairly thin rounds, four to an apple. Cover each piece well with batter, and fry in boiling fat till a light brown. Turn and brown on the other side. Drain well on kitchen paper (or cheap blotting paper). Serve on a paper doyley, and dust with castor sugar. A squeeze of lemon is an improvement. Cut a lemon into quarters, put in a small dish, and hand around.

“On the eleventh day of Christmas
My good friend gave to me
Eleven puddings cooking
Ten beers a-brewing,
Nine loaves a-rising,
Eight cheeses ripening,
Seven fish a-swimming,
Six eggs a-poaching,
Five golden fruits,
Four keeping cakes,
Three boiling hens,
Two chocolate tarts,
And a partridge in a pear tree.”

Tomorrow’s Story …

The Twelfth Day of Christmas.

Quotation for the Day …

… good advice to all women is the READ their cookery books, and not just use them for one or two special recipes which taste their fancy. K. Balfour, editor of the above book.

A Belated Feast.

Today, April 4th …

In 1658 Samuel Pepys was “cut for the stone” – that is, he had surgery for a bladder stone. It was a common medical problem of the time, particularly amongst the wealthier folk who had little in the way of dairy produce in their diet. Butter was for the lower classes, and clean fresh milk was difficult to get in the cities, so city folk were more liable to suffer from Vitamin A deficiency – a known contributor to the problem. Specialised ‘stone-cutters’ were kept busy plying their trade, and a gruesome and risky procedure it was in the days before anaesthesia (the patient was strapped to the table) and sterilisation of instruments.

Surviving such surgery was indeed worth celebrating. Every year on the anniversary of his operation, Samuel had a special dinner. The actual day had been March 26th, but in 1663 he had been forced to postpone the celebration because the household was in a muddle due to his wife Elizabeth being ill, and “my servants being out of order” (they were in search of a new cook-maid.) The delayed dinner was finally held on this day, and what a good feast it was.

“…This being my feast, in lieu of what I should have had a few days ago, for my cutting of the Stone …… Very merry before, at, and after dinner, and the more for that my dinner was great and most neatly dressed by our own only mayde. We had a Fricasse of rabbits and chicken – a leg of mutton boiled – three carps in a dish – a great dish of a side of lamb – a dish roasted pigeons – a dish of four lobsters – three tarts – a Lampry pie, a most rare pie – a dish of anchoves – good wine of several sorts; and all things mightly and noble to my great content.”

Samuel Pepys’ diary is fascinating to histo-foodies, but he also recorded the political events of the day (well, you can't eat all the time). He lived through England’s eleven-year post-civil war government by the Commonwealth and Oliver Cromwell’s Protectorate, and the Restoration of the Monarchy in 1660. In 1664 a piece of Royalist propaganda was published in the form of a cookbook purporting to be written by Elizabeth (“Joan”) Cromwell. In spite of its satirical tone, there are some interesting recipes in the book. Here is one for a tart that would not have been out of place on Samuel’s feast table.

To make a double Tart.
Take some codlings tenderly boyled and peel them, cut them in halves, fill your Tart, put into a quarter of a hundred of codlings a pound and a half of sugar, a few cloves, and a little cinnamon, close up the coffin and bake it; when it comes out of the Oven, take a quart of cream, six eggs, a quartern of sugar and a sliced nutmeg, beat all these well together, pour them into the Tart, then set your tart in the Oven for half a quarter of an hour, when it comes out, cut off the ley and having a lid cut in flowers ready, lay it on, and garnish it with preserves of damsons, resberries, apricocks and cherries, and place a preserved quince in the middle, and strew it with sugar biskets.

Tomorrow’s Story …

Spanish Stew.

Last Year on This Day …

Tinned apricots were the topic of the day.

Quotation for the Day …

The longer I work in nutrition, the more convinced I become that for the healthy person all foods should be delicious. Adele Davis (1904-1974)

The Hired Help.

Today, January 5th …

I don’t know what you intend to provide your servants for dinner today, but if you are unsure, I have a couple of menus for today that might give you inspiration.

A day in the life of a servant has probably often been nasty, brutish, and far too damn long, but somehow life Below Stairs has never sounded as bad as life Out In The Fields, has it? Those indoors don’t have the vagaries of the weather to deal with for starters, and there is easy access to the kitchen. A young, growing houseboy could probably sneak a quick snack in between blacking boots and annoying the housemaids, which would be impossible for a young, growing farmhand in between pasture and pig-pen.

In reality, ease of life and availability of snacks would depend on how closely the household was managed, and how tight and incorruptible was the chain of command between Master and Mistress, steward and housekeeper, and the lower orders of staff - and of course how kindly disposed to their inferiors were their Lord and Ladyship.

Managing a large estate in the early nineteenth century was no trivial occupation. The household would have been largely self-sufficient, with fruit, vegetables, dairy, grain, and most meat coming from the estate itself. Such was the household of the Marquis of Tweedale in the East Lothian district of Scotland. The Household Book of Yester House recorded not just the accounts, but tracked the source of the victuals (where this was not from the estate) and the number and class of persons fed each day (family, servants, visitors, and visitors’ servants).

On this day in 1817 the Marquis’ family sat down to dinner to:

Breast of Veal
Sur loine of Beef
Mutton Cuttelettes
1 phaisant
1 Hare

The servants of the household had for their dinner: boiled mutton and roast beef.

Moving along nearly half a century to 1869, urbanisation and industrial growth meant that there was a burgeoning middle class who wanted and needed servants but had little ancestral knowledge to draw on as to the proper way to manage their staff. A large number of household manuals were produced to assist the Young Mistress in this and other intimidating and mysterious requirements of running a household, and many provided suggested menus for every day in the year.

The January 5th suggestion for dinner from “Cre-Fydd’s Family Fare: or Young Housewife’s Daily Assistant” (1869) was:

Onion Soup.
Roast Loin of Mutton (5 lbs), lobster cutlets, laver, potatoes, currant jelly.
Apple Fritters, cheese, celery, &c.

For the ‘Kitchen’, the dinner was: Beef-steak Pie (1 ¾ lbs), potatoes. No pudding mentioned. Next day they had Pie, Cold for dinner - and rice pudding.

Here is the Apple Fritters recipe from the same book. Please be kind to your servants this evening, they will be fatigued from the batter beating.

Apple Fritters.
Make a batter* as directed for pancakes in the preceding receipt. Pare two or three large (cooking) apples; cut them into seven or eight slices the third of an inch thick; scoop out the core neatly, making a round hole in the centre of each slice; lay them in a stewpan, with three ounces of sifted loaf sugar, the strained juice of a lemon, and the grated rind, and simmer (uncovered) for ten minutes; place them on a plate; pour the syrup over, and let them stand to imbibe the sugar for two hours or longer; wipe each piece; dip it into the batter, and fry in butter or oil till of a golden colour; drain on a sieve before the fire, sift sugar over, and serve on a neatly folded napkin. Must be sent to table quickly, and very hot.

*Batter: Beat three fresh eggs, and stir into three tablespoonfuls of dried flour till in a smooth paste; add three-quarters of a pint of new milk; beat with a wooden spoon for a quarter of an hour; stand the batter in a cool place for two hours or longer; beat again for ten minutes …..

Monday’s Story …

Cocoa in the Country.

A Previous Story for this Day …

We found out a little about the hamburger on this day last year.

Quotation for the Day …

In the Days of good Queen Elizabeth, when mighty Roast Beef was the Englishman's Food; our Cookery was plain and simple as our Manners; it was not then a Science or Mistery, and required no conjuration to please the Palates of our greatest Men. But we have of late Years refined ourselves out of that simple Taste, and conformed our Palates to Meats and Drinks dressed after the French Fashion: The natural Taste of Fish or Flesh is become nauseous to our fashionable Stomach; we abhor that any thing should appear at our Tables in its native Properties; all the Earth, from both the Poles, the most distant and different Climates, must be ransacked for Spices, Pickles, and Sauces, not to relish, but to disguise our Food. Robert Campbell; 1747, author of "The London Tradesman"

A young woman in possession of a good recipe.

Today, December 27th …

Jane Austen did not save her delicious wit for her novels. She wrote often to her sister, Cassandra, and on this day in 1808 described an evening party at her brother’s house in Southampton, where she was living at the time.

The last hour, spent in yawning and shivering in a wide circle round the fire, was dull enough, but the tray had admirable success. The widgeon and the preserved ginger were as delicious as one could wish. But as to our black butter, do not decoy anybody to Southampton by such a lure, for it is all gone. The first pot was opened when Frank and Mary were here, and proved not at all what it ought to be; it was neither solid nor entirely sweet, and on seeing it Eliza remembered that Miss Austen had said she did not think it had been boiled enough. It was made, you know, when we were absent. Such being the event of the first pot, I would not save the second, and we therefore ate it in unpretending privacy; and though not what it ought to be, part of it was very good.

The “black butter” that Jane refers to is not a sauce of butter cooked until it is burnt, but a thick, dark, spiced conserve of apples cooked in cider, with a history going back to mediaeval times. It is still a particular specialty of Jersey – where they add liquorice to make it even blacker. There is a dearth of cookbook recipes for such a homely preserve, even under its plain name of “apple butter”. Cassell’s Dictionary of Cookery (1870’s) actually calls it “American”, reflecting its popularity in the former colony, and the ignorance of the editors in respect of its history. Like pumpkin pie, it crossed the Atlantic, and then acted as if it had been born there.

Apple Butter, American.
Fill a preserving pan with apples, peeled, quartered, and cored. Add a slight flavouring of cloves, allspice, and cinnamon. Cover with good cider, and boil slowly, stirring from time to time with a wooden spoon, until the whole becomes a dark brown jam, with only juice sufficient to keep it soft and buttery. Remove it from the fire, and place in well-covered jars, and in a few weeks it will be ready for use. It makes an excellent substitute for butter, and is very wholesome for children.

Tomorrow: Any peas with that?

All Hail the apple trees.

Today, November 9th …

It was probably a bitterly cold night when Samuel Pepys wrote in his diary for this day in 1666: “Being come home, we to Cards till 2 in the morning; and drinking lamb’s-wool, to bed.”

“Lamb’s wool” is a drink made from hot, sweet, spiced ale mixed with the pulp of roasted apples. The ale would have been sweeter than we are used to today, as it was brewed without the hops which made it bitter but improved its keeping qualities – the brew that we now call “beer”. It was a traditional drink at Hallowe’en, which occurred during the harvest season, and at Twelfth night, when it was used to “wassail” or toast the orchard fruit trees to encourage a good new crop.

Why the name? You can take your pick of the two most popular explanations. The name may be derived from La Maes Abhal, a pagan celebration of the apple harvest, or it may simply be that the hot, fluffy roasted apple pulp floating on the top of the drink looked like lamb’s wool. Probably of course it is a happy symmetry of both ideas.

Mrs Beeton seems oddly confused over lamb’s wool. She refers to it as an old English beverage, but then goes on to give the recipe for a French version made from wine, which she likens to marmalade!

“ … is made by boiling any given quantity of new wine, skimming it as often as fresh scum rises, and, when it is boiled to half its bulk, straining it. To this apples, pared and cut into quarters, are added; the whole is then allowed to simmer gently, stirring it all the time with a long wooden spoon, till the apples are thoroughly mixed with the liquor, and the whole forms a species of marmalade, which is extremely agreeable to the taste, having a slight flavour of acidity, like lemon mixed with honey”

A far more authentic version is by Robert Herrick (1591-1674), from his “Twelfth Night”, with the added bonus is that it is poetic.

"Next crowne the bowle fullWith gentle lamb's wooll;Adde sugar, nutmeg and ginger'With store of ale too;And thus ye must doeTo make a Wassaile a swinger."

Tomorrow … A taste of France, or is it Italy?…