Friday, December 19, 2014

Christmas Dinner Menu, 1881.

At this time of the year, newspapers and magazines are usually full of recipe and menu suggestions for the Christmas season. I have chosen a menu suggestion (with an accompanying recipe) for you today from the Fort Wayne Daily Gazette (Fort Wayne, Indiana) on Saturday, December 24, 1881. The menu does add an interesting spin to the concept of the “traditional” Christmas dinner:

CHRISTMAS DINNER MENU
Raw Oysters.
Spanish Soup.
Boiled White fish. Lobster Sauce.
Potato Puffs.
Roast Leg of Mutton Stuffed. Stewed Cabbage with Cream Sauce.
Roast Turkey. Sweet Potatoes.
Cranberry Jelly. Oyster Salad.
Cheese. Celery. Wafers.
Plum Pudding. Mince Pie. Ice Cream and Cake.
Oranges. Grapes. Bananas. Nuts. Raisins.
Coffee.

Spanish Soup.

Cut into slices a head of celery, two onions, one carrot, two apples, and place them in a stewpan with one ounce of butter, a few allspice, a blade of mace, the rind of one lemon, some seasoning and two quarts of water; place on the fire and let boil. Add two pounds of neck of veal; take off the foam as it rises; when free from scum and sufficiently boiled to be cooked, add one quart of milk, let it simmer slowly for one hour, then strain it through a hair sieve; let it boil a few  minutes, then add half a pint of cream, stand the stewpan in not too hot a place after adding the cream; take out the stones from twelve olives, then cut them into very  thin slices, throw these into boiling water with a pinch of sugar and the same of salt added; boil two minutes, and then drain them in a sieve; pour the boiling soup into the tureen, throw in the slices of olives, and serve immediately.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Federal Reserve Bankers Christmas Dinner: 1966


I got mixed up. I admit it. Yesterday I intended to start the post with “On This Day in 1966,” but unfortunately (or fortunately) I got side-tracked due to having too much fun with my English visitors.

So – “On yesterday’s date in 1966”,  members of the San Francisco Federal Reserve Bank Club sat down to their “Christmas Party and Forty-Eighth Annual Meeting” at the Sheraton Palace Hotel. A group with a name like that has got to be fun-loving, right? I am unsure therefore, why they would chose to ruin their Christmas dinner with an Annual Meeting. However, they did, and this was their menu:-

Seafood Salad
Thousand Island Dressing
***
Assorted Relishes
***
Roast Prime Ribs of Beef
***
English Roast Potatoes
***
Buttered Asparagus
***
Coffee
***
Tia Maria Parfait
***
Petit Fours Secs.

I am also a bit puzzled why such a fun-sounding group would have such a boring menu. But what do I know about Federal Bankers and their meal preferences anyway?

For this rather Ho-Hum menu, I give you two versions of Thousand Island Dressing from the Elyria Chronicle Telegram [Elyria, Ohio] of August 9, 1967.

Thousand Island Dressing 1.
1 cup mayonnaise
2 hard-cooked eggs, chopped fine
2-4 tablespoons catsup
1 tablespoon finely chopped or grated white onion or shallot
Combine all the ingredients. Chill. Makes 1½ cups.
Recipe contributed by Mrs. Bernice Richards of Elyria, Ohio.


Thousand Island Dressing II.
1 cup mayonnaise
½ cup chilli sauce
1 tablespoon horseradish (optional)
1 ½ tablespoons minced onion
3 finely chopped hard-boiled eggs
¼ tablespoon minced green pepper
½ cup whipping cream, whipped.
Mix thoroughly and fold in the whipped cream just before serving.

This recipe was sent by Mrs. Bill Tidwell, of Oberlin.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

A Rhyming Recipe for Pudding.


I have featured rhyming recipes in a number of posts over the years (see the links below), and I have another one for you today. It is from The Dinner Question: Or, how to Dine Well and Economically (1860) by Tabitha Tickletooth (pseud. of Charles Silby.)

As rhyme is sometimes more impressive than reason, to complete my examples on this subject I will give you.

A Metrical Recipe for Christmas Pudding.
Air: Jeannette and Jeanot.

If you wish to make a pudding in which every one delights,
Of a dozen new-laid eggs you must take the yolks and whites;
Beat them well up in a basin till they thoroughly combine,
And shred and chop some suet particularly fine;

Take a pound of well-stoned raisins, and a pound of currants dried,
A pound of pounded sugar, and a pound of peel beside;
Stir them all well up together with a pound of wheaten flour,
And let them stand and settle for a quarter of an hour;

Then tie the pudding in a cloth, and put it in the pot,—
Some people like the water cold, and some prefer it hot;
But though I don’t know which of these two methods I should praise,
I know it ought to boil an hour for every pound it weighs.

Oh! if I were Queen of France, or, still better, Pope of Rome,
I’d have a Christmas pudding every day I dined at home;
And as for other puddings whatever they might be,
Why those who like the nasty things should eat them all for me.

For previous posts with rhyming recipes see:






Tuesday, December 16, 2014

A Trinity of Special Diet Puddings.


The ‘traditional’ (by which I mean the suet-dense and fruit-heavy boiled style) is not suitable for all appetites and digestions, but luckily there is no shortage of ideas for alternatives.

For children, The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW, Australia) of 27 November 1939 gave the following suggestion:

Nursery Christmas Pudding.
Take 1 oz ground rice, 6 oz. breadcrumbs, 3 oz. raisins, 4 oz. suet, 2 oz. sugar, 3 eggs, 2 tablespoonfuls plum jam, milk, butter, 1 teaspoonful baking powder.
Mix together all the dry ingredients except the raisins. Stir in the jam, add the beaten eggs, finely chopped suet, and a little milk. Butter a mould, seed the raisins, and stick them in even rows in the mould. Pour the pudding in very gently. Cover with greased paper. Steam for two hours. Turn out and serve with custard sauce.

The same article also gave the following, although it gives no hints as to the type of condition for which it was considered suitable.

Special Diet Christmas Pudding.
Take 8 oz. coconut meal, 16 prunes (soaked and minced), 1 lb. seeded muscats (minced), 4 oz. raisins (2 oz. whole and 2 oz. chopped), 2 beaten egg-yolks, 4 oz. chopped walnuts and almonds (mixed), a very little grated orange and lemon rind, 3 dessertspoonfuls whisky (or more as desired).
Mix all the ingredients together thoroughly. Add a little prune juice if the mixture seems too dry, but the mixture should be fairly stiff. This amount is sufficient for two medium-sized puddings. Steam in buttered basins for one hour. If liked, a teacupful of grated carrot can be added to this mixture. For a sweeter pudding, omit prunes.

The third recipe is from a feature on Invalid Christmas Recipes from The Queenslander (Brisbane, Australia) of  29 November 1928:

Jellied Prunes

Six  prunes, 6 almonds, juice of I lemon, des[s]ertspoonful sugar, ½ of a jelly square. Put prunes, after washing and soaking for 12 hours, into a pan with enough boiling syrup to cover them (made with the water la which the prunes were soaked, the lemon juice, and sugar melted together). Stew gently. When cooked leave till cold, then take out the stones and replace them with a blanched almond. Heat the prune juice and pour it hot over the jelly square. When dissolved, add the lemon juice, strain it over the prunes, and turn into a wet mould. Serve with cream.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Trinity Pudding, and a Trinity of Puddings.


It is definitely time to start ramping up the Christmas recipe offerings, so with no further ado, I give you three quite different puddings.

Firstly, from The Cook and Houswife’s Manual (8th edn. Edinburgh, 1847) by Christian Isobel Johnstone (aka the pseudonymous Mistress Margaret Dods)

The Trinity Christmas Pudding.
Three pounds raisins, half Muscatel and half Valentia, three pounds currants, three pounds beef suet chopped very fine, sixty eggs, a pint and a half of milk, three pounds best raw sugar, the rind of six lemons minced very small, four pounds of fine flour, a half-pound treacle, four nutmegs grated, and cinnamon and cloves pounded to taste; one large table-spoonful of salt, two wine-glasses of brandy, two of rum, one of Port; of sliced candied orange and lemon-peel a half-ounce each, citron-peel a half-ounce. The whole must be thoroughly well mixed early on the 24th December, and boiled for ten hours on Christmas Eve, and four hours on Christmas Day, or from leaving chapel till dinner-time, taking care the whole time to keep the boiler filled with boiling water, and the fire strong and constant. Farther, in preparing for the boiler, the cloth, first scalded, afterwards squeezed, is put on the dresser and well dredged with flour, and then placed very evenly over a colander, so that it shall be in the middle of it. The pudding is then put into the cloth, being well stirred up, a person plaiting the cloth so that it shall be evenly taken up that no water shall get into it. It must then be excessively well tied up, allowing some room for the pudding swelling, and boiled. The Christmas Pudding should be served up with a sprig of arbutus stuck in the middle, with one of its red berries, and a sprig of variegated holly with one or two berries on each side of it. This is to keep away the witches.

And for something completely different, I give you a suet pudding made with maize.

Farmers’Own Christmas Pudding.
Indian meal (northern, yellow best), 3 lbs.; beef suet (skinned and chopped fine) 1 lb.; dried currants, 1 lb.; saleratus, 1 teaspoonful. Mix these ingredients (dry); then add 1 ½ pints of molasses, and boiling water, stirring continually, until the whole is of the consistency of hot mush. Do this at night On the next day boil the pudding in a bag for 4 or 5 hours. Water must be boiling hard when pudding is put in.
Sauce for above: Take 1 pint of molasses, 1 table-spoonful of butter, table-spoonful of brown sugar, teaspoon heaping full of ground cinnamon. Boil for nearly an hour; then pour on the sauce a wine-glassful of brandy.
Working Farmer, Vol. 16 (1864)

And to make up the trinity, a British wartime pudding:-

Dates in Christmas Puddings.
We are using dates as far as possible in our puddings to replace raisins, and also in mince-meat, as the supply of raisins in the country appears to be getting low. We have a cheap recipe for a war Christmas pudding, in which we use dates. To make a 4lb. pudding the ingredients are: ½ lb suet or dripping, ½ lb flour, ½ lb breadcrumbs, ½ lb dates, 1 lb carrots, ½ lb currants, 4 oz mixed peel, grated rind of lemon, 4 oz sugare, one egg, and spice to taste. Figs are not much used to replace raisins as the seeds give away the substitution.
The Times, [London] Wednesday, Dec 08, 1915.


Friday, December 12, 2014

Christmas Menus from the Past.


I thought I might revisit the Christmas menus I have shared with you in the past to ensure that I don’t (in my inevitable haste) duplicate any of them in the next couple of weeks. It occurred to me that you also might enjoy revisiting them, so here are all the links on one page, for your Christmas reading pleasure:-
















Baked Beef for Christmas.



We had a Scottish Christmas recipe for cod’s head yesterday, and today it is the turn of the Welsh – or at least, the turn of the aristocratic author of one nineteenth century Welsh cookery book. The book is Good Cookery Illustrated: And Recipes Communicated by the Welsh Hermit of the Cell of St. Gover, with Various Remarks on Many Things Past and Present (1867,) and it is by Lady Augusa Waddington Hall Llanover, about whom I know absolutely nothing at all. Her tone is rather tongue-in-cheek, as you will see.

If you fancy a large piece of beef on your Christmas table – and have the right equipment, then this recipe may be for you:


THE HERMIT'S BAKED BEEF FOR CHRISTMAS.
Take half or whole rounds of beef, cut and prepared as described (see page 427 [see below]), roll them up, and skewer them into rounds, and put each of them into the outer part of a (round) "double" (see Plate 4),




which is made of iron, or galvanized iron; place on the top of the round of beef, a star of wood the proper size to go within the top of the vessel, then put a stiff paste of coarse brown flour (or flour mixed with bran) over the star to prevent any evaporation, and pour in as much water with a sprinkling of salt as will rise to about two inches, then put on the lid and bake in a brick oven; the time must, of course, depend upon the size and weight of the rounds. When done the paste at the top will look like gingerbread,* the gravy will be very strong and abundant, and the meat will be juicy and nicely browned. The gravy being poured off, and the fat taken from it when cold, it is re-warmed to dish up. The Hermit, when he required a number of these rounds dressed at once for a Christmas feast, used to bake them the day before, and the next day re-warmed them in the inner doubles in their own gravy, with hot water in the outer vessel, on a large stove. In this way they were all done punctually to the same time, equally well cooked, and an abundance of extra gravy without grease. Where a brick oven is not to be had for baking meat, the iron oven should always have all the fire taken out before the meat is put in. Meat should be baked very slowly, and be well covered in a vessel with a close-fitting lid. The ignorant practice of putting meat into open baking tins not only entirely ruins the flavour of the meat, from the bad taste imbibed from the vapour of the fat (frizzling in the iron oven), but it is very wasteful, dries up the meat, destroys the gravy, and taints the oven to such an extent that, if bread or cakes are baked in it afterwards before it has undergone a long and laborious purification, they would be flavoured by the same taste as pervades a house from the odour of fat frying upon hot iron.

* Very useful pounded to thicken soup tor the poor.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Cod’s Head for Christmastide.


It is well and truly time to start talking turkey. Or chicken. Or ham. Or pork. Or whatever.  But, perhaps you are tired of turkey, bored with chicken, hesitant about ham, or think that pork is passé?  Although you still want something formidable (but respectable-looking) for your Christmas table? Then I have just the idea for you today.

From The Cook and Houswife’s Manual (8th edn. Edinburgh, 1847) by Christian Isobel Johnstone (aka the pseudonymous Mistress Margaret Dods), I give you ……

To Dress a Cod's Head and Shoulders,*
Scotch Fashion.
This was a great affair in its day. It is still a formidable, nay, even a respectable-looking dish, with a kind of bulky magnificence, which, at Christmas-tide, appears imposing at the head of a long board. Have a quart of good stock ready for the sauce, made of beef or veal, seasoned with onion, carrot, and turnip. Rub the fish, (a deep-sea or rock-cod,) with salt over night, taking off the scales, but do not wash it. When to be dressed wash it clean, then quickly dash hot water over the upper side, and with a blunt knife remove the slime which will ooze out, taking great care not to break the skin. Do the same to the other side of the fish; then place it on the drainer, wipe it clean, and plunge it into a fish-kettle of boiling water, with a handful of salt and a half-pint of vinegar. It must be entirely covered, and will take from thirty to forty minutes' slow boiling. Set it to drain, slide it carefully on a deep dish, and glaze with beat eggs, over which strew fine bread-crumbs**, grated lemon-peel, pepper, and salt. Stick numerous bits of butter over the fish, and place it before a clear fire, strewing more crumbs, grated lemon-peel, and minced parsley over it, and basting with the butter. In the mean while thicken the stock with butter kneaded in flour, and strain it, adding to it half a hundred oysters nicely picked and bearded, and a glassful of their liquor, two glasses of Madeira or sherry, the juice of a lemon, the hard meat of two boiled lobster cut down, and the soft part pounded. Simmer this sauce for five minutes, and skim it well; wipe clean the edges of the dish in which the fish is crisping, and pour the half of the sauce around it, serving the rest in a tureen. Garnish with fried oysters, small fried flounders, pickled samphire, or slices of lemon. Cod's head is also dressed with a brown sauce, made of the stock, or with butter nicely browned, and a little mushroom-catsup. This sauce is generally made more piquant than the white, by the addition of two boned anchovies. — Obs. This Scotch mode of dressing cod is nearly the same as the French Cabillaud a la Sainte Menehould, only the code is then stuffed with a forcemeat either of meat or fish. Cod may be parboiled and finished in the oven with the above sauce. Oysters, Muscles, or Cockles, may supply the place of Lobster.
*Cod is in high perfection about Christmas. It comes into season about Michaelmas, when the other large fish are going out. The Dogger-bank cod are the most esteemed in the London market; but very excellent fish are now sent from Orkney, and many other parts. Cod of good quality are salted in the Hebrides, and a little has been done in Ireland; but the great supply of salted fish still comes from Newfoundland. The best cod are such as, with good size and shape, have yellow spots upon a pure skin. Many persons justly prefer both salt and fresh Ling to Cod ; Tusk is much superior to either of them, but is found in small quantities.
** Many cooks at this stage skin cod and haddocks.  All true gourmands detest flayed fish. Where not nicely crumbed and browned, they are absolutely horrific and spectral. -^P. T.

And for your breakfast (or dessert?), Mistress Dods supplies this Scottish golden oldie:-

A Scotch Christmas Bun, from Mrs. Fraser's Cookery.
Take half a peck of flour, keeping out a little to work it up with; make a hole in the middle of the flour, and break in sixteen ounces of butter; pour in a mutchkin (pint) of warm water, and three gills of yeast, and work it up into a smooth dough. If it is not wet enough, put in a little more warm water: then cut off onethird of the dough, and lay it aside for the cover. Take three pounds of stoned raisins, three pounds of cleaned currants, half a pound of blanched almonds cut longwise; candied orange and citron peel cut, of each eight ounces; half an ounce of cloves, an ounce of cinnamon, and two ounces of ginger, all beat and sifted. Mix the spices by themselves, then spread out the dough; lay the fruit upon it; strew the spices over the fruit, and mix all together. When it is well kneaded, roll out the cover. Cover it neatly, cut it round the sides, prickle it, and bind it with paper to keep it in shape ; set it in a pretty quick oven, and, just before you take it out, glaze the top with a beat egg.*

*These buns, weighing from four to eight, ten, twelve, and sixteen, or more pounds, are still sent from Edinburgh, from the depots of Littlejohn and Mackie, to all parts of the three kingdoms. Every country town, rural village, and neighbourhood in England, Scotland, and Ireland, has its favourite holiday-cake, or currant-loaf, under some such name as " Lady Bountiful's loaf," " Mrs. Notable's cake," "Miss Thrifty's bun," &c. &c. We do not pretend to give receipts for all these—the formula is endless—and they are all good.—The Irish receipt for Brude Breachd, page 546, is nearly the substance of all of them. That they be well raised and well fired is all besides that is of any importance. They should be baked in a dome-shaped fluted mould or Turk's cap, but look still more imposing at holiday-times, formed like large, respectable, old fashioned household loaves. Leavened dough should be bought for them. 

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Paprika yesterday, Goulash today.


I cannot leave yesterday’s subject of paprika without considering Hungarian goulash. My understanding of the history of this dish is severely hampered by my lack of knowledge of the Hungarian language, so I hope one or some of you can help out. Instead, I want to give you another perspective on this famous ‘traditional’ dish. For a British perspective on goulash, naturally the Oxford English Dictionary must be my starting point.

The OED defines goulash as “a stew or ragout of meat and vegetables highly seasoned … often called Hungarian ragout”, and informs that the name derives from the Hungarian words for herdsman (gulyás) and refers to the meat (hús) enjoyed by this hardy outdoor worker. The first reference in English is given as appearing in a letter written in 1866 by the Crown Princess of Prussia “   I have all their favourite dishes cooked..for them—goulash for the Hungarians, and polenta and macaroni for the Italians.”

An early English interpretation of the concept of goulash appears in From Twenty lessons in domestic science: a condensed home study course, glossary of usual culinary terms, pronunciations and definitions, marketing, food principles, functions of food, methods of cooking, etc. (1916) by Marian Cole Fisher (formerly of St.Paul Institute of Arts and Sciences, Chautauqua Lecturer.)

Hungarian Goulash (Gulyas)
(A choice dish of mutton)
2 pounds mutton (cheaper cuts)                       3 medium potatoes
2 medium onions                                 1 green pepper
½ cup drippings or margarine              1 cup rich milk or evaporated milk reduced slightly
Salt and paprika to season
Parsley to garnish

Preparation : Place the drippings in a deep stew kettle, aluminium preferred; slice the onions and green pepper into it and cook briskly for ten minutes. Then cut the meat into pieces about the size of an egg and cook until well seared over, about fifteen minutes. Add half a cup of hot water; cover and cook until tender over simmering burner or low fire, adding water in small quantities as necessary.
When meat is tender, place the potatoes, which have been diced, on top of the meat; cover again and steam until tender, but not too soft. Then add the milk, salt and a generous seasoning of the paprika.
Serve garnished with minced parsley.
The main point to remember is to keep barely enough water on the meat so when finally the milk is added there is no water remaining. That is the secret of the choice flavor.

Beef or veal may be used, taking the cheaper cuts. But the Hungarians use mutton in making this dish, for which they are famous.

Tuesday, December 09, 2014

A Potted History of Paprika.


Paprika is the signature ingredient in the traditional Hungarian dish of goulash, is it not? Let us therefore consider how that tradition came about, given that the Capsicum family originated in the New World, and was completely unknown in Europe before the Spanish conquest of the Americas in the early decades of the sixteenth century.  The Spanish seem to have enthusiastically adopted the pimentón, as they refer to paprika, within a short time of their discovery of the fruit on the cusp of the sixteenth century, but it was quite some time before it became a star ingredient in Hungarian cuisine.

The Oxford English Dictionary says that paprika “is said to have been brought to Hungary by the Turks in the 16th cent., and was at first known in Hungarian as Török-bors Turkish pepper. The name paprika first appeared in a book on Hungarian medicinal herbs published in 1775.”  So, it appears that the spice was not used in any significant culinary context in Hungary until the late eighteenth century. So much for the ‘traditional’ Hungarian recipe for paprika-enhanced goulash!

The word ‘paprika’ in the English language now most often refers to the dried and powdered fruit of Capsicum annuum.  Interestingly however, initially it more commonly referred to a dish (commonly soup) “flavoured or coloured with the sweet (usually red) pepper, either fresh or in dried and powdered form.”

Here is an interesting snippet from the London St James Gazette: An Evening Review And Record Of News of August 3, 1889 which gives some historical perspective on the use of paprika in Britain, and also provides our recipe for the day:-

STRANGE MEATS.
There are many strange meats, and more strange ways of cooking meats familiar, which well deserve to be known in Europe (says the Saturday Review). Europe itself, indeed, can supply local dishes as odd in flavour and as delicious – to those who like them – as any to be found in Asia or Africa. Above all stands the national dish of the Magyar, unless it be, as the Croats declare, the national dish of the Serb – paprika hühn. This is one of the very few among so many that have struck us in a roving live, of which we secured the recipe. Since the reader would look for it in vain among English or North-German cookery-books, we transcribe the directions:-
“Cut two onions fine. Put them in a saucepan with the same quantity of lard, and turn on the fire till they become yellow. Add a teaspoonful of paprika (red pepper) and three teaspoonfuls of flour. Cut two fowls into quarters. Put them into the saucepan, with the livers and the trail. Salt. Cover the whole with cream. Close the saucepan tight, and let it simmer till the fowls be done.”

Not more difficult than that! – but we undertake to say, upon the testimony of many friends, that those to whom the quaint and delicate flavour is agreeable will be enthusiastic in their gratitude. Any red pepper will do, but the Viennese or Pest manufacture is far best. Another impressive dish of Europe – so impressive and warmly appreciated generally at first that strangers grow to hate it in a short time – is the Russian manner of cooking starlet – very good indeed, however, as we can avouch, when applied to the British eel. They have a way of cooking beefsteaks in Roumania, with a singular arrangement of potatoes and raw cabbage sliced, which recurs to our memory with longing.

Monday, December 08, 2014

Cooking with Chufas.

On Friday last week I gave you a recipe for ‘milk’ made from chufas, and promised to tell you a little more about these interesting ‘nuts’ today. Firstly, it needs to be noted that although chufas go by many other names - earth almonds, earth nuts, rush nuts, pig nuts, zulu nuts, tiger nuts, for example – they are not nuts at all, but the tubers of a member of the sedge family.

Cyperus esculentus is native to large areas of the northern hemisphere, and has become naturalized, or established as a crop, in many other warm regions of the world. It is viewed variously as a wild food, a weed, as animal fodder, or as a human food depending on local knowledge and culture. 

The best known use for the chufa is probably the milky beverage much loved in Spain, called horchata de chufa, but in other parts of Europe it has been used to make a substitute for coffee.
The book which I used as a resource on Friday (Guide for Nut Cookery: together with a brief history of nuts and their food value; 1899) has this to say on the plant:

The leaves resemble coarse marsh grass. The plant produces small, oblong tubers in abundance, which are rich in fats and very sweet, tasting like the almond, but having a better flavor. An excellent milk may be made from them, which can be used for shortening.
The chufa should be cultivated by every farmer. It is a sweet, tuberous nut, rich in fats, and, to my knowledge, may be successfully raised as far north as Minnesota. It is quite certain that they will grow in Canada. It would be well to experiment.”

The book includes a number of other recipes for chufas, including one for the coffee substitute:

Chufa Coffee.
Take some good chufas, or earth almonds, wash them well, and bake in the oven or roast in a peanut roaster until quite brown, but not burned. Grind in a coffee-mill, but not very fine, then use the same as any coffee.

And to enjoy with your morning beverage, here are a couple of other ideas, from the same source:

Rolls No. 6.
To ½ cup of cream taken from chufa milk, add ½ cup of water, and a quantity of whole-wheat flour sufficient to make a stiff dough. Make the same as Rolls No. 4*
These are delicious, and also inexpensive, as chufas may be raised in nearly all sections of this country.
* Knead until the dough becomes quite elastic, and will make a snapping sound when a piece of dough is quickly pulled off. The more stiffly the dough is kneaded and worked, the better the quality of the rolls will be.

Chufa Cream Pie Crust.
Let the chufa milk set for several hours, or overnight, after which skim off the cream.

Take ½ cup of the thin cream, 1 cup flour, a pinch of salt, and enough cold water to make a stiff dough. Work as little as possible. This makes a sweet, crisp, delicious crust. 

Friday, December 05, 2014

Nutty Milks.

I started off today’s post by intending to answer queries from several readers about the Butternut Coffee with Peanut Cream on the menu of the vegetarianThanksgiving dinner which featured here last week. As so often happens, one apparently simple road tempts one down many interesting little side-roads, and I ended up in a more distant spot, having learned some interesting things along the way. 

First things first, as they say. The butternut coffee on this menu would indeed have been made from the seeds of the butternut pumpkin (squash.) Vegetarians of the time were commonly also vehemently against stimulants and condiments of all kinds , so the coffee on this menu should not be confused with the popular canned coffee known by the brand-name of Butter-Nut which was originally made by the Paxton & Gallagher Company in Omaha in the early twentieth century.

The Peanut Cream which topped the coffee on the vegetarian Thanksgiving menu also seasoned the soups, so it was clearly an adaptable item for those who eschewed animal flesh in 1899.  Luckily for us, the go-to book for vegetarian nut-cookery of the time - Guide for Nut Cookery: together with a brief history of nuts and their food values, by Mrs. Almeida Lambert, (published in 1899, the same year as the Thanksgiving menu, in Battle Creek, Michigan) – contained recipes for both the ‘coffee’ and the ‘cream’:

Butternut Coffee.
Put butternut kernels on a pie-tin, and bake in the oven until they are nicely browned, but not scorched. When cold, mash them to a meal with a cup or glass bottle on the tin, and use 1 tablespoonful for 2 cups of coffee. It is rich, and has the best flavor of all coffee substitutes.

Peanut Cream.
For making cream, the peanuts should not be roasted so much as for making butter. They should have a light straw color. Then grind them very fine, and to a tablespoonful of nut butter add 1 ½ cups of water, adding a little at a time, and beating until it is smooth.

This recipe brought me to one of those tempting information byways. Finding peanut cream in this book opened up my eyes to a wonderful range of nut milks that I immediately wanted to share with you. I have touched upon ‘alternative milks’ before, but only briefly. Artificial Asses’ Milk and Almond Milk, have appeared in previous posts, and you might like to look at them again. Don’t be misled, however, by the version of Asses’ Milk which appeared alongside Elephant Milkin yet another post – they are completely unsuitable for the young of any species, and for adults of a temperance persuasion.

For those of you who love nut milks, and are keen to make your own, I give you, from the book of the day:-

Peanut Milk.
Make like the peanut cream, only add more water. The amount of nut butter to be used depends upon the richness of the milk desired.

Almond Milk.
Dissolve 1 tablespoonful of almond butter [equates to almond meal, in this book] in 1 pint of warm water, adding a little at a time.

Hickory Milk.
Crack the hickory-nuts and pick out the kernels; grind them through the mill, being careful not to grind them too fine or they will be oily. Then to each heaping cupful of the nut meal add 1½ cups of lukewarm water and beat thoroughly, rubbing the mixture against the side of the dish with the back of the spoon. Then line a large bowl with two thicknesses of clean, strong cheese-cloth, pour in the nuts, and squeeze out the milk. After the milk is taken out, the remainder can be made into sausages or gravy.

Pine-Nut Milk.
Grind the pine-nuts through the mill, and then add about 1½ cups of water to 1cup of the butter or meal; beat well and press all the milk through a cloth. The remainder that is, the part that is left in the cloth - can be used in making sausages, soups, or in roasts. The milk can be used in vegetables or in making gravies, while the cream that rises on top is excellent for making crisps, rolls, cakes, and pie crust.

Chufas Milk.
Select good, fresh chufas, wash them well in several waters, and grind quite fine; then pour over them hot water enough to wet well, but not to make them too watery; rub well, pressing them against the dish, with the spoon, and pour into a jelly-bag made of two thicknesses of cheese-cloth. Then press with the hands to squeeze out the milk.

Cocoanut Milk.
Select a cocoanut that has milk in it, cut a hole in the eye of the nut, and let out the milk. Then break the nut with a hammer, remove the meat, and with a sharp knife peel off the hard, brown, woody coat, being careful to take as thin a peeling as possible, as the most of the oil is next to the skin. Then grate through a cocoanut-shredder, or on any grater, or grind through the mill, then for each cocoanut, add 2 cups of boiling water, and with a tablespoon beat and work for ten or fifteen minutes. Place a clean new cheese-cloth over a large bowl, and pour the cocoanut into it. Work well with the hands, and squeeze out all the milk possible, then empty the cloth into a stew-pan, pour boiling water over it the same as before, work well again, and squeeze through the cloth the second time. You will then have all the milk that can be taken out, but the cocoanut can be cooked in water for twenty or thirty minutes and then strained, and the water used for making pie, the same as in cocoanut-pie recipe.


I feel confident that ‘chufas’ will raise some questions. Be patient, folks, for more on chufas on Monday.