I have just updated the Recipe Archive to the end of June 2007. To my utter amazement, there are 764 historic recipes there! I had no idea that they had piled up so quickly.
The archive is HERE, if you want to look.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
The Many Uses of Malt.
Today, July 6thThe Horlick brothers' new product - a malted milk drink- was finally released on this day in 1886. The English brothers migrated to America and created a product that would ultimately find its biggest market in India, which proves that the Internet is not solely responsible for globalisation. The product was the result of the brothers’ efforts to find a way to make milk easier to digest, or so the traditional story goes. Horlicks is value-added milk, essentially. Calorie added, calcium added, and flavour added.
What is this thing called Malt? It is ‘barley or other grain prepared for brewing, distilling, or vinegar-making, esp. by steeping, germinating, and kiln-drying.’ These malted cereals are then use to manufacture a whole range of things which enhance our lives: about 96% of all of the malt produced in the world goes to make beer; about 3% to produce malt whisky, and an infinitesimal (but significant) amount to make Maltesers™. The rest goes into such things as malted milk drinks (which are value-added milkshakes, essentially), Chocolate Malted Milk Cake (if you are very lucky), and (especially if you are English) - Malt Loaf.
A large part of the marketing of ‘malted’ products focussed on the supposed health benefits of malt (taking it for medicinal reasons is many a beer-drinker’s excuse, methinks). There are medicinal preparations containing malt which also contain other supplements, which explains the warning in the following recipe. It is from The Times, in 1977. Take heed of the warning, unless you don’t mind your fruit loaf tasting fishy.
Malt Bread.
You can buy malt extract from a chemist – make sure you get malt extract and not the malt and cod-liver oil mixture.
Makes 1 large loaf.
12 oz self raising flour.
½ level teaspoon salt
2 oz castor sugar
4 oz sultanas
2 rounded tablespoons malt extract
1 rounded tablespoon black treacle
½ pint milk
Sift the flour and salt into a mixing basin. Add the sugar and sultanas. Measure the malt extract, treacle and milk into a saucepan and warm over low heat stirring to blend them together. Pour into the dry ingredients and mix very thoroughly.
Pour the mixture into a well buttered 2 lb loaf tin and bake in the centre of a moderate oven (350 deg F or gas 4) for 1 ¼ hours. Loosen sides and turn out. While the loaf is warm from the oven, brush with a hot glaze made by boiling together for one minute one tablespoon each of castor sugar, milk and water – this gives the malt bread a shiny top. Allow to cool.
If you have a favourite Malt recipe, I'd love to hear it.
Monday’s Story …
Tripe, Glasgow Style.
Quotation for the Day …
The powder is mixed with water and tastes exactly like powder mixed with water. Art Buchwald -On liquid diets.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Lobster, two cents apiece.
Today, July 5th
Sometimes, to read old journals is to weep. Henry D. Thoreau made a small aside in his diary on this day in 1855 to the effect that “The fishermen sell lobsters fresh for two cents apiece.”
The OED says that lobster is “a large marine stalk-eyed ten-footed long-tailed crustacean of the genus Homarus, much used for food; it is greenish or bluish when raw, and of a brilliant red when boiled: the first pair of feet are very large and form the characteristic 'claws'.”
I dont know how often definitions in the OED are updated, but “much used for food” hardly seems to be true today when they cost significantly more than two cents each. At two cents apiece they were spectacularly good value when you consider that they seem to have been a whole lot larger 150 years ago. When was the last time you even heard of a 28 pound lobster?
A book written by a butcher called Thomas F. De Voe called 'The Market Assistant, Containing a Brief Description of Every Article of Human Food Sold in the Public Markets of the Cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn' in 1867 has this to say about those ho-hum, almost too-well known, almost too-common hefty crustaceans:
Lobsters. These shell-fish are too well known to need description, as they are usually found in great plenty in our markets in all months of the year, except December, January, and February. They are, however, better in some of the months than others; that is, the female or hen lobster is generally preferred through the summer months -- especially June and July -- and the male, or "ram" lobster in the winter months, when found. The latter is distinguished from the hen not only for its want of eggs under the flap, or tail, but by the longer and narrower back, running quite to the tail and including the fan or fins. When the eggs, or berries, of the female are large and quite brown, the lobster will be found exhausted, watery, and quite poor. The largest are not always the best, but those ranging from four to six pounds in weight, when fat, are the choice and most delicate.
A very fine variety called blue-backs, with quite thin shells, brought from the coast about Cape Cod, in the months of May and June, are sought after by the lobster epicure. The average weight is usually from two to four pounds, although I have heard of their weighing above twenty. I am told that one was sold in Fulton Market, several years ago, of twenty-eight pounds!! The female seldom weighs above eight pounds. When fresh they are always lively, and the tail will spring strongly back under them when lifted from the stands. Many are found cooked in some of the markets, more particularly the Fulton, of New York, and Faneuil Hall, of Boston, who send them all over the country. The whole lobster is good to eat, except the shell and craw, or stomach, which lies between the eyes.
Professor Kalm, in his travels here in 1748, speaks of lobsters as being "plentifully caught hereabouts," and further says: "I was told of a very remarkable circumstance about these lobsters, and I have afterwards frequently heard it mentioned. The coast of New York had already European inhabitants, for a considerable time, yet no lobsters being in this part of the sea, they were therefore continually brought in great well-boats from New England, where they are plentiful; but it happened that one of these well-boats broke in pieces near Hell-gate, about ten English miles from New York, and all the lobsters in it got off. Since that time they have so multiplied in this part of the sea that they are now caught in the greatest abundance." The Gazette, etc., September 11th, 1766, says: "A live lobster, which weighed thirteen pounds and a quarter, was sold (in the previous month of July) at Billingsgate Market Garden (London) for twenty-four shillings (at New York, in 1765, one of eighteen pounds sold for two shillings and sixpence)." Some considerable difference in the weight and price.
Small wonder that lobster recipes were so abundant in cookbooks of Thoreau's time. Lobster leftovers were all likelihood a real problem. If you happen to be faced with that problem yourself, you could use it in this recipe:
Lobster Patties:
Make some puff-paste, and spread it on very deep patty pans. Bake it empty. Having boiled well two or three fine lobsters, extract all their meta, and mince it very small, mixing it with the coral smoothly mashed, and some yolk of hard-boiled egg, grated, add a little yellow lemon rind, grated. Moisten the mixture well with cream, or fresh butter, or salad oil. Put it into a stew-pan; add very little water, and let it stew till it just comes to a boil. Take it off the fire, and the patties being baked, remove them from the tin pans, place them on a large dish, and fill them up to the top with the mixture.
Similar patties may be made of prawns, or crabs.
[The Lady's Receipt Book .... Miss Leslie; 1847]
Tomorrow's Story ...
The Many Uses of Malt.
Quotation for the Day ...
In the light of what Proust wrote with so mild a stimulus, it is the world's loss that he did not have a heartier appetite. On a dozen Gardiner's Island oysters, a bowl of clam chowder, a peck of steamers, some bay scallops, three sauteed soft-shelled crabs, a few ears of freshly picked corn, a thin swordfish steak of generous area, a pair of lobsters, and a Long Island Duck, he might have written a masterpiece. A.J. Liebling.
Sometimes, to read old journals is to weep. Henry D. Thoreau made a small aside in his diary on this day in 1855 to the effect that “The fishermen sell lobsters fresh for two cents apiece.”
The OED says that lobster is “a large marine stalk-eyed ten-footed long-tailed crustacean of the genus Homarus, much used for food; it is greenish or bluish when raw, and of a brilliant red when boiled: the first pair of feet are very large and form the characteristic 'claws'.”
I dont know how often definitions in the OED are updated, but “much used for food” hardly seems to be true today when they cost significantly more than two cents each. At two cents apiece they were spectacularly good value when you consider that they seem to have been a whole lot larger 150 years ago. When was the last time you even heard of a 28 pound lobster?
A book written by a butcher called Thomas F. De Voe called 'The Market Assistant, Containing a Brief Description of Every Article of Human Food Sold in the Public Markets of the Cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn' in 1867 has this to say about those ho-hum, almost too-well known, almost too-common hefty crustaceans:
Lobsters. These shell-fish are too well known to need description, as they are usually found in great plenty in our markets in all months of the year, except December, January, and February. They are, however, better in some of the months than others; that is, the female or hen lobster is generally preferred through the summer months -- especially June and July -- and the male, or "ram" lobster in the winter months, when found. The latter is distinguished from the hen not only for its want of eggs under the flap, or tail, but by the longer and narrower back, running quite to the tail and including the fan or fins. When the eggs, or berries, of the female are large and quite brown, the lobster will be found exhausted, watery, and quite poor. The largest are not always the best, but those ranging from four to six pounds in weight, when fat, are the choice and most delicate.
A very fine variety called blue-backs, with quite thin shells, brought from the coast about Cape Cod, in the months of May and June, are sought after by the lobster epicure. The average weight is usually from two to four pounds, although I have heard of their weighing above twenty. I am told that one was sold in Fulton Market, several years ago, of twenty-eight pounds!! The female seldom weighs above eight pounds. When fresh they are always lively, and the tail will spring strongly back under them when lifted from the stands. Many are found cooked in some of the markets, more particularly the Fulton, of New York, and Faneuil Hall, of Boston, who send them all over the country. The whole lobster is good to eat, except the shell and craw, or stomach, which lies between the eyes.
Professor Kalm, in his travels here in 1748, speaks of lobsters as being "plentifully caught hereabouts," and further says: "I was told of a very remarkable circumstance about these lobsters, and I have afterwards frequently heard it mentioned. The coast of New York had already European inhabitants, for a considerable time, yet no lobsters being in this part of the sea, they were therefore continually brought in great well-boats from New England, where they are plentiful; but it happened that one of these well-boats broke in pieces near Hell-gate, about ten English miles from New York, and all the lobsters in it got off. Since that time they have so multiplied in this part of the sea that they are now caught in the greatest abundance." The Gazette, etc., September 11th, 1766, says: "A live lobster, which weighed thirteen pounds and a quarter, was sold (in the previous month of July) at Billingsgate Market Garden (London) for twenty-four shillings (at New York, in 1765, one of eighteen pounds sold for two shillings and sixpence)." Some considerable difference in the weight and price.
Small wonder that lobster recipes were so abundant in cookbooks of Thoreau's time. Lobster leftovers were all likelihood a real problem. If you happen to be faced with that problem yourself, you could use it in this recipe:
Lobster Patties:
Make some puff-paste, and spread it on very deep patty pans. Bake it empty. Having boiled well two or three fine lobsters, extract all their meta, and mince it very small, mixing it with the coral smoothly mashed, and some yolk of hard-boiled egg, grated, add a little yellow lemon rind, grated. Moisten the mixture well with cream, or fresh butter, or salad oil. Put it into a stew-pan; add very little water, and let it stew till it just comes to a boil. Take it off the fire, and the patties being baked, remove them from the tin pans, place them on a large dish, and fill them up to the top with the mixture.
Similar patties may be made of prawns, or crabs.
[The Lady's Receipt Book .... Miss Leslie; 1847]
Tomorrow's Story ...
The Many Uses of Malt.
Quotation for the Day ...
In the light of what Proust wrote with so mild a stimulus, it is the world's loss that he did not have a heartier appetite. On a dozen Gardiner's Island oysters, a bowl of clam chowder, a peck of steamers, some bay scallops, three sauteed soft-shelled crabs, a few ears of freshly picked corn, a thin swordfish steak of generous area, a pair of lobsters, and a Long Island Duck, he might have written a masterpiece. A.J. Liebling.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Humble Gleaners.
Today, July 4th
Today being The Fourth of July, for no particular reason other than I find its title oddly appealing, I decided to feature a little community cookbook compiled by the Ladies’ Aid Society of the First Congregational Church of Oakland, California in 1883.
The book is called “Still another," a book of choice recipes, and it is a collection of ‘favourite cooking recipes of those ladies of our Society who have long been recognized as authorities amongst us in all matters connected with housekeeping.’ The vaguely apologetic tone of the title is continued in the Preface, as the ladies admit that they ‘…claim no place among the grand compendiums of Housewifery; we have been humble gleaners in the field of culinary art.’
Many individual recipes bear the name of the particular humble culinary gleaner (or authoritative housekeeper) who supplied it, but the little ‘poem’ at the end is completely unacknowledged (and untitled).
Grate Gruyere’s cheese on macaroni,
Make the top crisp, but not too bony.
Roast veal with rich stock gravy serve;
And pickled mushrooms too, observe.
Roast pork, sans apple sauce, past doubt,
Is Hamlet with the Prince left out.
Your mutton chops with paper cover,
And make them amber brown all over.
Broil lightly your beefsteak – to fry it
Argues contempt of Christian diet.
Buy stall-fed pigeons; when you’ve got them
The best way to cook them is to pot them.
It gives true epicures the vapors,
To see broiled mutton minus capers.
To roast spring chickens is to spoil ‘em
Just split them down the back and broil ‘em.
Boiled turkey, gourmands know, of course,
Is exquisite with Challenge Sauce.
Egg sauce – few make it righ, alas! –
Is good with blue fish, or with bass.
Nice oyster sauce gives zest to cod;
A fish, when fresh, to feast a god.
Shad, stuffed and baked, is most delicious,
‘Twould have electrified Apicius.
Methinks the good ladies should have stuck to recipe writing.
Its artistic qualities aside, this poem did throw up one challenge. What is Challenge Sauce? There is no recipe for it in the book. It turns out that it was a commercial sauce produced by Messrs Durkee, supposedly in an attempt to mimic the very popular English Worcestershire Sauce made by Messrs Lea & Perrins’. Messrs Durkee did not hold their advertising copywriter back from promoting its unsurpassed ‘piquancy and richness of flavor’, nor its superiority over its competitors. One advertisement for it in 1873 read:
‘Pronounced by connoisseurs unqualifiedly the best, and at the same time a "perfect Sauce" for table use. It is cheaper than the English, and no dearer than the disgusting trash put up in this country and sold as Sauces.’
There are other questions raised by the ‘poem’ of course, as there always are. Just why is frying your steak an un-Christian act? How does covering your mutton chops with paper make them ‘amber brown all over’? And what, pray, is so difficult about Egg Sauce, a recipe for which is given in the book?
Egg Sauce.
Boil two or three eggs hard, cut them fine, and stir them into your drawn butter; if too thick, add a little cream or rich milk.
Happy culinary gleaning to you all!
Tomorrow’s Story …
Lobster, two cents apiece.
Quotation for the Day …
Another peculiarity of this country is the absence of napkins, even in the homes of the wealthy. Napkins, as a rule, are never used and one has to wipe one's mouth on the tablecloth, which in consequence suffers in appearance. Baron Ludwig von Closen (on American eating habits) (1780)
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Miserly Onions.
Today, July 3rdNaturally, some of the tales of her meanness related to food, so these are the stories we will focus on today. They are all of the “it is said” variety. Rumour had it, for example, that Hetty would walk any distance to save a few cents on milk or other basics, that she would return berry boxes for the one cent deposit, and that she would ‘cook’ her oatmeal on the office radiator to save fuel. It is also said that on her 78th birthday she attributed her health and longevity to eating baked onions.
Hetty could have done worse than develop a taste for onions. They are usually cheap and easily available for one thing. For another, there are many medicinal effects attributed to onions. One late 17th C household manual says of them that they are
Humans have been eating onions of one sort or another since ancient times, and it is almost impossible to imagine cooking without them. It is a rare savoury dish that does not include onions. I remember reading years ago an article by a cook or chef (I don’t remember any name) who said that as soon as he arrived home from work he would chop up an onion or two, and perhaps some garlic, and put these on to gently sauté while he decided what to have for dinner. There is something in that concept.
What is surprising about onions, given their long history in the human diet, is that this is their role – as an essential ingredient of a huge number of dishes, not a featured performer. I do not think that we give enough consideration to onions in their own right (I don’t include onion jam or caramelised onions here). There are relatively few historic recipes starring onions, but I have chosen a few for your enjoyment.
To butter Onions.
Beeing peeled, put them into boiling liquor, and when they are boil’d, drain them in a cullender, and butter them whole with some boiled currans [currants], sugar, and beaten cinnamon, serve them on fine sippets [toasts], scrape on sugar, and run them over with beaten butter.
[The Accomplisht Cook; Robert May; 1660]
To make an Onion Pye.
Wash, and pare some Potatoes, and cut them in Slices, peel some Onions, cut them in Slices, pare some Apples and slice them, make a good Crust, cover your Dish, lay a Quarter of a Pound of Butter all over, take a Quarter of an Ounce of Mace beat fine, a Nutmeg grated, a Tea Spoonful of beaten Pepper, three Tea spoonfuls of Salt, mix all together, strew some over the Butter, lay a Layer of Potatoes, a Layer of Onion, a Layer of Apple, and a Layer of Eggs, and so on, till you have filled your Pye, strewing a little of the Seasoning between each Layer, and a Quarter of a Pound of Butter in Bits, and six Spoonfuls of Water. Close your Pye, and bake it an Hour and a Half: A Pound of Potatoes, a Pound of Onion, and a Pound of Apples, and twelve Eggs will do.
[Art of Cookery made plain and easy; Hannah Glasse, 1747]
Baked Onions
Put six large onions into a saucepan of water, or water and milk in equal proportions, add salt and pepper and boil until tender. When done so they can be easily mashed work them up with butter to the consistency of paste, cover with breadcrumbs, and bake in a moderate oven. If preferred they may be boiled whole, put in a baking dish covered with butter and breadcrumbs, then baked.
[Good Things To Eat, As Suggested By Rufus … ; Rufus Estes... 1911]
Tomorrow’s Story …
Humble Gleaners.Quotation for the Day …
Happy is said to be the family which can eat onions together. They are, for the time being, separate, from the world, and have a harmony of aspiration. Charles Dudley Warner, My Summer in a Garden, 1871
Monday, July 02, 2007
Rice Pudding Again.
Today, July 2nd
The Editor in Chief of the Food & Wine section of the New Yorker was one of the judges at the first (was it the last?) Great Rice Pudding Tasting sponsored by (who else?) the Rice Council of America held in 1984. His name was William Rice, which presumably gave him another qualification to judge the pud. His comment on this day was :
“I haven't had the rice pudding of my life today. But I guess I lost that opportunity with the end of my childhood”
The rice pudding of my own childhood with was made from plain, pre-boiled rice, which always made it feel like a meal of leftovers from the outset. When I combined this thought with the realisation that I have already featured several variations on a rice pudding theme on this blog (HERE, HERE, and HERE), I became a little embarrassed. Such a large emphasis on something that is hardly the world’s favourite pudding, nor the world’s favourite way of using rice seemed like over-kill. A horrific thought then popped unbidden into my mind – if rice pudding is made from leftover rice, what does one do with leftover rice pudding?
A neat little book published in 1861 came to my rescue. The best thing about this book is that it gives the use of leftovers an image make-over. This is Secondary Cookery. Its full title is The family save-all, a system of secondary cookery, and its mission is to provide ‘Receipts for preparing good and tempting Dishes from COLD Meats, Vegetables, and Sweets, which may be RE-SERVED, with all the warmth and nicely of appearance of original Cookery’ because ‘perhaps there are none but the houses of the wealthier classes in which joints and other eatables are not, as a general rule, sent to the table twice, or even thrice.’ A noble mission indeed.
You can enjoy thrice cooked rice with the help of this little book. As the author’s recipe for rice pudding requires the rice to be boiled in water first, I see no reason why leftover rice (perhaps from your curry dinner) would not be quite appropriate for making pudding. If the boys and girls do happened to leave some of this favourite pudding (and a jolly pink pudding it is too), please refer to Hint number 372 for its third appearance.
To send Boiled Rice to the Table in the Finest Condition.
Hint 363. Soak it for seven hours in cold water, to which a little salt has been added. Have a stewpan ready, containing boiling water, into which put the soaked rice, and boil it very briskly for ten minutes, then pour it into a colander, set it by the fire to drain, and serve it up. The grains will be separate, and very large.
Hint 364. Rice should be prepared for Puddings in this way.
Hint 353. Boil one pound of good Rice (after being well washed) in plenty of water; when nicely soft, add one ounce of butter, and stir in, then add one tablespoonful of sugar. The rice should not be boiled in more water than it will absorb. Peel and slice six apples, take out the core and pips; put them in a stew-pan with six slices of beet-root, and a pint of water; stew until it is tender and mash them together, with a little butter and sugar. The beet-root is to give a rich pink colour to the apples, and improve the flavour. When done, place the rice on a dish; form a hole in the midst of it, in which place the mashed apple; have ready a little cream, butter, and sugar; pour it over the rice, and serve.
To Serve Cold Rice Pudding.
Hint 372. Remove the baked coating of the pudding, and spread the remainder nicely upon a dish. Over the pudding pour a custard, add a few lumps of jelly or preserved fruit.
Tomorrow’s Story …
Miserly Onions.
Quotation for the Day …
Where I'm from we don't trust paper. Wealth is what's here on the premises. If I open a cupboard and see, say, 30 cans of tomato sauce and a five-pound bag of rice, I get a little thrill of well-being - much more so than if I take a look at the quarterly dividend report from my mutual fund. Garrison Keillor.
Friday, June 29, 2007
An Antipodean Dinner.
Today, June 29thThe new Deputy Adjutant General of the military forces in
I dined this day, 29th June, with my respected chief Sir Maurice O'Connell, at his beautiful villa, Tarmons … there were brisk coal fires burning in both dining and living room and … the general appliances of the household, the dress of the guests and servants were entirely as they could have been in London. The family likeness of an Australian and Old Country dinner party became less striking when I found myself sipping doubtfully, then swallowing with relish, a plate of wallabi tail soup, followed by a slice of boiled schnapper with oyster sauce. A roast of kangaroo venison helped to convince me … a delicate wing of the wonga-wonga pigeon and sauce, with a dessert of plantains and loquats, guavas and some oranges, pomegranates and cherimoyas landed my decision at length firmly in the Antipodes.
What to choose from that menu today? The Wonga (or Wonga-Wonga) Pigeon I think. Pigeon makes such an elegant dish. The Wonga Pigeon (Leucosarcia melanoleuca) is a large, lovely, plump pigeon native to the forests of the Eastern edge of
I give you a recipe from “Mrs McLurcan”. Hannah Maclurcan was one of
Roast Wonga Pigeon.
Ingredients: 6 pigeons, ½ lb. butter, 2 cups breadcrumbs, 1 tablespoon chopped parsley, saltspoon cayenne, 1 teaspoon salt, juice of 3 lemons.
Mode: Pluck and clean the pigeons nicely, rub them over well with flour, pepper and salt them well, make a stuffing with half the butter, all of the breadcrumbs, chopped parsley and pepper and salt, divide it into six and equally stuff each bird. Then squeeze the lemons into a basin and beat up the butter with the juice until it is like a cream. Place the pigeonsin a baking tin and cover each one well with lemon and butter, place in a smart oven and bake ½-¾ of an hour. Baste them as often as you can. Serve at once with watercress (if obtainable).
Monday’s Story …
Rice Pudding Again.
Quotation for the Day …
Poultry is for the cook what canvas is for the painter. Brillat-Savarin.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
A Recipe for Mum.
Today, June 28th“…thence with my uncle Wight to the Mum house; and there drinking, he doth complain of his wife most cruelly, as the most troublesome woman in the world…”
The specialty at the Mum house was – Mum. Mum was a type of beer originally made in Braunschweig (
Naturally, whatever the Germans could do, the English tried to do better, and recipes for Mum soon started appearing in English cookbooks. There were often comments about its not particularly pleasant flavour (probably necessary in order to claim medicinal benefit?) – perhaps on account of the birch and fir tops. Maybe that is why old cookbooks also had recipes for bottled sauces using old Mum as an ingredient?
To make Mum.
Take thirty-two gallons of Water, boil it till a third part is waster, brew it according to Art, with three Bushels and a half of Malt, half a Bushel of ground Beans, and half a Bushel of Oat-meal; when you put it into your Cask, do not fill it too full, and when it begins to work, put in a Pound and a half of the inner Rind of Fir, half a Pound of the tops of Fir and Birch, (instead of the inward Rind and tops of Fir, our English Mum-makers use Cardamums, Sassafras and Ginger, the Rind of Walnut-tree, Elecampane-root, and red Sanders; others add Alexander Water-cresses, Brook-lime, and Horse-radish Root rasp’d) Avens, Beton, Burnet, Marjoram, Mother of Thyme, Penny-royal, of each a small Handful, Elder-flowers a Handful, of Rosa Solis a handful, of Carduus Benedictus a handful and a half, of Barberries bruis’d half an Ounce, of Cardamums bruis’d an Ounce and a half; these Ingredients are to be put in when the Liquor has wrought a while, and after they are let it, let it work over the Vessel as little as may be; when it has done working, fill up the Cask, and put into it five new laid Eggs, not broken nor crack’d, stop it close, and it will be fit to drink in two Years.
[Cook and Confectioners Dictionary;
To make Mum Catchup.
To a quart of old mum put four ounces of anchovies, of mace and nutmegs sliced one ounce, of cloves and black pepper half an ounce. Boil it till it is reduced one third. When cold, bottle for use.
[The Experienced English Housekeeper; Elizabeth Raffald, 1769]
Tomorrow’s Story …
An Antipodean Dinner.
Quotation for the Day …
Not all chemicals are bad. Without chemicals such as hydrogen and oxygen, for example, there would be no way to make water, a vital ingredient in beer. Dave Barry.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A pot of the best tea.
Today, June 27thThe first known reference to tea by an Englishman appeared in a letter dated this day in 1615. An
Tea is, in my humble opinion, still wonderfully therapeutic on its own, but sometimes it is necessary to take a little sugar to make the medicine go down. This is, I am confident, the reason why so many Tea Cake recipes were invented – this seems to have happened somewhere in the first half of the nineteenth century. The phrase covers a wide variety of treats today, but originally a tea-cake was “a light kind of flat cake to be eaten at tea”. Sometimes these were in the nature of a sweet yeast bun, sometimes more like a scone or a small cake, using baking powder as leavening agent. I give you one of each type, from the Cookery Book of Lady Clark of Tillipronie (1909).
Sultana Tea-cakes (Mrs Emslie, 1897)
Baked in ribbed quenelle moulds.
¼ lb. butter, ¼ lb. sugar ¼ lb. flour, 2 oz sultanas, 2 eggs, a little candied peel, and baking powder [she does not specify the amount].
Mix the same as for a cake; bake in small ribbed quenelle moulds. When they are done, cover them with icing of sugar and water, and put them on a wire sieve to dry.
Watford Cakes.
1 lb. flour, 3 oz. white sugar, 3 oz. butter, 1 oz. German yeast, ¾ lb. sultanas, a little mixed candied peel and spices, 2 eggs.
Mix with warm milk; will take about 2 hours to rise. Bake.
Tomorrow’s Story …
A Recipe for Mum.
Quotation for the Day …
The British have an umbilical cord which has never been cut and through which tea flows constantly. It is curious to watch them in times of sudden horror, tragedy or disaster. The pulse stops apparently, and nothing can be done, and no move made, until "a nice cup of tea" is quickly made. There is no question that it brings solace and does steady the mind. What a pity all countries are not so tea-conscious. World-peace conferences would run more smoothly if "a nice cup of tea", or indeed, a samovar were available at the proper time. Marlene Dietrich
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Recipes from Scutari.
Today, June 26th …Alexis Soyer was a famous French-born chef in Victorian England who cooked for aristocrats and gentlemens clubs, and achieved celebrity status in his own time. He was also famous for his philanthropic works in
Soyer volunteered to go to the
Here is an extract for his letter published on this day in 1855.
To the Editor of the Times,
Sir,- I herewith beg to forward you some of the most important receipts which I have concocted out of the soldiers’ rations, and which are now adopted in various parts of the camp, and will no doubt shortly be extended to every regiment in the Crimea, having had them printed for circulation throughout the army. Some of the receipts were printed at head-quarters and issued for distribution. The reason for my return to Scutari for a short time is to place a civilian cook who understands his business in each hospital, which cannot fail to be beneficial to the patients, and by a due organisation in those departments economy will in the end be effected.
I brought with me from head-quarters 12 complete rations as given daily to the troops, and with these provisions I am now teaching ten of those very willing fellows who were originally engaged as cooks in the hospitals the plain way of camp cookery, and, instead of being almost useless, as they were, in so important a branch, they will now turn out, if not the bravest in the army, at least the most wonderful, being able to face both fire and battery when requisite.
With the highest consideration, I have the honour to be, Sir, your most obedient servant,
A. SOYER
(Receipt No. 1) Stewed Salt Beef And Pork A La Omar Pasha
Put into a canteen saucepan about 2lb of well soaked beef, cut in eight pieces; ½lb of salt pork, divided in two, and also soaked; ½lb of rice, or six tablespoonsful; ½lb of onions, or four middle-sized ones, peeled and sliced; 2oz of brown sugar, or one large tablespoonful; ¼oz of pepper, and five pints of water; simmer gently for three hours, remove the fat from the top and serve. The first time I made the above was in Sir
(Receipt No. 7) Cossacks’ Plum Pudding
Put into a basin 1lb of flour, ¾lb of raisins (stoned, if time be allowed), ¾lb of the fat of salt pork (well washed, cut into small dies, or chopped), two tablespoonsful of sugar or treacle; add a half pint of water; mix all together; put into a cloth tied tightly; boil for four hours, and serve. If time will not admit, boil only two hours, though four are preferable. How to spoil the above:- Add anything to it.
Tomorrow’s Story …
A pot of the best tea.
Quotation for the Day …
An old-fashioned vegetable soup, without any enhancement, is a more powerful anti carcinogen than any known medicine. James Duke M.D.(U.S.D.A.)
Monday, June 25, 2007
Fork Food.
It is said that the first fork to arrive in
11th century: It appears that the Greeks may in fact have been the first to use forks, if the story of the bride of Domenico Selvo, Doge of Venice, is true. The Greek princess was so refined she had a eunuch to cut her food into small pieces which she then proceeded to eat with a golden fork. This was considered to be so decadent and delicate that her death a short while later was seen as evidence of Divine Retribution.
1364 - 80: Charles V of
1533: Oft-repeated history says that Catherine de Médici of
1611: An English traveller, Thomas Coryat, observed the use of forks in
It was not until well into the eighteenth century that forks became common-place, but a slow start was compensated for by the Victorians in the nineteenth century. Their love of dining table knick-knackery meant that special forks (and other utensils) were designed for specific foods: bacon forks, lettuce forks, asparagus forks, strawberry forks, sardine forks, oyster forks …. You get the idea.
Until there were forks, there were no fork luncheons of course, so may of the little recipes in For Luncheon and Supper Guests by Alice Bradley (1912) would have had to have been eaten very inelegantly with spoons or fingers.
Creamed Eggs And Mushrooms With Bacon Curls.
Put 6 eggs in top of double boiler. Cover with hot water, bring to boiling point, place over boiling water or on back of range and let stand 60 minutes. Remove shells and cut eggs in eighths lengthwise.
Remove skins and stems from ½ pound mushroom caps and cut in slices lengthwise.
Cover stems and skins with 1 ½ cups cold water, heat slowly to boiling point, simmer gently 20 minutes and strain.
Melt ⅓ cup butter, add ⅓ cup flour mixed with ¾ teaspoon salt and ⅛ teaspoon pepper. When smooth add stock strained from mushroom skins, with enough top milk or thin cream to make 3 cups. Stir until sauce boils.
Sauté mushroom caps in 1 tablespoon butter for 3 minutes. Add to sauce with the hard cooked eggs. When thoroughly heated turn out on a platter and arrange bacon curls over the top.
4 small cooked potatoes cut in pieces or 1 cup cooked macaroni or 1 small can asparagus cut in pieces may be used instead of mushrooms.
Bacon Curls.
Place thin strips of bacon on a board and with a broad-bladed knife press strips out as thin as possible. Roll each slice into a curl and fasten with a wooden toothpick. Cook until crisp and delicately brown in hot bacon fat deep enough to cover the curls of bacon. Drain on brown paper and remove toothpicks.
Tomorrow’s Story …
Recipes from Scutari.
Quotation for the Day …
The Italian and also most strangers that are commorant in Italy, do alwayes at their meales use forke when they cut their meat for while with their knife which they hold in one hand they cut the meate out of the dish, they fasten their forke, which they hold in their other hand, upon the same dish; so that whosoever he be that sitting in the company of any others at meale, should unadvisedly touch the dish of meate with his fingers which all at the table doe cut, he will give occasion of offence unto his company, as having transgressed the lawes of good manners, insomuch that for his error he shall least be brow beaten if not reprehended in wordes. This form of feeding I understand is generally used in all places of
Friday, June 22, 2007
May Harrods Suggest … ?
Today, June 22nd ...
Once upon a time, Harrods of London ran a series of newspaper advertisements in which they gave suggested menus for the day. Naturally, the ingredients could all be sourced at Harrods. I give you the menu for this day in 1914. Check out those prices, and weep. Don’t weep too hard over the canned peaches. Weep very hard over the champagne.
TO-NIGHT’S DINNER
May Harrod’s Submit This Menu?
-
Hors d’œvres.
Prawn and Olive Salad
(Prawns 1s. and 2s. a doz. in Fish Dept;
Olive, 11d. a bottle, Grocery Dept)
-
Clear Mock Turtle Soup.
-
Grilled Soles with Anchovy Butter.
(Soles, 2s. a lb. in Fish Dept; Anchovy
Paste, 9 ½ d. a pot in Grocery Dept.)
-
Roast Gosling. Apple Sauce.
Green Peas. New Potatoes.
(Gosling, 6s. 6d. each, Poultry Dept; Green Peas,
1s. a peck; New Potatoes, 10lbs a 1s. Veg. Dept)
-
Pêches à la Royale.
(Lemon Cling Peaches, 1s. 3d.
a tin, in Grocery Dept.)
-
Bénédictine
(7s. 7d. in Wine Dept.)
-
And with it
Harrods advise
A glass or so of
Eugene Laroche
Grand Imperial, extra dry, 5s. 5d.
A bottle, vintage 1906.
Anchovy Butter.
Take the bones from six anchovies, wash the fillets and dry them upon a cloth, pound them well in a mortar; add six ounces of fresh butter, mix well together, and proceed as in the last.
White Mock-Turtle Soup.
Procure half a calf's head, (scalded, not skinned), bone it, then cut up a knuckle of veal, which put into a stewpan, well buttered at the bottom, with half a pound of lean ham, an ounce of salt, a carrot, a turnip, three onions, a head of celery, a leek, a bunch of parsley and a bay-leaf, add half a pint of water; set it upon the fire, moving it round occasionally, until the bottom of the stewpan is covered with a white glaze; then add six quarts of water, and put in the half head, let simmer gently for two hours and a half, or until the head is tender, then take it out, and press it between two dishes, and pass the stock through a hair sieve into a bowl; then in another stew-pan have a quarter of a pound of butter, with a sprig of thyme, basil, marjoram and bay-leaf, let the butter get quite hot, then add six ounces of flour to form a roux, stir over a sharp fire a few minutes, keeping it quite white; stand it off the fire to cool, then add the stock, stir over the fire until boiling, then stand it at the corner, skim off all the fat, and pass it through a hair sieve into another stewpan; cut the head into pieces an inch square, but not too thick, and put them into the soup, which season with a little cayenne pepper; when the pieces are hot, add a gill of cream and pour it into your tureen.
The above quantity would make two tureens of soup, and will keep good several days, but of course half the quantity could be made.
On this Topic ...
A recipe for Mock Turtle Soup, assembled from very convenient canned ingredients, is HERE.
A recipe for Mock Mock Turtle Soup (the name is not a typo!) is HERE.
First Fork.
Quotation for the Day …
If the soup had been as warm as the wine, if the wine had been as old as the turkey, if the
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Solstice Syrups.
Today, June 21st
This day is the Solstice – the day the sun seems to stand still. In the Northern Hemisphere it is the Summer Solstice, the longest day and shortest night of the year, and in the Southern Hemisphere it is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day and the longest night. Since very very ancient times these celestial marks of the turn of the seasons have been celebrated all over the world, and the celebrations have been adapted and appropriated to varying cultures and religions. The classic example is the adoption of the Northern Winter Solstice customs to the Christmas season, so that we now do not associate fires and fruit cake with the movement of the sun at all (and they have an uncomfortable fit at Christmas in the Southern Hemisphere where it is Summer).
It seems to me – us now being global citizens and all – that the celebration of the Solstices is worthy of reviving. Not in the sense of religious worship, but in the sense of acknowledgement of this wonderful planet and the cycle of the seasons. A twice-yearly, truly global, non-sectarian celebration. Does the world need that? Would it be fun?
I would love to hear your own solstice celebration ideas.
Last year I gave you some ‘Snow’ recipes to represent the Winter Solstice here in the Southern hemisphere. This time I give you some recipes inspired by the Summer Solstice, which those of you in the Northern half of the globe are celebrating.
The recipes are from Cassells Dictionary of Cookery (1870’s), and appear under the heading Summer Beverages.
Quince Syrup.
Grate quinces, pass the pulp through a sieve, then set it before the fire for the juice to settle and clarify; strain and add a pound of sugar (boiled down) to every four ounces of juice; remove from the fire , and when cold bottle for use. A table-spoon of this syrup will flavour a pint of water.
Rasberry Vinegar [syrup]
This is made by squeezing the juice of three quarts of raspberries into a quart of vinegar, and then simmering the vinegar for about a quarter of an hour with two pounds of sugar in an earthen pipkin not glazed with lead. When cold it is to be corked; and a small spoonful of water makes it a very cooling and refreshing drink.
Lemon Syrup.
Boil six ounces of sugar in a pint of water until it is dissolved. Let it cool, then add a quarter of a pint of lemon-juice and half a drachm of essence of lemon. Mix thoroughly, and bottle for use. Sufficient: two tablespoonfuls of syrup to a tumblerful of cold water.
If your solstice celebrations demand cake, I offer you my recipe for Summer Solstice Cake (originally made for the Southern Hemisphere Christmas).
May Harrods Suggest … ?
Quotation for the Day …
The right food always comes at the right time. Reliance on out-of-season foods makes the gastronomic year an endlessly boring repetition. Roy Andries de Groot.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Potage Jubilé
The young Queen
The word “jubilee” has a Jewish heritage, and comes from the name of a ram’s horn used as a trumpet. The the word “jubilant” obviously comes from the same root, and would have aptly described the mood of Her Majesties subjects had she fulfilled the obligations required under the original definition of the word “jubilee”. The OED gives this as:
“A year of emancipation and restoration, which according to the institution in Lev. xxv was to be kept every fifty years, and to be proclaimed by the blast of trumpets throughout the land; during it the fields were to be left uncultivated, Hebrew slaves were to be set free, and lands and houses in the open country or unwalled towns that had been sold were to revert to their former owners or their heirs.”
It is doubtful if much emancipation and property restoration happened anywhere in Her Empire during any of Her Jubilees, but there is no doubt that may dishes bear the name “jubilee’. Not all were invented for Her special days of course, many organisations and individuals have celebrated their 50th anniversaries with a new dish. The famous Escoffier gives a recipe for Potage Jubilé and it seems likely that it might have been in
Potage Jubilé (Pea soup with quenelles of chicken)
1. Purée de pois frais.
This can be made in two ways:
(i)2 lb garden peas, white stock.
Cook the peas quickly in boiling salted water, strain and rub the peas through a fine sieve. Return the purée to the pan and add some white stock.
In this way the purée has a good colour.
(ii)2 lb garden peas, 3 oz. butter, 1 small lettuce, pinch sugar, 2 spring onions, ½ teaspoon salt, ½ pint water.
Put all the ingredients together and cook until the peas are tender. Rub through a fine sieve. Return the purée to the pan, add some white stock and bring to boiling point.
In this way, the purée is less bright in colour but has a more delicate flavour.
In both cases add 2-3 oz butter before serving and a little chopped chervil or mint.
2. Fine forcemeat of chicken with cream.
1 lb boned young chicken, 1 level teaspoon salt, very small pinch white pepper, 2 egg whites, 1 – 1 ¼ pints fresh thick cream.
Pound chicken in a mortar with seasoning. Add the egg-whites slowly then rub through a fine sieve. Put into a flat dish and leave on ice for at least 1 hour. Then stir in the cream very gently and keep on ice until required for use.
Preparation of Quenelles.
These are shaped in a spoon or ladle, in various sizes, put into a buttered fireproof dish and carefully covered with boiling white stock or simply with salted boiling water. Cover the dish and allow the quenelles to poach ofr 10-12 minutes on the corner of the stove. Above all, do not let the liquid boil, the quenelles should poach very gently.
Tomorrow’s Story …
Solstice Syrups.
Quotation for the Day …
Good soup is one of the prime ingredients of good living. For soup can do more to lift the spirits and stimulate the appetite than any other one dish. Louis P. De Gouy, The Soup Book (1949)
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
To Feed a Butt of Beer.
According to the French Revolutionary Calendar, what we now call June 19th (or sometimes the 20th) was the first day of the month of Messidor. Messidor was the tenth month of the year, and the first month of the Summer quarter. The name comes from the Latin word messis, meaning ‘harvest’.
The days of the calendar were named after agricultural plants, apart from the 5th (named after a domestic animal) and the 10th (named after an agricultural tool). The leftover days at the end of the year to bring the start back to the autumn equinox were called the Sansculottides (which refers to "those without trousers". There is a logical explanation for this name, but the ones provided by your own imagination will no doubt be much more amusing.
The first (Primidi) of Messidor was called Seigle (
In order to make bread, dough must be fermented by the addition of yeast, either deliberately or serendipitously from the air. The other great fermentation product of grain of course is alcohol, and the world has a goodly selection of these made from rye. What you can do, if you make your own rye bread, is to make an extra batch of extra-nutmeggy flavour, and use it to make beer, as Mrs. Taylor shows:
To feed a Butt of Beer.
Bake a rye loaf, of two-pence price, with a pretty deal of nutmeg in it; then cut it in pieces, and put it in a bag of hops with some wheat, and put them altogether in your cask.
[Mrs.. Mrs. Taylor's family companion; or the whole art of cookery display'd, in the newest and most easy method, being a collection of receipts ….
Tomorrow’s Story …
Potage Jubilé.
Quotation for the Day …
Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Benjamin Franklin
Monday, June 18, 2007
Retro Cake Challenge No. V
T. B Barritt has done it again. Retro Cake number 5 is a Coca-Cola Cake. If you have fond memories of the '70's go to "Coca-Cola Cake and a Smile from 1971" and get a warm, fuzzy, nostalgic feeling.
If you have missed Retro Cakes Nos. I-IV, go HERE and see them all. You'll be glad you did.
If you have missed Retro Cakes Nos. I-IV, go HERE and see them all. You'll be glad you did.
Turtle Season.
Today, June 18th …The Corporation of the City of London held a banquet on this day in 1814 for the “Allied Sovereigns” – the Prince Regent (later George IV), The Emperor of Russia (Tsar Alexander I), and the King of Prussia (Friedrich Wilhelm III). Seven hundred guests sat down to a dinner “as sumptuous as expense or skill could make it ….”.
It was more than an excuse for a good nosh-up of course:
“This, indeed, and similar occurrences, are not to be considered as mere festive parties; they are, when connected with their causes and consequences, political events of no small moment, the memory of which will remain so long as the present generation exists, and the record of them will form a part of the history of the unions of the Empire which the Sovereigns respectively are born to govern.”
Unfortunately, the record of this occasion of dinner-table diplomacy does not include the complete details of the menu - or if it did they have so far eluded me - but it did include mention of one essential dish for such events:
“Samuel Truner, Esq., one of the Directors of the Bank of England. Very handsomely presented a fine Turtle for the occasion, which was the first imported in the season, and arrived in time to be served .. ”
Turtle, particularly in the form of soup, became an indispensible and inevitable part of every important dinner - public or private or state - by the nineteenth century. So unthinkable was it to have a dinner without it, that it was preferrable (and quite proper) to have Mock Turtle Soup rather than No Turtle Soup. As turtle became more scarce, the substitute became more common, accumulating status in its own right until it became the norm.
Before their inevitable near-extinction by eating, how did one prepare a turtle for ones Royal Guests? This is how:
The following receipt for dressing a Turtle, having been much enquired after, was received from a cook in the
Cut off the head first, and hang the turtle by one of the hindmost fins, that the blood may run from it to make the fish white. This done, cut off the fins & wash them clean; then cut off the belly shell well with meat, take out the guts and wash them very clean, and observe you turn them the right way or you will meet with a great deal of trouble. Stew the guts with a quart or three pints of the best
This is the most proper way of dressing this fish, in any part of the
[From: The British Jewel, or complete housewife’s best companion … (1776)]
*coyn: an obsolete word for quince.
[Be patient – there will be more on Mock Turtle Soup on Friday.]
Tomorrow’s Story …
To Feed a Butt of Beer.Quotation for the Day …
I have always been punctual at the hour of dinner, for I know that all those whom I kept waiting at that provoking interval would employ those unpleasant moments to sum up my faults. Nicolas Boileau (1636-1711)
Friday, June 15, 2007
Bloomsday Breakfast Recipes (2)
Tomorrow, the 16th of June is Bloomsday, an Irish holiday to celebrate the life of the writer James Joyce. All of the 'action' of James' novel Ulysses takes place on June 16th 1904, and the chief protagonist is Mr Leopold Bloom.
Last year I gave you a recipe for one of Bloom's favourite dishes - fried kidney ( and I have repeated it below for the sake of completeness), so today I give you recipes for some of his other favourite dishes, so you can have yourself a Bloomsday breakfast or dinner.
Heart, Calf’s [Roast]
Wash the heart very clean, soak it in vinegar and water, fill it with a forcemeat made of four ounces of crumb of bread, two ounces of butter, two table-spoonfuls of chopped parsley, half a tea-spoonful of finely-minced lemon rind, and a little salt and cayenne. Fasten the heart securely and roast before a clear fire for an hour and a half to two hours. Serve it with goodmelted butter mixed with a table-spoonful of lemon juice or vinegar. A calf’s head is improved by partially boiling it before it is roasted.
[Cassell’s “Dictionary of Cookery” (1870’s)]
Liver, Fried.
Cut one pound of liver into slices, a quarter of an inch in thickness, and dredge some flour over them. Take an equal number of slices of bacon, fat and lean together. Fry the bacon first, and when it is done enough, draw the rashers from the fat, and place them on a hot dish. Fry the slices of liver in the same fat, and when lightly browned on both sides, dish bacon and liver in a circle, a slice of each alternately. Pour the fat from the pan, and dredge a little flour into it. Add a quarter of a pint of broth, a little salt and pepper, and a table-spoonful of mushroom ketchup. Stir smoothly together until the sauce boils, and pour it into the dish with the liver. Garnish with sliced lemon. If liked, a table-spoonful of finely-minced gherkins or pickled walnuts may be added to the sauce.
[Cassell’s “Dictionary of Cookery” (1870’s)]
Giblet Soup.
Stew the giblets (i.e head, neck, feet, gizzard, liver, heart, &c., “all the parts of a goose that are left behind when it goes to the spit to be roasted”), in 3 pints of water, and cook until the gizzard is tender, by which time all the other parts are sure to be well done; a little thyme should be used to flavour, and salt and pepper to season; strain the liquor, and when it is cold remove all fat and grease. Cut up the cold giblets into small pieces ready to add to the soup when required.
Beef stock must be added to the giblet stock, in quantitu according to the number of diners; the beef stock to be of course flavoured with vegetables, onion, &c. Add the minced giblets to the combined stocks. Heat well, and serve as hot as possible.
Have ready some light and delicate suet and flour dumplings, the size of a large walnut, well boiled and tender, to be served in the soup; allow 2 or more for each person.
Add the freshly made dumplings to the soup when it is in the tureen.
[The Cookery Book of Lady Clarke of Tillipronie; 1909]
Kidney Fritters.
Make a batter with four well-beaten eggs, mixed with half a pint of new milk, and flavoured with a little pepper, salt, and pounded mace. Stir into this a teaspoonful each of finely shredded chives, parsley and mushrooms, and a table-spoonful of the remains of a cold veal kidney finely minced, and mixed with half its weight of fat. Beat together for two or three minutes, then melt an ounce of butter in the frying pan, pour in the mixture, and stir it until it is set. When it is browned on one side, turn it on a hot dish, hold a salamander or red-hot shovel over it for a minute or two to colour it on the other, and serve immediately.
[Cassell’s “Dictionary of Cookery” (1870’s)]
Of course, any potato dish would be suitable for an Irish day; there are plenty to chose from in the Fun with Potatoes archive.
Calf’s Head and Pig’s Face.
Today, June 15th …“We had for Dinner boiled Calfs Head and Pigs face, a Piece of rost Beef and a Gooseberry Pudding’.
The English Parson James Woodforde recorded his dinner, as he often did, in his diary on this day in 1792. Most of us would have passed on the animal faces and gone for its rump, if we were time-travelled back to this meal, I suspect. Our modern sensibilities prefer that the parts of the beast that might smile back at us (and require a lot of fiddly preparation) be served up in anonymously in sausages or meat pies (you didn’t think all those snouts and ears and smiles were just sent for dog meat, did you?).
In the good Parson’s day, when a beast was killed, it was eaten nose to tail without qualms. The parson had expressed some distaste for cow’s udder when he was served it at
Often, as on this day, the Calf’s and Pig’s heads were simply boiled, but there were other ways of presenting these delicacies. Hannah Glasse in her Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy (1747) gives recipes for many parts of the pig and cow that are spirited away to be turned into a ‘product’ today, and do not reach the butchers’ shops. She gives several recipes for Calf’s Head – boiled, baked and hashed (two versions), and in a very elegant pie. In the pie recipe she also answers the question you were all afraid to ask: “What about the Eyes?”
To make a Calf’s Head Pye.
Cleanse your head very well, and boil it till it is tender, then carefully take off the Flesh as whole as you can, take out the Eyes and slice the Tongue; make a good Puff-paste Crust, cover the Dish, lay in your Meat, throw over it the Tongue, lay the Eyes cut in two, at each Corner; season it with a very little Pepper and Salt, pour in half a pint of the Liquor it was boiled in, lay a thin Top-Crust on, and bake it in an Hour in a quick Oven. In the mean time boil the Bones of the Head in two Quarts of the Liquor, with two or three Blades of Mace, Half a Quarter of an Ounce of whole Pepper, a large Onion, and a Bundle of Sweet Herbs. Let it boil till there is about a Pint, then strain it off, and add two Spoonfuls of Catchup, three of Red Wine, a Piece of Butter, as big as a Walnut, rolled in Flour, Half an Ounce of Truffles and Morels; season with Salt to your Palate; boil it and have Half the Brains boiled with some Sage, beat them, and twelve Leaves of Sage chopped fine; Stir all together, and give it a boil; take the other Part of the Brains, and beat them up with some of the Sage chopped fine, a little Lemon-peel minced fine, and half a small Nutmeg grated. Beat it up with an Egg, and fry it in little Cakes of a fine Light brown, boil six Eggs hard, take only the Yolks; when your Pye comes out of the Oven, take off the Lid, lay the Eggs and Cakes over it, and pour the Sauce all over. Send it to Table hot without the Lid. This is a fine Dish, you may put in as many fine Things as you please, but it wants no more Addition.
Monday’s Story …
Turtle Season.
Quotation for the Day …
There are few articles of cookery more generally liked than relishing pies, if properly made. Mrs Rundell, in A New System of Domestic Cookery (1806)
Thursday, June 14, 2007
The Fourteenth Guest.
Today, June 14th …Lieut.-Col. Nathanial Newnham-Davis was probably one of
On this day in 1899, he received a dinner invitation ‘with a tinge of mystery’. He was to dine ‘at one of the cheapest but most amusing places in town’, at a venue for which an introduction was required, where the conversation would be in French, and he was sworn to secrecy as to its whereabouts. It doesn’t sound like a commercially viable idea for a restaurant, does it? After walking through a labyrinth of streets in an unpretentious locality, they entered (via a wine-shop) what was clearly a private apartment, presided over by “Madame” (there is no suggestion that she was A Madam however, in spite of the secretive nature of the evening).
The meal began with a soup and continued with the boiled beef, whereupon “the lady in green” (unlucky colour, that) “made the terrible discovery that we were thirteen at table”. Madame was prevailed upon to sit down (she had been “hovering” and superintending the food, it seems) until a couple of belated guests arrived and saved the night. An admirable chicken, a sweet and cheese and coffee completed the meal for a total cost of two shillings.
Thirteen has been an unlucky number in many cultures for many centuries, and all sorts of explanations are given for the superstition, which I wont go into here. Suffice it to say that thirteen at table is a particular worry, the belief being that one of the guests will die within the year. The point was proved to some when President Wilson died within a year of giving an Armistice dinner for thirteen. The belief was (still is, they say) particularly prevalent in Paris, where independent gentlemen made themselves available as paid guests, called quatorizième (“fourteenth”) ready at a moment’s notice to save the life of someone else at table, in the unfortunate event that only thirteen others turned up.
The number thirteen pops up with varying significance in many places. In Norfolk it is (or was) believed that primroses are unlucky, but if one must bring them into the house, the bunch must not be fewer than thirteen in number, or broody hens (or geese) will hatch only the same number of eggs from the clutch as the number of primroses. As an accompanying belief, the traditional number of eggs to set under a hen is 13 – in the belief that she will then rear 12 and the 13th will be addled.
I therefore give you a recipe for a sixteenth century tart of eggs and primroses, and your guests will be very lucky if you go to the trouble of making it for them. The recipe is given as a variation of a tart of borage flowers.
To make a tarte of borage floures.
Take borage floures and perboyle them tender, then strayne them wyth the yolckes
of three or foure egges, and swete curdes, or els take three or foure apples, and perboyle wythal and strayne them with swete butter and a lyttle mace and so bake it.
To make a tarte of marigoldes primroses or couslips.
Take the same stuffe to euery of theim that you do to the tarte of borage and the same ceasonyng.
[A Propre new booke of Cokery; 1545]
Tomorrow’s Story …
Calf’s Head and Pig’s Face.
Quotation for the Day …
Mark Twain told a friend of an invitation to be the 13th guest at a dinner party. Horrified, the friend advised him, “Don’t go! It’s bad luck!” To which Twain replied, “Nonsense.” The next day, Twain met the friend again and said, “I admit that you were right about the dinner. It WAS bad luck. There was only enough food for twelve.”
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