An Improved Dessert Maker.

You know how much I love to find recipes in unusual places, don’t you? Well, I have a classic for you today from a patent application made in April 1878 by William H. Silver. It is a recipe for crème patisserie. Note that Mr. Silver was not attempting to claim the recipe itself as his own invention, which he could clearly not have gotten away with, but he used it as an example of what could be made with his new improved dessert maker. I give you an extract from the patent application.

WILLIAM H. SILVER, OF NEW YORK, N. Y., ASSIGNOR TO ANN SILVER, OF
ST. LOUIS, MO.
IMPROVEMENT IN DESSERT-MAKERS.
Specification forming part of Letters Patent No. 203,081, dated April 30, 1878; application filed April 1, 1878

"In making various dessert preparations it is necessary not only to measure several different ingredients, but also, usually, to beat the several ingredients, or two or more of the same, together until they assume a given consistency or shade of color, or until they are thoroughly mixed. For example, a recipe for "creams patissiere" is as follows: First, beat four whites of eggs to a very firm body, and then mix with them about one ounce of pulverized sugar; second, take four yolks of eggs and half a gill of milk, and beat well together until thoroughly mixed; third, take about two ounces of pulverized sugar, with a tea-spoonful of potato-starch and two-thirds of a gill of milk, mix the same well, then add the yolks and milk, and beat the whole well together, &c."

[there follows some technical stuff, and then the applicant goes on to describe his invention]

“My dessert-maker is a most efficient eggbeater for all purposes; but its adaptation for mixing two or more ingredients is the basis of my present claims.

I do not claim the glass measuring-jar herein described, in itself considered; nor do I wish to cover by my claims a stationary agitator in combination with a glass receptacle having a contracted waist, this being old in egg-beaters.

The following is what I claim as new and of my own invention, and desire to secure by Letters Patent, namely:

1. The combination, in a dessert-maker, of a cylindrical, or nearly cylindrical, vertical receptacle, of transparent glass, having measuring-graduations on its outer surface, and a mixing and beating dasher, adapted to reciprocate within said receptacle, substantially as herein shown and described.

2. The combination, in a dessert-maker, of a cylindrical, or nearly cylindrical, vertical receptacle, of transparent glass, having graduations for different substances on its sides, a close cover tightly fitted to the top of said receptacle, and a reciprocating dasher, for mixing two or more ingredients within said receptacle, substantially as herein specified.”

P.S an actual recipe for ‘Improved Tomato Soup’ was in fact patented in 1865: you can find the details HERE.

Quotation for the Day.

A good cook is the peculiar gift of the gods. He must be a perfect creature from the brain to the palate, from the palate to the finger's end.
Walter Savage Landor

Almanac On My Mind.

I am pleased, proud, and a little scared to announce that I have a new book project. It is to be a Food History Almanac to be published by AltaMira Press - but not for a couple of years as it is a big, two-volume project.

I can only hope to provide as much fun as Morton's Sixpenny Almanack And Diary, With Diary and Compendium, published in London, in1876.  Today I give you some gleanings from this delightful book – the food-oriented ones, of course.

Firstly, I give you A String of Mottoes, and encourage you to add your own to the list:

A String of Mottoes.

For Publicans                         Love me, love my grog.

For Cooks                   Onion is strength.

For Bakers                  Early to bread, and early to rise.

For Cheesemongers    High and mighty.

For Fishmongers        Confession is good for the soul.

For Milkmen               Chalk it up.

For Pork Butchers      The whole hog or none.

For Woodcutters         Chops and Steaks.

Secondly, I give you a small selection of the riddles scattered through the text (focussing on those with a food reference of course):

-          Why is a publican's trade a profitable one to follow ?—Because, by conducting it with good spirit, he has more bar-gains than most others, and all the pull is on his side.

-          What animal has death no effect on?—A pig, because directly you have killed him you can cure him, and save his bacon.

Next, I give you some of the medical advice from the book (something that will NOT be included in my own Almanac, I promise)

Dyspepsia.

Dr. Brown-Sequard's method of treating dyspepsia, which he has found successful in the majority of cases during ten years' practice, is on the principle of eating little but often. Take from one to four mouthfuls at once, but eat again in ten, twenty, or thirty minutes. Use nourishing food and drink, as roasted or boiled meats, and especially beef, mutton, eggs, well baked bread, and milk, with butter and cheese, and a very moderate quantity of vegetables and fruit. Beef tea or milk is recommended instead of water, and the quantity of solid food for one day should not exceed forty ounces. This plan need be pursued but two or three weeks, when return may be had to the ordinary rule of three meals a day. By this method the stomach is gently and steadily occupied but not over-loaded.

(P.S. We had a recipe for Dyspepsia Bread in a previous post.)

Advice to Consumptive People.

You want air, not physic. You want nutrition, Each as plenty of meat and bread will give, and they alone. Physic has no nutriment; gaspings for air cannot cure you; monkey capers in a gymnasium cannot cure you, and stimulants cannot cure you. If you want to get well, go in for beef and out-door air, and do not be deluded into the grave by advertisements and unreliable certifiers. - Dr. Hall.

And, finally – what is an Almanac without recipes? I can certainly promise that some will be included in my own work. Here is the example that followed the above advice to consumptives:

Barley Water.

Wash two ounces and a half of pearl barley; boil for one minute in half a pint of water, which throw away; then pour on to the barley four pints of water; boil down to two pints, and strain. Flavour with sugar and lemon to taste. This is an excellent drink in cases of fever.

Quotation for the Day.

All hail! a cow, with coat of silk,
That yields the rich and poor the milk,
Supplying peasant and the peer
With yellow butter—giving cheer
To rustic's and to prince's board,
The creamy store she doth afford.

[From an un-credited poem in Morton’s Sixpenny Almanac.]

An Unusual Wedding Cake.

I have a curious recipe for you today. At least, it seems curious today, when the ‘traditional’ wedding cake is a great slab, dense with fruit - identical to Christmas cake apart from the style of decoration. Perhaps the following recipe was ‘traditional’ in the United States in the 1870’s? The recipe is from What to eat, and how to cook it: with rules for preserving, canning and drying fruits and vegetables, by John Cowan (New York, 1870)

Wedding Cake.

Mix one pint of boiled cracked wheat; one cocoanut, grated; half pint cocoanut milk; half pint dried currants; one quart stewed sweet apples, or figs softened with hot water; and wheat meal sufficient to make a moderately stiff dough. Bake, in loaves, from one and a half to two hours.

Quotation for the Day.

In all of the wedding cake, hope is the sweetest of plums.

Douglas Jerrold.

To Preserve Flesh Meat.

Regular readers will be aware that I am intrigued by the methods used by our fore-fathers to preserve perishable foods. I came across a nice example the other day which I want to share with you. It is from a book with the full title of: The domestic encyclopedia: or, A dictionary of facts and useful knowledge, comprehending a concise view of the latest discoveries, inventions, and improvements, chiefly applicable to rural and domestic economy (Philadelphia, 1803.)  What is particularly interesting about this method is that it used one highly perishable food to preserve another. As a bonus, a second, completely different method specifically for preserving game, is included in the instructions.

“Another method of preserving flesh-meat, especially veal and lamb, is practised in Germany, and consists simply in immersing them in skimmed milk, so as to cover the whole joint. In warm weather, the milk should be changed twice the first day, and once in twenty-four hours; but, in a cool temperature it is sufficient to renew it every two or three days. Thus, the meat may be kept in a sweet state for several weeks; but it ought to be washed in spring water before it is. dressed. Game and beef, however, cannot be preserved in the same manner, and therefore should be wrapped in a clean linen cloth, and buried in a box filled with dry sand, where it will remain sweet for three weeks, if deposited in an airy, dry, and cool chamber.”

As I think it unlikely that you will try either of these ideas, I give you an alternative way of using up your skimmed milk supply.

Spanish Puffs.
Take one pint of skim milk, and thicken it with flour; boil it very well till it is tough as paste, then let it cool, put it into a mortar, and beat it very well. Put in three eggs, and beat it again, then three eggs more, keeping out one white. Put in some grated nutmeg and a little salt. Have your pan over the fire, with some good lard; drop the paste in ; fry the puffs a light brown, and strew sugar over them when you send them up.
[The lady's own cookery book, and new dinner-table directory; Lady Charlotte Campbell Bury, 1844]

Quotation for the Day.

Being American is to eat a lot of beef steak, and boy, we’ve got a lot more beef steak than any other country, and that’s why you ought to be glad you’re an American. And people have started looking at these big hunks of bloody meat on their places, you know, and wondering what on earth they think they are doing.

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Broccoli-Brockala

I have not paid enough attention to vegetables recently – not in my diet, I hasten to add, but certainly in my blog. Today I want to talk about broccoli. The first reference to broccoli listed in the Oxford English Dictionary is from John Evelyn’s Acetaria, in which he mentions it as coming from Naples, which is interesting in itself. The next reference is from Bailey’s dictionary of the 1730’s in which it is defined as ‘an Italian Plant of the Colly-Flower Kind.’  There does not seem to be any doubt that we must give the Italians the credit for cultivating or popularising the broccoli.

The OED definition is:

 “One of the cultivated forms of the cabbage (Brassica oleracea botrytis asparagoides), the young inflorescence of which forms a close fleshy edible head: in its origin a more robust and hardy variety of the cauliflower. Broccoli is distinguished as green, purple, and white, the last hardly distinguishable from cauliflower, except in being in season in winter or early spring.”

Strangely, the OED does not give any alternative spellings of the word ‘broccoli’ other than ‘brocoli’, which is an odd omission considering that ‘brockala’ was also used, as in the following recipe from The Modern Cook and Frugal Housewife’s Compleat Guide, by E. Spencer (‘Late Principal COOK to a Capital TAVERN in London’), 1782. Many early recipes for broccoli suggest that the stalks can be cooked and used like asparagus – a fine comment on our modern practice, when we tend to throw away much of the stalk.

To dress Brockala.

Strip off all the branches till you come to the top one, then with a knife peel off the hard outside skin, which is on the stalks and little branches, and tie them up as asparagus, and throw them into water; have a stew-pan of water with some salt in, when it boils put in the brockala, and when the stalks are tender it is enough, then send to table with butter in a cup.

P.S for nineteenth century Broccoli and Buttered Eggs, go HERE.

Quotation for the Day.

A vegetable garden in the beginning looks so promising and then after all little by little it grows nothing but vegetables, nothing, nothing but vegetables.

Gertrude Stein.

A Gingerbread Puzzle.

I have a short but I hope sweet puzzle for you today. I wonder if any of you can explain the name of the following recipe which I found in Cassell's Dictionary of Cookery (1870's)?

Gingerbread Leek (excellent)
Mix thoroughly, one ounce and a half of ginger in one pound and a half of flour; add one pound and a quarter of sugar, and two ounces of peel, cut very fine. Melt together half a pound of butter, and a quarter of a pound of the best treacle. Stir these into the flour etc., flavour with three drops of essence of lemon, or more, if liked, and make the mixture into a smooth firm paste, with three eggs, well beaten. Roll out on a floured board, and cut the paste into fingers. Bake in a good oven for ten minutes. Store in a closely-covered tin box.

The only idea I can come up with is that the name is derived from the medieval ‘leach’ or ‘leche’, referring to a dish which can be sliced. The definition of this word in the Oxford English Dictionary does include a reference to gingerbread:

“A dish consisting of sliced meat, eggs, fruits, and spices in jelly or some other coagulating material. Often in adoptions of Anglo-Norman combinations, denoting particular varieties, e.g. leche frye  [compare Old French lechefroie, modern French lèchefrite, dripping-pan] , damask leach, dugard leach, lumbard leach, purple leach, royal leach, etc. dry leach: a sort of cake or gingerbread, containing dates, etc. white leach: a gelatine of almonds.”

I have never come across such a modern usage of the name before, but unless you come up with another theory, I think this must be the explanation.  The word seems to become less common after the end of the seventeenth century, although there are a couple of references to it (spelled as ‘leach’) in the eighteenth and mid-nineteenth centuries. Do you know of any in the late nineteenth century which would fill in the gap? Or is there another explanation of this ‘leek’ altogether?

There are several ‘leches’ on the menu of the coronation of Henry IV in 1399, which featured in a previous blog post HERE.

P.S You can find the archive of recipes for Gingerbread Through The Ages (which needs updating a little) HERE.

Quotation for the Day.

Had I but a penny in the world, thou shouldest have it for gingerbread.

William Shakespeare.

Pineapple Prices.

I cut up a beautiful sweet winter pineapple the other day – it cost me the princely sum of two dollars from the farmers’ market. The bargain was some compensation for the current exorbitant price of bananas, which is due to the devastation wreaked by the dreadful floods and cyclones we have had this year in Queensland.

Early references to the pine-apple can occasionally be confusing, as the same name refers to what we would now call the pine-nut. This is because historically the word ‘apple’ has often been used as a generic word for ‘fruit’, which is also loosely interpreted by non-botanists to include some seeds, vegetables, herbs etc. If the English language had chosen to adapt the name ‘ananas’, this particular culinary history topic would be a little easier to unravel.

One of the earliest descriptions of the pineapple in English occurs in A new account of East-India and Persia (1698) by John Fryer (1698)

Ananas, or Pine-Apple, the most admired for Taste.

The fruit the English call a Pine-apple (the Moors, Ananas) because of the resemblance, cuts within as firm as a Pippin; Seedy, if not fully ripe: the Taste inclinable to Tartness, though most excellently qualified by a dulcid Sapor that imposes upon the Imagination and Gustative Faculty a Fancy that it relishes of any Fruit a Man likes, and some will swear it: It grows on a thick Stalk like an Artichoke, emitting a Tuft of Leafs upon the Crown ; the Leafs a-kin to a Cardms Afininus ( as has been partly related already); the Juice will corrode any Iron or Knife, like Limon.

The fruit is a type of bromeliad, and it is of course a product of the New World, hence unknown in Europe until into the sixteenth century, and little known until into the seventeenth century. They were also extraordinarily expensive until relatively recent times in Britain and Europe, as they require rather more tropical weather than offered by those parts of the world.  Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford mentions in a letter in 1746 having ‘given a guinea for two pine-apples’, which highlights my bargain of 2011 somewhat.

In spite of their expense, English cookery books of the eighteenth century did occasionally feature recipes for pineapples. I give you a method of preserving this rare and exotic fruit whole, from The Lady’s Assistant for Regulating and Supplying the Table, by Charlotte Mason (1787)

Green Pine-apple preserved.

Let it lie in salt and water six days; put it into a saucepan, with some vine-leaves top and bottom, fill up the pan with the salt and water, set it over a flow fire till it becomes green, then put it into a thin cool syrup in a jar, so that it may be covered ; the next day boil the syrup, pour it carefully on, lest the top of the apple should break ; let it stand two months, (observe if the syrup changes in that time, boil it up again two or three times, letting it be cool before it is put to the apple) then boil a rich syrup, with two or three pounds of sugar, according to the size of the apple; boil and scum it, with a little ginger, the outside scraped ; when almost cold, put it to the apple well drained; tie it close down.

Quotation for the Day.

A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit and a violin; what else does a man need to be happy?

Albert Einstein.

Dinner with the Baron.

It is a while since I gave you a French dinner party menu, so today I treat you with the menu for this day, June 15, according to the suggestions of the Barron Brisse. He was, perhaps, the first true newspaper food columnist and he eventually distilled his ideas into a book called 'The 366 Menus and 1200 Recipes of the Baron Brisse.' It was first published in 1866; I am using the 1896 English translation.

June 15.
Macaroni Soup with Parmesan cheese.
Stewed pickled cabbage an oysters.
Calf's ears a l'Italienne.
Roast young rabbits.
Artichokes with butter sauce.
Compote of gooseberries.

Calf's ears a l'Italienne.
Scald, scrape, and drain the ears, place them in a saucepan lined with bacon, cover with slices of bacon, moisten with equal quantities of stock and white wine, add some peeled slices of lemon - be careful there are no pips - a bouquet of mixed herbs, carrots, turnips, and onions, salt and pepper; cook over a slow fire. Make a stuffing with breadcrumbs, milk, and either grated Parmesan or Gruyere cheese; warm until sufficiently thick, stir in four yolks of egg and a lump of butter, fill the calf's ears with this, dip into melted butter, sprinkle with breadcrumbs and grated Parmesan cheese, brown in the oven, and serve.

Compote of red or white gooseberries.
Boil half a pound of sugar to the snap, add a pound of pickled gooseberries, let them boil over two or three times, skin, and pour into a glass dish. Serve when cold.

I do hope, dear readers, that you try the calf's ears; it is so hard to find them done well these days, don't you agree?

I am a little surprised by the Baron choosing two dishes containing Parmesan cheese, plus one with butter sauce, on the same menu, but the French have ever been fearless about their butter and cheese, have they not?

Quotation for the Day .

“If you're afraid of butter, as many people are nowadays, just put in cream!”
Julia Child

More on American Drinks.

My recent post on "American Drinks" has provoked some lively email and blog comments, for which I am most grateful. If I have failed to respond to your particular correspondence, I apologise and will do my best to follow-up soon, but I am temporarily delightfully distracted by my English visitors.

The source from that post was A philosophical and statistical history of the inventions and customs of ancient and modern nations in the manufacture and use of inebriating liquors ... (Samuel Morewood, 1838), and I wondered what it had to say about American drinks. It turns out to have quite a lot to say, but I have selected the following short section for two reasons - I am intrigued by the 'persimmon apple' (is it a persimmon, or a variety of apple?), and by the method of making of the 'palatable liquor' with this fruit by first forming it into cakes with wheat. All comments, further information, insights or theories will be received with interest.

"... from the persimon apple a valuable spirit is made by putting a quantity of the fruit into a vessel for a week until it becomes quite soft. Water is then poured in and left for fermentation, without the addition of any other ingredient to promote it. The brandy is then made in the common way, and it is said to be much improved when mixed with sweet grapes that are found wild in the woods.
Another kind of palatable liquor is procured from this apple. The ripe fruit is braised and mixed with wheat or other flour, and formed into cakes which are baked in an oven. These are afterwards placed over the fire in a pot full of water, and when they become blended with the fluid, malt is added, and the brewing completed in the usual manner: thas is produced a beer preferable to most others.
In all the States, apples are abundant, particularly in New England and New York, and therefore cider is the common drink of the inhabitants. In a fruitful year, apples are so plentiful as to be given to whoever will take the trouble to gather them.' Vast quantities are also consumed by cattle and swine. The cider, when well made, is of excellent quality, and the least juicy apples afford the best liquor. A barrel of cider sells from about one and a half to three dollars. A field containing a thousand trees is not uncommon, and a single tree has been known to produce six barrels of cider in one season,—a circumstance the more extraordinary when it takes three barrels of apples to make one of cider. Mr. Stuart, a late writer, says that much cider is made from the crab-apple, which is worth about six-pence per bushel ; but that a considerable quantity of engrafted fruit is usually mixed with it. This liquor, he adds, is for the most part generally inferior to English cider. The Shakers, a religious sect, have two establishments in the State of New York, at which they manufacture cider of an excellent quality, which sells so high as ten dollars per barrel."

For the recipe for the dayI give you an apple cake from the wonderful Eliza Acton. I feel sure that some copies of Modern Cookery in All its Branches (1845) would have been lurking around in the old colony, and perhaps helped to find uses for that great supply of apples.

Apple Cake or German Tart.
Work together with the fingers ten ounces of butter and a pound of flour, until they resemble fine crumbs of bread ; throw in a smalt pinch of salt, and make them into a firm smooth paste with the yolks of two eggs and a spoonful or two of water. Butter thickly a plain tin cake, or pie mould (those which open at the sides are best adapted for the purpose); roll out the paste thin, place the mould upon it, trim a bit to its exact size, cover the bottom of the mould with this, then cut a band the height of the sides, and press it smoothly round them, joining the edge, which must be moistened with egg or water, to the bottom crust; and fasten upon them, to prevent their separation, a narrow and thin band of paste, also moistened. Next, fill the mould nearly from the brim with the following marmalade, which must be quite cold when it is put in. Boil together, over a gentle fire at first, but more quickly afterwards, three pounds of good apples with fourteen ounces of pounded sugar, or of the finest Lisbon, the strained juice of a large lemon, three ounces of the best butter, and a teaspoonful of pounded cinnamon, or the lightly grated rind of a couple of lemons: when the whole is'perfectly smooth and dry, turn it into a pan to cool, and let it be quite cold before it is put into the paste. In early autumn, a larger proportion of sugar may be required, but this can be regulated by the taste. When the mould is filled, roll out the cover, lay it carefully over the marmalade that it may not touch it; and when the cake is securely closed, trim off the superfluous paste, add a little pounded sugar to the parings, spread them out very thin, and cut them into leaves to ornament the top of the cake, round which they may be placed as a sort of wreath.* Bake it for an hour in a moderately brisk oven; take it from the mould, and should the sides not be sufficiently coloured, put it back for a few minutes into the oven upon a baking tin. Lay a paper over the top, when it is of a fine light brown, to prevent its being too deeply coloured. This cake should be served hot.
Paste: flour, 1 lb.; butter, 10 ozs.; yolks of eggs, 2; little water. Marmalade: apples, 3 lbs.; sugar, 14 ozs. (more if needed); juice of lemon, 1; rinds of lemons, 2: butter, 3 ozs.: baked, 1 hour.

Quotation for the Day.

There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.
William Shakespeare

Right Royal Recipes.

Public holidays are a sacred element of Australian culture, and even the most ardent republican does not refuse to stay away from work on this day - the official Queens's Birthay holiday - in this old colonial outpost.

In honour therefore of my English heritage, my English visitors, and HRH herself, I give you a smattering of 'royal' recipes from Cassell's Dictionary of Cookery (1870's). Then I will be off taking the English visitors out on a day trip to the rainforest.

Royal Children's Puddings.
Slice a penny loaf, and pour upon it a pint and a half of boiling milk. Let is stand till soft, then beat it lightly with a fork, and add a heaped tablespoonful of moist sugar, a little grated nutmeg or any other flavouring, and four well-beaten eggs. Half fill some snail buttered teacups with the mixture, and bake the puddings in a well-heated oven. If liked, a slice of butter may be added, but its absence will make the puddings more digestible.

Royal Fritters.
Put a pint of new milk into a saucepan over the fire, and as it rises in the pan stir into it half a pint of light wine. Pour it out, and let it stand a few minutes to cool. Skim off the curd, and put it into a basin. Beat it well with two tablespoonfuls of sugar, a little grated lemon rind or other flavoring, three well-whisked eggs, and as much flour as will make a stiff batter. Fry the fritters in the usual way. Drain them well, and serve on a hot dish. Send cut lemons to table with the fritters.

Royal Punch (to be served hot)
Put a quarter of a pound of doubly-refined sugar in large lumps into a bowl, and with it two limes and a thin slice of fresh lemon. With a bruiser rub the sugar and the fruit well together, then mix thoroughly with two glassfuls of calf's foot jelly in a hot state. Take brandy, rum, arrack, and curaçao in equal quantities, and stir them into the preparation. When thoroughly mixed, add a pint of boiling green tea, and serve hot. The quantity of the spirit must be regulated by taste; half a pint of each will generally be found sufficient.

Royal Sauce for Turkeys and Fowls.
Take the breast of a cold roast fowl, free it from skin, and pound it to a paste in a mortar with a slice of bread which has been soaked in milk and squeezed dry. Add as much white stock as will make the paste smooth and of the consistency of custard, and seasoning of pepper and salt, and simmer the sauce over a gentle fire. Let it cool, stir into it the yolks of two eggs which have been beaten up with half a cupful of cream, and stir the sauce again over the fire, but do not allow it to boil after the eggs are added. If liked, this sauce may be flavoured with five or six blanched and pounded almonds.

Quotation for the Day.

There is nothing to which men, while they have food and drink, cannot reconcile themselves.
George Santayana (1863-1952

American Drinks.

I have appreciated the versatility of the sweet potato for some time, but had not heard of an interesting beverage made with it until recently. It is called 'mobby', and was apparently a popular drink in seventeenth century Barbados. Mention of it is made in Letters and papers of the Verney family down to the end of the year 1639. Just to clear up any potential confusion - at this time and place 'potatoes' meant 'sweet potatoes. I give you the relevant extract, which also provides one of our recipes for the day.

"The next is your potatoes, which is very nourishing and comfortable. It is the best provision we have in the land, both for our selves and servants, but chiefly for them, for they will not desire, after one month or two, noe other provision but potatoes boyled, and mobby to drink with them; and this as we call mobby is only potatoes boyled, and then pressed as hard as they can till all the juce is gon out of the root into fayre water, and after three houres this is good drink. Soe we brue in the morning to drink att noon, and att noon to drink att night, and so everyday in the year."

References to mobby in other sources mention that other flavourings such as lemon were sometimes added, and in some places the preference was for a slightly fermented version, which sounds interesting.

Mobby is almost always referred to as 'An American Drink' in dictionaries and other sources, which makes sense, given the history of the sweet potato. The idea of 'American drinks' rang a bell for me, and led me off on a tangent that I hope you will give you some fun, and will inspire some theories from you. I recalled that the very Victorian English cookery book that is a longstanding favourite of mine had some recipes for 'American Drinks'. Here they are, from Cassell's Dictionary of Cookery (1870's)
- please tell me what you think is quintessentially American about them!

Ching-ching (an American drink)
Put three ounces of peppermint, three or four drops of the essence of cloves, a sliced orange, a dessert-spoonful of sifted loaf sugar, and two table-spoonfuls of pounded ice into a large tumbler. Mix with a quarter of a pint of rum, stir the mixture for a minute or two, and drink it through a straw.

Locofoco Drink.
This is one of the drinks peculiar to America. Whisk the yolks of two fresh eggs for three or four minutes, add a little grated nutmeg, an ounce of honey, and a small glass of curacoa, and beat all together until thoroughly mixed. Add a pint of heated burgundy, and serve in glasses.

Quotation for the Day.

Among the expected glories of the Constitution, next to the abolition of Slavery was that of Rum.
George Clymer

Dictionary Decisions

I hope soon to resume slightly more organised blogging time - my computer is home, bright new hard drive installed, and now is slowly having all its content restored. You don't know how much 'stuff' you have, until you start to restore it. A bit like unpacking after a house move, I suppose.

Speaking of house moves, I still dont have bookshelves so most of my books are in heaps here, there, and everywhere, which makes it quite hard to find the one I want. I have discovered one of my favourites however, so it is the source for the day. I do have a particular fondness for dictionary-type books, including culinary books, because they create the illusion that it will be easy to find what one wants. I say illusion, because for reasons known only to the un-identified editor of Cassell's Dictionary of Cookery (circa 1870), there is some potato and pudding confusion.

Under "P" for potatoes we have:

Potato and Almond Pudding.
Mash six ounces of boiled potatoes, dry and floury, till they are perfectly smooth. Blanch three ounces of sweet almonds and four bitter ones, and pound them, but not finely, with a little orange-flower water. Let them simmer in half a pint of new milk until the flavour is drawn out, and dissolve in the milk four ounces of fresh butter and four ounces of powdered sugar. Stir the mixture into the potatoes, add a pinch of salt, a little grated nutmeg, and the rind and juice of half a lemon. Beat the pudding ill it is light and smooth, and add separately the yolks and well-whisked whites of five eggs. Line a pie-dish with puff-paste, and pour in the mixture. Chop half a dozen almonds rather coarsely, strew them over the pudding, and bake in a well-heated oven for one hour.

Under "A" for Almonds we have:

Almond and Potato Pudding.
Blanch and pound three ounces of sweet almond and our or five bitter ones. Put these into half a pint of milk, and allow them to simmer slowly for quarter of an hour. Mix in smoothly half a pound of cold mealy potatoes, a quarter of a pound of butter, the grated rind and juice of a lemon, a little nutmeg, and three well-beaten eggs. Beat the mixture for some minutes with a wooden spoon. Put it into a well-buttered mould, and bake in a quick oven. Turn out carefully, and serve with sifted sugar or almond sauce.

Which one will you make?

Quotation for the Day.
“Pray for peace and grace and spiritual food,
For wisdom and guidance, for all these are good,
but don't forget the potatoes.”
John Tyler Pettee, 'Prayer and Potatoes'

Sporks and Forks.

I am not too sure how I feel about sporks. You know what they are, I am sure: an eating utensil that combines the features and functions of both a spoon and a fork, specifically designed for those occasions when one hand is required to hold a plate. The only time that I can see that this is absolutely necessary is when one is required to eat standing up, away from a table-like surface, which is not something I choose to do. I prefer to be sitting comfortably when I eat. And in any case, no matter how efficiently the spork enables one to wander around while one eats, it does not free up a hand for a glass of wine, so what is the point?

The word 'spork' appeared first in 1909, in a dictionary supplement, but a utensil combining the functionality of the spoon, fork and knife was first patented in 1874, by Samuel W. Francis. Patents for other 'cutting spoons' followed over the next few decades, and indeed, variations on the theme continue to pop up, whether we need them or not.

'Fork suppers' and 'fork luncheons' were fashionable iin the 1930's, and The Times of London had some suggestions and recipes for them in an article on Meals in the Garden, in August 1938.

Mayonnaise of Turbot.
Flake about 1 1/2 lb of cold boiled turbot; add a little chopped tarragon and chervil, pour over 1 1/2 tablespoonfuls of vinaigrette dressing: 2 parts oil, one part vinegar, salt and pepper. Leave to stand for ten minutes. Meanwhile coarsely shred the hearts of two or three lettuces. Put the shredded lettuce in a deep dish; sprinkle with dressing and cover with turbot. Mask completely with mayonnaise, spread this with a palette knife. Trim with a trellis of anchovy fillets, border with quarters of hard-boiled eggs, sliced tomatoes, and gherkins cut fan-shaped; top with an olive. Sprinkle all over with parsley.

Quotation for the Day.

Is it progress if a cannibal uses a knife and fork?
Stanislaw Lee.

Gofers, Gaufres, and Gophers

I came across a reference to 'gofers' while I was preparing my recent post on teacakes, and was intrigued by this new/old word. It must have already been an old word in 1846, or presumably it would not have found its way into 'A dictionary of archaic and provincial words, obsolete phrases' which was published in that year. This dictionary defines a gofer as 'A species of tea-cake of an oblong form, made of flour, milk, eggs, and currants, baked on an iron made expressly for the purpose, called a gofering iron, and divided into square compartments.'

Leaving aside such complexities as how a hot iron with square compartments can make oblong tea-cakes, I found this an interesting idea. The Oxford English Dictionary was my next step, and, as I hoped, it nicely solved the etymological puzzle with its description alone - no need to go to the detailed explanation of the derivation of the word itself. The OED says that a gofer is ' A thin batter-cake on which a honeycomb pattern is stamped by the iron plates between which it is baked'. A 'tea-cake' always suggests to me a rather more substantial article that this description, which, I am sure you will agree, sounds more like a wafer. And of course, that is what it is - a gaufre adopted by the English.

Mrs Raffald gives the first recipe in The Experienced English Housekeeper (1769), if the OED is correct, and here it is:

To make Gofers.
Beat three Eggs well, with three Spoonful of Flour, and a little Salt, then mix them with a Pint of Milk, and an Ounce of Sugar, half a Nutmeg grated, beat them well together, then make your Gofer Tongs hot, rub them with fresh Butter, fill the Bottom part of your Tongs and clap the Top upon, then turn them, and when a fine brown on both Sides, put them in a Dish, and pour white Wine Sauce over them, five is enough for a Dish, don't lay them one upon another, it will make them soft.—You may put in Currants if you please.

I have not been able to perform an exhaustive study of the history of gaufres as my computer is still indisposed (but due home today) and many of my books still unpacked awaiting bookshelves, but presumably it was the English who added the currants - for what is an English tea-cake without currants? They also may be responsible for changing its nature, in some instances, from the 'melt-in-the mouth kind of pastry' mentioned in another dictionary to 'tea-cakes of the muffin sort, square, and stamped like net-work with the ‘gaufering-iron'. Note the addition of yeast in the following version, from 'The Practical Cook, English and Foreign', by Joseph Bregion and Anne Miller (1845)

Gofers.
Take a pint and a half of new milk, two ounces of butter, eight tea-spoonfuls of flour, half a teaspoonful of yeast, a quarter of a pound of fine sugar, and a quarter of a pound of currants; let the mixture stand to make it light before you bake it; rub your irons every time with a piece of fresh butter tied up in a cloth. Some think eggs preferable to yeast.

Mis-hearing, mis-pronunciation, spelling confusion, and an overwhelming urge to be ridiculous (on this writer's part) may also lead us to gophers of the rodent variety [see the comments- my error: this almost certainly reefs to the gopher tortoise. Still fun though!]. With absolutely no apologies to those of you in a rather more serious mood this morning, I offer you gopher stew, from 'Family Living on $500 a Year' (1888) by Juliet Corson. The recipe is given as a variation of stewed terrapin.

Stewed Terrapin [or gopher]
To stew terrapin in the old Virginia style, boil it and remove it from the shell, as directed above; to each pint of the dressed terrapin, add the ingredients specified below and show all together gently for twenty minutes: the yolks of eight hard-boiled eggs, rubbed through a sieve with a potato masher, half a pint of cream, a quarter of a pound of butter, a tablespoonful of dry flour, and a gill or two of Madeira; season the terrapin palatably with salt and pepper, stew it gently and serve it hot. Gophers are cooked in South Carolina by first dressing them according to the above directions: for each gopher allow a quarter of a pound of butter; in this fry a level tablespoon of grated onion then a tablespoonful of flour, half a pint of Madeira or sherry, the gopher meat, and high season with Cayenne pepper, shalt and pepper, and powdered mace, as soon as the gopher is tender, serve it hot.

Quotation for the Day.

Waffles are like pancakes with syrup traps"
Mitch Hedberg

More Cookery for Maids of All Work.

I hope by today to have my computer back, but it will take some time to get all my "stuff" restored, so in the meanwhile I will give you some more delightful hints from a source already to hand from Friday's story - Cookery for Maids of All Work (London, 1856)

Firstly, how to equip your kitchen in 1856?

THINGS ABSOLUTELY REQUISITE FOR A KITCHEN,WITHOUT WHICH IT IS NOT SO EASY TO COOK WITH METHOD, AND WITH BUT LITTLE TROUBLE.
Two wooden spoons, costing 2d. and 4d.; perforated tin strainer, 9d.; a whisk, 9d.;' scales and weights, 14s.; fish kettle with strainer, 4s. 6d. to 6s. 6d.; a wooden bowl and half circular chopper, 2s. 6d. Of course, all other implements and utensils for cooking are supposed to be in the kitchen for use.

Now, the hint of the day:

To Scrub Rooms.
Never scrub rooms with soap, the grease gets into the roughness of the boards; they always look dirty. Use soda and hot water, with a cocoa-nut fibre brush; scrub the way of the grain of the boards. In cleaning paint, rub the way of the brush marks in the paint; use a very little soda, no soap, and wipe very dry each panel at a time.

And, of course, we need a recipe for the day. It wasn't all stodge and grease in the English Victorian kitchen you know. Here are a couple of interesting ideas for your next nineteenth century themed dinner party - or your twenty-first century one for that matter.

Fennel Sauce [to serve with boiled mackerel]
Make this by throwing into boiling water with a little salt, a handful of fennel free from hard stems; after it boils reckon eight to ten minutes, according to its being old or young; then strain and chop finely; put it to melted butter; beat up well; or parsley and butter is excellent; the parsley free from stem, thrown into boiling water, with a little salt; after it boils, reckon two minutes; chop finely, and put to melted butter; one ounce of butter to a sauce-boat full.

Celery Essence.
Put two ounces of celery seed into three ounces of strong spirits of wine; in a week it will be fit for use and will save the use of celery altogether.

Quotation for the Day

“There ought t'be some way t'eat celery so it wouldn't sound like you wuz steppin' on a basket.”
Frank McKinney (Kin) Hubbard (1868-1930

Cookery for the Maid of all Work.

Day seven without a computer, but life and my iPad go on as if all is right with the world. Today I make it easy for myself by letting my chosen text do most of the talking. The title is what made it my choice for the day - Cookery for Maids of All Work (London, 1856)

The title page sums up the attitudinal expectations:

A GOOD SERVANT WILL NOT REPLY TO A MISTRESS, NOR
LISTEN TO EVIL THINGS SAID OF HER.
SAUCY ANSWERS DO NO GOOD.
LET SILENCE BE THE BEST ANSWER A SERVANT CAN MAKE.
UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES NEVER UTTER AN UNTRUTH.
BE HONEST IN DEED, BE HONEST IN WORD.
DRESS ACCORDING TO PLACE, AND AS THE FUTURE WIFE OF AN
HONEST WORKING MAN SHOULD DO.

The preface goes into detail as to the specific chores, after delivering the following address:

ADDRESS.
Much of the comfort of numerous households depends upon that very useful person, the "Maid of All Work." Yet she is generally found to be totally unfitted for her situation both by education and habit. Being early sent from home to gain her own living, she first of all gets a place to drag children about, then as time goes on, to help a little in the house, then to do a little washing—to cook after a fashion—and she then begins to look out for a better place, asking high wages, and professing to be a good plain cook, though she does not even know what it means, never imagining it is to cook a plain joint and vegetables well, and as well as the first cooks in the land can do it. Thus she disappoints her mistress ; but if that mistress would enquire previous to engagement how the intended servant cooked any articles of food, such as to fry fish, or to boil a leg of mutton, there would be much less disappointment; as a mistress must know that if a servant cannot clearly describe in what manner she would set about cooking a particular article, neither can she perform it. Cookery is no random art to be acquired by guessing, and though its rules are simple, they must be rigidly followed.

Now: back to the 21st century: You may think you operate as the maid of all work in your own home, especially if you are the mother of small children, but be thankful that there are some chores that are no longer on today's list - such as the following, for example:

Table Salt [How to prepare for the table]
Dry two lumps of salt, grate one against the other into a hair sieve, then sift. To divide large pieces of salt, take a kitchen knife, and hammer or poker, place the knife across as if to divide, hammer the knife into the salt, it will then fall into pieces.

For today's recipe, I give you, from the book, a recipe for sausages from scratch, but without the skins.

To Make Sausages Without Skin.
Chop very finely any cold or raw meat with a little of the fat; add one-third of sifted bread crumbs; mix separately equal portions of salt, pepper, and dried sifted sage, with a little ground allspice; mix this with the meat. Obtain a funnel, with the end, or pipe, nearly as large round as an egg-cup, and of a finger's length (a funnel can be made of this size for one shilling, and is very useful for filling tea or coffee canisters); dip this end in flour, also flour a plate; push the meat very hard through the funnel on to the plate; roll the rolls of meat well in flour (all this should be prepared the day before wanted). Have ready a small frying pan of boiling dripping or lard ; beat up an egg white and yolk, with a spoon baste the rolls with the egg; take them up with an egg-slice, place them in boiling fat, and well brown; drain them dry from fat; have ready some toast, either dry or buttered on one side; cut to the size of the sausages, serve them on this with sprigs of parsley round.

Quotation for the Day.

Laws are like sausages. It's better not to see how they are made.
Otto Von Bismarck (1815-1898

Cookery for One.

With increasing numbers of households (especially in urban areas) consisting of one person, I am surprised that there is a dearth of interesting books catering to the solo cook-eater. Most of those that I have come across belong to one of types - either the 'grill one chicken breast and serve with salad' or the 'cook the following, divide into four containers and freeze three of them for later' type. As I said, not very interesting.

Living alone was an extraordinarily unusual situation in past times, so inspiration for the solo cook is unlikely to be found in old cookery books, isn't it? I decided to test the idea.

I think the theory held up well. I gave up looking, in the end. About all I found were the following recipes - and, frankly, the batch of oyster soup recipes require some determined advance stock-making, so I am not sure they would qualify in most folks' minds. I guess freezing individual portions of stock would work though, wouldn't it?

Ardrishaig Savoury (for one person)
1 slice of square pan loaf, toasted and buttered; 1 tablespoonful grated cheese; 1 salt spoonful mustard; pepper, 1/2 oz butter; 1 dessertspoonful milk; 1 poached egg.
Place poached egg on centre of toast. Heat butter and milk in stew-pan. Mix cheese, mustard, and pepper, and stir quickly into the butter and milk. Place round poached egg on toast and serve hot. Garnish with parsley.
The Practical Daily Menu, C.B. Peacock (1927)

Oyster Soups.—(Each of the following is calculated for one person).
(a). The English Soup.—Take one pound of good lean beef, half a pound of raw lean ham, much parsley, and carrot roots, and a few onions ; cut all in very small pieces, and burnish it into a dark-brownish colour with spices, bay-leaves, whole pepper and butter: after having boiled this with water for five hours, pour it through a hair sieve, and then put to it a little brown flour, and two ounces of Sherry or Madeira, and after having boiled again for an hour, take all the fat clean off, and put into it the oysters with their beards and liquor, and with cayenne pepper; all this is to be boiled up again, and then served. This soup is to be recommended, especially in winter when it is very cold. For invalids, the wine, spices, and pepper are omitted. This soup is valuable for convalescents, being very strengthening and nourishing.
(b). The American Soup.—Take half a pint of good fresh milk, or cream if possible ; three ounces of good butter; boil this together, beat it up with the yolks of three eggs, and put into it six or twelve oysters with their beards and liquor; boil this up again, and in serving it up put into it a little cayenne pepper and a few drops of lemon juice. This soup is delicate ; but no prejudice ! Everybody must try it first. For invalids, butter, eggs, and pepper are omitted.
(c). The Holstein Soup.—Take good beef-stock, one-eighth of a pound of Sherry or Madeira, burnt flour, and proceed as with (a) ; and then beat it up with the yolks of two or three eggs. (The beard and the liquor must always be made use of, as they impart the strongest flavour of the oyster.)
The Oyster: where, how, and when to find, breed, cook, and eat it; Herbert Byng Hall (1861)

Quotation for the Day.

“You will never get out of pot or pan anything fundamentally better than what went into it. Cooking is not alchemy; there is no magic in the pot.”
'Dishes & Beverages Of The Old South' Martha McCulloch-Williams (1913)

Menu, June 1, 1918

I have another menu for you today - from wartime USA this time. The book is Daily Menus for War Service, by Thetta Quay Franks. The menu and recipe ideas were designed around the specified voluntary 'meatless' and 'wheatless' days. Information on portion size, and approximate calories were also given for each dish, and allowance made for the scheduling of dinner at the middle or end of the day, by referring to the third main meal as 'luncheon or supper.'

The breakfast menus for each day were actually provided at the end of the preceding day's suggestions, so that preparations could be made in advance.

There were three suggested menus for dinner and luncheon, and two for breakfast each day. I give you my choices for Sunday, June 1, 1918:

Breakfast:
Bananas
Hominy
Cream (thin)
Sugar (powdered) or maple sugar
Coffee
Hot milk
Sugar (loaf)
Potato bread
Butter or nut margarine.

Luncheon or Supper.
Broiled chicken
Potato chips
Spinach
Lettuce with French dressing
Potato bread
Butter or nutmargarine
Coffee Jelly
Soft custard sauce
Pecan cakes.

Dinner.
Cherries
Roast beef
Mushroom sauce
Riced potatoes
Celery
Ripe Olives
Peas
Cauliflower
Potato bread or rolls
Strawberry Parfait
Honey cake, marshmallow filling.

The recipe for the day is:

Pecan Cakes (Emer.Com. Home Economics Association.)
2 eggs, 1/2 cup molasses, 1/2 cup corn sirup, 1/4 teaspoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1 cup chopped pecans, 1/4 cup flour, baking powder, and salt, and stir these ingredients into the first mixture. Add the chopped nuts and fill shallow, individual, greased tins half full of the mixture. Place a nut in the center of each cake and bake them in a quick oven for 15 minuts, reducing the heat after they have baked 15 minutes [an error, it seems?] This recipe will yield 24 cakes.