Eating to Live, or Living to Eat.

Today I want to feature some words from a nineteenth century book of food tales and anecdotes. I do this for a number of reasons, but mostly because I love the title page.

APICIAN MORSELS;

OR,

TALES OF THE

TABLE, KITCHEN, AND LARDER:

CONTAINING

A NEW AND IMPROVED CODE OF EATICS;

SELECT EPICURIAN PRECEPTS,

NUTRITIVE MAXIMS, REFLECTIONS, ANECDOTES, &C.

ILLUSTRATING

THE VERITABLE SCIENCE OF THE MOUTH;

WHICH INCLUDES

THE ART OF NEVER BREAKFASTING AT HOME, AND

ALWAYS DINING ABROAD

-

BY

DICK HUMELBERGIUS SECUNDUS.

-

“O vos qui stomacho laboratis, accurrite, eg ego vos restaurabo!”

                                                              Vide p. 202

“Always breakfast as if you did not intend to dine; and dine as if you

had not broken your fast.” Code Gourmand.

The book was published in New York in 1829, and the real identity of the writer remains a mystery, although there are several theories. The name is meant to suggest the return of Gabriel Hummelberger (Humelbergius), the sixteenth century annotator of the Roman cookery manuscript ascribed to Apicius (whose exact identity is also somewhat of a mystery.)

A front page like this is worth the cost of the book, methinks, but front pages today are not what they used to be. They are certainly not as much fun as this one. Humelbergius even invents a new word – eatics – which sadly has not been absorbed into the language, for it is a lovely counter to the rather chilly concept of ‘dietetics’.

This front page would also have given me a worthy quotation for the day, but as many of you go straight to the bottom of the blog page, I did not want to cause confusion by leaving it blank.

The author is not afraid to tackle the big questions of gastronomy. I give you his words on the old conundrum of ‘Do we eat to live, or live to eat?’, and his advice on how best to treat your host, in order to secure a return invitation and avoid the dreadful situation of eating all alone, in your own home.

The Knotty Point.

A QUESTION, hitherto undecided in this all-consuming world, and particularly with gourmands, connected with the philosophy of the stomach, is, do we eat to live, or live to eat?The temperate man adopts the first; the man of appetite the other. Now, as there are fewpeople, of whatsoever country, calling, or sect, who would not prefer a good dinner to anindifferent, and one of an indifferent quality to none at all; we maintain that it is nearly asrational for a man to live to eat, as it is for him to eat to live; nay, did we only eat to live, how

little would satisfy nature, - "man's life,'' as the poet says, "would then be as cheap as beasts." But eating and drinking have such irresistible appeals to the palate and stomach, that insensible indeed must be the nerves of either the one or the other that could withstand the argumentum of a smoking Sir Loin, or round of good English beef, even upon a GoodFriday, were the appetite jaded to eat.

A good dinner being one of the greatest enjoyments of human life, is it to be wondered that so many ruses de guerre are adopted to procure one abroad, when it is not convenient to find one at home ? Besides, ought we not to be grateful to those benefactors, who are open to such satisfactory accommodation, and who take so much trouble to make us eat and drink their substance ? Far, indeed, from jesting, or treating such hospitality with levity, we should endeavour to pay our host with appropriate encomia on everything set before us; and to settleour reckoning, with sallies of wit and humour, short and amusing stories, anecdotes, a thousand times told, glees, catches, compliments, and conundrums; in short, to secure another invitation, feel the pulse of the Amphitrion, get hold of his weak side, his hobby; you then invest the main post, and if ever you lose it, it will be your own fault; flatter him to the skies - say yes and no - But stop - we are proceeding rather too fast; let us first saySOMETHING ABOUT BREAKFAST.

Here endeth my extract for today, I will give you his thoughts on breakfast some other time, dear readers.

The recipe for the day is from a well-known cookery book contemporary with Apician Morsels. It is The Cook’s Dictionary and Housekeeper’s Directory (1830), by Richard Dolby.

Beef (Sirloin of) in Epigram.
Having roasted a sirloin of beef, carefully take up the skin of the meat, which you must cut out and mince in fine shreds; but take care that you do not cut the sides. Have a strong brown sauce ready with a few mushrooms, pepper and salt, and a little lemon juice. Put in the mine, lay it inside the beef, and cover the skin over. Serve it up with a strong gravy.


We will consider epigrams (the culinary kind) on another day too, never fear.


Quotation for the Day

A dinner invitation, once accepted, is a sacred obligation. If you die before the dinner takes place, your executor must attend.
Ward McAllister

On This Day: Corned Beef for Dinner.

Methinks it is time to give you another ‘on this day in food history’ snippet, as much to remind myself to revive the never-ending project, as to amuse your good selves.

On May 31, 1844, the well-known writer Nathanial Hawthorne was cooking his own dinner, his wife being away. Corned beef was on the menu, but it must have been long-salted and very hard, because it took too long to cook, as noted in his American Journals:

“I get along admirably, and am at this moment superintending the corned beef, which has been on the fire, as it appears to me, ever since the beginning of time, and shows no symptom of being done before the crack of doom. Mrs. Hale says it must boil till it becomes tender; and so it shall, if I can find wood to keep the fire a-going. ... Meantime, I keep my station in the dining-room, and read or write as composedly as in my own study. Just now, there came a very important rap at the front door, and I threw down a smoked herring which I had begun to eat, as there is no hope of the corned beef to-day, and went to admit the visitor.”

We have considered corned beef (and corned buffalo hump) a number of times in this blog (see the links below), but there is always something new to find out about everything in the known universe, isn’t there?

Presumably, eventually, the corned beef did become tender, and presumably, eventually, Nathaniel was faced with a plate of odd bits and pieces - leftovers, comebacks, or bits requiring secondary cookery - call them what you will. The blindingly obvious thing to do with leftover corned beef of course is to make it into hash, but we have explored that option several times already. What else to do with leftover corned beef?

Here is an idea from Miss Eliza Leslie, a well-known cookbook writer from the time of Nathaniel Hawthorne that would seem to suit his purposes very well.


To Stew Cold Corned Beef.
Cut about four pounds of lean from a cold round of beef, that tastes but little of the salt. Lay it in a stew pan with a quarter of a peck of tomatos quartered. and the same quantity of ochras sliced; also two small onions peeled and sliced, and two ounces of fresh butter rolled in flour. Add a tea-spoonful of whole pepper corns, no salt, and four or five blades of mace. Place it over a steady but moderate fire. Cover it closely and let it stew three or four hours. The vegetables should be entirely dissolved. Serve it up hot. This is an excellent way of using up the remains of a cold round of beef at the season of tomatos and ochras, particularly when the meat has been rather under boiled the first day of cooking it.
New Receipts for Cooking, (Philadelphia, 1854)

And if Nathaniel was a truly thrifty (and sensible) man-cook, he could have made soup from the cooking liquor.

Corned Beef Soup.
When the liquor in which corned beef and vegetables have been boiled is cold, remove all the grease that has risen and hardened on the top, and add tomatoes and tomato catsup and boil half an hour – thus making an excellent tomato soup; or add to it rice, or sago, or pearl barley, or turn it into vegetable soup by boiling in the liquor any vegetables that are fancied. Several varieties of soups may have this stock for a basis and be agreeable to the taste.
New England Cook Book, Annie B. Copps, 1905

P.S. The beef did eventually cook, for on June 2nd Nathaniel wrote

“The corned beef is exquisitely done, and as tender as a young lady's heart, all owing to my skilful cookery; for I consulted Mrs. Hale at every step, and precisely followed her directions. To say the truth, I look upon it as such a masterpiece in its way, that it seems irreverential to eat it. Things on which so much thought and labor are bestowed should surely be immortal.”

Corned Beef Stories.

Recipes for corned beef hash are here and here.

A Kind word for Hash is here.

Other food stories starring Nathaniel Hawthorne are here, here, and here.


Quotation for the Day

I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that it does no harm to my wit.’
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night.

Treacle Beef.

A few days ago I marveled at the confusion created by the use of different words (shrimp and prawn) being used for essentially the same thing in America and Australia (and England). I am referring to ‘common usage’ of course – no doubt there is no doubt in the minds of zoologists – and I have to admit to having been mighty surprised at not being taken to task by one of those folk, in the wake of that post.

MY recent American visitor (blogger Kathryn McGowan) and I chatted at some length on this amusing issue of our two countries being divided by a common language. One topic of discussion was the difference (if any) between treacle and molasses. To my surprise, I find that I have covered the topic in a previous post. My memory must be failing me. The story also touched on ‘golden syrup’ – a great sugar substitute for the Brits during WW II, and absolutely essential in Australia for making Anzac biscuits and pouring over pikelets.

Treacle (see the previous post) really is a very marvelously versatile ingredient. It is used in many gingerbread recipes (below, in an earlier post this week, and in the Through the Ages with Gingerbread archive), and we have sampled it in treacle beer. It has popped up in many puddings, including the WW I ‘Peace Christmas Pudding’. Here it is in a recipe for preserved, smoked beef.


Dutch, or Hung Beef.
For fourteen pounds weight of the round, the rump, or the thick flank of beef, mix two ounces of saltpetre with the same quantity of coarse sugar; rub the meat with them in every part, and let it remain for two days, then add one pound of bay salt, four ounces of common salt, and one ounce of ground black pepper. Rub these ingredients thoroughly into the beef, and in four days pour over it a pound of treacle; rub and turn it daily for a fortnight; drain, and send it to be smoked. When wanted for table, lay it into plenty of cold water, boil it very slowly, and press it under a heavy weight while hot. A slice of this beef, from which the edges have been carefully trimmed, will serve to flavour soups or gravies as well as ham.
Beef, 14 lbs; saltpetre and coarse sugar, each 2 ozs.: 2 days
Bay salt, 1 lb.; common salt, 4ozs; pepper, 1 oz.: 4 days.
Treacle, 1 lb,: 14 days.
Obs. – Three quarters of a pound of coarse sugar may be rubbed into the meat at first, and the treacle may be altogether omitted: cloves and mace may be added in the same proportion for spiced beef.
Modern Cookery, Eliza Acton, 1845

Treacle has a long history of medicinal use too. I rather like the sound of this common cold remedy:


Treacle Posset
Boil a pint of milk, stir in two tablespoonfuls of treacle, let it boil up, and when the curds have well formed, strain the whey through a fine sieve into a basin, and serve hot at bedtime as a remedy for a cold.
Cookery for Invalids: Persons of Delicate Digestion, and for Children; Mary Hooper, 1876

And because we don’t make puddings nearly often enough these days, I give you for your winter delectation, an unashamedly very treacly treacle pudding from Queen Victoria’s chef.


A Treacle Pudding.
Ingredients: two pounds of flour, twelve ounces of treacle, six ounces of suet or dripping fat, a quarter of an ounce of baking powder, a pinch of allspice, a little salt, one pint of milk, or water. Mix the whole of the above-named ingredients in a pan, into a firm compact paste; tie it up in a well-greased and floured pudding cloth; boil the pudding for at least two hours and a half, and when done, cut it in slices, and pour a little sweetened melted butter over it.
Plain Cookery Book for the Working Classes, Charles Elmé Francatelli, 1861


Quotation for the Day.

A waffle is like a pancake with a syrup trap.
Mitch Hedberg.

In the Fashion.

Food is no less subject to fashion (at least amongst those that can afford to be choosy) than are frocks and footwear. In late nineteenth century America, to serve apple pie ‘in the fashion’ was to serve it with ice-cream. As the fashionable menu language was still French, this was to serve it ‘a la mode.’ No knowledge of the French language was required to have a comfortable certainty that one would get ice-cream if one ordered pie a la mode – and this was the case right up until …well, almost if not definitely the present time.

It was not always so. Once upon a time (the seventeenth century) a dish styled ‘a la mode’ (often spelled alamode) referred to a meat (usually beef) dish. The certainty ended there however. There was a huge variation in recipes for Alamode Beef. To many, including the editors of the Oxford English Dictionary, alamode beef consisted of ‘scraps and remainders of beef boiled down into a thick soup or stew’ – in other words it is a dish of recycled leftovers glamorized with a fancy French name. At one time or another, in England and America, other cooks and cookbook writers have given the name to virtually any beef stew or pot-roast – each individual no doubt determined that theirs is the ‘real’ dish.

Alamode Beef was a common café and take-out item, and major cities in the English speaking world had ‘Alamode Beef Shops’ where no doubt the version sold was not always the most savoury – metaphorically speaking.

The author of an article in The Ladies Literary Cabinet (New York, 1819) was quite adamant on the subjects of alamode beef shops (the English variety) and the definitive recipe – in this case a rather elegant dish of beef larded with fat bacon and cooked slowly, slowly, in a sealed pot.

Real Beef Alamode.
Though what are called alamode shops swarm in London, there is not, perhaps, one place under that denomination in the city where the real beef alamode is sold. What passes under this name in England is nothing more than the coarsest pieces of beef stewed into sort of seasoned soup, not at all superior to those of ox cheek or leg of beef, and often by no means so good. The real alamode beef is well known to be thus made. Take some of the veiny piece or a part of the thick flank, or rather a small round, commonly called the mouse buttock, of the finest ox-beef, but let be at least five inches thick. Cut thick slices of fat bacon into proper lengths for lardings of about three quarters of an inch thick; dip them first into vinegar and then into a mixed powder of finely beaten mace, long pepper, nutmeg, a clove or two, and double the united weight of salt. With a small knife or larding pin cut holes in the beef to receive the bacon thus prepared; the lardings tolerably thick and even; rub the beef over with the remainder of the seasoning; put it into a pot or pan just sufficiently large to contain it, and add a gill of vinegar, a couple of large onions, some sweet herbs, a few chives, a little lemon peel, some truffles and morels, and half a pint of wine. It should be very closely covered up and have a wet cloth round edge to prevent the steam from evaporating. It must be dressed over a stove or very slow fire, and will require six hours to do it properly. When half done it should be taken off, turned, and again closed up as before. If thick flank or the veiny piece be used, it may necessary to tie up the beef with tape, on putting it into the pan or pot; which of course must be taken off when meat is dressed.

Quotation for the Day.

Smell brings to mind … a family dinner of pot roast and sweet potatoes during a myrtle-mad August in a Midwestern town. Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years.
Diane Ackerman.

Potted Beef.

On this day in 1802, Dorothy Wordsworth, the sister of the famous poet, travelled from their home in Grasmere in the beautiful Lake District of England to the nearby town of Keswick. They had a nice snack along the way, without getting off their horses.

“…I went to K. Wm rode before me [ie she sat behind him, on the same horse] to the foot of the hill nearest Keswick. … We ate some potted Beef on Horseback, and a sweet cake…”

Well before the understanding of germs (in the mid-nineteenth century), people were aware that if air was excluded from the container, then food could be kept for longer periods of time. The earliest way in which this was achieved was to enclose the food in a very thick, hard pastry crust or ‘coffin’, the resulting dish being called a bake-mete – an early form of pie. As the seventeenth century progressed, the earthenware pot began to be used as an alternative to the pastry. The meat or fish was cooked slowly and then often pounded to a paste with various seasonings before being placed in the pot and sealed with a good quantity of butter. The following recipe allows a nice deceit too.


Potted Beef As Venison.
Choose a piece of lean beef from the buttock, or other part that has no bone in it; rub it all over with saltpeter, and let it lie twelve hours, then salt it thoroughly with bay salt and common salt in equal parts, well blended. Place it in a pot that will only just contain it; let it be completely covered with water, and remain thus four days; then wipe it well with a cloth, and rub it with pepper beaten to a powder; lay it into a pot without any liquor; put over it a crust of brown flour, and let it bake like large loaves six or seven hours; then take it out, and when it is cool enough pick out all the strings and skins, and beat it in a stone mortar finely. The seasoning must be mace, cloves, and nutmeg reduced to a fine powder; and add a little melted butter in which flour has been absorbed; put it down in pots as closely as you can, and pour clarified butter over it.
The Whole Art of Curing, Pickling, and Smoking Meat and Fish, by James Robinson (Practical Curer), 1847.


Postscripts.

(1) Dorothy Wordsworth has appeared in previous stories on this blog: they are HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE.


(2)  It is also the 5th Day of Christmas, which was the topic of the post HERE.


Quotation for the Day.

Nor is it the act of a sinner,
When breakfast is taken away,
To turn your attention to dinner;
And it’s not in the range of belief,
That you could hole him as a glutton,
Who, when he is tired of beef,
Determines to tackle the mutton.


W.S Gilbert, from Songs of a Savoyard.

Yorkshire Steak.

I had not expected to find a ‘Yorkshire’ recipe in an American cook book, but life is full of surprises, thank goodness. I have no idea why this steak dish is styled ‘Yorkshire”, and hope for some enlightenment from you. The book is Joe Tildens’ Recipes for Epicures, published in 1907. The preface says:

“Major Joseph Tilden was in his time one of the most famous Bohemians and epicureans of the Pacific Coast. Ever since his death his many friends have been trying to learn the culinary secrets which made a repast of his devising so delicious. He had given his recipes to but few, and those few his most intimate friends and fellow spirits. One of the most favored of his old companions has given this complete collection of his recipes for publication.”

Yorkshire Steaks.
Fry in butter several small tenderloin steaks, with two onions sliced and one cucumber sliced. When well browned add a pint of stock, salt, pepper and cayenne and one teaspoonful of made mustard. Simmer an hour or longer.

Seven things to do with salt beef.

May 30 ...

This day in 1808 was the birthday of Caroline Chisholm, an English gentlewoman who arrived in Sydney, Australia with her husband and children in 1838. She was horrified at the conditions of many of the migrants – particularly the women – and immediately set about addressing the problems. She set up many projects and became famous as ‘the emigrants friend’, meeting every migrant ship and making sure that the single women were safely accommodated and assisted to find work (or husbands, which is the same thing, really).

Caroline wrote several tracts to advise potential migrants, and in one of them she discussed the trials and tribulations of ‘bush cookery’. Early settlers were lured to Australia with the phrase “Meat three times a day” – and the meat was usually salt beef (‘corned beef’). Caroline described how to meet the challenge of preparing the same meat every night of the week – and keeping the husband happy.

"The great art of bush-cookery consists in giving a variety out of salt beef and flour, minus mustard, pepper, and potatoes. Now, the first thing that a wife has to do in the bush is examine the rations, and think and contrive how to use them. Every woman who values her husband’s health and comfort will give him a hot meal every day.

To commence with the flour: this should be divided into three parts – one for dumplings and pancakes, two for dampers* (bread made into large cakes, and baked on hearths.)
Divide the meat into seven portions. Take the best piece for Sunday: for as there is more leisure on that day, men congregate together, and get a habit of grumbling if the wife does not make the best use of her means. Let the Sunday share be soaked on the Saturday, and beat it well with a rolling pin, as this makes it more tender; take a seventh portion of the flour, and work it into a paste; then put the beef into it, boil it, and you will have a very nice pudding, known in the bush as ‘Station Jack.’
Monday. Cut the meat into small pieces; put them in the frying pan to stew; throw away the first water, then shake some flour over the meat and when sufficiently done, turn it out upon a dish; then take the remainder of this day’s flour (for you should be very particular and have no guess-work), mix it with water, not too much, and make it into a pancake. When fired, put the stew on top of it, and this will prevent any loss of gravy; keep it hot until your husband comes home, and he will have a palatable dish called ‘The Queen’s Nightcap’.
Tuesday. Chop the meat very small; mix it with this day’s flour, adding thereto a due portion of water, then form the whole into small dumplings, and put them in a frying pan. This dish generally goes by the name of ‘Trout-dumplings.’
Wednesday. Stew the meat well in a small pot; when near done, take the portion of flour allowed for the day, make it into a crust, cover the meat with it, and in half an hour you will be able to serve up ‘A Stewed Goose.’
Thursday. Boil your beef, and make your flour into dumplings.
Friday. Beefsteak pudding; if Catholic, fish for your dinner.
Saturday. Beef ‘a-la-mode.’ "

‘Tis all in the name, apparently.

* Damper stories are HERE and HERE.

Monday’s Story …

A tale of tails.

Quotation for the Day …

The west wasn't won on salad. ND Beef Council, billboard advertisement, 1990

The Englishman’s Principal Dish.

March 6 ...

The star of our story today is a man born on this day in 1716 in Sweden of Finnish parents, and he stars on account of his enlightening comments about English food. His name was Pehr Kalm, and he visited England in 1748. It is always interesting to see how travellers interpret their food experiences. Our man of the day gave English food a thumb’s up – admittedly a thumb’s up limited to two dishes, but quite nice praise nonetheless.

‘Roast meat is the Englishman's delice and principal dish. The English roasts are particularly remarkable for two things. I. All English meat, whether it is of ox, calf, sheep, or swine, has a fatness and delicious taste, either because of the excellent pasture ... or for some other reason. 2. The English men understand almost better than any other people the art of properly roasting a joint, which also is not to be wondered at; because the art of cooking as practiced by most Englishmen does not extend much beyond roast beef and plum pudding.’

The great modern misconception about roasted meat is that it is the same as meat baked in an oven. We use the terms interchangeably (but incorrectly) today. The true way to roast meat is by exposing it directly to the flames - preferrably on a spit. It is almost impossible to get true roasted meat nowadays: naked fires breach all sorts of regulations, and animal- and child-protection laws prohibit the employment of dogs or little boys to turn the spits. Such is the trade-off for progress.

Roast beef had been so much an automatic part of life for centuries in England that by the time of Pehr Kalm’s visit, it was not considered necessary for cookbooks to include instructions. There were lots of ideas for using the leftovers however, and here is a nice example from the eighteenth century.

Cold Roast Beef marinaded.
Cut slices of cold roast beef, and make a marinade with a litte oil, parsley, chibbol, mushrooms, a trifle of garlick, and three shallots, all finely chopped, pepper and salt; soak it along with the beef about half an hour; make as much of the marinade to keep as you can, with a deal of bread-crumbs; broil on a slow fire, basting with the remaining liquid. Serve with a sharp sauce.
[The lady’s complete guide; or, cookery in all its branches. Containing the most approved receipts. Mary Cole. 1791]

Tomorrow’s Story …

A Delightful Risotto.

Quotation for the Day …

Roast Beef, Medium, is not only a food. It is a philosophy. Seated at Life’s Dining Table, with the menu of morals before you, your eye wanders a bit over the entrees, the hors d’oevres, and the things a la though you know that Roast Beef, Medium, is safe and sane and sure. Edna Ferber.

On Corned Beef.

September 25th ...

Alice Cunningham Fletcher (1838 – 1923) was an anthropologist and passionate advocate for the American Indian. In an age when women were not expected to stray too far from house and home, she spent years in the field, living with Indian tribes and documenting their culture. On this day in 1881 she was “Camping with the Sioux”, and according to her diary she “Breakfasted on corn beef and coffee.”

We all all know what it was that Alice had for breakfast. She had meat that had been previously salted (or “pickled”). So why not call it salted beef, or pickled beef? Why “corned”? “Corn” is a problem word, one of the words that helps divide America (where it means maize) and England (where it used to mean grain, particularly wheat).

“Corn” is also trite entertainment that appeals to unsophisticated folks (presumably meaning the sort of folk that live in the country and grow corn), or any of us when we are in an unsophisticated mood. None of these explanations bring us any closer to understanding “corned” beef however.

The OED gives a long explanation of the word “corn” which essentially determine that it means a small particle – a “grain” in other words (but not the sort of grain grown as a crop and sometimes called wheat, or is it corn? ….) So we can have corns or grains of salt, for example. Of course, the surface of meat (or fish) preserved with salt can also look “powdered”, which is an alternative name. Salted or pickled beef would be so much easier.

In the unlikely event that you want to corn (salt, pickle, powder) your own beef, I give you the instructions of Miss Corson (1885). As is generally accepted, the best reason for corning meat is to have leftovers to make into hash, so I give her recipe for that too. In between the pickling and the hashing, you have to boil it, but I am sure you can work that out for yourselves.

How To Pickle Meat.
For eighteen pounds of meat, pound to a powder half an ounce of saltpetre and an ounce of brown sugar, and rub the mixture well into the meat; make enough brine to cover the meat, by dissolving in water all the bay salt it will receive; boil it up, and skim it, then cool it, and pour it over the meat in the pickling-tub; for four days take the meat out of the brine every day, rub into it the above quantity of saltpetre and sugar, and replace it in the brine; after four days, turn the meat every day in the brine for ten days; it will then be ready to smoke for eight days, or may remain in the pickle simply as corned meat.

Corned-Beef Hash, New-England Style.
Remove all cartilage and skin from cold corned beef, but do not take away the fat, and then chop it fine. Chop an equal quantity by measure of cold boiled potatoes; season the beef and potatoes rather highly, put them into a frying-pan containing two heaping tablespoonfuls of butter, and stir the hash until it is quite hot. Then move it to one side of the pan, press it firmly together in an oblong cake, and let the bottom brown. When the bottom is nicely browned, turn the hash out on a hot dish without disturbing its shape, and serve it hot.
[Miss Corson's Practical American Cookery and Household Management; 1885]

Tomorrow’s Story …

Shrimp Cocktails.

Quotation for the Day …

Salt is white and pure - there is something holy in salt. Nathaniel Hawthorne.

King Charles’ Birthday Bash.

Today, May 29th …

In the year of 1660 the Parliament of England declared that this day “the 29 of May, the King's birthday, to be for ever kept as a day of thanksgiving for our redemption from tyranny and the King's return to his Government, he entering London that day.”

There are three historic events commemorated this day. It was the day that King Charles II re-entered London after the long exile which followed the English Civil War, the execution of his father, Charles I in 1649, and the short life of the The Commonweath of England under Oliver Cromwell. It also happened to be Charles’ 30th birthday, and surely his Restoration was the best present an exiled King could wish for.

The third event is commemorated in one of the common names for the holiday – “Oak Apple Day”. The name reminds of the day in September 1651 when Charles escaped the Roundheads by hiding in a hollow in an oak tree. It became a tradition that Royalists wore an oak sprig or an ‘oak apple’ on this day to demonstrate their allegiance to the crown, and those who did not were set to become the victims of various taunts and minor abuses – which gave rise to another common name for the holiday – Pinch-Bum Day. I should also point out here, in the interests of clarity, that oak trees do not bear apples. The ‘apple’ refers to a ‘gall’ or excresence produced on the tree due to the irritating presence of a type of wasp. A local name for these mini-apple shaped galls gives rise to another name for the 29th of May – Shick-Shack Day. It may well be that the roots of the day lie in very ancient ‘tree worship’ times, hence one more name – Arbour Day.

Now we’ve clarified that (?), lets get onto the food. The seventeenth century in England was a fine time, culinarily speaking. English food (for those who could afford the best) was superb, if we are to judge by contemporary cookbooks. Improved sea-power opened up trade with far away places, and the return of Charles II from exile had stimulated interest in food from Europe (particularly France). Seventeenth century English gourmets could pick the best from everywhere – you may remember Samuel Pepys enthusing over a ‘Spanish Olio’ in a previous story.

It became traditional for the Chelsea Pensioners to be treated with good old English Roast Beef and Plum Pudding on this day. There are plenty of plum pudding ideas in the Christmas Recipe Archive, and roast beef hardly seems regal enough for the day, so we need different inspiration. The most famous cookbook of the time was The Accomplish’t Cook, by Robert May, and he included a recipe for cooking beef to mimic red-deer – a common practice of the time, and perhaps something we would try if the King was coming for dinner unexpectedly and we were out of venison. It will do for our main course.

Charles was not for nothing referred to as the Merry Monarch. He made merry on occasions with Nell Gwynne who was a lowly (but very beautiful) orange-seller. Oranges were expensive imported delicacies in Charles’ time, and a popular way of using them was to preserve the peels in a sugar syrup – and call it orengado. In honour of the Merry Time had by Charles and Nell, I give you a recipe for apple pie flavoured with quinces and orengado from the other famous cookbook of the time, by William Rabisha. The title of the book deserves repeating in full: The whole body of cookery dissected, taught, and fully manifested, methodically, artificially, and according to the best tradition of the English, French, Italian, Dutch, &c., or, A sympathie of all varieties in naturall compounds in that mysterie wherein is contained certain bills of fare for the seasons of the year, for feasts and common diets : whereunto is annexed a second part of rare receipts of cookery, with certain useful traditions : with a book of preserving, conserving and candying, after the most exquisite and newest manner ...

To bake Beef red Deer fashion in Pies or Pasties, either Surloin, Brisket, Buttock, or Fillet, larded or not.
Take the surloin, bone it, and take off the great sinnew that lies on the back, lard the leanest parts of it with great lard, being seasoned with nutmegs, pepper, and lard three pound; then have for the seasoning four ounces of pepper, four ounces of nutmegs, two ounces of ginger, and a pound of salt, season it and put it into the pie: but first lay a bed of good sweet butter, and a bay leaf or two, half an ounce of whole cloves, lay on the venison, then put on all the rest of the seasoning, with a few more cloves, good store of butter, and a bay-leaf or two, close it up and bake it, it will ask eight hours soaking: being baked and cold, fill it up with clarified butter, serve it, and a very good judgement shall not know it from red deer. Make the paste either fine or course to bake’t hot or cold.
To this quantity of flesh you must have three gallons of fine flower heapt measure, and three pound of butter; but the best way to bake red deer, is to bake it in course paste, either in pie or pasty: make it in rie meal to keep long. Otherwayes you may make it of meal as it comes from the mill, and make it onlie of boiling water, and no stuff in it.
[Accomplish’t Cook, May, 1660]

To make a Pie with whole Pippins.
You must pare and core your Pippins, and when your Coffin is made, take a handful of sliced Quinces, and strow over the bottom therof; then place in your Pippins, and fill the core-holes with the sirrup of Quinces, and put into every one a piece of Orangado, so pour on the sirrup of Quinces over your Apples, with Sugar, and close it; these pies will ask good soaking, especially the Quince-pie.
[Whole Body of Cookery dissected, Rabisha, 1661]

For those of you who love words, you will note that these recipes both refer to the food ‘soaking’. It does not mean marinading. ‘To soak’ also used to mean to soak up heat, and specifically "To bake (bread, etc.) thoroughly". Words are Fun, aren’t they?

Tomorrow’s Story …

Heavenly Beer.

This Day, Last Year …

We ate at the summit of Mt Everest.

Quotation for the Day …

The art of cooking as practised by Englishmen does not extend much beyond roast beef and plum pudding". Pehr Kalm a Swedish visitor to England, in 1748

The Queen’s Beef.

Today, January 17th …

Queen Victoria was at her favourite home of Osborne, on the Isle of Wight on this day in 1899. She was a few months shy of her 80th birthday, and this is what was on the menu for luncheon:

Potage aux huitres.
Oeufs brouilles aux truffes.
Côtelletes de Veau à l’Allemande.
Poulets decoupés à l’Anglaise.
Boeuf braise au Macaroni.
Faisans à la Casserole.
Chicorée à la crème.
Poulets rôtis.

Buffet.
Cold Rt Fowls. Cold Rt. Beef.
Cold Tongue Spiced Beef.
Galantine Game Pie.
Salade Normande.

Soufflés à la Circassienne.
Crème de Pêches à la Montreuil.
Petits Gâteaux Condés

Some of Her Majesty’s subjects who had the misfortune to be residents of a workhouse on this exact Tuesday in 1899 had, for their midday (main) meal:

Vegetable broth
Bread 4 oz
Cheese 2 oz
Dumplings 8 oz

Did the Good Queen agonise over this difference while she picked and nibbled her way around her lunch (did she have all her own teeth by then)?. It seems unlikely, but perhaps I am being uncharitable.

History has not usually seen fit to record the names of the individuals who functioned as cooks in the workhouses, and I don’t know who was the Good Queen’s chef in 1899 – perhaps some other historian can enlighten me. Her best known chef however – although he was in the role for less than a year - was the Anglo-Italian, Charles Elmé Francatelli. He left her service in 1842, so was not responsible for today’s menu, but food fashions did not change quickly during the Victorian regime, and we can be fairly confident that the dishes in his book The Modern Cook, published in 1860 would still have been the standard in 1899.

Francatelli gives a selection of braised beef dishes, all variations on the following theme:

Braised Roll of Beef, a la Flamande.
Take a piece of sirloin of beef, well covered with fat, weighing about twenty pounds; bone it, leaving the fillet adhering to the upper part; daube or interlard the fillet in a slanting position, by inserting with a large daubing needle some pieces of ham or bacon about a quarter of an inch square and four inches long; then roll the beef up close, and fasten it round with a string so as to secure its shape. Break up the bones and place them with the trimmings at the bottom of a braizing pan; then place the roll of beef on the bones, and garnish with four carrots, four onions, with a clove stuck in each, four heads of celery, and a faggot of parsley with thyme and a bay leaf, and two blades of mace; moisten with half a bottle of sherry and two glasses of brandy; set the whole on the stove to simmer for about ten minutes, then add a sufficient quantity of good stock or consommé, nearly to cover the beef; place thereon a well-buttered paper, and, after having caused it to boil, set the braizing pan to continue gently boiling on a smothered stove for about five or six hours: the time for this must be regulated by the degree of tenderness of the meat. When the beef is done, drain, trim, and put it into a convenient-sized pan, containing a little of the liquor in which it has been braized; and with a portion of the remaining part, work some brown sauce for the remove; boil the rest down, and with this glaze the beef. Place it on a dish, garnish round with alternate groups of turned and glazed carrots and turnips, glazed onions, and Brussels-sprouts; pour the sauce above alluded to round the dish, glaze the beef, and send to table.

Tomorrow’s Story …

An Extraordinary Banquet.

A Previous Story for this Day …

Popeye and Spinach.

On this Topic …

We have previously looked at the menu for Queen Victoria’s Christmas Dinner in 1899.

Quotation for the Day …

And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait/ Because I have a luncheon date. John Betjeman