Thumb-bits

Do you like a thumb-bit for a quick snack? I do, although I admit it is not an elegant meal. It is just right for some occasions however - such as when you are cleaning out the fridge and some of the scraps are too tempting to scrap, or when the desire for a supper snack cannot be resisted, or when it is too late for breakfast but too early for lunch and you are not pretentious enough for brunch.

It is obvious that I have been doing some foraging for old food words. A ‘thumb-bit’ is a piece of meat eaten on bread, and is so called for the obvious reason that the thumb is used to secure the meat in place. Delightful, isn’t it? Sounds more fun than ‘open sandwich’, doesn’t it?

The word is recorded in A dictionary of archaic and provincial words, obsolete phrases … (1847). The nineteenth century was a time of great interest in ‘lost’ English dialects, and there are many similar texts waiting to provide linguistic fodder for us in the coming weeks and months.

For added historical interest, you can, if you wish, use your thumb not to hold the meat on a vapid modern slice of white foamy stuff, but on a substantial large piece or ‘dad-of-bread.’ This treat is courtesy of Brockett’s Glossary of North Country Words (1825). A plain meat sandwich is getting more interesting and more fun all the time, isn’t it?

I have, I think, chosen an interesting recipe for the day. It is a sandwich. It is true that it is more complicated and more elegant than our thumb-bit, but who needs a recipe for a piece of meat on bread? It is attractive on a number of counts. It sounds interestingly savoury and tasty, which should be reason enough. It is versatile, which is always a virtue in a sandwich. It would, methinks, make a marvellous canapé, if cut as suggested, or a marvellously substantial snack if left intact. It requires a ‘knife-point’ amount to be spread on the bread – and when did you last see an instruction like that in a recipe book?

It is also impossible to resist the title of the book from whence it came - Culina Famulatrix Medicinae: or, Receipts in Modern Cookery, with a Medical Commentary, written by Ignotus (York, 1806). How many publishers of cookery books today would accept a title in Latin? Have we cookbook buyers become dumbed down?

A Cheshire Sandwich.
Take anchovies, Cheshire cheese, and butter, of each equal parts. Made mustard to the taste. Pound in a marble mortar till all the ingredients become well incorporated. Spread a knife-pointful of this upon slices of white bread, and between two pieces put a thin slice of ham, or any kind of cold meat. Press together, and with a sharp knife, divide the sandwich into mouthfuls.

Quotation for the Day.
Too few people understand a really good sandwich.
James Beard.

Leftover Sandwiches.

After the sandwich feast of yesterday, I thought we should consider the aftermath of an over-catering situation. Even in the best run households, sometimes there are leftover sandwiches. Even in the worst-run households of yester-year, even leftover sandwiches were not left to go to waste.

The author of one of yesterday’s sources - Something New in Sandwiches (1932) -advised that “Leftover sandwiches can be converted into dainty breakfast or supper dishes or useful everyday puddings …”. Here are a couple of her ideas for recycling the relics of your railway journey, afternoon tea-party, or picnic.

Savoury Slips.
Take fish or other savoury sandwiches, dip them in thin batter, fry golden-brown and sprinkle with chopped parsley.

Savoury Balls.
Put ham or similar sandwiches through the mincer, bind with beaten egg, roll into balls, cover with breadcrumbs and fry in deep fat in a frying basket.

Here is a recipe for a batter suitable for frying leftover sandwiches, from the Cookery Gift Book (c 1920’s?)

Leftover Sandwiches.
Leftover sandwiches, whether sweet or savoury, can be utilised by dipping them in batter and frying them in deep fat.
3 oz flour, pinch of salt, 1 dessertspoonful salad oil, 1 gill warm water, 1 or 2 egg whites.
Sift the flour with the salt, make a well in the centre and pour in the oil. Then add the warm water gradually and mix to a smooth batter. Beat it well, and let it stand for an hour or so. When ready to fry the sandwiches, whisk the egg-white stiffly and fold it into the batter. Coat a few of the sandwiches with the prepared batter, and fry in deep fat till they are golden. Then drain them. Coat and fry the other sandwiches in the same way. Serve them as soon as possible, before they lost their crispness.

Quotation for the Day.

Princess was the kind of person who can fry a chicken, wrap it in cool, crisp lettuce leaves, box it, cut sandwiches, and come out of the process with an unruffled temper and an immaculate kitchen.
Edna Ferber, in Fanny Herself.

The British Railway Sandwich.

The passenger railway business began in the north of England with the opening of the Stockton to Darlington railway line on September 27, 1829. For some years the steam locomotive had been used to pull coal-wagons, but on this day, a passenger carriage carrying a number of no doubt very excited and honoured dignitaries was attached. The man they called “The Father of Railways” , George Stephenson (1781-1848) was in the driving seat on that inaugural ride.

Within a few decades railway lines criss-crossed many countries, and made it possible for many more people to become “travellers”. As we do nowadays, before setting off on a rail journey passengers could do their travel homework by reading the accounts and hints from those who had “been there, done that.” A little over two decades after Stephenson’s train line carried the north country notables on that first ride, there were already several guides to would-be passengers. Today’s advice about how to ensure one does not go hungry en route come from Hints to Railway Travellers, and country visitors to London, by an Old Stager (1852)

“Carry your own provisions, by which means you can dine when you are hungry instead of when the railway directors think you ought to be. Chickens cut up, and tongue sliced, with bread,biscuits, cakes and so on are most convenient. Don’t forget the salt. Buy sandwiches if you do buy.

The quickest Express generally gives time for drinking, but if you don t like getting out of the carriage, you can add sherry and water, or brandy and water, to the stock. Ask how long the train stops before you alight and on no account attempt to do so before it stops.”

Sandwiches, sandwiches, sandwiches. Make or buy sandwiches became the standard advice to railway passengers. Railway refreshment room supervisors heard the call, and invented the infamous “British Railway Sandwich.”

It was some time before cookery books devoted to the sandwich were published, but when they did, some even had special sections on sandwiches suitable for railway journeys. One of those books was Something New in Sandwiches, by M. Redington White (1932). Recipes were given for sandwiches in various categories – simple savoury, special savoury, vegetarian, afternoon tea, sweet biscuit etc., and various combinations were suggested for taking onto the train.


Menus for Railway Journeys.

1. Cress, Ham, Tomato, Apple.
2. Cheddar Cheese, Beetroot, Beef, Apricot.
3. Cream Cheese, Celery, Kidney, Green Pea, Lemon.
4. Sausage, Broad Bean, Banana, Orange.
5. Egg, Roe, Lettuce, Strawberry.
6. Sole, Liver, Russian Salad, Melon.
7. Cabbage, Pork, Apple, Walnut.
8. Chicken, Asparagus, Greengage, Orange.

It is good to see that many of the books ensured that the dessert course was covered too. We have had many sandwich recipes before, but here are some sweet ideas from Salads and Sandwiches, by Mary M. Wright (Philadelphia, 1917)

Mint Sandwiches.
Pear preserves, Fresh mint, Bread and butter.
To each pint of thick pear preserves add about a fourth cupful of fresh mint chopped fine. Use as a filler between thin slices of buttered bread.

Ginger and Orange Sandwiches.
Candied orange peel, Preserved ginger, Orange juice, Ginger syrup
Chop the candied orange peel and the preserved ginger until fine, using an equal quantity of each. Mix in enough of ginger syrup and orange juice to make it of the right consistency. Spread on thin slices of bread spread with unsalted butter.


College Sandwiches.
Peanut butter, Sweet milk chocolate
Bread and butter
Grate the chocolate and stir into the peanut butter, and spread on thin slices of buttered bread. These make nourishing sandwiches that are excellent for the children’s school lunches.


Pineapple Sandwiches.
Preserved pineapple, dates, pineapple juice, Bread and Butter
Chop the preserved pineapple, and add half as much chopped dates. Mix into a paste with a little pineapple juice, or syrup from the preserved pineapple. Spread on thin slices of white or brown bread, and form into sandwiches.



Sandwich recipes can also be found at:
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2005/11/green-butter-and-art-of-sandwiches.html
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2006/10/eating-in-air.html
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2006/11/public-picnic-for-prince.html
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2007/01/death-of-queen.html
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2007/03/new-potato.html
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2007/07/all-about-cucumbers.html
http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com/2007/11/with-foxhounds.html

Quotation for the Day.

If they want to get rid of me, they'll get rid of me through British Rail
sandwiches.
Tony Benn, September 1984

A Motoring Excursion.

Today is the anniversary of the arrival in San Francisco of Alice Huyler Ramsey (1887-1983), fifty-nine days after she set off from New York in 1909. She was the first woman to drive across the entire North American subcontinent – and she did it at a time when very few men could drive (because the automobile was a rare novelty), and a full decade before women got the vote.

Alice performed the feat as a publicity stunt for the company that made the car she travelled in – a green, 30 HP, four-cylinder Maxwell that could reach an astonishing
top speed of 40 mph. There being a dearth of auto mechanics en route, Alice herself changed the tires multiple times and made many other mechanical repairs en route.

It was not long before the motor-car became the transport method of choice of course – opening up a whole new range of picnic possibilities for lucky owners. Any invention brings in its wake a cascade of sub-inventions – some of you may have a ‘sock’ for your i-Phone, perhaps? The motor-car was no exception. The magazine
Popular Mechanics, of June 1917 described a new, very desirable accessory:

“An automobile lunchbox, designed and manufactured in Portland, Ore., is designed to be carried on the running board of a car, to which it may be attached by means of two small thumbscrews while traveling. It is shaped like a suitcase. One side lets down to form a picnic table, and the box contains a series of hinged and swinging drawers for food and bottles, also a metal-lined ice box with water drain, and a plate and linen compartment.”

Sadly for those of us more interested in what Alice, rather than the car, might have consumed en route across the country, there seems to be very little information. In her honour therefore, I give you a selection of travel-inspired ideas quite suitable for your next motoring excursion, from Sandwiches, by Sarah Tyson Heston Rorer, pubished in 1912.


East Indian Lentil Sandwiches.
Take any leftover boiled or stewed lentils, and press them through a sieve. To each half cupful of this mixture add a half cupful of chopped pecans, a level teaspoonful of curry and a saltspoonful of salt. Spread thin slices of brown bread with butter, then put over a thick layer of this mixture and cover with chopped parsley. Cover with another layer of brown bread, press together, trim the crusts and cut into fingers.

German Sandwiches
Put an pound of Swiss cheese through the meat grinder; add to it the yolks of two eggs, four tablespoonfuls of olive oil, a dash of cayenne and half a teaspoonful of sat. Rub until you have a perfectly smooth paste. Put this mixture between layers of buttered rye bread and serve. Do not trim the crusts nor cut.

Filipino Sandwiches.
Add one grated pineapple to a tumbler of peanut butter, mix thoroughly, add a tablespoonful of lemon juice, a dash of cayenne, a half teaspoonful of paprika. Put this between thin slices of brown bread, buttered; press together and cut into halves.


Turkish Sandwiches.
Chop sufficient cold roasted mutton to make a pint; add two solid tomatoes from a can of tomatoes, or two fresh tomatoes, peeled, the seeds pressed out and the flesh chopped fine. Add half a cupful of piñons or pine nuts, and sufficient olive oil to bind the whole together. Spread this between thin, warm milk or beaten biscuits and serve for afternoon tea or supper.

Quotation for the Day.

A month before the season, I don’t order fries with my club sandwich.
Mario Lemeiux