Melere Cake, Solved

The ‘melere cake’ in my recent post Treats from the Dictionary piqued some interest and led to a number of comments and emails about the possible nature of the cake. As with so many intriguing topics, the answer was both obvious and delightful, once it was discovered. 

One of the references that turned up when I searched for ‘meleres’ cake was an entry in a glossary to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

cake. In Wright’s Glossaries, ed. Wülker [1884], col. 788, l.36 we find, ‘Hic panis subverucius, a meleres cake’; on which Wright remarks: ‘Perhaps this name alludes to the common report that the miller always stole the flour from his customers to make his cakes, which were baked on the sly.’

This is the point at which the cake puzzle becomes obvious, for the word ‘miller’ is very ancient, and therefore has had many, many spellings through the ages. They are all listed in the Oxford English Dictionary, and include mellere, and melener. So, meleres cake is miller’s cake. I don’t know how I missed this, as my usual first step in unravelling a word mystery is the bleedingly obvious one - to plumb the depths of the OED.

This is also the point at which the story becomes delightful. How delightful is that phrase panis subverucius?  Surely, given the explanation in Wright’s Glossary, it means ‘subversive bread’? And how much fun is that?  A minor setback appeared to pop up when I could not find subverucius in any Latin dictionaries or indeed the OED. In fact, the one and only reference to subverucius I found was in the quotation given above.

The OED ultimately came good however, with the origin of the word ‘subversive’ being subversivus which comes from the post-Classical Latin verb subvertere, meaning “to overturn, to cause the downfall of, ruin, to overthrow, destroy, to undermine, to upset, in post-classical Latin also to corrupt (a person), to cause (a person) to lose (faith.)”

 Subverucius must surely be an alternative (can we call it a post-post-Classical Latin version?) of subversivus, must it not? Or perhaps a simple misspelling? Either way, I am satisfied that panis subverucius is indeed ‘subversive bread.’

We can add a literary delight to this linguistic delight. It may be our old fourteenth century friend, Geoffrey Chaucer, who perpetrated the story of the thieving miller. In the Reeve’s (Carpenter’s) Tale, the Reeve, who has been offended by the Miller, gets his own back by telling a story which does not show the Miller in a good light. The story is full of plot and counter plot, and sex (a lot of sex.) In essence, the miller steals some of the flour he has milled for some customers, and has his wife make it into ‘cakes’ while the unwitting men go off to find their escaped horses (how they got ‘lost’ is another part of the story.)

And when the myller sawh that they were gon,
He half a busshel of the flour hath take,
And bad his wyf go knede it in a cake.

Later, however, his daughter who has spent a lusty night with one of the clerks,  gives her father’s game away when she tells her lover where he can find the cake.

Whan that thou wendist hom-ward by the melle,
Right at the entré of the dore byhynde
Thou schalt a cake of half a busshel fynde,
That was i-maked of thyn owen mele,
Which that I hilp myn owen self to stele.

The story does not end there of course, there is yet more confusion and subterfuge to follow, and if you are interested the full tale is easy to find on the web in its original language or a more readable interpretation.

Now, what to give you for the recipe for the day? ‘Cakes’ in Chaucer’s time were not cakes as we know them now, for it was to be many centuries before baking powders were invented. A cake at this time was made from bread dough, enriched with dried fruit or milk or eggs or butter and spices. I have given recipes for such ‘cakes’ in the past, so today’s recipe is not for millers bread, but can be said to be inspired by the original discussion we had on the meaning of ‘melere.’

Several of you – and I myself – thought that ‘melere’ might indicate ‘mel’ or honey. One of my dictionary searches turned up the following:

Spanish Melcócha: cake made of honey, gingerbread [1854]

So, here is a recipe for ‘Spanish Gingerbread’ which sets off a whole other set of mysteries. I cant see anything ‘Spanish’ about this recipe, but it sounds good anyway.

Soft Spanish Gingerbread.

I cup of butter                          1 cup of molasses.

I cup of sugar                          1 cup of sour cream.

4 eggs.                                                 3 cups of flour.

I tablespoonful of ginger         1 teaspoonful of cinnamon.

I teaspoonful of cloves                        1 teaspoonful of soda.

Mix part of the flour with the butter, sugar, molasses and sour cream, to which add the yelks of four eggs well beaten, then the spices, and last the whites of four eggs and the rest of the flour. Bake moderately fast.

175 Choice Recipes, by members of the Chicago Women’s Club (1887)

Laying the Breakfast Table.

I cannot resist one more short extract from yesterday’s source, The Whole Art of Dining, with Notes on the Subject of Serving, (1921) by J. Rey. Many of you round about now will be reeling from a huge Thanksgiving dinner. You may not be able to face the thought of breakfast right now, but when you do, why not make it an elegant event to complete the holiday? Here are the instructions from our book of the day, for laying the breakfast table, English-style.

The method of laying the table for breakfast in England is the following:

To each cover lay a large steel knife and silver fish-knife to the right with their corresponding forks to the left, and a medium-sized spoon for porridge to the right of the knives, a fruit plate with d’oyley and finger bowl, and fruit knife and fork (the English and American custom being to begin the breakfast with fresh fruit), a small plate with the serviette and a roll with a small steel knife for butter to the left of the cover. To the right place a large cup and saucer (called breakfast cup.)

In the centre of the table place two sugar basins, one containing lump sugar and the other castor sugar, a cruet, iced water, and various kinds of fresh fruit according to season.

Here is one of the English Style breakfast menus given in the book:

Tea, Coffee, Cocoa,

Chocolate, Malted Milk

--

Fresh Fruit assorted

Stewed Fruit

--

Porridge and Cream

--

FISH

Grilled Mackerel

Grilled Turbot

Fried Soles

Finnon Haddock

Kippers, Bloaters

Grilled Fresh Herrings

Kedgeree, Fish cakes.

--

Fried Eggs and Bacon

Plain Omelette

Ham and Eggs

Poached Eggs on Toast

Grilled Kidneys

Calf’s Liver and Bacon

Grilled Gammon Rasher

Sausages and Mashed Potatoes

Grilled Tomatoes and Bacon

Grilled Mushrooms on Toast.

Other essential English breakfast items not specifically mentioned on the menu are discussed in the text:

As a general rule, breakfast is finished with honey or some preserve as marmalade, etc., or compôte of fruit (if this is not served at the beginning of the meal, as is frequently the case.) In England there is always a large variety of compote of fruit (fresh and preserved) kept in readiness on the buffet during breakfast.

As regards bread, instead of placing a roll on each cover, it is sometimes more convenient to place a silver basket or in place of this an ordinary plate with a serviette on the centre of the table containing an assortment of  rolls, crescents, and brioches, so that the customer may choose what he pleases. Butter and toast should always be on the table without waiting for a customer to ask for them.

The American Style breakfast menu given in the book includes Buttered Eggs – just the thing for a Friday morning breakfast, don’t you think?  Especially with tomatoes.

Buttered Eggs

Heat omelet pan. Put in one tablespoon butter; when melted, slip in an egg, and cook until the white is firm. Turn it over once while cooking. Add more butter as needed, using just enough to keep egg from sticking.

Boston Cooking School Cook Book, 1906

Buttered Eggs with Tomatoes

Cut tomatoes in one-third inch slices. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, dredge with flour, and saute in butter. Serve a buttered egg on each slice of tomato.

Boston Cooking School Cook Book, 1906

How to Serve Dinner.

A wonderful book has come into my possession, and I want to share some of its contents with you today. It is The Whole Art of Dining, with Notes on the Subject of Serving, by J. Rey, published in London in 1921. With Thanksgiving already upon many of us, and Christmas imminent, its advice is very timely indeed.

The book provides a marvellous glimpse into dining with the aristocratic - or at least the rich and famous - in the first decades of the twentieth century, and it is, as the title suggests, a veritable treasure trove of practical advice on how to emulate those folk.

Those of you about to celebrate Thanksgiving have presumably shopped till you have dropped, cooked until you have dropped further, and will eat until you fall over completely. All that is left in the preparation is to set the table and serve the dinner. I will forbear to repeat the instructions on exactly how many inches from the centre of the plate to put each piece of cutlery and go straight to the bigger picture. 

In the following extracts the author is referring to service à la Russe, which is the style of service we are familiar with today, with each course being served sequentially to each individual diner. 

“The service à la Russe does not admit of anything being placed on the centre of the table except the floral decorations, and in no case may any hot dish be placed upon it.

If the dinner is not one of very great “etiquette”, it is permissible to put on the table a “Pàté de fois gras truffé” or a Galantine de Faisan habillée, if they are artistically arranged; also a pretty “corbeille” made of sugar filled with bon-bons and friandises.

If the dinner is “en famille” it is permissible to put the water jugs and wine decanters on the table; also the fruit in fruit stands; but in a case of a dinner of etiquette in a house of the aristocracy, nothing whatever is put on the centre of the table but the flowers, candlesticks, salt and pepper.

To ensure rapid and efficient service everything required during the meal should be placed beforehand on the side-boards and serving table, such as large cold plates for cold meat or fowl, salad plates, sweet plates, reserve knives and forks of all kinds, all the requisites for carving, soup spoons, spoons for gravy, glasses for water and liqueurs, reserve bread, butter, ice, English and French mustard, various kinds of sauces (such as A1, Worcestershire Sauce, etc.), cut brown bread and butter and Chili vinegar if there are oysters, lemons cut in four for fried fish, chutney if there is curry, currant jelly if there is roast mutton or venison, dry biscuits and celery if there is cheese to be served, etc, etc.

In addition, fruit plates must be prepared, each with their corresponding white d’oyleys, glass finger-bowl and silver fruit knife and fork. The water for the finger-bowls should be slightly warmed in winter, but as cool as possible in summer. In houses and hotels de luxe it is customary to put just a dash of rose-water or a slice of lemon into the finger-bowls.

If everything is properly prepared beforehand, a dinner of twelve or fourteen covers can be easily served, in the dining room, by two waiters and an extra butler to serve the wines and liqueurs. If the kitchen and pantry are far away from the dining room, it is always better to have a young assistant to help the carry dishes etc.  In a private house it could be arranged to have two servants (men or women) in the dining room, two more to fetch and carry the dishes and plates, and the butler to direct the service and serve the wines, etc. At a dinner of etiquette it is the custom for the waiters or servants to always wear white gloves, white ties, and white waistcoats.

A full dinner, modern style, consists of the following courses:

I.- Hors d’oeuvre varies (or oysters or caviar); II.- Two soups (one thick and one clear): III.- Two kinds of fish (one large boiled, the other small fried); IV.- An entrée; V.- The joint or “pièce de resistance”; VI.- The sorbet; VII.- The roast and salad; VIII.- A dish of vegetables; IX.- A hot sweet; X.- An ice-cream and wafers; XI.- Dessert (fresh and dry fruits); XII.- The coffee and liqueurs.”

Well, I do hope you have all that food organised, and the white gloves for your butler and waiters are freshly laundered! 

As the recipe for the day, I give you a lovely sorbet (two variations, actually) which will suit many occasions. It is from one of my favourite sources – Cassell’s Dictionary of Cookery (1870’s)

Sorbet of Kirschenwasser.

Make some ice as follows:- Mix thoroughly a pint of syrup at 35^o, and a pint of Chablis. Strain the mixture through silk into a freezing pan and freeze in the usual way. When frozen, flavour it with three table-spoonfuls of kirshenwasser. Put the sorbet into glasses, and serve at dinner with the roasts.

Sorbet of Rum.

Make the ice as before, but before freezing mix with the sorbet a quarter of a pint of strained lemon juice. When frozen, flavour with three table-spoonfuls of fine old Jamaica rum, and serve it in glasses with the roasts.

Thanksgiving, 1918.

In November 1918, after the cessation of World War I, President Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation designating Thursday the twenty-eighth day of that month as ‘a day of thanksgiving and prayer.’ The proclamation read:

It has long been our custom to turn in the autumn of the year in praise and thanksgiving to Almighty God for His many blessings and mercies to us as a nation. This year we have special and moving cause to be grateful and to rejoice. God has in His good pleasure given us peace. It has not come as a mere cessation of arms, a mere relief from the strain and tragedy of war. It has come as a great triumph of right. Complete victory has brought us, not peace alone, but the confident promise of a new day as well in which justice shall replace force and jealous intrigue among the nations. Our gallant armies have participated in a triumph which is not marred or stained by any purpose of selfish aggression. In a righteous cause they have won immortal glory and have nobly served their nation in serving mankind. God has indeed been gracious. We have cause for such rejoicing as revives and strengthens in us all the best traditions of our national history. A new day shines about us, in which our hearts take new courage and look forward with new hope to new and greater duties.

While we render thanks for these things, let us not forget to seek the Divine guidance in the performance of those duties, and divine mercy and forgiveness for all errors of act or purpose, and pray that in all that we do we shall strengthen the ties of friendship and mutual respect upon which we must assist to build the new structure of peace and good will among the nations.

Wherefore, I, Woodrow Wilson, President of the United States of America, do hereby designate Thursday, the twenty-eighth day of November next as a day of thanksgiving and prayer, and invite the people throughout the land to cease upon that day from their ordinary occupations and in their several homes and places of worship to render thanks to God, the ruler of nations.

In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done in the district of Columbia this sixteenth day of November in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and eighteen and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and forty-third.

It would have been interesting to know what was on the Thanksgiving table when President Wilson sat down to dinner, but sadly I have been unable to find out. As somewhat of a contrast however, I can give you the details of one other dinner served on this first official Thursday Thanksgiving. It is the dinner provided to the officers at Alcatraz, when the fortifications on the little island in San Francisco bay still operated as a military prison.  

-

- DINNER -

Ox Tail Soup,

            Oyster Cocktails,

                        American Punch,

                                    Roast Suckling Pig,

                                                Apple Sauce,

Nut Dressing,

            Roast Turkey,

                        Cranberry Sauce,

                                    Giblet Gravy,

                                                Mashed Potatoes,

Corn on the Cob,

            Green Peas,

                        Candied Sweet Potatoes,

                                    Celery,

                                                Fruit Salad,

Olives, Pickles, Picallili,

            Mince Pie with Hot Sauce

                        Pumpkin Pie,

                                    Fruit Cake,

                                                Coffee,

Apples, Peaches, Pears,

            Bananas, Grapes, Assorted Nuts,

                        Assorted Candies,

                                    Cigarettes, Cigars.

Without doubt, none of the officers escaped the dinner table hungry!

I was hard-put to think of a recipe for any of the dishes on this menu that I have not already given you at some time. The ‘hot sauce’ intrigued me a little however. The phrase in Britain and the UK would usually only refer to peppery-hot or chilli-hot sauce – hardly the sort of accompaniment to mince pie. Surely, I thought, ‘hot sauce’ in this context can only mean one thing – custard? And presumably the name is intended to distinguish it from the alternative – hard sauce?

Here is hot sauce according to Housekeeping, Cookery and Sewing for Little Girls, (1925) by Olive Hyde Foster.

Hot Sauce.

The following hot sauce is poured around [the Christmas Pudding]: one-quarter cupful butter, one cupful sugar, one teaspoonful flour. Mix flour and sugar, add butter and one cupful cold water, and stir till it boils and thickens. Flavor with nutmeg.

This, my friends, is not custard!