Life and Food in the Open Air, Maine, 1856.

Theodore Winthrop (1828-1861) was an American writer and traveler who inevitably therefore, could not resist writing about his travels.  He did not let his poor health get in the way of his travel, nor did it stop him enlisting on the side of the Union, right at the outset of the Civil War. Sadly, Major Winthrop was killed at the Battle of Bethel – the first major land battle of the conflict.  

It is quite clear that Winthrop also enjoyed his food, and I am most grateful to him for the following quotation, which I think pretty well still sums up the situation today:

“It is surprising how confidential a traveller always is on the subject of his gastronomic delights. He will have the world know how he enjoyed his dinner, perhaps hoping that the world by sympathy will enjoy its own.”

Winthrop’s words on the impulse of the traveler to report on his dinner appear in Life in the Open Air: and Other Papers, which was published posthumously in 1863. So, what gastronomic delights of his own journeys would he have us know?  

In Life in the Open Air, Winthrop describes a journey on the waterways of Maine that he took in about 1856. He and his companions have just begun their journey down the Penobscot River, and camp for the night at the point where it is joined by “a little stream, the Ragamuff.” (The translations in italics are my own.)

Iglesias, as chef, with his two marmitons, had, meanwhile, been preparing supper. It was dark when he, the colorist, saw that fire with delicate touches of its fine brushes had painted all our viands to perfection. Then, with the same fire stirred to illumination, and dashing masterly glows upon landscape and figures, the trio partook of the supper and named it sublime.

Here follows the carte of the Restaurant Ragamuff, — woodland fare, a banquet simple, but elegant: —

POISSON.
Truite. Meunier.

[Troute with Meuniere Sauce]

ENTRÉES.
Porc frit au naturel.

[Fried Pork]
Côtelettes d'Élan.

[Elk chops]

RÔTI.
Tetrao Canadensis.

[grouse]

DESSERT.
Hard-Tack.  Fromage.

VINS

Ragmuff blanc.         Penobscot mousseux.
Thé.    Chocolat de Bogota.
Petit verre de Cognac.

Camping fare to boast about, indeed!

On another occasion the travellers are guests of a family in Millinoket [Millinocket], Maine, and he waxes exceeding lyrical about the simple dinner they were served: 

Ch. XV

OUT OF THE WOODS.

What could society do without women and children? Both we found at the first house, twenty miles from the second. The children buzzed about us; the mother milked for us one of Maine's vanguard cows. She baked for us bread, fresh bread, — such bread! not staff of life, — life's vaulting-pole. She gave us blueberries with cream of cream. Ah, what a change! We sat on chairs, at a table, and ate from plates. There was a table-cloth, a salt-cellar made of glass, of glass never seen at camps near Katahdin. There was a sugar-bowl, a milk-jug, and other paraphernalia of civilization, including — 0 memories of Joseph Bourgogne! — a dome of baked beans, with a crag of pork projecting from the apex. We partook decorously, with controlled elbows, endeavoring to appear as if we were accustomed to sit at tables and manage plates. The men, women, and children of Millinoket were hospitable and delighted to see strangers, and the men, like all American men in the summer before a Presidential election, wanted to talk politics. Katahdin's last full-bodied appearance was here; it rises beyond a breadth of black forest, a bulkier mass, but not so symmetrical as from the southern points of view. We slept that night on a featherbed, and took cold for want of air, beneath a roof.

I give you the instructions for Sauce Meûnière for your next camping trip, from Alexis Soyer’s Gastronomic Regenerator (1848). He gives it in a recipe for turbot.

Small Turbot a la Meûnière.

Crimp the turbot by making incisions with a sharp knife, about an inch apart, in the belly part of the fish, then rub two tablespoonfuls of chopped onions and four of salt into the incisions, pour a little salad oil over it and dip it in flour, then put it on a gridiron a good distance from the fire—the belly downwards—let it remain twenty minutes, then turn it by placing another gridiron over it, and turning the fish over on to it, place it over the fire for about twenty-five minutes, or longer if required; when done place it upon a dish and have ready the following sauce: put six ounces of butter in a stewpan, with ten spoonfuls of melted butter, place it over the fire, moving the stewpan round when very hot, but not quite in oil, add a liaison (No. 119) of two yolks of eggs, a little pepper, salt, and the juice of a lemon, mix it quickly and pour over the fish; serve directly and very hot. The fish must be kept as white as possible. For the above purpose the turbot should not exceed eight pounds in weight.

The Apple of Sodom.

I am able to follow-up on yesterday’s story on the eggplant (or aubergine, if you prefer.) One of the many names of this vegetable (which is technically fruit) is Apple of Sodom. I found the explanation of the name in a book which I am sure will give us other stories in the future. It is Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics, by Richard Folkard, and was published in 1884. The piece also shows once again the difficulties caused by the same common name being applied to several plants.

The author says:

The Solanum Sodomeum is a purple Egg-plant of which the fruit is naturally large and handsome. It is, however, subject to the attacks of an insect (a species of Cynips), which punctures this rind, and converts converts the interior of the fruit into a substance like ashes, while the outside remains fair and beautiful. It is found on the desolate shores of the Dead Sea, on the site of those cities of the plain the dreadful judgement on which is recorded in sacred history. Hence the fruit, called the Apple of Sodom, has acquired a sinister reputation, and is regarded as the symbol of sin. Its first appearance, it is said, is always attended with a bitter north-east wind, and therefore ships for the Black Sea take care to sail before the harbinger of bad weather comes forth. The fruit is reputed to be poisonous. Josephus, the Jewish historian, speaks of them as having “a fair colour, as if they were fit to be eaten but if you pluck them with your hand, they vanish into smoke and ashes.” Milton, describing an Apple, which added new torments to the fallen angels, compares it to the Apples of Sodom.

“Greedily they pluck’d

The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew

Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed.

This mere delusion, not the touch but taste

Deceived; they fondly thinking to allay

Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit

Chewed bitter ashes.”

Henry Teonge, who visited the country round the Dead Sea in 1675, describes it as being “all over full of stones which look just like burnt syndurs, and on some low shrubs there grow small round things which are called Apples, but no witt like them. They are somewhat fayre to looke at, but touch them and tey smooulder all to black ashes, like soote both for looks and smell.” – The name Apple of Sodom is also given to a kind of Gall-nut, which is found on the banks of the Jordan.  Dead Sea Apples is a term applied to the Bussorah Gall-nut, which is formed on the Oak Quercus infecoria by an insect and being of a bright ruddy purple, but filled with gritty powder they are suggestive of the deceptive Apple of Sodom

“Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye,

But turn to ashes on the lips.”

The recipes for the day are from The Creole Cookery Book, published for the Christian Woman's Exchange in New Orleans in 1885.

EGG PLANTS.

Parboil them, after splitting them in half, scrape out the middle, which you chop up with little slips of bacon, onion cut up small, and crumbs of bread mixed with a raw egg; then

fill the skins with this stuffing and bake them nicely. The bread is also grated on the surface of them.

STUFFED EGG PLANT.

Cut in half, take out the centre, boil the inside; when soft, chop fine, and season with fried onions, parsley, egg, salt, butter, pepper and bread, then stuff the outsides; cover with bread crumbs, and add the insides of fresh tomatoes, if you choose.

TURKISH EGG PLANT.

Slice 1, and just brown it in a frying pan, chop 2 lbs. cold beef, mutton or veal, very fine, season with one fine chopped onion, 6 whole peppers, (½ teaspoon cloves, ditto allspice, celery seed, white pepper and salt, put in baking dish a layer of egg plant, then of beef, and so on until it is filled, having layer of egg plant on top; pour cold gravy or water on the whole; cover with, another dish when set in oven, but remove it in time to let the top brown a little before done. 

Eggplants, Aubergines, Brinjals and Mad Apples.

Eggplant, Aubergine, Brinjal and Mad Apple are, as you are probably aware, alternative common names for the edible part of Solanum melongena, as are also Jew’s apple, egg-apple, egg-fruit, garden-egg, patlican, baingan, berenjena, alberginia, melongene, pea apple, Guinea squash, and Apple of Sodom, to mention just a few. To add further confusion, and a great deal of frustration for food historians, it also sometimes shares the name ‘love apple’ with the tomato. The Oxford English Dictionary summarises the etymological situation perfectly under the entry for brinjal: “Few names even of plants exemplify so fully the changes to which a foreign and unintelligible word is liable under the influence of popular etymology and form-association.”

A couple of facts: the eggplant is, botanically speaking, a fruit, although culinarily speaking it is clearly a vegetable. It belongs to the same family (Solanae) as the tomato (also botanically a fruit) and the potato (botanically a tuber, not a root.)

A couple of theories: initially the English name ‘eggplant’ was given to the white form, the name ‘aubergine’ to the purple. The latter is supposedly derived from the French auberge, which refers to ‘a kind of peach’ – which only adds to the confusion as aubergine (the colour) is generally considered to be purplish not peachy. The Oxford English Dictionary gives the first reference in English for each of these usages as:

Brinjal (as berenjaws)                     1698

Eggplant (the vegetable/fruit)       1767

Aubergine (the vegetable/fruit)     1796

Aubergine (the confused colour) 1896

A rather pithy comment in The Gardener's Dictionary (London, 1754) by Philip Miller might be interesting here. I gave it in a previous post but it is worth repeating part of it here. Miller gives under the entry for Melongena, or Mad Apple (of which he describes four varieties):

...Of late, some Persons who were ignorant of the true Name of this Plant, have given it that of the Egg-plant, from a Resemblance which some of these Fruit bear to Eggs; but this is confusing people. … These Plants are only preserv’d as Curiosities in the English Gardens, the Fruit never being used in this Country, except by some Italians or Spaniards, who have been accustom’d to eat of them in their own Countries.

If your preferred name for Solanum melongena is ‘brinjal’, or one of its many variants (bringella, bringiela, er beringela etc. etc.) you are using (according to the OED) an Anglo-Indian adaptation of the Portuguese word, which ultimately comes, via Spanish and Arabic, from Sanskrit. So it is old, very old.

Two interesting etymology factoids: the Sanskrit name is said to reference the supposed wind-removing (anti-flatulence?) property: and in the West Indies, a further ‘corruption’ has led to the name ‘brown-jolly.’

It appears that knowledge of Solanum melongena by Europeans is a lot older than the OED entries would suggest. The Definitive Glossary of British India (commonly known as ‘Hobson-Jobson’, published in 1886) gives an extract from Simão Botelho’s  Tombo do Estado da India.

1554: (At Goa) “And the excise from garden stuff under which are comprised these things: viz.: Radishes, beetroot, garlick, onions green and dry, green tamarinds, lettuces, conbalinguas, ginger, oranges, dill, coriander, mint, cabbage, salted mangoes, brinjelas, lemons, gourds, citrons, cucumbers, which articles none may sell except the Rendeiro of the excise, or some one who has got permission from him.

I have yet to look into the origin of the name ‘Apple of Sodom.’ I will keep you informed. In the meanwhile, I give you several recipes from The Art of French Cookery (London, 1827) by the French restaurateur, Antoine Beauvilliers:

The Aubergine is from the south and east, and has made little progress in this country; but they are an excellent herb, and must, as soon as known, be held in great estimation: they are of different sizes and colours; and are in appearance between the small gourd and cucumber.

Aubergines sur la Grille. Cut them in halves lengthways; do not take off the skin, but take off the stalk; put them in a dish; powder them with salt and pepper; baste them with a little oil; leave them to steep or marinade half an hour; put them on the grill; take care to baste them with their seasoning: when enough, serve.

Aubergines à la Tourtière. Cut them in two; take out the hearts as they do cucumbers; hash these hearts very fine; add parsley and shalots hashed; put all into a saucepan with a bit of butter: let it cook; put the Aubergines upon a tartpan; fill them with the ragout; put them into the oven and when done, serve.

American Canned Pork in Britain, WW II.

Yesterday I gave you a story about the rural Meat Pie Scheme in wartime Britain, and I included several pre-war pie recipes of great rich meatiness. The meat-pie reality during the war was of course quite different because of the strict rationing regulations in force. The Ministry of Food was in charge of determining and implementing rationing, and went to great lengths to assist the housewife in managing within the system. To this end, they produced weekly Food Facts leaflets containing hints and recipes, and I have used many of these in this blog over the years. From time to time they also published display advertisements to promote specific foods or tackle the more controversial regulations. These featured fictional individuals who gave their opinions or pleaded their case on these issues, such as the plump and jolly ‘Mrs. Merry.’ Here she is on the topic of American canned pork meat, in the Times of 3^rd March, 1942:

‘Take my case’

says Mrs. Merry

“My old man will have his joke about my fairy figure”, says Mrs. Merry. “But what chance do I have of getting my weight down when there’s food like this for the asking! American pork-sausage meat is the best bargain I ever tasted. For only 12 points you get this lovely great tin of it – a pound and a half of pure pork, in its own fat and gravy. They can call it sausage meat if they like, but its all pork, every bit of it, and the way I use it is in pies and pasties. In every tin you get some beautiful clean pork fat, separate from the pork-meat, and wonderful for making the pastry. It’s a real blessing, this pork-sausage meat and me and Merry would like to say thank you to someone.”

è That’s really nice of you, Mrs. Merry. Of course you’re right – and we are all of us grateful to our American allies for sparing us this pork meat, as well as to the brave men who bring it to us over the ocean, You haven’t told us just how you fancy your pork pie or your pasty, but you’ll be doing wonders if you beat these two recipes!

Fillets of Pork. Leek Sauce.

Flake ½ lb. pork-sausage meat (with the outside fat removed), then mix in ½ lb. mashed potato and one cupful crisp breadcrumbs. Season well with pepper and salt adding a pinch of sage if liked. Then bind with a thick sauce made from the meat juices taken from the can and made up to 1 teacup measure with a little vegetable stock and 1 tablespoon flour plus a little of the pork fat from the tin.

Divide into nine or ten sections, shape into finger rolls, coat in more crumbs, and fry or bake till heated through and crisp-coated, with a light greasing of pork fat for the frying pan or baking-tin.

These are delicious by themselves, but if you have a leek or leek stock to spare, serve it with a leek sauce made with ½ pint of cooking milk and leek stock, 1 oz. flour, and ½ oz. fat, with good seasoning, 2 small leeks, cut small and cut in a very little water, provide the flavour.

Pork Pies.

Small pork pies, or homely pasties, are quickly made and fuel-saving too. Remember to use the pure fat from the can of sausage for making the pastry, and if they are to serve as substantial meals for packet-lunch or fire-watch, see that the filling really has the necessary nourishment. Here is a substantial one to use:- Chop finely or mince 1 leek, or leek green. Place these in a saucepan with ½ teaspoon hot fat from can to cook slowly for ten minutes. Then add grated carrot, six ounces of forked-up pork sausage (fat removed), ½ teacup of breadcrumbs and 1 dessertspoon of gravy powder, with enough vegetable liquor or water to loosen. Mix well, then cook slowly, stirring to keep clear of the pan, for ten more minutes. Add cook seasonings of salt and pepper, then cool down for use in pasties (enough for six hearty ones and you’ve still got half your can of sausage meat for tomorrow).

The Rural Meat Pie Scheme, Britain, WW II.

The British wartime Ministry of Food was particularly concerned about the midday meal of workers, especially those in physically-demanding jobs.  Many factory workers could take advantage of on-site canteens, and town workers could go to the rather fancily-named subsidized ‘British Restaurants,’ but these were not always available to farm workers. One solution was to take the food to the fields – and so the Rural Pie Scheme was born. An article in The Times in April 1942 explained the plan:

Pies and Snacks for Farm Workers.

Lord Woolton’s New Scheme.

The Minister of Food is anxious to secure that farm workers are able to take a meal on the job as munition workers can. This has been possible for some through rural British Restaurants – “where these have been established they are doing well,” Lord Woolton stated yesterday – and through canteens on farms themselves.

“But these methods,” the Minister of Food stated,” “really only deal with places where farm workers are not too widely scattered. Now we have a third scheme, which we call the meat pie scheme, and that has the best chance of being quickly developed. We have tried it in practice, and it seems to be pretty hopeful.”

Divisional food officers have been asked to expand this scheme, under which meat pies and snacks are delivered to the workers on farms, as quickly as possible. They will call meetings of local authorities, voluntary helpers, and farmers and farm workers. In addition to local authorities, any responsible voluntary organization, such a W.V.S. or a women’s institute or a group of helpers certified by a war agricultural committee will be authorized to operate schemes for the manufacture and distribution of meat pies and snacks in rural areas. The pies and snacks will be made by British Restaurants, or a local authority may authorize the village baker to make them. Care will be taken to ensure that the food reaches the farm workers.

Much has already been done. In the Seven-oaks area, for instance, there are mobile canteens operating, with three centres which serve 200 meals a day. In the Haslemere district, there is a British Restaurant which not only serves 200 meals a day, but sends out hot meals in containers to a local farm. In the Eastern division, 13 rural district councils are serving meals, and four are sending cooked meals to farms.

Such was the success of the scheme, that it is recorded that 1,300,000 pies were sold in one week in 1944

As the recipe for the day, I give you an article containing the instructions for making meat pies the like of which were only a dream under the meat-rationing rules of World War II. It is from a regular column called Recipes for Small Households, in the Times in October 1938.

Some Good Pies

Pies are of two recognized kinds. Raised pies (filled with meat or pieces of boned bird or game) and those done in a pie dish with a covering of pastry, in which whole, halved, or disjointed birds are laid. In any case the dish is rubbed with shallot and buttered with chopped parsley before being filled. Crevices can be packed with finely chopped liver. Shredded mushroom or a little mushroom [word missing;  ketchup?] are good additions, but bacon is quite indispensable, as a third of the pie must be of fat.

Strongly flavoured sauces are taboo, the savoury qualities of the meat and stock (mixed with wine) being sufficient. Two ounces of dried mixed herbs pounded with half an ounce of mace and one of black pepper make a useful seasoning. Our elders complain, not without reason, that “pork pies are not what they were,” so here is an old-time recipe for that delicacy.

Cold Pork Pie.

Roll out a good short crust and line a deep round dish with it. Fill it with an even number of slices of fat and of lean pork which have been rolled in white spices and chopped sweet herbs. Season with salt and pepper (mixing three ounces of salt to one of pepper and using half an ounce of this to one pound of meat). Dot with tiny pieces of butter. Cover with a pastry roof, make a hole in the top and glaze, towards the end of the baking, by brushing a well-beaten egg over the surface. When finished, remove the crust and pour in sufficient jellied gravy made from a pig’s foot stewed with shredded onion and plenty of finely chopped parsley until the meat drops from the bone. Then cover again and cool. If served hot, some like the addition of sliced apples and a little white wine.

Beef and Bacon Pie.

Choose some good undercut of beef, and have it cut a third of an inch thick. Divide into pieces about four inches long by two and a half wide. Season them with pepper, salt, and mace. Next cut thin slices of cold boiled bacon of a like size, and lay one on each, rolling them both up together. Rub the pie dish, as usual, with a shallot, butter it, and sprinkle finely chopped parsley over it before packing it closely with these rolls. Powder with more chopped parsley. Pour over some good jellied stock, put on the lid and bake for the usual time.

Small individual pies (mutton or beef) are always popular. Accompanied by carrots (put raw through a mincer and cooked in a little hot water with butter flavoured with pepper and salt), either of these two recipes makes an excellent luncheon dish.

Individual Pies.

Add sufficient diced neck of mutton to chopped onion, parsley and mushroom. Season with a little thyme, pepper, and salt. Cook until tender in good veal stock flavoured with Worcestershire sauce. Then thicken with flour, stirring thoroughly. Take out and cool. Now fill with this mixture some cases of half-puff pastry the size of a saucer. Put on the lids and bake in a moderate oven for about half an hour. Brush over with egg. Here is another filling. Take a quarter of a pound of rump steak (finely minced) with a quarter of a pound each of chopped potato and swede and two ounces of onion. First put in a layer of potatoes and swede, then the onion, and lastly the meat. Sprinkle well with pepper and salt.

I will give you some real wartime pies tomorrow!

Convict Chain Gang Rations; Van Diemen’s Land, 1834.

This is my last Tasmania-inspired post, as I leave the state today after my holiday, and am heading home to Brisbane.

Tasmania is named for the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, who was the first European to land on its shores. Tasman himself had called the island ‘Anthoonij van Diemensland’, in honour of Anthony van Diemen, Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies, and the man who had sent him on the mission to search for the Great South Land. ‘Van Diemen’s Land’ became Tasmania, in honour of Abel Tasman, when it became independent of New South Wales in 1856.

The British set up a military outpost on Van Diemen’s land in 1803, to thwart any attempts by the French to claim it for their own. The island ultimately became home to forty percent of the convicts sent to Australia between the first settlement in 1788 and 1853, when penal transportation was abolished.

The penalty of transportation came with the order of hard labour, and labour hard they certainly did. Many of the males were assigned to chain gangs to build roads, and for this they needed sufficient food for the back-breaking effort required in the days before heavy machinery. The Select Committee on Transportation (1837) made orders as to the ‘Discipline and Control of Convicts employed in the Road Department in Van Diemen’s Land,’ and these were spelled out in a document from Lieut.-Governor Arthur to Mr. Secretary Stanley, dated 19 December 1834:

Men working in the chain and unassignable gangs will receive

the following ration:

1 ½ lb. 12 per cent. bread, or 1 ¼ lb. bread and ½ lb. vegetables,

or 1 lb. bread, ¼ pint oatmeal, and ½ lb. vegetables.

1 lb, fresh or salt meat, or 10 oz. pork.

½ oz. salt

½ oz. soap.

Men in the unassignable gangs will receive the following ration:

1 ½ lb. bread, or 1 ¼ lb. bread and ½ lb. vegetables.

1 lb. meat

¼ oz. salt.

½ oz. soap.

1 oz. sugar.

1 oz. roasted wheat for coffee.

One man will be appointed daily be the superintendent, according to rotation, to act as messman for the gang, and it will be his care to see that the proper weight of rations is served out to the cook.

He will complain to the superintendent if the rations appear to him to be of bad quality.

The inspector of roads will select overseers and watchmen, also a clerk to assist the superintendent, a blacksmith, cook, rough carpenter, cobbler, tailor, messenger and baker for each gang, from among uch men in the employment of the Crown, not under punishment, as the pincipal superintendent may consider eligible.

It will be the duty of the superintendent to take care that these men perform such services as are required of them at the station, and that they do not mis-spend or mis-appropriae their time or labour.

Some convicts were luckier, and were assigned as servants to officials and free settlers. Their allowance too, was regulated:

Authorized Scale of Rations to Assigned Servants.

Government Notice, November 4, 1834.

1 lb. fresh meat.

1 ½ lb. bread and 1 lb. of vegetables, or

1 lb. bread and 2 lbs. vegetables.

1 oz. sugar, and 1 oz. roasted wheat for coffee, or

2 pints of milk, or

2 pints of table beer.

10 oz. of salt pork, or 1 lb. of other salt meat, not to be

Issued oftener than twice a week in lieu of fresh meat.

There are no recipes extant for convicts’ bread that I am aware of. It was assumed that the basic method was so well known that detailed instructions were not necessary. I do not know, for certain, what is meant by ‘12 per cent. bread’, but suspect it referred to the proportion of good wheat flour, the balance being made up of lesser grains, beans, oatmeal and the like. I hope one of you can enlighten me.

As the recipe for the day, I give you a little something from the first genuine Australian cookery book. It is called The English and Australian Cookery Book, and was published in 1864 by ‘An Australian Aristologist’ – the pseudonym of Edwin Abbott. Abbott was Sydney-born but moved to Hobart with his family at the age of about fourteen. He became a newspaper editor and publisher, and eventually, an elected member of the first State Parliament. The book includes recipes for such things as “pan jam” kangaroo tails roast in the ashes) and “slippery bob” (kangaroo brains fried in emu fat) alongside instructions for cooking ortolans and peacock, and for making trifle and punch. It was decidedly not a commercial success.

Camp Ketchup.

Take of old beer two quarts; white wine, one quart; anchovies, four ounces. Mix, and heat to the boiling point; remove it from the fire, and add three ounces of peeled shallot, half an ounce of mace, nutmegs, ginger, and black pepper. Macerate for fourteen days, and strain.

A Grand Banquet, Hobart, 1862.

It was an article of faith for colonial expatriates of the British Empire, wherever they might be in the world, that they celebrate with vigour all occasions pertinent to ‘Home’ - and to celebrate them in the same style as at ‘Home,’ with no thought of concessions as to local seasonal produce or appropriateness to climatic conditions.  The loyal British citizens of Hobart Town, Tasmania – the movers and shakers that is - celebrated the coming-of-age of the Prince of Wales in 1862 with a bill of fare indistinguishable from any other served at that time in London or any of the far-flung part of The Empire (although the order of service is a little unusual). It seems that John Webb, the pardoned convict turned caterer mentioned in yesterday’s post may have been the caterer.

The Mercury (Hobart, Tasmania) of 4 November, 1862 described the event in detail:

The Mayor's Banquet.

The Right Worshipful the Mayor of Hobart Town, Alfred Kennerley, Esq., gave a grand banquet last evening at Del Sarte's Rooms, Harrington-street, to commemorate the twenty-first anniversary of the birth of H. R. H. the Prince of Wales .

… the preparation of the feast was entrusted to Webb, of Murray-Street who provided the following bill of fare:

FIRST COURSE	SECOND COURSE
Green Pea Soup, Fish. Removed. -- Roast Turkey. Asparagus, Lamb, Cauliflower, Turkey, Pes, Tongue. Veal Cutlets, Peas. Green Pea Soup, Boiled Turkey. Asparagus, Patties. Roast Fowls, Cauliflower. Ham, Peas, Goose, Cauliflower. Pair of Ducks, Sweet Breads. Asparagus, Mock Turtle Soup. Stewed Breast of Veal. Peas, Curry, Tongue. Spinach, Roast Pig, Asparagus. Boiled Fowl, Peas. Saddle of Mutton. -- Mock Turtle Soup, Removed.	Plum Pudding Custards, Baked Puddings. Jelly, Trifle, Custards. Apple Tart, Jelly, Meringes. Fondue, Open Tart, Jelly. Cabinet Pudding. Custards, Rhubarb Pie, Jelly. Jelly, Gooseberry Pie. Custards, Cabinet Pudding. Jelly, Open Tart. Charlotte Rouss. Almond Pudding, Orange Jelly. Damson Pie, Custards. Tipsy Cake, Jelly. Baked Pudding, Custards. Royal Pudding. Dressed Salad. Cheese and Butter.
DESSERT
Strawberry Ice Cream Oranges Macaroons, Prunes Savoy Biscuits. Almonds and Raisins Apples, Punch Cake Olives, Ginger. Oranges. Comquets, Biscuits, Ratafis, Figs. Almond Cake. Almonds and Raisins, Olives. Apples, Oranges, Ice, Oranges.	Strawberry Ice Cream. Ginger, Savoy Cake, Prunes. Ratifias, Oranges, Biscuits. Ginger, Prunes. Apples. Almonds and Raisins, Olives. Savoy Cake. Savoy Biscuits, Macaroons. Oranges, Orange Ice.
WINES
Champagne, Sparkling Moselle, Hock, Port, Sherry, and Claret.

I have chosen as the recipe for the day, nineteenth century instructions for fondue, from the Household Recipes column in The Tasmanian (Launceston, Tas.) of 3 December, 1881:-

Parmesan Fondue.

Melt half an ounce of fresh butter in a saucepan, stir into it a tablespoonful of flour; when the two are well amalgamated, put in a small quantity of milk and about three ounces of grated Parmesan cheese. Stir the mixture on a slow fire till it assumes the appearance of thick cream, but be careful not to let it boil; then add one clove of garlic, a small quantity bf flour of mustard, a dash of powdered nutmeg, and some white pepper; mix thoroughly,, and if required, add a little salt; keep on stirring the mixture at a very moderate heat for about ten minutes; then remove the clove of garlic, take the saucepan off the fire, and stir the contents occasionally until quite cold, then stir into them the yolks of three eggs beaten up with a little milk and strained, and finally the whites of five eggs whisked into a stiff froth. Pour the mixture, into a deep round tin, put it into the oven, which must not be too hot; in about twenty or thirty minutes the fondue will have risen and taken colour. Pin a napkin round the tin, and serve quickly.

Drinking and Dining at the Races in Hobart, 1859.

While I am in Hobart I am staying at Hadley’s Orient Hotel, which is one of the oldest hotels in Australia. It was built by convict labour in 1834, when the island penal colony was still known as van Diemen’s Land (the official name change came in 1856.) The building was originally called the Golden Anchor Inn, then in 1849 it became the Marquis of Waterford, under which name it traded for many years. When a pardoned convict called John Webb bought the hotel, it became known simply as ‘Webb’s Hotel.’ (As an interesting aside, Webb subsequently went on to become official caterer to Government House. In the 1890’s the hotel was purchased by John Clay Hadley, who renamed it Hadley’s Orient Hotel. The hotel has played a huge role in the city’s history, and has welcomed many famous guests including Prince Alfred of England (in 1868,) Roald Amundsen (in 1912 after his return from the South Pole) and Errol Flynn.

History snippet number 2: The first recorded horse race in Tasmania took place in 1813 – a mere decade after European settlement. It was in ‘New Town’, a small settlement a couple of miles from Hobart town centre, which finally gained its own post office in 1842, and is now is an inner residential suburb graced with magnificent Federation-style homes.

So, now you have some context for my story today.

In 1859, the three-day Annual Metropolitan horse race meet began on 6^th April, at the New Town Race course. It was a huge affair, with almost as much effort applied to the catering as to the sporting aspects. The first day’s events were described in minute detail in The Courier (Hobart, Tasmania.) The weather on the day was apparently fine and fair, and we are also told that:

The Turf was in first-rate order and the Course presented a gay appearance.

Most of the citizens, with their families, availed themselves of the opportunity to leave for a short time, the toil of business and the dust and smoke of the city*, and enjoy the fresh air and delightful scenery of the country.

A party of Police, under Mr. Sub-Inspector Weale, were in attendance, should their services be required to preserve order.

[*the population of the entire state that year was less than 88,000 persons.]

Various hostelries set up refreshment booths (all listed in the newspaper), and one of these was provided by the hotel in which I am now staying, when it was still called The Marquis of Waterford. There were also ‘two booths conducted on temperance principles’ and ‘swings, &c were provided for the juveniles.’ It seems like it was a fine day out for the citizenry both rich and not-so rich.

It is, however, the bill of fare enjoyed by the committee members and their guests which is the real purpose of this post:

THE COMMITTEE BOOTH

Was under the superintendence of Mr. George Brown, of the Sir John Falstaff, Campbell-street, and the varied and plentiful supply of refreshments, as well as the excellence of the arrangements, reflected great credit upon him.

The arches under the Grand Stand had been curtained off, and hung with the flags of

All Nations, forming a most commodious dining-room. Down the centre ran a long

table, which, whilst it was covered with a profusion of good things, was laid out and décor rated in a very tasteful and artistic manner. Covers were laid for fifty, but during the day fresh guests were continually arriving. At the head of the table a gigantic baron of beef, garnished appropriately, and decorated with flowers, reared its lordly proportions, sirloins of beef; saddles of mutton, turkies, geese, ducks, fowls, game, &c, formed the first course. The second consisted of tarts, puddings, jellies, blanc mange, custards, and a choice dessert concluded the spread.

Every dish was ornamented with flowers and appropriate ornaments, and vases of choice floral beauties were placed at short distances on the table. The centre-piece was very beautiful and was much admired. It consisted of a pyramid of grapes surmounted by a bouquet of dahlias grouped in the form of a tulip.

The wines, spirits, &c. were of the first qualities, and the courtesy and attention of

Mr. Brown and his assistants were such as to win the golden opinions of the guests.

The following is the day's bill of Fare:

Baron of beef (1) weighing 88 lbs., sirloins (12), saddles of mutton (8), rounds of beef (8), sucking pigs (10) tongues (22), hams (12).

Turkeys roasted (14), turkeys boiled (8), geese (16), ducks (18 couple), fowls (20 couple, boiled and roasted.)

Wild ducks (8) pairs, quail (8 dishes).

Giblet pies (12), chicken pies (10), veal pies (10), pigeon pies (8), French raised pies (12), rump steak pies (8)

Apple tarts (20), open tarts (25), boiled custards (20 dozen glasses), 20 quart moulds lemon, orange and calves foot jellies, blanc mange (20 dishes), raspberry creams (12 dozen), plum puddings (25).

Grapes (12 dishes), apples (12 dishes), pears (12 dishes), raisins and almonds (20 dishes), biscuits, cakes, &c.

The whole of the provisions were cooked on Mr. Brown's premises, Campbell-street, under the superintendence of William Jones, from Farance’s, Spring Gardens, London.

The Flowers and Fruit were from the Nursery gardens of Mr. Alexander Begg, Battery

Point.

As the recipe for the day, I am going with the grapes. Grapes appear in the above bill of fare simply arranged in dishes, which is surely the best way to eat them. The admirable centre-piece also featured grapes, and it is to be hoped they were not discarded with the deceased dahlias. 

Please enjoy this marvelous solution to the problem of too many grapes whether due to a leftover situation or a produce glut. From The Tasmanian (Launceston, Tas.) of 17 November, 1888:-

Spiced Currants and Grapes.

To five pounds of currants or grapes add half a pint of vinegar, three pounds of sugar, and a tablespoonful each of ground cinnamon, cloves, and allspice. Cook 15 minutes, , stirring frequently; then remove from the fire, strain, and even run through a sieve. Some cooks add a teaspoonful of white pepper and the same of salt, but such flavours do not suit all tastes. Preserve in air-tight pint jars. This will be found a most delicious condiment with meats and game