Of Artichokes: recipes from 1653.

The preparation of globe artichokes is an intimidating idea to many otherwise enthusiastic and skilled cooks, who then resort to buying them in cans and jars instead. Eaters too, are a bit puzzled by this interesting member of the thistle family, as the following quotations suggest:

Eating an artichoke is like getting to know someone really well.  Willi Hastings

Life is like eating artichokes, you have got to go through so much to get so little.  Thomas A Dorgan.

After all the trouble you go to, you get about as much actual 'food' out of eating an artichoke as you would from licking 30 or 40 postage stamps. Miss Piggy

In the past, artichokes were particularly valued for their supposed medicinal qualities, and could have been said to be the “little blue pill” of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, if the following writers of the time were correct:

… it has the virtue of . . . provoking Venus for both men and women; for women making them more desirable, and helping the men who are in these matters rather tardy.

Bartolomeo Boldo, Book of Nature (1576)

… they do mightily stir up lust by increasing seed, and therefore are good for married persons who are weak in the act of generation.

Robert Turner: The British Physician, 1687.

I see a sudden surge in artichoke sales if that bit of old knowledge goes viral.

There were several recipes for the artichoke in yesterday’s source, A Book of Fruits and Flowers, published in London in 1653. Here they are:

Of Hartichoakes.

How to make a Hartichoake Pye.

Boyle your Hartichoakes, take off all the leaves, pull out all the strings, leaving only the bottoms, then season them with Cinamon and Sugar, laying between every Hartichoake_ a good piece of Butter; and when you put your Pye into the Oven, stick the Hartichoakes_

with slices of Dates, and put a quarter of a pint of White-wine into the Pye, and when you take it out of the Oven, doe the like againe, with some butter, and sugar, and Rose-water, melting the butter upon some coales, before you put it into the Pye.

To keep Hartichoakes for all the yeare.

The fittest time is about _Michaelmas_, and then according to the proportion of Hartichoakes you will keep, seeth a quantity of water in a pot or pan, seasoning it so with white salt that it may have a reasonable tast, then put a fit quantity of white salt into the water, and boyle them together, and scum them well; then put a good quantity of good Vineger to them, to make the liquor somewhat sharp, and boyle it again, then parboyle your Hartichoakes that you mind to keep, in another liquor, take them out of it, and

let them coole, then set your first liquor againe on the fire to boyle, and scumming it throughly, let it coole againe; when it is throughly cold, put it up in some firkin, or large earthen pot, and put in your Hartichoakes to them handsomely, for bruising them; then cover them close from the aire, and so keep them to spend at your pleasure.

To Preserve Hartichoakes.

Heat water scalding hot first, then put in your Hartichoakes and scald them, and take away all the bottomes, and leaves about them, then take Rose water and Sugar and boyle them alone a little while, then put the Hartichoakes therein, and let them boyle on a soft fire till they be tender enough, let them be covered all the time they boyle, then take them out and put them up for your use.

To make a maid [made] dish of Hartechoakes.

Take your Hartichoakes and pare away all the top, even to the Meat, and boyle them in sweet Broth till they be somewhat tender, then take them out, and put them in a dish, and seeth them with Pepper, Cinamon, and Ginger, then put them in the dish you mean to bake them in and put in marrow to them good store, and so let them bake, and when they be baked, put in a little Vineger and Butter, and stick three or four leaves of the Hartichoakes in the dish when you serve them up, and scrape Sugar upon the dish.

Poisonous Sugar? (1680).

It seems that sugar is blamed for every human ailment these days, and indeed some call it ‘the Sweet Poison.’ There certainly seems to be increasing scientific evidence for some of its harmful effects, although the issue seems to be the sheer quantity that is consumed rather than an intrinsic harm.

One form of sugar was suspected of being poisonous over three hundred years ago too, although the evidence is anecdotal, and the context very specific. The story appears in the resource which gave us Friday’s story on Tonquin Eggs - A Collection of Several Relations & Treatises Singular and Curious (1680) by Jean-Baptiste Tavernier. In the chapter on The Commodities of the Dominions of the Great Mogul, the author has this to say:

Powder’d sugar is brought in great quantities out of the Kingdom of Bengala; is causes also a very great Trade at Ougeli, Patna, Daca, and other places. I have been told it for a very great certainty, be several ancient people in Bengala, that Sugar being kept thirty years becomes absolute poison, and there is no Venom more dangerous, or that sooner works its effect. Loaf sugar is also made at Amadabat, where they are perfectly skill’d in refining it; for which reason it is calle’d Sugar Royal. These Sugar Loaves usually weigh from eight to ten pound.

I have never come across this belief before, and hope to have time in the future to investigate it. It is a pity that the writer does not give any explanation for the belief, so perhaps none was communicated to him. I am pretty sure sugar cannot become harmful no matter how long it is kept – nor can I think of any reason that sugar would be kept so long in any case. Perhaps some sugar manufacturer or supplier perpetrated the idea in order to protect his stores from theft? If anyone has any ideas, I would love to hear them.

For the early seventeenth century British/European perspective on sugar, here are the words of the famous horticulturalist John Gerard from his book The Herball Or Generall Historie of Plantes published in 1636:

Of Sugar Cane.

The Description.

Sugar Cane is a pleasant and profitable Reed, hauing long stalkes seuen or eight foot high, ioynted or kneed like vnto the great Cane; the leaues come forth of euerie joynt on euery side of the stalke one, like vnto wings, long, narrow, and sharpe pointed. The Cane it selfe, or stalke is not hollow as other Canes or Reeds are, but full, and stuffed with a spongeous substance in taste exceeding sweet. The root is great and long, creeping along within the vpper crust of the earth, which is likewise sweet and pleasant, but lesse hard or woody than other Canes or Reeds; from the which there doth shoot forth many yong siens, which are cut away from the maine or mother plant, because they should not draw away the nourishment from the old stocke, and so get vnto themselues a little moisture, or else some substance not much worth, and cause the stocke to be barren, and themselues little the better; which shoots do serue for plants to set abroad for encrease.

Arundo Saccharina. Sugar Cane.

The place.

The Sugar Cane groweth in many parts of Eu∣rope at this day, as in Spaine, Portugal, Olbia, and in Prouence. It groweth also in Barbarie, generally almost euery where in the Canarie Islands, and in those of Madera, in the East and West Indies, and many other places. My selfe did plant some shoots thereof in my garden, and some in Flanders did the like: but the coldnesse of our clymate made an end of mine, and I thinke the Flemings will haue the like profit of their labour.

The time.

This Cane is planted at any time of the yeare in those hot countries where it doth naturally grow, by reason they 〈◊〉 no frosts to hurt the yong shoots at their first planting.

The Names.

The Latines haue called this plant Arundo Saccharina, with this additament, Indica, because it was first knowne or brought from India. Of some it is called Calamus Saccharatus: in English Sugar Cane: in Dutch Suyickerriedt.

The Nature and vertues.

The Sugar or juice of this Reed is of a temperate qualitie; it drieth and cleanseth the stomacke, maketh smooth the roughnesse of the brest and lungs, cleareth the voice, and putteth away hoarsenesse, the cough, and all sournesse and bitternesse, as Isaac saith in Dictis.

The vse.

Of the iuyce of this Reed is made the most pleasant and profitable sweet, called Sugar, whereof is made infinite confections, confectures, syrups, and such like, as also preseruing and conseruing of sundry fruits, herbes, and flowers, as Roses, Violets, Rosemary flowers, and such like, which still retaine with them the name of Sugar, as Sugar Roset, Sugar violet, &c. The which to write of would require a peculiar volume, and not pertinent vnto this historie, for that it is not my purpose to make of my booke a Confectionarie, a Sugar Bakers furnace, a Gentlewomans preseruing pan, nor yet an Apothecaries shop or Dispensatorie; but onely to touch the chiefest matter that I purposed to handle in the beginning, that is, the nature, properties, and descriptions of plants. Notwithstanding I thinke it not amisse to shew vnto you the ordering of these reeds

when they be new gathered, as I receiued it from the mouth of an Indian my seruant: he saith, They cut them in small pieces, and put them into a trough made of one whole tree, wherein they put a great stone in manner of a mill-stone, whereunto they tie a horse, buffle, or some other beast which draweth it round: in which trough they put those pieces of Canes, and so crush and grind them as we do the barkes of trees for Tanners, or apples for Cyder. But in some places they vse a great wheele, wherein slaues do tread and walke as dogs do in turning the spit: and some others do feed as it were the bottome of the said wheele, wherein are some sharpe or hard things which do cut and crush the Canes into powder. And some likewise haue found the inuention to turne the wheele with water workes, as we do our iron mills. The Canes being thus brought into dust or powder, they put them into great cauldrons with a little water, where they boyle vntill there be no more sweetnesse left in the crushed reeds. Then doe they straine them through mats and such like things, and put the liquor to boyle againe vnto the consistence of honey, which being cold is like vnto sand both in shew and handling, but somewhat softer; and so afterward it is car∣ried into all parts of Europe, where it is by the Sugar Bakers artificially purged and purged to that whitenesse as we see.

As the recipe for the day, I give you a lovely seventeenth century recipe which required a lot of sugar: it is from A Book of Fruits and Flowers, published in London in 1653

To Preserve all kinde of Flowers in the Spanish Candy in Wedges.

Take Violets, Cowslips, or any other kinde of Flowers, pick them, and temper them with the pap of two roasted Apples, and a drop or two of Verjuice, and a graine of Muske, then take halfe a pound of fine hard Sugar, boyle it to the height of Manus Christi*, then mix them together, and pour it on a wet Pye plate, then cut it it in Wedges before it be through cold, gild it, and so you may box it, and keep it all the year. It is a fine sort of Banquetting stuffe, and newly used, your Manus Christi must boyle a good while and be kept with good stirring.

*Manus Christi: (lit. ‘Hand of Christ’) - a sugar syrup or cordial used for medicinal purposes, particularly as a tonic or restorative.

Tonquin Eggs (1680)

I have a brief story for you today - brief because I am pre-occupied  with setting up a new computer, which for me,is not a quick job.  I am, however,determined to learn to love Windows 8. Wish me luck, please. 

My story continues the theme of preserved eggs, but this time comes from the mysterious location of  seventeenth century Tonquin - or North Vietnam as we know it today.  The intrepid traveller who brings us this tale is Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, and it is included in his account of his travels - A Collection of Several Relations & Treatises Singular and Curious (1680):-

"I have told you that Hens and Ducks are infinitely numerous in Tunquin; I will now tell you how they preserve the Eggs of these Creatures,which they will keep for two or three years together without being fpoil 'd. They Salt them, and to make them take salt, they fill a Vessel full of Water, and throw a good quantity of Salt into it. If the Egg sink to the bottom, the Pickle is not good; then they throw in more Salt, till they find that the Eggs swim. The Pickle being thus made, they take Ashes, and make them up into a Paft with this Pickle: and in this Part they enclose every Egg by itself, and then wrap it up in a leaf of an Herb, not unlike one of our Pear-tree leaves, but much larger, and then put the Eggs into Earthen Pots close cover'd: after which manner they keep their Eggs for two or three years together.

In other parts of the Indies where there is great ftore of Oyl, as in the Dominions of the Great Mogul, the Kingdoms of Pegu and Arochan, they put their Eggs into great Earthen Pots well varnish'd, and then fill the Vessel with an Oyl which is made of a small Seed like Rape-seed. For as for Sallad Oyl, after you are once pass'd Aleppo, you see no more Olive-trees over Asia, but only in one place of Persia near Casmin where between the Mountains lies a little Valley , about a League long and half a League broad, full of Olivetrees, but they make but very little Oyl, preferring the Olives only to eat. But to return to the Eggs; they are the chief Provision which they eat a Ship-board. But the Eggs which are preserv'd in Salt are preferred much before those that are kept in Oyl, because that in using the first, there is no need of carrying Salt to Sea, or of boiling Salt with their Rice, When they eat them, they boil them till they are hard, and with every mouthful of Rice they eat a Pea's Bigness of Egg , which is as good and better then Salt with their Rice. As to what remains, there are neither Mines of Gold nor Silver in the Kingdom of Tunquin, neither do they Coin any Money."

Variations on a Theme of Pickled Eggs.

Once upon a time there were many methods available for the preservation of eggs, but thanks to refrigeration, we can now dispense with that particular household chore. There is one method however which is still quite popular because it adds value over and above simple preservation, and that is pickling. As a race, we seem to love the tangy sour taste of pickled anything, and pickled eggs have been a standby at bars for a very long time – the eggs both staying the dinner pangs and stimulating thirst and so keep patrons drinking.

The method of pickling eggs has not essentially changed over the centuries of course, but it is surprising how many variations can be made on the basic theme.

Some time ago I gave you a recipe for pickled eggs from one of my favourite old cookery texts - Domestic Economy, for rich and poor, by a lady (1827). I repeat it here to start the discussion:

To pickle Eggs, an excellent Sea Store.*

Boil the eggs hard, and put them into cold water, to preserve their colour; when they are cold, take off the shells without injuring the egg: a jar should be chosen that will pack the eggs, that there may be no waste of room, which also makes a waste of vinegar; they may likewise be pickled in the shell.

Season and boil good vinegar with pepper or mace, and salt and strain it over the eggs; let it cool, and then have a fitted bung, which must be pressed tightly in with a cloth. Look at them in a week, and if they require the vinegar to be boiled, do it for sea store or keeping, but for immediate use it is not necessarv. The same vinegar will answer again and again. A cook will find a store of pickled eggs very useful, both in first and second-course dishes, as well as ornamental.

*For a sea store they may be boiled hard in strong vinegar, salt, and spices, in the shell, and so packed: they will keep any length of time.

And a recipe from a hundred years earlier, this one flavoured with sage, which sounds really good to me:

To Pickle Eggs.

Boil New laid Eggs in Vinegar, Cloves, Pepper, and a Handful of Sage-leaves, till hard, then peel them and put them into Glasses; when your Pickle is cold, put it to them, and cover them down close.

Court Cookery: or, The Compleat English Cook (1725) by Robert Smith (Cook)

Or if you want your eggs a nice pink colour:

Pickled Eggs.

Boil them until hard; throw them hot into cold water, which will make the shell slip off smoothly after the eggs have remained in it about ten minutes; boil some red beets till very soft; peel and mash them fine, and put enough of the liquor into cold vinegar to color it pink; add a little salt, pepper, nutmeg, and cloves; put the eggs into a jar and pour the beets, vinegar &c., over them. This makes a pretty garnish for fish or corned meats. Cut the eggs in slices when used.

The Practical American Cook Book, Or, Practical and Scientific Cookery (1855)

Perhaps you would prefer a medley of different eggs?

A Delicious Pickle of Eggs.

Take two dozen of hens' eggs, an equal number of turkeys' eggs, and the same number of guinea fowls'. Boil them twenty minutes. When cold, take off the shells. Add to them six or eight dozen, of plovers' or pigeons' eggs, also boiled hard and shelled. Have ready an ounce each of cloves and mace, four or five nutmegs sliced, an ounce of whole pepper, two ounces of ginger, half-a-dozen cloves of garlic, four ounces of salt, and four or five bay-leaves. Put the eggs into a stone jar, with this seasoning between them. Then pour over them sufficient boiling vinegar to cover them. When cold, close the jar in the usual way. Let them stand two days; then pour off the pickle, boil it, and return it to the eggs. Repeat this twice, thus giving the vinegar three boilings after the first; each boiling at an interval of two days. Close the jar in the usual manner.

This pickle may be made with Hens' Eggs alone, or any other kind of eggs; but a variety of eggs is preferable. Pickled eggs, formerly, were much esteemed.

The family save-all, a system of secondary cookery (1861) by Robert Kemp Philip.

In the following recipe, the hard-boiled eggs are halved before being put in a spiced pickle.

Pickled Eggs.

Boil the eggs until very hard; when cold, shell them, and cut them in halves lengthways. Lay them carefully in large-mouthed jars, and pour over them scalding vinegar, well seasoned with whole pepper, allspice, a few pieces of ginger, and a few cloves of garlic. When cold, tie up closely, and let them stand a month. They are then fit for use. With cold meat, they are a most delicious and delicate pickle.

The American Practical Cookery-book (1860) by G.G.Evans.

And finally, other than munching on a pickled egg as a snack, they can also be used as a garnish:

Veal Cake, To Be Eaten Cold.

Pound, in a mortar, as much cold roasted lean veal as, will fill a small mould, together with a slice of ham, or bacon, a piece of the crumb of bread soaked in cold milk, two beaten eggs, a small bit of butter, the same of shalot, or onion; season with pepper and salt, and mix all well together; butter the mould, fill it, and bake it in an oven for about an hour; turn it out when cold, and cut it into slices. Garnish with pickled eggs and parsley.

The Practice of Cookery, by Mrs. Dalgairns (1842)

Food for the Million: Cheese (1905)

As a final (for the time being) entry into my Food for the Million series, may I offer you a short but intriguing item from the Examiner (Launceston, Tasmania) of 25 July 1905?

A record consignment of cheese was recently despatched from Liverpool to London. It consisted of 5000 cheeses, weighing 200 tons, and was consigned to one person, a London merchant. The whole of the cheese was Canadian. Its value was about ₤9000. Some 32 railway trucks were required for the carriage of the cheese.

This is indeed a different spin on the topic. I thought that cheese was always and ever a staple food for the masses?

It appears that Canadian cheese had been an important export to Britain for some decades, as is shown in the Annual Report of the Commissioner of Agriculture and Public Works for the Province of Ontario in 1871 – although the its quality at the time was controversial (perhaps the reason it was considered suitable for the million/)

Canadian Cheese in the London and Liverpool markets do not, except in rare instances, command the highest quotations. In the business circulars of London Houses it is classed as middling quality, and is quoted from 2s. to 3s. per cwt. below U. S. Factory Cheese. A Liverpool House, when asked the question, “Why does Canadian Cheese not bring Cable quotations ?” replied: “ It is only U.S. fancy dairies which are sold at these extreme prices.” And a Glasgow circular of 21st Dec., 1870, quotes Canadian Factory Cheese at 60s. per cwt. (112 lbs.,) a figure fully 10s. below the cable quotations of that date. Now, it will not do to say that this state of things is the result of conspiracy to depreciate the Canadian article, neither will it do to say that inferior U.S. cheese is branded Canadian, and our finest is sold as U.S. for, comparatively speaking, a very small proportion of the Canadian products is now handled by New York merchants. We believe that the truth of the matter is this, the disparity between the market price of Canadian and U. S. Cheese is due to our article not being, generally speaking, quite the thing as regards quality. The kind of cheese which commands the highest price in the English market is close in texture, i.e. not porous, will slice in thin pieces without falling into crumbs, is mild in flavour, and in colour - is either pure white or a pale red, the pure white suiting the Lancashire market, and the high coloured the London. Again and again have we heard from the best authorities that straw-coloured cheese (the ruling shade in our product) is the most unsaleable that can be shipped. To produce this class of article is as much in our power as it is in our New York neighbours………..

As the recipe for the day, I give you a genuine prize-winning Canadian recipe for cheese from The Canadian Agriculturist, and Journal of the Board of Agriculture of Upper Canada (1863.)

CHEESE MAKING.

The following is the statement of Mr. Hugh McMillan, of Erin Township, of the mode of manufacturing the cheese exhibited by him at the Provincial Exhibition of 1862, to which was awarded the second prize:

Size of farm 200 acres. Mixed husbandry. Number of cows, 10, Breed, Durham grades. Pasture, clover and timothy mixed Was made about the 20th June Night's milk is strained into pans, and left till morning, then the cream is skimmed off, and part of the milk put in a tin pail, putting the pail in a pot or kettle of boiling water, until it is sufficiently warm to raise the temperature of night and morning's milk to nearly that of new milk. If the cream is heated it has a tendency to be greasy on the top, if the milk is heated in a pot or kettle it is apt to give it an unpleasant flavour. Rennet is prepared by steeping one or more in water until the strength is obtained, and then straining off the liquor, use a sufficient quantity to digest in about an hour, then carefully break or mix the curd; then putting the strainer over it, it is allowed time to settle, then the whey is dipped as it rises, (we neither scald nor use colouring matter). When the whey is off cut the curd in slices which are piled in one side of the tub to drain. When it is drained it is broken with the knife, and half an ounce of common salt used to every pound of curd. It is then put in the hoop allowing it a short time to drain before putting it to press. It is pressed lightly for the first three hours, after which the pressure is increased to 16 or 20 cwt. It is changed two or three times a day till thoroughly pressed, after which it is taken to the cheese room, where it is bandaged and turned once a day

Food for the Million: Truffles (1907)

Truffles for the Million? What an amazing fantasy. It was a dream of one early twentieth century scientist, as I am about to show you. History has proven however, that this particular dream did not come true.

The story comes from The Manning River Times and Advocate for the Northern Coast Districts of New South Wales (Taree, NSW) of 1 June 1907

ARTIFICIAL FOOD: TRUFFLES FOR THE MILLION.

Science has achieved another triumph, which will affect the food supply of the world to a considerable degree and cause immense happiness among a great body of gourmets and lovers of good living. M. Emile Boulanger, of the Institute of France, has succeeded in cultivating the famous truffles of Perigord by a process which is almost equivalent to artificial germination.

Hitherto truffles have only been found wild, and It has been impossible to cultivate them by transplanting or by any other of many methods which have been tried. The truffles of Perigord which are the only ones that are greatly in demand, will not grow anywhere but in this district of France. It is well recognised that there would be a handsome fortune for many farmers if they grow them, but that has hitherto been impossible.

Truffles are a very valuable article of food, containing a high proportion of nutritive bodies. Many thousands of people consider them the most delicious of all flavouring for sauces and many dishes. The cost, however, places them beyond general use.

A simple and entertaining but very lengthy process of obtaining the natural truffle is at present employed. The pig has an unerring sent [sic] for truffles. The farmer puts a ring in the nose of a lively and intelligent pig and takes him out walking. Presently the pig arrives at a spot where a truffle is buried, often two or threefeet in the earth. He tries to dig for it, but the ring prevents him. The farmer quickly throws up the earth with, his spade, pockets the truffle, and continues the search. Occasionally he gives a slice of the worthless outside of the truffle to the pig in order to quiet his discontent.

ISOLATING THE GERM OF INCREASE.

But to resume the amount [sic] of the new triumph. M. Boulanger, by microscopical examination, discovered the germinating property or seed of the truffle which had never been isolated before. This property lies in the spores of the transparent asci, or bladder, of the root. He planted these on various nourishing substances, such as bread, potatoes, and carrots, und finally he found that they grew upon beetroots, which contain an enormous proportion of sugar, a substance necessary to the growth of the truffle. He placed these beetroots in bottles,  sterilised and constructed in such manner that they would admit the free passage of fresh air but prevent the entry of disease germs. Upon the beetroot developed the spawn, or mycelium of Perigord truffles, and after that small truffles. The spawn, when planted developed into excellent truffles, and there is every reason to believe that it can be planted in other parts of the world whore the climate and soil are suitable.

"I have now 3,000 bottles of truffle spawn in my laboratory." M. Boulanger informs us. “As to the extent of my experimental farm, which I shall be glad to show you any day you like to go there with me,  it covers many acres of chalky soil, planted with small oak trees. It is beneath these that the spawn after it has been manipulated in a manner which I will explain to you on a later occasion, is planted: and whenever I have a favourable result a number is attached to the nearest tree."

Finally, M. Boulanger expressed his opinion that the economical cultivation of truffles would in time become as easy as the growing of mushrooms.

I wonder if, in time, truffles will indeed become an easy affordable crop. What do you think? And would they then still hold the same allure for gourmets around the globe?

The recipe for the day is for a Truffle Sauce, which I am sure you will make frequently if and when the marvelous mushroom is cheap and available.

Truffle Sauce for Turkies, &c.

Put green truffles into water, clean them well with a hard brush, and cutting the outside parings thinly off, trim them into shapes; put the trimmings into a mortar, pound and add them to the forcemeat which is to be put into the cavity near the breast of the turkey. Then set the truffles in a stewpan with a pint of beef broth, stew them gently, and when the liquor is almost reduced add some well seasoned cullis.

The Art of Cookery, (1836) by John Mollard.

Food for the Million: Rabbit (1905)

I was tempted to call this story “When life gives you Rabbits, make Rabbit Curry,” but in the end I wanted to keep to the name of the theme which I seem to have developed over the last few days.

As most of you are probably aware, we have a rabbit problem here in Australia. The furry little critters cause millions and millions of dollars-worth of damage to farmland and the environment, and are apparently ineradicable. They get around fences, and have managed to resist being extinguished via the attempt at biological control with the myxoma virus in the 1950’s. Rabbits were brought to the continent along with the convicts, by the First Fleet in 1788. As was inevitable, by the second decade of the eighteenth century, it was already obvious – in Tasmania at any rate – that they were becoming a pest.

Rabbits are, at least, good eating, which cannot be said for cane toads (Rhinella marina) – an ugly, poisonous beast introduced from Hawaii in 1935 in an attempt to control the cane beetle which was doing too much harm to the lucrative sugar cane crop.

Anyway, one Australian had what he thought was a good idea in relation to the feral rabbit problem – use them to solve the other problem of the hungry Million.

From the Observer (Adelaide, South Australia) of 17 June 1905:

FOOD FOR THE MILLION.

DEALING WITH RABBITS.

At a recent meeting of the Davenport Agricultural Bureau Mr. A. McDonald read a paper to the following effect:—Much has been said and written about the rabbit problem, and that it is a serious one nobody can deny, but the first problem to be solved is —"Is the rabbit a curse or a blessing?" It has occurred to me that we Australians began at the wrong end by hastily writing him down as a liability, instead of first using every means in our power to place him on the other side of the ledger as an asset. When it is proved beyond a doubt that he can only be regarded as an incubus we must get rid of him at all costs; - but if, on the other hand, it can be demonstrated that he is a valuable asset, - then his wanton destruction should at once cease.

I do not intend going into a lengthy description of the rabbit - the average Australian knows him on sight; His occupation of this country without contributing to his support signifies a great deal to the landholder, and to the State generally, and and as all efforts to permanently exterminate him have proved futile, there seems to be little doubt but that he has come to stay. It therefore behoves us to think seriously if we are not flying in the face of Providence by treating as vermin good wholesome food, which would be appreciated by the starving people of other continents. To turn the rabbit into food for the million – cheap, wholesome, and palatable food - food which will keep for any reasonable time, and be manufactured without the aid of expensive and intricate machinery, is the key to the problem of making him a "valuable national asset." How

to do it. First catch your rabbit alive - any trapper knows this part of the business, which needs no explanation. When caught, treat him gently; do not knock him about, or you will bruise the flesh. Kill him by a smart rap behind the ears with a short bludgeon. I have seen some people kill by beating the head on the ground, which is a slovenly way, besides being unnecessarily cruel. The killing, as well as every other part of the process, should be done neatly. Skin, dress, and open out perfectly flat by cutting through the ribs, then wash and cleanse thoroughly with clean water (salt water will do). Whilst quite fresh put into brine made strong enough to float an egg, and leave it there 10 hours; then remove, drain and dry, after which transfer to the smokehouse. Perhaps a few hints about the construction of a smokehouse for smoking the rabbit may be useful. Make an excavation in the ground, 3 or 4 ft. deep, from two sides of which excavate trenches to same depth, with a width of 18 in. and length of 4 ft.; cover your trenches with sheets of iron. Over the hole place a box 3 ft. high, having both top and bottom knocked out, with ordinary fencing wires fixed at each end, and running through it. Use the spare boards to make a secure cover. Hang the meat on the wires, put the lid on top of the box, light the fire at one end of each trench, and the smoke does the rest. The finished product you can inspect for yourselves and judge if it is, or is not, a wholessome and palatable article of food. Anyhow, there can be no two opinions as to its cheapness and the ease with which it is treated. It will also be evident to any body that the saving in carriage alone will be considerable, the weight of the smoked specimen being only 1¼ lb., against 2 lb. 2oz. of an average one in the green state. Further, trappers may utilize every carcase fresh, thus avoiding the loss of a very large percentage of their catch, which, under present conditions, are rejected as unfit for use when they reach the nearest market. But the principal advantage is that the industry can be manipulated and carried on by any

and every body in the far away back country where the rabbit abounds and no quick means of transit exists. Providing a market is found for the smoked article, the trapper may be sure of his produce reaching market in good condition, even though it takes months to get there. The number of rabbits sent to the Government Cool Stores, Victoria, for the month of January, 1905,

totalled over three-quarters of a million, of which 26 per cent were rejected as unfit for export. If such a number can be collected in a single month in a State such as Victoria, which has not large tracts of unoccupied country such as we have, then it does not require any very great stretch of imagination to suppose that a depot at Port Augusta could gather at least half a million smoked rabbits monthly, which, if worth only 2d. each carcase, would represent over £4,000 cash. I could suggest that squatters, farmers, and others co-operate with the branch of the Bureau, and forward a trial shipment to some good commercial firm in Great Britain, and thus test the practicability or otherwise of obtaining a market. The outlay in the event of failure would be small, and the possibilities of success great. Mr. McDonald tabled two rabbits treated in the way described, also a cooked sample, which was taster by members, and very highly praised.

In reply to questions, Mr. McDonald stated that all the plant required by two men to undertake this business would be the ordinary trapping appliances, a supply of salt (it must be good), a tub, and the box for smokehouse. The fire did not in any way touch the carcase, the smoke was practically cold, and he was satisfied the samples shown were thoroughly cured. He used deal sawdust for creating the smoke, but small chips would answer the purpose equally well. For transport the cured rabbits could be packed in the same way as salt fish. The methods of cooking were merely questions as to taste. The carcase should be cleaned as soon as possible after trapping the rabbits, though during the cold weather there was not the same necessity as in the summer for putting them immediately in the pickle. Members congratulated Mr. McDonald on the result of his work, and generally appeared to agree that the cured article was attractive and

tasty and likely to meet with favour. A hearty vote of thanks was accorded to Mr. McDonald.

Edward Abbott, author of Australia’s first cookbook The English and Australian Cookery Book: Cookery for the Many, as well as the Upper Ten Thousand (1864) had only this to say about rabbit.

“Rabbits are dry meat, only fit for pies or curries; and excellent served as the latter; indeed, lean meats always are best for this Indian dish.”

How do you like this very minimalist recipe for rabbit curry? I love the assumption that the reader/cook would know the ‘due proportions’ of seasoning, and how much stock would be a ‘sufficiency.’

Curried Rabbit.

Fry the pieces of rabbit in butter with a sliced onion, two apples, and two strips of bacon. When they begin to colour, add flour and curry in due proportions, with salt according to taste. Moisten with a sufficiency of stock, and let the whole simmer very gently for two hours. Before taking up, add a teaspoonful of sugar and a dessertspoonful of vinegar: then serve within a wall of plain, boiled rice, the pieces of rabbit piled high upon the dish, with the liquor in which they were boiled strained over them.

The Australasian (Melbourne, Victoria) 28 October, 1882

Food for the Million: The Soya Bean (1922)

One of the best-known pioneers of the use of the soybean in the West was the automobile entrepreneur, Henry Ford. Ford promoted and funded a great deal of research and marketing of the bean in the 1930’s and 1940’s, as we have discussed in a previous post (here, also here.) There were others around the world who were interested in the nutritional value of the soybean too, several decades earlier. An article in an Australian newspaper, The Land (Sydney, NSW,) of 24 February 1922 described the work of two such men – one a Hungarian scientist, the other a Harley Street (London) medical man.

Food for the Million.

            A Hungarian scientist, Dr. Laslo Berezeller, recently gave an account of experiments he has made with the soya bean. The nutritive value of this bean has been known for centuries. It comes into prominence to-day because from it can be made the cheapest and most sustaining food in the world. Great interest has been aroused in this Hungarian scientist's discovery. Greater interest will probably be aroused when it is known that Dr. K. R. Shaw, of Harley Street, London, has been working out the problems of the food value of the soya bean from the point of view of European consumption for many years.

            In an interview with a "Morning Post" representative, Dr. Shaw told how he first came to be interested in the soya bean and of the experiments he had made to produce foodstuffs from it.- "I came across the soya bean in Mexico some 20 years ago," said Dr. Shaw. "I was interested in it because I found that when the natives went on long treks all they took with them were soya beans. These were sufficient for all their wants. I watched how they prepared the beans; and found that all they, did was to roast them before eating them. I began to eat the beans myself, and found them both palatable and nourishing. On returning to England I began to collect all the information I could about the soya bean. As my information grew I found that the natives of the various countries, China, Japan, Mexico, were all content to eat the bean as it was after roasting it. It was clear that for Western palates this method would not do. I was also curious to know why they roasted the bean raw. I discovered that it contained a large quantity of volatile oil which made it quite unfit for consumption in the raw state. Animals, as well as human beings, could not thrive on the bean until the oil had been taken away. After a number of experiments I discovered a new method for getting rid of the oil. It is simpler than roasting, and merely consists in treating the bean with a certain amount of alcohol. All the wonderful nutritive values of the bean are retained, and for some time now I have been able to produce foods from the bean in a variety of forms.

            "These foods are perfectly palatable to Europeans (which has never been the case hitherto with any soya bean product either for animals or human beings). They can be produced in the form of bread, biscuits, or vegetables at prices much below any of those prevailing to-day for the staple articles ot diet. A person can live on the soya bean food and be adequately sustained for far longer than on any European food. Children thrive on it, and it is particularly efficacious in the case of those in any way affected by tuberculosis.

"The possibilities of this new bean food are boundless, particularly at a time when foodstuffs are so dear and some of the peoples of Central Europe are starving. I am convinced that the food now to be made from the soya bean will do something, at any rate, to solve the Russian famine problem.”

Our recipe for the day comes from another Australian newspaper, the Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners' Advocate (NSW) of 11 February 1936, which gave a recipe for using soybeans (in a feature on ‘Chinese cookery’) – a quite unusual find in cookery pages of the time supposedly on Chinese cookery.

Soya Bean Savoury.

Soak ½ lb. soya beans overnight. Boil in salted water until tender. Drain and rub through a sieve. Place in a saucepan, add ½ oz. butter, a dash of cayenne pepper, a tablespoonful of mushroom ketchup, a chopped red pepper, and a tablespoonful of lemon juice. Mix thoroughly, and make very hot. Have ready some triangles of thin buttered toast; spread some of the mixture on each and decorate with small pieces of red and green pepper.

Food for the Million: Pilchards (1873)

Yesterday I posted some early nineteenth century thoughts on food for “the Million,” which the Oxford English Dictionary defines in this context as “the bulk of the population; the multitude, the masses.” Imagine my delight to find that the first usage is attributed to none other than the Great Bard himself, William Shakespeare. The phrase appears in 1604, in Hamlet (ii. ii. 439) in the line “The play I remember pleasd not the million.”

Yesterday’s thoughts on Food for the Million came from a newspaper article of 1854. Today I want to start with another piece from an English newspaper – the Argus – of a decade earlier (April 1, 1843.)

Everything now-a-days is said to be done “FOR THE MILLION!” We wish the spirit of the saying were carried out to the full extent of the words, for then we might hope to see an ameliorated state of things, instead of the abounding misery and desolation of which we have daily so appalling descriptions.

 [The author goes on to briefly discuss singing and education before moving to food.]

“FOOD FOR THE MILLION” is a great matter of national importance and Ministerial consideration. A people which should be the strength and defence of a State, become its weakness and its injury, if they have not regular and cheap supplies of food; and to make that food really “for the Milllion,” that Million should raise it for themselves by their own labour and industry. We have soil enough in this country to produce sufficient bread-corn annually for all our population, and (according to Mr. Allison, and the best writers on such statistics) to support a population half as large again as that which now inhabits the British Isles; but to maintain this supply, all the labour of the country must be kept occupied: and thus, if we broke up and cultivated the waste lands capable of tillage, we should effect a most desirable end “for the Million,” something better than singing with Mr. Hullah, Mr. Mainzer, or Mr. Lanzer, we should provide.

“OCCUPATION FOR THE MILLION;” and in that consists the great secret of a nation’s wealth and tranquility. EMPLOY YOUR PEOPLE, then your Millions are content: and then if we begin with “Education for the Million” and find “Food for the Million,” through the “Occupation of the Million,” we may and shall have “Singing for the Million,” and “by the Million,” from Caithness to Cornwall.

A few decades later, in 1873, another London newspaper, the Central Press, talked about the problem of food for the million in “ever hungry London” and proposed pilchards as being a very suitable solution.

FOOD FOR THE MILLION.

The favourable accounts of the pilchard fishery which arrive from Cornwall serve to illustrate forcibly the want of some more regular and extensive supply of these fish to the London market. All over the country there are loud complaints of the exorbitant price of food, and struggling heads of families find it a harder matter than ever to live. In the metropolis the difficulty is at its height, and the charge for butchers’ meat is prohibitory to a large number of the population. Yet here on our very shores there is so abundant a supply of pleasant nutritive food that millions of fish are used for manure for want of a ready market! It is an absolute absurdity, and can be accounted for only by our national tendency to keep in the grooves of custom and prejudice. The pilchard, is it true, will not keep, and must be eaten at once if not preserved. But in these days of potted and salted food of all kinds that is surely no objection, and the fact that 40,000 hogsheads of them are sent abroad to Italy and Spain at once suggests the means of utilising them in London. In Cornwall itself they are salted for the winter, for it is impossible to consume the immense supply while fresh. A single boat often catches 60,000 in a night. Large quantities are pressed for the oil which they produce in abundance – a fact which testifies their nutritious qualities. With the prospect of a winter which is likely to press hard on the poor, cannot some enterprising speculator at once invest largely in salted Cornish pilchards, and send a new source of food supply into ever hungry London.

The recipe of the day of course must be for pilchards, or maybe sardines? The distinction is “unclear” to quote several sources, and there are regional variations of the meaning of the two words. In general, it may be said that a sardine is a smaller version of a pilchard, or perhaps a sardine is a Cornish pilchard re-branded. I am not sure. Maybe you are. If so, please give us your opinion via the Comments.

I give you a short commentary and some minimalist instructions for dealing with pilchards from a book published at the time of all this debate - A Practical Treatise on the Choice and Cookery of Fish (1854) , by William Hughes (‘Piscator’)

Pilchards, if they can be eaten perfectly fresh, have very much the same rich flavour as salmon-peel; but, from their extremely oily nature, they acquire a rancid taste within a very few hours after they are taken; and the flesh, which, if cooked in proper time, would have been of a curdy whiteness, then acquires a dull, reddish cast. The best way of cooking them is to broil them with their scales on, without gutting. They are also very good split, and peppered and salted. They also make a rich pie. In Cornwall numbers are salted in every year, for home use, and a still greater number for foreign, consumption. But, although esteemed by the Cornish people, and those to whom they are sent abroad, they are too strong and rancid to suit the palates of the generality of persons, and will not bear any comparison either with Yarmouth bloaters, or Scotch red herrings.

Food for the Million: Rice (1854).

Rice is cheap and everywhere available in the West nowadays, and it is easy to forget that it was once a slightly mysterious delicacy imported from far-away places. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW) of 6 November 1854 reprinted a piece from the English paper, the Mark Lane Express, which described the use of this food, particularly in relation to its value to “the million.” The million were of course the “poorer sort,” “the lower orders,” "the many" - in other words, the cottagers and labourers and other menial workers of the land and their families. I give you the first half of the article (the second part detailed the chemistry and nutritional beliefs related to rice at that time.)

Food for the Million: Rice.

RICE, although the food of a larger number of the inhabitants of the globe than any other kind of corn, is yet scarcely included in the daily bill of fare of the English labourer. This no doubt arises from the fact of its not being the produce of our climate. But such is no reason - seeing that we have become so dependent ujion foreign produce - but the contrary, if its merits recommend it; for it frequently occurs that when a deficient harvest is experienced in one climate, another has an abundant one, so that it manifestly becomes the interest of the inhabitants of the two to reciprocate with one another in the consumption of food, each accustoming itself to use so much of that of the other as circumstances may require. And we may just remind our readers that habit is necessary to reconcile the stomach of communities to this or that species of food.

Rice is deficient of gluten and fat, two of the most important elements of food for a hard-working man - a circumstance greatly against its introduction and use in this country. From infancy we ourselves have been rather partial to it, in puddings of every kind, and by way of experiment, used it one year during nearly four months, dining wholly upon it daily; but it will not do to work upon, for we not only lost weight but strength, and were glad to get hold of a beefsteak or mutton chop again at dinner.

It was cooked for us in various ways, but principally plain, the rice being boiled whole, and eaten with sugar, marmalade, jam, butter, cream, olive oil, or palm oil. When the rice is boiled with milk, and then baked with eggs, it proves a more substantial pudding, but too expensive for the table of the labourer, both as to cooking and nutritive value.

We also used rice-meal porridge to breakfast for nearly fourteen days in succession, cooking and eating it with milk the same as oatmeal porridge, with this exception, that we used a little ground nutmeg, ginger, and sugar, along with salt, for seasoning. But, although eaten with milk, it has not stamina for a working man; otherwise it is a very cheap diet, and easily cooked, not requiring one-third of the time which whole rice does.

Rice is frequently eaten along with curries or fricasees, made either of fish, fowl, game, or butcher-meat, or any compound of them - or, in short, any hash of animal food; and this is probably the best plan in which it is now brought to table. Eaten in this way it supplies the place of potatoes, with which it corresponds in chemical analysis, and makes a sufficiently savoury and substantial diet for a ploughman. On this he can perform his task daily from one year's end to the other without reason to complain. The following is a comparative analysis of dried rice and potatoes, from "The Chemistry of Common Life," in proof of what we have just said of them:

                                                Rice.                Potatoes.

Gluten                                     7½                   8

Starch, &c.                              92½                 92

                                                ------                 ------

                                                100                  100

From this it will be seen that the nutritive value of rice is rather under than above potatoes; but so near equality, that the difference would be immaterial in practice, were other things equal. Other things, however, are not quite equal, being more in favour of the latter, we believe, than the former. The mechanical construction of the two, for instance, is very different; the granules of the one being angular, and the other globular. Those of rice, for instance, are angular, and not half the size of the irregularly globuse-like granules of the potato; and besides, there are other chemical differences than gluten, for rice is rather constipating, while potatoes are the opposite.

The investigation of this subject, however, is yet in a very imperfect state, for both chemistry and physiology have much to do before we possess accurate information as to the constituent elements, cookery, and nutritive qualities of rice. We ourselves have had several years' experience of potato-fed labourers, but none of rice; and the experiments we have made personally for our own information are not sufficient to establish the question as to the superiority of the one over the other. Our opinion, however, has been generally concurred in, and is also corroborated to some extent by physical evidence. An Irishman, for instance, is not so "pot-bellied" as a Hindoo, which proves, as some have argued, the soundness of the conclusion; for the reason why the latter has been obliged to distend his stomach to a greater degree, arises from the fact that his diet – rice - is less nutritive, and he therefore must consume a larger quantity of it, while the former is capable of performing a larger amount of work. This latter conclusion may be qualified to some extent by the difference of climate under which the two labourers have to work; and it may also be said that the Hindoo has a more liberal supply of rice – i.e, is better fed.

Rice is found growing wild around the edges of many lakes in Hindustan. What is thus grown is smaller than any of the cultivated kinds, but superior in quality, fetching a high price, and is principally used by the higher classes, who esteem it a "dainty dish."

The different varieties of rice are cooked much after the same manner, but in various ways. It may be boiled, for instance, or stewed, or steamed; and in Java a practice prevails of half boiling half-steaming. It is sometimes boiled loose in an iron pot or pan, or vessel of stone-ware; and when sufficiently done, the water in which it is boiled is strained off, and the rice allowed to steam for a short time over the fire, prior to being dished. Currie, sweetmeats, olive, palm-oil, or sauce of some kind is sometimes poured over it: and in other cases the natives dip the rice in the oil, &c, or eat it along with fish, fowl, or meat of some kind. It is in other cases tied loose in a cloth, and then put into boiling water. The Javanase rice-pudding already referred to is cooked thus:

They take a conical earthen pot, which is open at the large end, and perforated all over ; this they fill about half full with rice, and putting it into a larger earthen pot, of the same shape, fined with boiling water, the rice in the first pot soon swells, and stops the perforations, so as to keep out the water ; by this method the rice is brought to a firm consistence, and forms a pudding, which is generally eaten with butter, oil, sugar, vinegar, and spices.

We quote the foregoing from Dr. Hooper's Medical Dictionary, and the same author adds that " the Indians eat stewed rice with great success, against  the bloody flux ; and in most inflammatory diseases, they cure themselves with only a decoction of it."

In this country numerous recipes are given for the cooking of rice. “Domestic Cookery, by a Lady," for instance, gives no fewer than twenty-two of them, besides various other dishes, in which it forms a part. But out of this long list, few are fit for the table of the hard-working man, principally owing to expense, but in some cases to too watery a form. We quote one or two of the most likely to be useful.

Casserole of Rice. - Take some well picked rice, wash it well, and boil it five minutes in water; strain it, and put it into a stew-pan, with a bit of butter, a good slice of ham, and an onion; stew it over a very gentle fire till tender ; have ready a mould lined with very thin thin slices of bacon; mix the yolk of two or three eggs with the rice, and then line the bacon with it, about half an inch thick; put into it a ragout of chicken, rabbit, veal, or anything else. Fill up the mould, and cover it close with rice; bake it in a quick oven an hour, turn it over, and send it to table in a good gravy or curry sauce.

Divesting the above of artistic ceremony and outward appearance, our readers will perceive that more than a labouring man may make a comfortable dinner of the odds and ends of cold meat of any kind, stewed with rice and eggs; for, if properly done in the stew pan, the latter process of moulding and baking will add little to its nutritive value. Rice, bacon, and eggs, in the pan, would make the heart of many a poor man glad, before he got the length of his own cottage door to dinner; and if he could afford rabbit, veal, or fowl-then, dividing the bacon and eggs, and making two or more dinners with the necessary quantity of rice to each, would be a very great improvement. When parties do not like onions, any other of the many articles for seasoning may be added, according to taste.

Rice Pudding With Fruit.- Swell the rice with a very little milk, over the fire; then mix fruit of any kind with it (currants, gooseberries scalded, pared and quartered apples, raisins, or black currants) with one egg in the rice to bind it, boil it well, and serve with sugar.

Baked Rice Pudding.-Swell rice as above, then add some more milk, one egg, sugar, allspice, and lemon peel; bake in a deep dish.

Miss Leslie of Philadelphia, the author of "American Domestic Cookery," gives the following recipe for making a baked rice pudding, without eggs, viz. :

Half a pint of rice, a quart of rich milk, four heaped teaspoonfuls of brown sugar, a heaped teaspoonful of powdered cinnamon. Pick the rice clean; and wash it through two cold waters, draining it afterwards till as dry as possible. Stir it into a deep dish containing a quart of rich milk, add the sugar and ground cinnamon. Set the dish into the oven, and bake the pudding three hours. It may be eaten warm, but is best cold. This is a very good pudding, and economical when eggs are scarce. Some fresh butter stirred in just before it goes to the oven, will improve the mixture.

We are not insensible to the use of an oven, but many poor people are minus such a privilege, and even if they had one, they have not the means of heating it three or four hours daily. Ground rice, boiled from five to ten minutes in rich milk, with sugar and cinnamon, will make just as nourishing a pudding as the above American. If eggs, butter, or fruit are added, so much the better. The latter will require a little more boiling; but any cottager's wife can easily tell when a gooseberry is boiled. Made in the manner we propose, it will require constant stirring, and should be thick and croquant. After being put into a deep pudding dish, if it be placed on hot ashes before the fire for a few minutes before being sent to table, it will make it more firm and palatable. It should never be touched until cooled to blood heat throughout; and many, if not the majority, as Miss Leslie observes, would prefer it cold.