The Order of the Courses at Dinner.

Within my lifetime, one of the things folk worried about was which cutlery to use with which  dish at a formal dinner, with its intimidating arrangement of tableware at each place (general rule: work from the outside in.) Before my lifetime, a great anxiety for the mistress, the cook, the footman, and the butler in “higher ranking” households was to get the big picture of the dinner arrangement correct.  Luckily, books such as An Encyclopædia of Domestic Economy, by Thomas Webster (1852) came to the rescue.

Order of the Courses.

4908. Dinners in good style consist of either two or three courses: the first fish and soup; the second of meats variously prepared, and of which the side and corner dishes are called entrées; the third of game when in season, with flank and corner dishes, called entremêts by the French, consisting of jellies, creams, pastry, and other confectionery: vegetables dressed à la François are also sometimes introduced as entremêts.

4909. In a dinner of two courses fish and soup are often brought in with the entrées at the flanks and corners, and are removed by dishes of meat or poultry. In the most fashionable dinners there are generally two removes of the principal dishes in each course; each must consist of the same number of dishes; for instance, if in the first course there are six entrées, in the second there must be six entremêts.

4910. In the first course the principal dishes are usually of English cookery, the entrées of French. A centre dish, such as cold game pie, or other savoury pie, may, without impropriety, remain on the table till the removal of the second course; when it is to be left during the course, it is called in the bill of fare a dormant.

Symmetry in the order of the dishes must be preserved. Thus puff pastry on one side should have a corresponding dish on the other of short pastry. In all cases opposite corner should have corresponding dishes.

4911. In second courses the flank or side dishes may have vegetables prepared in the French style, and be removed by fondus souffle, &c; or in smaller dinners, when flank dishes are omitted, two of the corners may consist of vegetable entremêts, the other two of sweet dishes.

4912. The bill of fare of each course should be neatly drawn up on a porcelain slate, and placed at the head of the table for the convenience of the presiding lady.

4913. The butler should also be provided with a bill of fare, as on him devolves the charge of removing and placing properly each dish.

And from the same book, our recipe for the day:

Pigeon pie.

When pigeons are plentiful and cheap, you may afford a couple to make the gravy for the pie. When emptied and washed, divide these two pigeons, and mash them, bones and all, in a mortar; put some parsley, trimmings of mushrooms, and truffles if you have any, with green onions and some salt, into butter, to stew gently; when tender, put in the mashed pigeons, and when they have well sweated, moisten with some veal broth, so as to possess, after the gravy is completed, rather more than a pint, which strain and skim off the fat. Put into a pie-dish, sheeted with paste, a veal cutlet, and over it six pigeons, both well-seasoned; distribute some egg balls (see "Forcemeats "), and fill up the dish with part of the prepared gravy; then apply a paste cover of a good thickness. Bake it, and as the gravy exhales fill up with the remainder.— N.B. This pie requires to be well seasoned and eaten hot. If you make a pigeon pie to be eaten cold, you may cover the bottom, sides, and top with slices of bacon, as, when cold, the fat may be removed. If you prefer beef-steak to veal at the bottom, it may be substituted.

The Beer Code, and Beer Duels.

I cannot resist sharing the following piece from Muskingum Legends: With Other Sketches and Papers Descriptive of the Young Men of Germany and the Old Boys of America, by Stephen Powers (1871) with you all today. The chapter referred to by the author is “Student Rambles in Prussia.”

I will end this chapter with a translation of part of a curious document I came upon in my rambles. It is entitled "Leipsic Beer Code," and is the body of rules accumulated from tradition upon the subject of beer-drinking in the Leipsic University. It will show better than a treatise could to what a system the devotees of Gambrinus have reduced their orgies:

I. Subjects of The Code.

1. All persons, under the operations of this Code, are divided into beer-boys and foxes.

2. A fox becomes a beer-boy, either by the lapse of two semesters, or by beer-trial. The beer-trial is conducted in the following manner: the song beginning,

"In Leipzig angekommen,

Als Fuchs bin aufgenommen,"

is sung; and if, after the first and the last stanzas, the candidate drinks a whole, and after each of the others a half-pint, he is solemnly proclaimed a beer-boy.

3. All kinds of beer are constitutional under this Code, but other drinks are not recognized.

II. Drinking Challenges.

4. To increase the jollity of drinking-bouts, it is an immemorial custom for the beer-boys to drink to each other about a round-table, even if it is only the plain beer-table of the jovial student, for thereby the reproach of the "solitary swig" is removed. When Müller says to Schulze, "I come to thee, I challenge thee, I drink to thee a half, a whole," or so, Schulze will be so carried away with enthusiasm that he will involuntarily accept in the usual words.

5. As to the acceptance of the quantity named, Schulze is bound under all circumstances, both morally and by the beneficent rules of the beer-shame, to do so at once, and in the following words: "Profit, drink it, swig it, it's right." Mere winking or nodding does not suffice. Even the expression "Swig it double" is not forbidden, only Schulze is not to guarantee that it is actually done. If Shulze delays to respond "Profit," etc., then Müller can demand it of him with the words, "Schulze, say 'Profit,'" etc. three times. If Schulze, after this demand, does not at once accept the quantity named, he goes into a beer-shame. If Müller drinks before Schulze accepts, the latter is not bound to follow up. But if Schulze has his throat so well in order that he feels the need of a drink, he cries out with a loud voice, " Müller, I follow you up," whereupon the latter gives vent to his unspeakable joy.

6. One is not bound to accept a challenge from a beer-debtor. The constitutional quantity ranges from a quarter-pint to two wholes.

7. Should several beer-honorable souls, as Müller, Schulze, Lehmann, etc., wish to express their liking for someone, they blow him in the air with so or so many wholes or halves,—that is, each of them drinks the same quantity to Richter, for instance. Richter must now drink this quantity to each of them in return, at intervals of five beer-minutes (three minutes). Foxes cannot blow in the air this way without the participation of at least one beer-boy.

8. To promote universal jollity at the beer-table is the object of the very useful custom called "Drinking to the World." Richter, after drinking his quantities, retaliates with the same (at least a half-pint) upon every one at the table except Müller, Schulze, and Lehmann.

III. Beer-Duels.

9. A beer-duel is a duel in which the weapons are beer, and the conqueror is he who first drinks a certain quantity in a constitutional manner.

10. As in every duel, so here, there must first be an offense given. After every offense a challenge must be given within at least five beer-minutes. The offense is of two sorts, "sage" and "beer-baby."

11. In case a beer-boy is called "sage," he can either challenge the offender, or, when he thinks the offense was involuntary, or proceeded from some other cause, he can reply with "Doctor." The other must then challenge him, or reply with "Pope." After " Pope" a challenge must be given. In case of a duel on "sage," each party drinks a half; "Doctor," a whole; "Pope," two wholes.

12. When a beer-boy is called "beer-baby," a challenge must be given, and each party drinks a half.

13. Each principal must choose a second, and the second of the challengee an umpire. The challenger's second commands, "Let the Popes (or Doctors) seize!" the challengee's second says, "Attack!" the other replies, "Out!" In a duel on "beer-baby," the challengee chooses an umpire, who equalizes the weapons. The challenger says, "One;" the challengee, "Two;" the challenger, "Three;" whereupon they begin to drink.

14. The umpire declares him in beer-shame who drinks unconstitutionally, or who was the last to say "beer-baby." To drink unconstitutionally is, to begin to drink before the word "Out," or "Three;" to slop out beer (bleed) during the drinking; to leave a little (called Philistine), enough to cover the bottom of the mug; or, to break the mug in setting it down.

15. Seconds and umpires must be beer-honorable beerboys, and the umpire is bound on Grand Cerevis to decide according to his best knowledge and belief.

IV. Orders Ex Pleno.

16. Every beer-boy has the right, in certain cases, to order a fox to drink as a punishment. This is called an order ex pleno. It is usually resorted to when the foxes carry their tails too high, and long experience has demonstrated it to be the best means for keeping them in a proper state of humility.

17. The order ex pleno is given in the following manner: The beer-boy calls out to the culprit fox, "Müller, drink ex plena'' once. If the fox delays, this order is given a second and third time, and if he still refuses, he is at once declared in a beer-shame. Idle excuses are not to be accepted. If the beer-boy calls out, "It is remitted," the fox is released from further drinking; but if he compels him to drink it all, he is bound to drink at least one swallow with him, under pain of the beer-shame.

18. Should a fox think he was ordered to drink ex pleno without sufficient ground (which is hardly conceivable), he can, after he drinks his quantity, ask the other why he ordered him to do it. If he still thinks himself wronged, he can then take oath before any impartial beer-honorable beer-boy, and through him have a beer-court assembled.

19. In beer-villages, that is, in every place outside of Leipsic, except in corps-bouts and regular beer-cellars, a man of a higher semester can order one of a lower to drink

expleno. If the latter refuses, the other can punish him by shaking his mug of beer out over his head.

V. Grand Cerevis.

20. The Grand Cerevis is the highest form of affirmation in all beer-cases. It is, therefore, to be given as the last and indefeasible testimony, when no other kind can be adduced for lack of witnesses.

21. Since the Grand Cerevis is principally employed when jollity has reached its acme, by reason of the unlimited swigging, and when, by consequence, it is no longer to be expected that general attention will be paid to what is passing, it is necessary, in order to prevent a frivolous use of it, that it should never be given negatively. In other words, one must never affirm on Grand Cerevis that another did not do so and so; but, at the utmost, that he did not hear or see him do so and so. One Grand Cerevis must also never be given against another.

22. The only case where the last clause above given is violated is as follows: When one accuses another of having given his Grand Cerevis falsely, he must establish that fact through two beer-honorable witnesses, who are bound on Grand Cerevis to declare truthfully what they have seen or heard. If the defendant is proven guilty, he goes into the highest beer-shame.

******* 

I cannot follow up this quaint document further. It contains eighty-three sections, describing beer-courts, beer-conventions, beer-punishments, the beer-shame, etc. There are twenty-two beer-crimes which lead to the beer-shame, seven which conduct to the sharpened beer-shame, and four which terminate in the perpetual beer-shame, or gallows, at which point the offender may be forcibly ejected from the drinking-bout, if he refuses to enter a beer-trial for the sake of drinking himself back to a beer-honorable estate. Although hanging on the gallows, he can still return, if he will drink enough within a certain number of minutes.

As the recipe for the day I give you a nice cake:-

German Cake.

Two pounds of flour;

One pound of sugar;

One pound of butter;

Three eggs;

One teaspoonful of cinnamon;

A wine-glass of rose-water.

Beat the butter and sugar together, whisk the eggs and add them with the flour, cinnamon and rose-water. Roll the dough thin, cut it into cakes and cover them with sweet almonds, blanched and cut in half.

Bake them on tins in a moderate oven.

Sage Ideas.

I don’t believe I have featured sage in any previous posts, so it is definitely time that I gave it some blog space. Common sage (Salvia officinalis ) has a long history of both medicinal and culinary use in the Old World. An Universal Etymological English Dictionary, by Nathan Bailey (1675) described it thus:

SAGE: a sweet-smelling, wholesome Herb, comfortable to the Brain and Nerves, purifying the Blood, good for Wounds, &c.

In fact, it is difficult to think of a disease or condition for which sage has not been recommended across the centuries, although nowadays it is primarily a culinary herb - and without doubt, its best-known use is in stuffing (or dressing, if you prefer) for pork or poultry. I can hardly imagine an English Sunday dinner of roast pig or chicken without sage and onion stuffing – and it should probably be illegal to serve it that way. On the off-chance that you are not familiar with this English staple, I give you the following instructions:

Sucking-pig.

Sucking-pig may be either roasted or baked. If roasted, it must be put down at a distance from the fire, and should be basted with oil, dripping, or lard. The pig is always stuffed with some kind of stuffing containing sage. A good Receipt for which is to take a quarter of a pound of crumbs of bread, one onion, a small handful of sage, a raw egg, and a small piece of butter; these should be well mixed together with a little pepper and salt. Then fill the belly of the pig, and sew up with a common needle and thread. Another plan is to cut a round of bread thick, as for toast, brown it very lightly, and butter it, then soak it in some water in which a handful of sage and an onion have been boiled, cut it into long pieces, and lay it in the belly, with alternate layers of the boiled sage leaves, but no onion, after which it is to be closed as above. A pig about a month old will take from an hour and three quarters to two hours; and if two weeks older, another hour. After taking it from the spit cut the head off, and leave the body in the dripping-pan. Then divide the head longitudinally, and take out the brains for sauce; after which, return it to the dripping-pan. When the sauce is made, divide the body down the middle, and lay the two halves back to back, with half the head at each end. The sauce is made by chopping the brains up very finely with boiled sage, and mixing with some good plain stock, or the gravy made from the dripping-pan. Some made gravy should also be served with it.

The English cookery book, receipts collected by a committee of ladies,

and ed. by J. H. Walsh (1859)

And now for some more unusual ideas for sage:

Sage-Wine, very good.

To twenty-eight Pounds of Malaga Raisins pick'd and shred, have twenty-eight Quarts of Spring-Water well boil'd, but let it be cool as Milk from the Cow, before you pour it on the Raisins; then put in half a Bushel of Red Sage grosly shed; stir all together, and let it stand six Days, stirring it very well every Day, and cover it as close as you can; then strain it off, and pour it into your Vessel; it will soon be fine, but you may add two Quarts of Sack or White-wine to fine it: Raisins of the Sun will do as well as Malaga, if they cannot be had.

A Collection of Above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery: For the Use of All Good Wives, Tender Mothers, and Careful Nurses,

by Mary Kettilby (1734)

A plain Sage Cheese. Bruise the tops of young red sage [Salvia miltiorrhiza] in a mortar, till you can press the juice out of them; bruise likewise some leaves of spinage, and having squeezed out the juice, mix it with that of the sage to render it of a pleasant green colour, which the juice of the sage alone will not make it, and this will also allay the bitter taste of the sage.

Having prepared the juice, put the rennet to the milk, and at the same time mix with it as much of the sage, &c. juice as will give the milk the green colour you desire, putting in more or less of the sage juice to that of the spinage juice, according as you would have the cheese taste stronger or weaker of the sage.

When the curd is come, break it gently, and when it is all equally broken, put it into the cheese vat or mote, and press it gently, which will make it eat tender and mellow: when it has stood in the press about eight hours it must be salted.

A Sage Cheese in Figures. To do this you must be provided with two cheese vats of the same size, and the milk must be set to turn in two different vessels; one part with plain rennet only, and the other with rennet and sage juice. These must be made as you would do two distinct cheeses, and put into the presses at the same time. When each of these cheeses have stood in the press for half an hour, take them out, and cut some square pieces or long slips out of the plain cheese, and lay them by on a plate; then cut the same number of pieces out of the sage cheese of the same figure and size, and immediately put the pieces of the sage cheese into

the the places that you cut out of the plain cheese, and the pieces cut out of the plain cheese into the places cut out of the sage cheese; for this purpose some have a tin plate made into figures of several shapes, by which they cut out the pieces of the cheeses so exactly, that they fit without any trouble. Having done this, they put the cheeses into the presses again, and manage them like common cheeses; and so there will be one sage cheese with white or plain figures in it, and another a white cheese with green figures in it.

Great care must be taken that the curd be very equally broke, and also that both the cheeses be pressed as equally as it is possible before the figures are cut out, or otherwise when they come to be pressed for the last time, the figures will press unequally, and lofe their shapes. These cheeses should be made not above two inches thick; for if they are thicker, it will be more difficult to make the figures regular.

These cheeses must after they are made be frequently turned and shifted on the shelf, and often rubbed with a coarse cloth. They will be fit to be eaten in about eight months.

Every Woman Her Own House-keeper; Or, The Ladies' Library: Containing the Cheapest and Most Extensive System of Cookery Ever Offered to the Public. ...

Also, The Family Physician; Or, A Complete Body of Domestic Medicine,

by John Perkins (1796)

A Pink or Yellow Luncheon Today?

Yesterday’s post hinted at the delights of a pink-themed luncheon or “tea” for ladies young and old, but it fell short of giving you an actual menu. As I noted yesterday, colour-themed meals were all the rage in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries amongst the well-to-do – and as we all know, what the idle rich do, the not-so-rich aspire to. The Washington Post in the first decades of the 20^th century ran a regular “Housewife’s Daily Economy Calendar”, and in the edition of February 26, 1913, the topic was “An Inexpensive Luncheon.” The article gave some menu suggestions not only for a pink luncheon, but also a yellow luncheon. Sadly, costs have risen considerably over the last one hundred years, but the menus tell the story:

The woman who refrains from entertaining just because she has little money to spend  makes a mistake. The amount of money expended on a luncheon is no gauge of the amount of enjoyment those who partake of it will get. A luncheon for six can be prepared of food which costs only a dollar. Fifty cents more furnishes a more interesting meal, and  provides table decorations as well.

A PINK LUNCHEON FOR $1.50

The woman who wants to entertain five friends for $1.50 may work out the following menu: Fruit in cups, jellied beef loaf and scalloped potatoes, quince or crabapple jelly, bread and butter, celery and apple salad, and charlotte russe.

The table can be decorated with 10 cents’ worth of pink crepe paper. If the hostess knows how to do it she can make lovely roses, one to lie by the side of each plate (the green paper for the stems cost on ly 1 cent), and she can cover small paper patty cases with petal-like pieces of the pink paper and use them for the charlotte russe.

A ten-cent bottle of maraschino cherries helps carry out the color scheme, and so does a glass of jelly, for which 10 cents is allowed. If the jelly is homemade it will cost less, and if it is bought it may cost more, but there may also be variation in the prices of some of the other foods, and so the jelly will be possible. Ten cents is allowed for bread and butter, and  so, 30 cents for food and 10 cents for decorations is used.

Two grapefruits, two oranges, and sugar cost a quarter. The fruit is removed from  the skin and decorated with the cherries. The beef  loaf is made from 20 cents’ worth of shank of beef, simmered for five or six hours until the meat falls from the bone, then shredded and cut into small pieces, put in a tin to mold, and covered with the liquid in which it boiled, seasoned, and boiled down to about a pint. This should be made the day before, so that it will jelly. Five cents is allowed for potatoes and as much for butter and milk for the scalloped potatoes. Ten cents is allowed for the mayonnaise, 8 cents for the lettuce, 2 cents for apples, 5 cents for the inside of a stalk of celery. These expenditures bring the total up to $1.20.

ANOTHER SUGGESTION.

Another $1.50 lunch could be carried out in yellow. The decorations could be 20 cents’ worth of daffodils. The menu could consist of cream of celery soup, 20 cents, rice and veal croquettes, 50 cents, new carrots, diced, 10 cents, creamed potatoes, 10 cents, pineapple and macaroons, 30 cents. Ten cents is allowed for bread and butter.

And the recipe for the day is ….

Scalloped Potatoes.

Put a lay of sliced cold boiled potatoes in the bottom of buttered pudding dish, sprinkle with crumbs and bits of butte. Put in another layer of potatoes and more crumbs until dish is full, having the topmost layer buttered crumbs. Moisten all by pouring in carefully a cupful of seasoned white stock. Bake 20 minutes.

Newport Daily News (Rhode Island) September 8, 1914

A “Pink Tea” on the Bottom of the Sea.

A reporter at the Los Angeles Times in 1912 appeared almost breathless with excitement at the sheer novelty of an upcoming society event.  I give you part of an article which appeared in the edition of February 1 in that year.

Oh, Splash!

PINK TEA ON SEA’S BOTTOM.

Strangest Fete in History Planned at Catalina

--

Eighty Social Leaders to Sport With Fishes.

--

Dainty Buds in Diving Suits in Deep Green Water.

--

Details of the most remarkable social function in recorded history became known yesterday with the announcement that eighty of the most prominent society women of Los Angeles, Pasadena, and San Francisco are planning a submarine fete, to be held on the bottom of the ocean, off Catalina Island, in the early part of March.

The guests are to be attired in diving suits, each provided with individual oxygen tanks or air tubes. Dainty debutantes, their tresses tightly bound about their heads, and their heads enclosed in huge copper helmets will promenade in the ocean’s floor with six pounds of lead on the sole of each pink foot and their fetching selves encased from top to toe in thick, close-fitting suits of rubber.

Bejeweled society leaders, whose names, at least, are familiar to the readers of every Sunday newspaper on the Coast, with foregather under forty feet of green water and exchange social amenities in sign language, while amazed minnows peer through the windows of the ladies’ helmets and friendly dolphins bump to and fro amongst the members of the party, and goldfish bubble about in an excess of enjoyment of the occasion.

… Instead of the stereotyped roses the favors will be shining sprays of sea-weed and sea tomatos, made into neat rosettes by impaling upon the spines of  the sea porcupine. To those whose tastes run in the direction of natural history, crumbs will be provided wherewith to feed bigger goldfish than most of the party will ever have seen before.

“Pink Teas” were a fashionable form of entertaining at the time for society ladies with large amounts of disposable income, too much time to fill, and many other society ladies to impress. The fun was ensured by the pink theme – the ladies wore pink, the flowers and décor were as pink as could be, and for extreme theme interpretations, the food was also pink. Sadly, very sadly, I have been unable (so far) to find out any more details of this particular underwater event – always assuming of course that it did in fact take place as planned.

We briefly considered Pink Teas in a previous post (here) but you will need more than a single recipe for raspberry fritters if you are to hold your own pink event. I cannot help you with advice about under-sea venues, but I can give you some suitably coloured foods.

Pink Cream Soup.

Put into a saucepan one and a half tablespoons each of butter and flour; stir on the fire until smooth, then add by degrees three pints milk and boil up. Season with a level teaspoonful of salt and a pinch of grated nutmeg. Color pink with one and one-half tablespoons boiled beets run through a sieve. Marrow balls: One tablespoon finely cut marrow, three tablespoons fine bread crumbs, one teaspoon chopped parsley, salt and pepper to taste. Work into a smooth paste, adding a raw egg to help render it smooth; form into a ball size of a filbert; drop into boiling water; cook fifteen minutes. Serve in the soup five balls to the plate.

Los Angeles Times Cook Book No. 2 (c1905)

Pink Cream Cake.

Take three eggs and one cup of pulverized sugar, two cups of flour and two teaspoonfuls of baking 
powder, sifted twice. Color with fruit coloring. Bake in three layers and fill with whipped cream, sweetened to taste and flavored. Must be eaten the same day. Keep in ice-chest. Use about a teaspoonful of Dr. Price's fruit coloring, and if not sufficiently colored, add more. Color the dough only.

"Aunt Babette's" Cook Book: Foreign and domestic receipts for the household: A vaulable collection of receipts and hints for the housewife, many of which are not to be found elsewhere.

(Cincinnati, c1889)

The German Submariner’s Bill of Fare, 1916

I don’t need to search my archive of posts to find out if I have previously written on the subject of submarine food – I am quite certain that I have not! Today I give you a short extract from World War I story entitled LIFE IN A GERMAN SUBMARINE: CAPTURED SKIPPER’S ADVENTURES SPECIAL ACCOUNT, which appeared in the Peking Gazette on June 10, 1916. Naturally I have extracted the information on the daily bill of fare aboard the submarine!

The following which is reproduced from the “Times” is an account, as related by Captain Norberg, of the Norwegian barque Lindfield, of the experiences of himself and his crew on board a German submarine after their ship has been torpedoed.

The prisoners got the same food as the submarine crew. Here is the bill of fare. Breakfast consisted of coffee, black bread, butter, sugar, condensed milk, and sausages. A similar meal was served at 4 o’clock and again at 6.30 p.m., except that in the latter case there was tea instead of coffee, and sardines in addition. Luncheon on Saturday consisted of a stew of mutton, vegetables, and potatoes boiled together. On Sunday there was fresh meat and potatoes, with preserved plums as dessert. On Monday the midday meal was of rice and sausages.

Cooking aboard a submarine must be a special challenge indeed. I had never thought about it before, but on brief reflection, in the light of this story,I now have the greatest respect for deep-sea cooks.

Many things go by the name of “German Sausages,” some good, some not so good. I somehow doubt that the sausages served to the seamen in the newspaper story were not so fine as those in today’s recipe:-

German Sausages.

Take the crumb of a small loaf, a pound of suet, half a lamb's lights, parsley, thyme, marjoram, and onion, minced small, and season it with salt and pepper; these must be stuffed in a sheep's gut, and fried in melted suet: they are only fit for immediate use.

The Complete Economical Cook, and Frugal Housewife (London, 1837) by Mary Holland.

College Words for College Food.

Today’s story is a nice sequel to Friday’s post on meals (and beer) at Yale in the mid-eighteenth century. I came across some new-old food words (you know how I love those!) while researching the Yale story, and I want to share them with you. The source of the following extract on college food and food terms is A Collection of College Words and Customs (1856) by Benjamin Homer Hall.

SIZE. Food and drink from the buttery, aside from the regular dinner at commons.

“A size,” says Minsheu, “is a portion of bread or drinke, it is a farthing which schollers in Cambridge have at the buttery; it is noted with the letter S. as in Oxford with the letter Q. for halfe a farthing; and whereas they say in Oxford, to battle in the Buttery Booke, i. e. to set downe on their names what they take in bread, drinke, butter, cheese, &c.; so, in Cambridge, they say, to size, i.e. to set downe their quantum, i.e. how much they take on their name in the Buttery Booke.”

In the Poems of the Rev. Dr. Dodd, a size of bread is described as “half a half-penny ‘roll’.” Grose, also, in the Provincial Glossary, says "it signifies the half part of a halfpenny loaf, and comes from scindo, I cut."

In the Encyclopaedia Britannica is the following explanation of this term. “A size of anything is the smallest quantity of that thing which can be thus bought” [i.e. by students in addition to their commons in the hall]; “two sizes, or a part of beef, being nearly equal to what a young person will eat of that dish to his dinner, and a size of ale or beer being equal to half an English pint.” It would seem, then, that formerly a size was a small plateful of any eatable; the word now means anything had by students at dinner over and above the usual commons.

Of its derivation Webster remarks, “Either contracted from assize, or from the Latin scissus. I take it to be from the former, and from the sense of setting, as we apply the word to the assize of bread.”

This word was introduced into the older American colleges from Cambridge, England, and was used for many years, as was also the word sizing, with the same meaning. In 1750, the Corporation of Harvard College voted, ‘that the quantity of commons be as hath been usual, viz. two sizes of bread in the morning; one pound of meat at dinner, with sufficient sauce [vegetables], and a half-pint of beer; and at night that a part pie be of the same quantity as usual, and also half a pint of beer; and that the supper messes be but of four parts, though the dinner messes be of six.’ — Quincy's Hist. Harv. Coll., Vol. II. p. 97.

The students of that day, if we may judge from the accounts which we have of their poor commons, would have used far different words, in addressing the Faculty, from King Lear, who, speaking to his daughter Regan, says : —

"'Tis not in thee

To grudge my pleasures, ……

….. to scant my sizes."

SIZE. In the University of Cambridge, Eng., to size is to order any sort of victuals from the kitchens which the students may want in their rooms, or in addition to their commons in the hull, and for which they pay the cooks or butchers at the end of each quarter; a word corresponding to Battel at Oxford. — Encyc. Brit.

In the Gentleman's Magazine, 1795, p. 21, a writer says: “At dinner, to size is to order for yourself any little luxury that may chance to tempt you in addition to the general fare, for which you are expected to pay the cook at the end of the term.”

This word was formerly used in the older American colleges with the meaning given above, as will be seen by the following extracts from the laws of Harvard and Yale.

"When they come into town after commons, they may be allowed to size a meal at the kitchen." — Laws of Harv. Coll., 1798, p. 39.

"At the close of each quarter, the Butler shall make up his bill against each student, in which every article sized or taken up by him at the Buttery shall be particularly charged." — Laws Yale Coll., 1811, p. 31.

"As a college term," says the Gradus ad Cantabrigiam, "it is of very considerable antiquity. In the comedy called 'The Return from Parnassus,' 1606, one of the characters says, 'You that are one of the Devil's Fellow-Commoners; one that sizeth the Devil's butteries,' &c. Again, in the same: 'Fidlers, I use to size my music, or go on the score for it.'"

For is often used after the verb size, without changing the meaning of the expression.

The tables of the Undergraduates, arranged according to their respective years, are supplied with abundance of plain joints, and vegetables, and beer and ale ad libitum, besides which, soup, pastry, and cheese can be "sized for," that is, brought in portions to individuals at an extra charge. — Bristed's Five Years in an Eng. Univ., Ed. 2d, p. 19.

To size upon another. To order extra food, and without permission charge it to another's account.

If any one shall size upon another, he shall be fined a Shilling, and pay the Damage; and every Freshman sent [for victuals] must declare that he who sends him is the only Person to be charged. — Laws Yale Coll., 1774, p. 10.

SIZING. Extra food or drink ordered from the buttery; the act of ordering extra food or drink from the buttery.

Dr. Holyoke, who graduated at Harvard College in 1746, says: "The breakfast was two sizings of bread and a cue of beer." Judge Wingate, who graduated a little later, says: "We were allowed at dinner a cue of beer, which was a half-pint, and a sizing of bread, which I cannot describe to you. It was quite sufficient for one dinner." — Peirce's Hist. Harv. Univ., p. 219.

From more definite accounts it would seem that a sizing of biscuit was one biscuit, and a sizing of cracker, two crackers. A certain amount of food was allowed to each mess, and if any person wanted more than the allowance, it was the custom to tell the waiter to bring a sizing of whatever was wished, provided it was obtained from the commons kitchen; for this payment was made at the close of the term. A sizing of cheese was nearly an ounce, and a sizing of cider varied from a half-pint to a pint and a half.

The Steward shall, at the close of every quarter, immediately fill up the columns of commons and sizings, and shall deliver the bill, &c. — Laws Harv. Coll., 1798, p. 58.

The Butler shall frequently inspect his book of sizings. —Ibid., p. 62.

Whereas young scholars, to the dishonor of God, hinderance of their studies, and damage of their friends' estate, inconsiderately and intemperately are ready to abuse their liberty of sizing besides their commons; therefore the Steward shall in no ease permit any students whatever, under the degree of Masters of Arts, or Fellows, to expend or bo provided for themselves or any townsmen any extraordinary commons, unless by the allowance of the President, &c., or in case of sickness. — Orders written 28th March, 1600. — Quincy's Hist. Harv. Univ, Vol. I. p. 583.

This term, together with the verb and noun size, which had been in use at Harvard and Yale Colleges since their foundation, has of late been little heard, and with the extinction of commons has, with the others, fallen wholly, and probably for ever, into disuse.

The use of this word and its collaterals is still retained in the University of Cambridge, Eng.

Along the wall you see two tables, which, though less carefully provided than the Fellows', are still served with tolerable decency, and go through a regular second course instead of the "sizings." — Brisled's Five Years in an Eng. Univ., Ed. 2d, p. 20.

SIZING PARTY. In the University of Cambridge, Eng., where this term is used, a "sizing party" says the Gradus ad Cantabrigiam, "differs from a supper in this; viz. at a sizing party every one of the guests contributes his part, i.e. orders what he pleases, at his own expense, to his friend's rooms, —'a part of fowl' or duck; a roasted pigeon;  a part of apple pie.' A sober beaker of brandy, or rum, or hollands and water, concludes the entertainment. In our days, a bowl of bishop, or milk punch, with a chant, generally winds up the carousal."

Today’s recipe, to get you in Sizing Party mood, is for a fine bowl of bishop. The instructions come from Oxford Night Caps, a collection of receipts for making various beverages; being a collection of receipts for making various beverages used in the University (1827) by Richard Cook.

Bishop, or Spiced Wine.

Three cups of this a prudent man may take,

The first of these for constitution's sake,

The second to the girl he loves the best,

The third and last to lull him to his rest.

Ancient Fragment.

BlSHOP seems to be one of the oldest winter beverages known, and to this day is preferred to every other, not only by the youthful votary of Bacchus at his evening's revelry, but also by the grave Don by way of a night cap; and probably derives its name from the circumstance of ancient dignitaries of the Church, when they honoured the University with a visit, being regaled with spiced wine. It appears from a work published some years since, and entitled, Oxoniana, or Anecdotes of the University of Oxford, that in the Rolls or Accounts of some Colleges of ancient foundation, a sum of money is frequently met with charged "pro speciebus," that is, for spices used in their entertainments; for in those days as well as the present, spiced wine was a very fashionable beverage. In the Computus of Maxtoke Priory, anno 1447, is the following curious entry; "Item pro vino cretico cum speciebus et confectis datis diversis generosis in die Sancti Dionysii quando Le fole domini Montfordes erat hie, et faceret jocositates suas in camera Orioli." "Vinum creticum" is supposed to be raisin wine, or wine made of dried grapes; and the meaning of the whole seems to be this: Paid for raisin wine with comfits and spices, when Sir S. Montford's fool was here, and exhibited his merriments in the Oriel chamber.

Recipe.

Make several incisions in the rind of a lemon, stick cloves in the incisions, and roast the lemon by a slow fire. Put small but equal quantities of cinnamon, cloves, mace, and all-spice, and a race of ginger, into a saucepan, with half a pint of water; let it boil until it is reduced one half. Boil one bottle of port wine; burn a portion of the spirit out of it, by applying a lighted paper to the saucepan. Put the roasted lemons and spice into the wine; stir it up well, and let it stand near the fire ten minutes. Rub a few knobs of sugar on the rind of a lemon, put the sugar into a bowl or jug, with the juice of half a lemon, (not roasted,) pour the wine upon it, grate some nutmeg into it, sweeten it to your taste, and serve it up with the lemon and spice floating in it.

Oranges, although not used in Bishop at Oxford, are, as will appear by the following lines, written by Swift, sometimes introduced into that beverage. 

Fine oranges Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup, They'll make a sweet Bishop when gentlefolks sup.

Yale's Use of Beer in 1741.

According to a letter published in The New York Times of 22 March, 1936, the bill of fare at ‘commons’ for undergraduate students at Yale in 1741 included beer. The writer of the letter (and the previous correspondent who initiated the discussion) seemed to think that this was rather curious and therefore worthy of note, but in actual fact, beer was a common beverage for everyone at the time. 

The beer notwithstanding, the students’ bill of fare was, on the whole, pretty dreary. Pity the poorer students who could not afford to supplement their meagre commons.  

Yale's Use of Beer.

To the Editor of The New York Times:

It was recently stated in THE NEW YORK TIMES that Professor Samuel E. Morison of Harvard University has discovered that beer was regularly served to Harvard undergraduates in the early days of the college.

In Dexter’s “Yale Biographies and Annals” it is recorded that in 1741 the trustees of Yale College drew up a bill of fare for the commons, as follows:

“For Breakfast: one loaf of bread for 4 [persons], which [the dough] shall weigh one pound.”

“For Dinner for 4: one loaf of bread as aforesaid: 2 ½ pounds of beef, veal, or mutton, or 1 ¾ pounds of salt pork about twice a week in the summertime; one quart of beer; two pennyworth of sauce.”

“For Supper for 4: two quarts of milk and one loaf of bread, when milk can conveniently be had; and when it cannot, then an apple-pie, which shall be made of 1 ¾ pounds of dough, ¼ pound hot’s fat, two ounces sugar, and one peck of apples.”

President Clap’s itemized expense account of the building of Connecticut Hall (1750-1752) shows ₤67 13s. expended for strong drinks.

                                                            RONALD C. MARSH

Yale University, March 16, 1936.

I spent some fruitless time following a Google Books snippet view of a recipe for “Yale Pudding” to supplement this story, only to find, when I finally tracked down a complete version of the document, that it was in fact, “Yule Pudding.”  Damn you, Google Snippet, with your tantalizingly inaccurate OCR. The recipe won’t be wasted of course – look out for it next Christmas. Such is the life of a playful food historian. 

There being no Yale Pudding, I give you Yale Pie. I have absolutely no idea how or why this fine dish is connected to Yale, but I am pretty sure it will be a fine addition to the provisions for your next water excursion.

Yale Boat Pie.

Lay three or four pounds of steak from the undercut of a round of beef, in a middling sized dish, having seasoned it with pepper and salt. Have a couple of chickens at hand, cut in pieces and seasoned; place them upon the steak, and over them one dozen and a half of fresh fat oysters, without the liquor. Add half a dozen fresh, hard boiled eggs, and after damping the bottom of the dish with half a pint of strong ale, cover the whole with fresh mushrooms, adding to these half a pound of glaze or plain neatsfoot-jelly; lay over the dish a substantial paste, and bake in a brisk oven. This pie is excellent for a picnic or water excursion.

Jennie June's American Cookery Book (1866)