Potatoes for Breakfast, Dinner, Supper (WW I era)

An American “Southern Food Expert and Lecturer” by the name of Bessie R. Murphy compiled and edited a wonderful set of books called the Three Meals a Day Series during World War II. Each volume was dedicated to

Somebody Somewhere

To be used by

Everybody Everywhere

The editor explains her mission in the Introduction:

This little series of books is a collection of tested and economical recipes for everyday foods that are obtainable everywhere and suitable for any of the three meals of the day. These recipes are written in plain, everyday terms. They are not all original — the authors of many of them are unknown. They form just a little series of everyday books for everybody from everywhere.

The World War gave every homemaker an opportunity to realize the difference between use and abuse of foods. For years we have wasted much of the bountiful supply of food produced by our country. Let us then not go backward, but let us go forward, bending every energy to make lasting the benefit in health and economy gained from a diet that not only eliminates extravagance and waste in buying and serving, but also affords greater variety.

The recipes in this series call for flour, sugar, and butter. To conserve these three foods just as long as our country and the peoples of Europe need them is the loyal and patriotic duty of — not the other fellow — but you.

The principle concept was to give recipes based on a single staple item which were suitable for one or more of the three main meals of the day. I do love that theme. To date I have found volumes focused on rice, corn meal, peanuts, legumes, salad and potatoes. I have featured several of these in previous posts (see the links below) but have not so far covered the potato – which is a strange oversight given that I have not yet met a potato I didn’t like. Today I want to rectify that omission.

Note that in the following recipes the editor refers to the white potato as the “Irish” or “English” potato (Solanum tuberosum) to distinguish it from the sweet potato (Ipomoea batatas) – which, to add confusion to the puzzle, is in some regions referred to as the yam (Family Dioscoreaceae) which it  most certainly is not. Sweet potatoes are covered in the second half of the book, and I will surely make them the subject of another post in the future.

So, how do you fancy your breakfast potatoes?

For my American friends, who persist in calling a scone a biscuit, and a biscuit a cookie (in spite of which I love you anyway) I have chosen:

Irish Potato Biscuit

1 cup mashed potatoes                            1 tablespoon butter

1 cup flour                                                    1 tablespoon lard

4 teaspoons baking powder                   ½ cup milk (scant)

½ teaspoon salt

Sift the dry ingredients. Add these to the potatoes, mixing well. Work in lightly the butter and lard. Add gradually enough milk to make a soft dough. Put it on floured board, roll lightly to about inch thickness, cut in biscuit shape, place in greased pan, and bake in hot oven.

For my own breakfast, I have chosen

Irish Potato Omelet

1 cup potatoes (mashed)                        3 teaspoons milk

3 eggs                                                            ¼ teaspoon pepper

1 teaspoon salt

Break the eggs and separate the yolks and the whites. Beat the yolks and add them to the potatoes, beating until mixture is light and there are no lumps. Add seasoning. Beat the whites until they are stiff and carefully fold them into the mixture. Put the omelet into a well-greased frying pan and bake it in the oven until it is brown. Turn the omelet out on a hot platter and serve it at once.

For dinner, I feel sure that the concept of cheesy mashed potatoes will not cause any international disagreement:

Baked Irish Potato and Cheese

2 cups cooked potatoes                          2 tablespoons butter

4 tablespoons grated cheese                 ¼ cup milk

1 teaspoon salt

Run the potatoes through a sieve, melt the butter in a saucepan, add the potatoes, and mix well. Then add the milk, half the cheese, and the seasoning. Put into well-greased baking dish, sprinkle the rest of the cheese on the top, and bake in hot oven about 10 minutes.

And for dessert, who can resist a doughnut?

Irish Potato Doughnuts

1 ¼ cups sugar                            ½ teaspoon each nutmeg and cinnamon

3 tablespoons butter                 1 teaspoon salt

3 eggs                                              1 cup mashed potatoes

1 cup milk                                      Flour to roll

4 teaspoons baking powder

Cream one-half of the sugar with the butter. Add the remaining sugar and the milk to the well-beaten eggs. Combine the two mixtures. To the cooled potatoes add the dry ingredients sifted together. Mix thoroughly, put on a well-floured board, and roll out and cut. Fry a few doughnuts at a time in deep hot fat.

It is supper time, and what better time to use up leftover mashed potato and cold cooked meat? And as a bonus, you don’t need to put the deep fryer away after dinner!

Irish Potato Surprises

2 cups mashed potatoes                         1 egg

¼ cup cold cooked meat                        Bread crumbs

¼ teaspoon salt                                        Dash of paprika

½ teaspoon onion juice                          1 tablespoon parsley

To the mashed potatoes, add the salt, pepper, onion juice, and half the parsley. Mix well. Add the rest of the parsley to the chopped meat and season well. Flatten out a teaspoonful of the potato mixture and place a teaspoonful of the meat mixture in the center. Fold the potatoes around the meat, then shape into a roll, being sure that the meat is well covered. Roll balls in bread crumbs, then in the well-beaten egg, again in bread crumbs, and fry in hot fat until a golden brown.

As a final act of homage to the potato, I give you the instructions from the book for drying your own potatoes:

Dried Irish Potatoes

In many parts of the country, owing to weather conditions and improper storage, hundreds of bushels of potatoes spoil by rotting. To prevent this waste the potatoes can be dried. Blanch the potatoes about 3 minutes in boiling water, remove, peel, and slice or cut into cubes. Dry in the sun, in oven of the stove, or in a homemade dryer. When they are dry, run them into a hot oven until heated through. This will prevent bugs and weevils. Put into jars or cans. Soak the potatoes ½ hour before using them.

Previous post from the Three Meals a Day series:

From Rice for Breakfast, Dinner, Supper.

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2009/10/rice-for-breakfast.html

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2015/12/rice-at-every-meal-1919.html

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2016/01/variations-on-theme-of-fried-rice.html

From Salads for Breakfast, Dinner, Supper.

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2015/12/salads-for-breakfast-dinner-supper.html

From Legumes for Breakfast, Dinner, Supper.

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2014/07/the-bone-bean.html

         

Cod Liver Oil, & the Food of the Shetlanders, 1872.

Today I bring you a small part of an article from The Food Journal: A Review of Social and Sanitary Economy and Monthly Record of Food and Public Health, Volume 3 (London, 1873.) The topic of Shetland: Its Manners and Diet was covered over two editions of the journal, and the author began by noting:

“Until within the last few years, Shetland was almost a terra incognita, and the visitors to its bleak and barren shores were few. The state of things is greatly changed; the number of tourists increases every year, and, indeed, Ultima Thule bids fair to be as regularly "done" as any other fashionable resort of the pleasure-seeking Briton. The absurd notions entertained respecting Shetland, its climate, and its people, are, as a consequence, rapidly vanishing, to be replaced by others more correct.”

The second part of the feature covered the fisheries and the food of the people.

The Food of the People.

Every fisherman in Shetland is also a farmer, having five or six acres of ground, the produce of which supplies him with the greater part of the oatmeal he requires for himself and his family, and at the same time with fodder for his cattle. Each patch is cultivated by manual labour, the chief implement used being the tuiscar, or native spade, and in the vore, or labouring season, every member of the family capable of working, male and female, is pressed into the service. . The usual crops are black oats - the light-coloured or  Scotch kind, though much better and yielding more meal, not being reckoned so suitable to the climate – beans, potatoes, and turnips. As the Shetlanders sow the same ground year after year without intermission, the soil, naturally poor, soon becomes completely worn out, and they are obliged to recruit its exhausted strength by the imposition of fresh earth. This, which they call truck, is brought from the neighbouring scathold, or outlying and uncultivated district, with great pains and labour, and is formed into a kind of compost before being used. In consequence of this constant scalping, the ground for a considerable distance around each hamlet is as bare and barren as a stony desert.

The staple article of diet among the Shetlanders is fish, and so fond are they of it that they could eat it at every meal, and never wish a change. What they call the greyfish, or sillock, already alluded to, is the most esteemed. These swarm in countless numbers along the coasts, and whenever weather will permit every spare moment is spent in catching them. It is surprising how a man will sit on the rocks, or in his boat, on a cold winter day, regardless of the piercing winds and driving sleet, till he has filled his "buddie," and so secured the evening's meal and next morning's supply. In cooking these fishes the people boil them with potatoes, as it is supposed that a finer relish is thus imparted to the latter. The piltock, which is the sillock in its second year, is with all classes reckoned a great delicacy, especially when eaten cold with vinegar. Sillocks and piltocks are used fresh, or sour, or "blawn." The "sour" are semi-putrid, but are much liked notwithstanding. "Blawn" sillocks are those which have been dried for some time in the open air. Before they can be used they must be thoroughly soaked in water, and even then are very insipid. Great quantities of these are regularly prepared by every family for winter consumption, and hung in rows under the roof of their houses. The skate is also in great repute, and in summer it is common to see two or three hung up at every door, drying in the sun. Like the "blawn" sillocks, they need to be thoroughly steeped in water before they can be used. With plenty of butter they are very fine. The larger fish, such as cod and ling, are not much eaten, and the people imagine that they are not so good for the health as the grey-fish; but the chief reason doubtless is that the cod and others mentioned are reckoned the property of the tacksman, and to appropriate them would be little better than theft. Turbot is used in its season, and, among the very poorest, even the dog-fish is used for food, but only in the absence of everything else. The roe of the cod boiled entire is an excellent dish, and the same, mixed with flour, is formed into a paste called "slot," which is eaten fried with grease or suet. The cod is eaten with its own oil, and this dish, which the Shetlanders like very much, is called "fish and gree." Many a hearty meal is made of the heads and livers of the cod, after the fish has been prepared for salting.

In taking their meals, the Shetlanders do not arrange themselves around a table, but each person sits wherever he finds most convenient. The pot, with the potatoes, stands near the fire, and the fish is laid upon a square wooden platter with raised sides, called a "trough," and placed upon a small table. No knives or forks are used, but every one helps himself with his fingers, and holds a bit of fish in one hand and a potato in the other. In every house there is a pig or two, which the family either use for themselves or send to the market. The Shetland native pig is not an attractive specimen of its kind, and its flesh is not the best of pork, the quality by no means being improved by the feeding, which almost always imparts to it a fishy taste. The flesh of fowls is affected in the same way. These last are small, but are very tender when young. Beef and mutton are not extensively used among the lower classes in Shetland, but it is not uncommon for two or three families to join in having a cow killed at Martinmas for their winter's stock of provisions. This was until recently the invariable custom with the better classes, but now fresh meat can be had all the year round. The beasts intended for slaughter are entirely grass-fed, and generally from ten to twelve years old, at which time they are considered to be in prime condition. The meat is very fine, but shrinks considerably in boiling.

Tea is a favourite beverage with the Shetlanders, and the value of yearly imports is considerably more than the rental of the whole country. With a great many it is as much an article of extravagant dissipation as whisky is in other places. It is drunk without cream or sugar, and generally boiled. Sometimes a piece of lump-sugar is held in the mouth, which sweetens the tea as it is swallowed. The bread eaten with it is oat-cake, which is used in almost every house throughout the isles. Wheaten or bakers' bread has, however, lately begun to come into use, even among the peasantry; but formerly it was a thing scarcely ever seen in any family, and when it was procured it was enjoyed as a great delicacy. The Shetlanders also use oatmeal porridge, but not so much as the lower orders in Scotland. In winter, boiled cabbage, potatoes, and fish are commonly taken at supper.

The Shetlanders are not a drunken people, but although they are all very fond of a glass of spirits at times, they generally contrive to keep within due bounds. Their principal times for rejoicing are Old Christmas Day, New Year's Day, Johnsmas (St. John's day), and the foy, which every boat's crew has at the close of the haaf fishery. Even at such times it is very rare that there is much excess of any kind.

Owing to the exceedingly healthy nature of the climate and the temperate lives of the people, many of the Shetlanders attain a great age.

The famous Victorian chef, Alexis Soyer was well aware of the common prescription of cod-liver oil by the medical men of the day – although clearly the hardy folk of the Shetlands would have had no such need. In his book A Shilling Cookery for the People (London, 1854) Soyer noted:

Being aware of the immense quantity of cod-liver oil taken by delicate persons, now-a-days, and the great benefit derived from its use, I asked the medical officer present his opinion of its efficacy.  Nothing can be better," was his reply, "in many cases. But," said he, "many patients cannot take it, being of such an unpleasant taste, more especially children, and as we in this establishment use the second quality, from motives of economy, it is doubly unpleasant." I myself tasted some, and must say that I found it anything but relishing.

After bidding adieu to the doctor, I and my host left, and while returning to my hotel, I thought that something could be done to alter the present unpleasant way of administering it. Accordingly, upon reaching home, I sent for the following:—

103. One pound of fresh cod-liver; I then peeled and steamed two pounds of nice floury potatoes, then cut the liver in four pieces, placed it over the potatoes, and then steamed them, letting the oil from the liver fall on the potatoes; I then made some incisions in the liver with a knife, to extract the remaining oil, afterwards dishing up the liver, which was eaten with a little melted butter and anchovy sauce. The potatoes were served up with a little salt and little salt and pepper. Both dishes were found extremely good.

The following is another way of extracting the oil of a cod's liver, with the aid of that abundant article, rice.

104. Rice and Cod Liver.—Boil half a pound of rice in two quarts of water. When nearly done, remove three parts of the water; then put over your rice a pound of cod's liver, cut in large dice. Put the saucepan in a slow oven for about thirty minutes, by which time it will be nicely cooked. Then take the liver out, which serve as above directed. Stir the rice with a fork, and serve it; if allowed by a medical man, add a little salt and pepper. If no oven, cook the liver and rice on a very slow fire, for otherwise it would burn, and be unwholesome as food.

Of course you can easily see what a blessing such diet as this must be to a person incapable of taking the oil by itself, as, by mixing it with the food, it entirely loses that rancid quality for which it is proverbial.

105. Tapioca and Cod Liver.—Boil a quarter of a pound of tapioca till tender in two quarts of water; drain it in a cullender, then put it back in the pan; season with a little salt and pepper, add half a pint of milk, put over one pound of fresh cod liver, cut in eight pieces. Set your pan near the fire to simmer slowly for half an hour, or a little more, till your liver is quite cooked. Press on it with a spoon, so as to get as much oil into the tapioca as possible. After taking away the liver, mix the tapioca. If too thick, add a little milk, then boil it a few minutes; stir round, add a little salt and pepper, and serve. If you have a slow oven, use it in preference to the fire; but if you are without an oven, here is another good way of cooking it:

106. Put three inches depth of water in a largish pan; then put the pan containing the tapioca in the above-mentioned pan; let it simmer till quite done. It will take about an hour. By adopting this plan, all fear of burning is obviated; afterwards remove the liver, which serve as at No. 103.

107. Sago, or semolina, may be done the same way, and by adding an egg, it will make a delicate pudding; or by cutting the liver in small dice, you may add it to your pudding, putting in a little more milk to make it moist; then add a couple more eggs, well beaten, and mix; putting it in a basin, previously well buttered; then let it simmer in a stewpan for half an hour, or till set; then turn it out on a dish; sauce with a little plain melted butter, anchovy, or parsley and butter.

A little stringent food, such as the above, will be found to be very refreshing, even to persons in good health.

Ways of Making Your Fat Ration Go Further

The British Wartime Ministry of Food’s Food Facts leaflets are one of my favourite things, as regular readers would be aware. Today I want to give you another example: Food Facts No. 258 was published in June 1945.

FOOD FACTS.

Ways of making your FAT ration go further.

While there is a world shortage of fats, these simple suggestions for extending the fat ration will be helpful to every housewife.

Before you cook your meat, trim off any spare fat and set it aside. If any of the family don’t like fat, cut off some before serving.

To render down the fat, cut the scraps up small and put in a tin in a slow or moderate oven. Don’t let them burn. When melted, strain off the fat into a bowl. This makes splendid fat for all cooking purposes.

Dripping or fat which has been saved from roasting, tops  of stews, gravy, and so on can be used for cakes, pastry and frying, after it has been clarified, or cleaned. Fat tasting of onion is only suitable for frying, or savoury pastry,

Put the fat into a saucepan and cover with water. Bring it slowly to boil, pour into a basin, and leave it to cool. The fat will set on the top in a hard white lid. Scrape away any scraps from the underside, then melt again in a saucepan – without any water – and heat until it stops bubbling.

Clarified fat can be used for cakes and pastry, and for sandwich spreads.

FAT-SAVING recipes.

Dripping Spread: Use dripping from the joint alone, or mixed with any of the following: salt and pepper, chopped pickle, meat extract, chopped onion or leek, bottle sauce or chutney, herbs, vinegar, grated cheese.

Savoury Spread: 2 oz. dripping; 1 or 2 spring onions, finely chopped: 1 teaspoon of vegetable or meat extract; 3 teaspoons Worcester sauce; pepper and salt. Slightly melt the dripping and beat well. Add the othe ingredients and beat again. Both of these spreads make delicious sandwiches.

Steamed Chocolate Pudding (without fat): 6 oz. plain flour; 1 level tablespoon cocoa; 4 level teaspoons baking powder; 2 oz. sugar; 1 level tablespoon dried egg; pinch of salt; milk (or milk and water) to mix. Sift all dry ingredients together, beat to a thick batter with milk. Pour into greased basin, cover, and steam 1 ¼ hours.

AN APPEAL TO HOUSEWIVES.

It will be a great help to your shopkeeper if you get your ration of cooking fat

once a fortnight instead of every week.

A Banquet of Unfired Food (1909)

It was impossible to resist going back to our source of a few days ago for some more blog fodder. How could I resist a title like Unfired Foods and Hygienic Dietetics for Prophylactic Feeding and Therapeutic Feeding? As its title suggests, the book promoted raw food as a healthy eating option, and it included a significant number of recipes as well as several menus. But before we get to the details, please enjoy one of the front pages, which contained a mission statement of sorts:

Let it be understood

that this book

is written for those who

“EAT TO LIVE”

and to

CURE

those who

LIVE TO EAT.

It is useless to study

ASTRONOMY

without a foundation

in rational

GASTRONOMY

I give you a suggested banquet menu from the book:

A BANQUET MENU

Served in 8 Courses.

COURSE ONE.

Serve only one of the following dishes:

An apple cut into eight sections and arranged to represent a lotus.

An orange with the peeling turned down to represent a flower.

A banana stuffed with a few nuts and peeling replaced.

COURSE TWO.

Serve about one ounce of one of the following foods for nibblers:

Pecan meats, carobs, chufas, dried olives (one-half ounce).

COURSE THREE.

Serve one of the following health drinks:

A lemonade. Orangeade. Fruit frappee. Tamarade. Rhubarbade.

Fresh cider. Fresh grape juice. Near-milk.

COURSE FOUR.

Serve according to the convenience of the season:

A fruit salad, an herbal salad, a salad pie or a flower salad.

COURSE FIVE.

Serve a small dish of cereal foods as neatly as you can prepare them:

Brownfood. Honey flakes. Evaporated fruit flakes. Pound cake.

Fruit bread.

COURSE SIX.

This course is optional.

Lentil surprise salad (small dish). One ounce of either lemon, cottage cheese, horseradish, cheese, cranberry savory cheese or cereal confections.

COURSE SEVEN.

Serve a small dish of the following preparations for dessert :

Banana mousse. Berry sauce. Apple sauce. Plain dessert.

COURSE FINALE.

Serve the fingerbowl.

When so many courses are served each individual dish must be comparatively small. A menu of six courses is long enough for most festive occasions.

I was baffled by Near-milk and Brownfood. The former is explained, but the latter is not.

NEAR MILK

Near-milk is prepared like near-buttermilk, with the exception that in place of the rhubarb juice only pure water or orange juice is used. This milk is wholesome, delicious, appetizing, cooling and refreshing. All the infectious diseases, such as consumption, lumpjaw and several fevers which may be transmitted to man in cows milk are barred out of near-milk.

NEAR BUTTERMILK

Soak in a cup 3/4 full of water

1 oz. Flax seed and beat it about every ten minutes during the course of one hour with a rotary eggbeater. Before beating the last time fill the cup nearly full with water and then let the seed settle. Meanwhile mix and rub into a cream

1 oz. Pignolias or Peanuts flaked exceedingly fine and

½ oz. Rhubarb Juice. Put this cream into a cup and add

3 ½ oz. Rhubarb Juice and beat it briskly with a rotary beater and then add

3 ½ oz. Flaxseed fluid and beat it again briskly. Now pour it through a large tea strainer, stirring the while, to keep it from clogging. Serve in a glass with a teaspoon or rye straw. At your option you may add a half ounce honey (teaspoonful). 

Fig-Sue for Good Friday.

I came across a charming – but sadly, now defunct – Good Friday food tradition recently, and wanted to share it with you today.

My source was The Remains of John Briggs (1825), in the chapter Westmoreland As It Was.

It would formerly have been counted extremely profane, not to have dined, or at least supped upon, fig-sue, on Good Friday. This was made of ale, figs, and wheat bread. It may not be amiss to note that this fig-sue is a perfect cure for coughs and colds, if taken at bedtime.

I then came across this little snippet, which reveals a Scottish connection:

Customs of Scotland: ‘Fig-one’ is a mixture consisting of ale, sliced figs, bread, and nutmeg for seasoning: boiled together, and eaten hot like soup. The custom of eating this on Good Friday is still prevalent in North Lancashire, but the mixture is there known as ‘fig-sue,’ the origin of which term I am unable to make out. The dish is a very palatable one.

                        W.P.W. (Notes and Queries, 1864)

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the first known written reference to the name is to be found in 1851 in a glossary of Cumberland (a historic county of England, now part of Cumbria) and the word is a corruption of ‘fig soup.’

The association of the fig with Easter in the North-West England is further reinforced by the fact that Palm Sunday in Lancashire used to be also called ‘Fig Sunday,’ and Fig Pie was the traditional food. I would love to know a little more about this particular association. I suspect it has very ancient roots.

In the seventeenth century, figs were a feature of the Good Friday dinner at Brazen-nose [now Brasenose] College in Oxford, England, if we are to believe the following:

It was formerly the custom, at Brazen-nose College, for the scholars to ave almonds, raisins, and figs, for dinner on Good Friday, as appears by a receipt of thirty shillings, paid by the butler of the college, for ‘eleven pounds of almonds, thirty-five pounds of raisins, and thirteen pounds of figs, serv’d into Brazen-nose College, Mar. 28^th, 1662. – Pointer’s Oxon. Acad. P.71

Times Telescope (1826)

That is all I have for you at present, on figs at Easter, but I will certainly put the topic on my list of thing to look into further.

As the recipe for the day, I have a most strange and unappetizing idea from a book with the rather ominous, but intriguing, title of Unfired Foods and Hygienic Dietetics for Prophylactic Feeding and Therapeutic Feeding (1909) by George Julius Drews.

Cream of Fig Soup

Take

1 oz. Dried Figs, mince and soak them 4 to 6 hours in

2 oz. Tepid Water. Then add to this

1 oz. Pignolias or Peanuts flaked

¼ Teaspoon Fennel or Anise seed ground (optional) and

4 oz. Tepid Water, not scalding. Beat and serve in a bowl heated in boiling water.

Pease for Passion Day.

This Sunday is, according to the Christian Calendar, the fifth Sunday in Lent, which is called Passion Sunday or Care Sunday, and is the Sunday before Palm Sunday. It is the tradition in the north-eastern parts of Britain to eat a form of grey peas called carlin peas or carlings on this day. They are also traditionally eaten in the same part of the world on the fifth of November, Guy Fawkes Night (Bonfire Night) – which is when I remember eating them as a child.

The reason for the eating of these particular peas on these particular days is obscure. It seems probable that there is no religious significance at all, given there does not seem to be any connection between Passion Sunday and Guy Fawkes and the Gunfire Plot – and the fact that dried peas of one sort or another were basic fare for peasants for centuries, and for all classes in Lent. Several theories as to the tradition invoke the pease as being the cargo of a ship (usually Spanish) wrecked off the north-east coast of Britain and washed ashore at just the right time to save starving inhabitants or it being discovered and planted by curious gardeners. Other theories that I know of involve supplies of the pease saving besieged soldiers, and of it being a leftover of a pagan ritual of some sort -  but there are likely many more ideas out there in history-space.

First, what, exactly, is the carlin pea? It is a type of field pea, grown specifically for drying, as distinct from a garden pea, which is grown to be eaten fresh. Other common local names include Pigeon Peas (because they were and are still commonly grown to feed those birds), Parching Peas, Black Peas, Grey peas, Maple Peas, and Black, Brown, or Grey Badgers. There is considerable confusion as to the exact species of pea indicated by the common names across the centuries, and it is likely that different varieties have been used at different times in different regions.

The dried peas are prepared by soaking overnight and then boiling till soft, after which their preparation can take several directions, depending on regional tradition. They may be dried (parched) again, and eaten as one would eat peanuts, out of a paper bag (which is how I remember them), with salt and/or vinegar, or they may be fried in butter, and sweetened, or not, and have rum added, or not. Sometimes the soft boiled ‘mushy’ peas are mixed with other ingredients and made into patties or pancakes.

The word carlin, or carling itself is extremely interesting. Nineteenth century dictionaries reference a Gy-carling or Gyre-carling, and give various explanations:

An etymological dictionary of the Scottish language (1808) has a lengthy entry on

Gyre-Carling, of which the relevant points to this discussion are that the name may represent

-         The Queen of Fairies, who might carry off any unspun flax remaining on the last day of the year – causing the women of Fife into a fury of spinning before nightfall.

-         “Or may be allied to Geira, the name of one of the Valkyriur or Fates of the Gothic nations … they received their name from … val, slaughter, and kior, lots …

A Glossary of North Country Words, by John and William (1846) gives:

Gy-carling, a sort of mischievous elf; It was formerly a common instruction, on the Borders that on Carling Sunday a person must eat carlings till he was so full that the gy-carling could not get a “grip of his waim”.

The Scottish Dictionary and Supplement (1843) by John Jamieson has:

Carlin, Carling: an old woman …  A contemptuous term for a woman, although not far advanced in life; a witch …. The name given to the last handful of corn which is cut down in the harvest-filed, when it is not shorn before Hallowmass; when the harvest is finished about the ordinary time, it is called the Maiden …

Other sources describe the carlin or gy-carlin as a Hob-goblin, or as Hecate, the mother-witch of the peasants.

The Oxford English Dictionary has surprisingly little on the topic, giving the etymology of ‘carline, carling’ as arising from the Old Norse kerling = woman, especially old woman, and gives its meaning as:

Carline, Carling: A woman, esp. an old one; often implying contempt or disparagement…

There is clearly much more to discover on the history and folklore of carling peas. In the meantime, please enjoy the following recipe:

Pea Fritters or Cakes.

Cook a pint or three cups more peas than you need for dinner. Mash while hot with a wooden spoon, seasoning with pepper, salt, and butter. Put by until morning. Make a batter of two whipped eggs, a cupful of milk, quarter teaspoonful soda, a half teaspoonful cream tartar, and half a cup of flour. Stir the pea-mixture into this, beating very hard, and cook as you would ordinary griddle-cakes.

I can testify, from experience, that they make a delightful morning dish, and hereby return thanks to the unknown friend to whom I am indebted for the receipt.

Common Sense in the Household (New York, 1874) Marion Harland.

A Banquet for the Survivors of the Siege of Ladysmith.

A short while ago I wrote three posts (here, here, and here) about the siege of the South African city of Ladysmith in 1899-1900, during the second Boer War. I am delighted to be able to provide a follow-up story on how some of the besieged military men celebrated their survival over the next four decades.

The story comes courtesy of a Queensland regional newspaper, The Evening News (Rockhampton, Qld.) of 28 April 1939

Banquet to Celebrate Starvation

As 120 men sat at dinner in the Duke of York's headquarters, Chelsea, recently, their thoughts turned to the food they had eaten on the same night 39 years' ago.

Survivors of the siege of Ladysmith in the Boer War, they recalled their daily menu of four months:

3 oz. mealy corn.

Horse or mule.

1 gall. Red, muddy water condensed from the River Klip.

On Saturday night they had:

Soup.

Roast Beef, Horseradish Sauce,

and Yorkshire Pudding.

Roast Lamb, Mint. Sauce, Potatoes

and vegetables.

Macedoine of Fruit.               Fruit Trifle.

Cheese, Biscuits, and Butter.

Coffee.

Beer.

No wonder this experience draws together the survivors every year.

Some were prosperous. Others had been unemployed, and the dinner was almost as welcome as the siege ration.

Behind the chair drooped the famous faded Ladysmith Union Jack which hung proudly over the town hall throughout the siege.

At the first annual dinner in 1913, 450 [text unclear: maybe 250?] defenders turned up. Now the membership of the association is reduced to 150, and the baby is aged 60.

The recipe for the day commemorates another prolonged siege (seven months) of the second Boer war – that of the city of Mafeking (properly, Maheking.) I suspect the name of the dish was given to the simple steamed pudding on account of its frugal base of leftover bread.

From the Observer (Auckland, New Zealand) on 31 July, 1915:

HOW TO USE UP STALE BREAD.

However careful the housewife may be, odds and ends of stale bread are sure to accumulate, so I am giving this week some recipes for puddings, the chief ingredient of each of which, is bread. Of course, some of the scraps will be utilised to keep a supply of dried and browned breadcrumbs for fish and cutlets, but scraps accumulate very quickly, and some other means of using them up is necessary.

MAFEKING PUDDING.

Butter a basin, and line thickly with golden syrup. Take about ½ lb. stale breadcrumbs, 1 tablespoonful self-raising flour, 1 egg, sugar to taste, 1 tablespoonful chopped suet. Mix all together with a little milk, and pour into the basin. Steam for 1 ½ hours.