Nineteenth Century Ideas for Carrots.

Old cookery books commonly advise that vegetables should be cooked for an hour or two, and this can cause a great deal of amusement and not a little disdain on the part of modern readers. I do remember, however, once upon a time a long time ago, in another land, being served carrots which could have benefitted from a couple of hours cooking to soften up the dense fibrous cores!

In fact, vegetables today are different from those of previous times, thanks to horticulturalists for producing more tender varieties, agriculturalists for improved cultivation practices, and technologists for improved storage methods. No longer does an autumn crop of root vegetables have to be stored in cellars and the like to last us throughout winter – and were more likely to survive this time if they were bigger, older, and tougher to start with.

To most of us, whether it is a good thing or not, the only carrots we have access to are small, young, tender, and require little cooking.

“Seasonal” means very little today as it applies to carrots, but Mrs. Beeton, in her Book of Household Management (1861) gives advice about boiling times for big and small carrots.

Boiled Carrots.

Ingredients.- To each ½ gallon of water, allow one heaped tablespoonful of salt; carrots.

Mode.—Cut off the green tops, wash and scrape the carrots, and should there be any black specks, remove them. If very large, cut them in halves, divide them lengthwise into four pieces, and put them into boiling water, salted in the above proportion; let them boil until tender, which may be ascertained by thrusting a fork into them: dish, and serve very hot. This vegetable is an indispensable accompaniment to boiled beef. When thus served, it is usually boiled with the beef; a few carrots are placed round the dish as a garnish, and the remainder sent to table in a vegetable-dish. Young carrots do not require nearly so much boiling, nor should they be divided: these make a nice addition to stewed veal, &c.

Time.—Large carrots, 1 ¾ to 2 ¼ hours; young ones, about ½ hour.

Average cost, 6d. to 8d. per bunch of 18.

Sufficient.—4 large carrots for 5 or 6 persons.

Seasonable. — Young carrots from April to July, old ones at any time.

Carrots of course are inherently starchy and sweet, and have never been used exclusively to fill up the soup pot or accompany the beef, but have always been used to make non-savoury dishes too. Carrot jam was common before it had its time in the limelight as a wartime substitute for the preferred fruit version. My favourite mid-nineteenth century source last week has no less than five versions, with differing flavourings:

Carrot Jam.

No. 1.—Boil the carrots soft enough to be eaten, then peel and mash them; weigh equal carrot and sugar (lump) ; make a syrup of the sugar by first boiling it with a little water, put in the carrot and boil until the jam (when cold) will shape and is stiff.

No. 2.—Boil a few fresh carrots quite tender, rub them through a colander, and afterwards through a sieve; then to every pound of pulp add a pound of loaf sugar, and boil it to a jam. When nearly cold add the juice of two lemons and the rind grated very fine. Choose deep-coloured carrots, and use good sugar. When the lemon-juice and rind are well mixed put it into jars and cover with brandied paper.

No. 3.—Pare some good carrots, and to every 10lb. add 1 ½ pints of cold water; cover them close in the preserving-pan, and let them boil till the fruit will mash with a spoon. To every pound of fruit put 3/4 lb. of loaf sugar. Keep the carrots well stirred, to prevent burning; let it boil till it will set firm. To imitate apricot jam, put a few bruised kernels of apricots to flavour.

No. 4.—Take 5 lb. of carrots, clean them, and boil until quite soft, as for dinner. Mash them very fine, rub through a wire-sieve, boil the pulp again with 5 lb. of sugar twenty minutes, add the juice of two lemons whilst boiling. Then take it off the fire, and stir in 1oz. of tartaric acid, and ½ pint of orange wine.

No. 5.—Take a pound of carrots, boil them till quite soft, strain the water from them, mash them to a fine pulp; add ½ lb. sugar and the peel of a candied lemon, and boil together for half an hour.

The Country House, a collection of useful information and recipes, ed. by I.E.B.C. (1866)

And finally, I give you a couple more nineteenth century recipes for carrots, this time from a Scottish cookery book:

German Carrots.

Take six ordinary -sized Altringham carrots, scrape well, cut down in small pieces about three inches long, put them in boiling water, and boil for twenty minutes. Have a sauce made with one table-spoonful of fine minced parsley boiled in a tea-cupful of good white stock, one onion peeled and stuck full of cloves, two blades of mace, and one tea-spoonful of sugar; boil all for fifteen minutes, then pick out the onion and the mace, knead a small piece of butter and flour, and add to the stock, shake till it boils, add one table-spoonful of cream, cayenne, and salt to taste. Drain the carrots, and build them up as high as possible in a corner-dish with the point of a fork; then pour the hot sauce over them, and garnish with parsley and beetroot.

Carrot Pudding.

Have six good red carrots, cleaned and boiled in water, and a little salt; then lay them in cold water for a few minutes; then grate one dessert-plateful of the outsides, beat up five eggs with a quarter of a pound of sugar; add two table-spoonfuls of marmalade. Mix carrots and all together, put into a buttered shape, and steam it for two hours. Serve with a brandy sauce.

The Practice of Cookery and Pastry by Mrs. I. Williamson (Edinburgh, 1862)

Gingered Lettuce or Lettuce as Ginger?

If you want to know how to restore ostrich feathers, how to cure chapped hands, how to make a barometer and how to perform many other useful domestic skills, you need go no further than the book I introduced you to last week - The Country House: A Collection of Useful Information and Recipes Adapted to the Country Gentleman and His Household … (1866.)  Sadly, it must be admitted that much of the advice in this fine book is redundant today – but thankfully, not all of it, and there are a few ideas which are perhaps ripe for re-discovery. How about preserving lettuce? I don’t believe I have seen a recipe for preserved lettuce in any modern cookery books I have seen recently but The Country House has two to choose from.

In truth, these are recipes for mock ginger.

Lettuce Ginger.

Peel off the outer coat of the tender stalks of shot lettuce; cut in 1 in. or 2 in. lengths; throw it into water; for each 1 lb. throw in a teaspoonful of cayenne pepper, and a little salt. Let it stand two days. Strain and wash in clean water. Clarify an equal weight of fine loaf-sugar. Take 1 ½ oz. of good ginger for every 1 lb.; soak it in boiling water and slice it; boil with the sugar fifteen minutes. Pour it boiling hot over the lettuce, which must be well drained. Keep back the ginger, which boil with the syrup three times (at intervals of two or three days), and pour boiling hot on the lettuce. At the last boiling add the juice of two or three lemons. If the syrup is allowed to cool, it spoils the colour of the ginger.

Lettuce, to Preserve.

Take the stalks of white cos-lettuce, when tender and not stringy; skin it and cut it in pieces; blanch it in water two or three days. Make a thin syrup, to a quart of which add 3oz. of sliced ginger; when cold pour it on the lettuce. Boil up the syrup every other day for a fortnight, and at the last time make it thick, and add lemon-peel. The syrup will require to be boiled up often, and reduced or strengthened as found necessary.

As it turns out, recipes for making mock ginger with lettuce stalks are quite common in nineteenth century cookery books. The following example gives more detailed instructions, and is quite clear about the aim being to produce imitation ginger.

To preserve lettuce.

Take about three dozen of tender shot lettuces, peel, cut in pieces about three inches long, and throw into a basin of cold water as you do it. When it is all done, put it on the fire in a brass pan, shake in half a pound of ground ginger, let it boil two minutes, take it off, pour it carefully into a jar, and let it stand for two days ; give it another boil for two minutes, and return it to the jar another day. Put on six pounds of sugar in a brass pan, with a quart of cold water; let it boil for ten minutes, then take the lettuce out of the ginger-water, and wash in cold water; then put it into the boiling syrup, let it boil briskly for five minutes, take it off and pour carefully into the jar. Repeat the boiling until it is clear, allowing a day or two between each time; but before boiling the third time, put on six pounds of loaf-sugar with an English pint of cold water, in a brass pan; let it boil briskly for ten minutes, then pour all together. In the last boiling put in an ounce of the essence of ginger, some shred ginger, and two dozen of cayenne pods, tied in a muslin cloth. When you pot it up, you must let the shred ginger and the cayenne pods lie on the top. This is a beautiful imitation of foreign ginger.

The Practice of Cookery and Pastry by Mrs. I. Williamson (Edinburgh, 1862)

Hot Sauce: some recipes from history.

As I hinted yesterday, I am not going to abandon my new favourite historical cookery book just yet. The book (The Country House: A Collection of Useful Information and Recipes … published in 1866,) has fed another of my addictions – hot sauce. It has no less than six recipes for sauces which contain a generous hit of chilli (in the form of cayenne pepper.)

Hot sauces come in various forms, including ‘devils’ and curries as well as bottled condiments. The British undoubtedly developed their taste for fiery dishes as a result of their colonial activities in India.  

The following recipe comes from a wonderful British Colonial cookery book with the full title of Indian Domestic Economy and Receipt Book: Comprising Numerous Directions for Plain Wholesome Cookery, Both Oriental and English, with Much Miscellaneous Matter, Answering All General Purposes of Reference Connected with Household Affairs Likely to be Immediately Required by Families, Messes, and Private Individuals, Residing at the Presidencies Or Out-stations (Madras, 1860.)

Tapp’s Sauce

Take of green sliced mangoes, salt, sugar and raisins each eight ounces; red chillies and garlic each four ounces; green ginger six ounces; vinegar three bottles; lime-juice one pint. Pound the several ingredients well; then add the vinegar and lime juice; stop the vessel close, and expose it to the sun a whole month, stirring or shaking it well daily; then strain it through a cloth, bottle and cork it tight. Obs.—The residue makes an excellent chutney.

But back to The Country House. My favourite from amongst the sextet of hot sauce recipes is number one, which is interesting because it contains a goodly amount of nasturtium flowers.

HOT SAUCE. No. 1.—A pint of nasturtium flowers (Tropœolum maius), a quart of vinegar, 4 teaspoonfuls of Cayenne pepper, 4 cloves of garlic, and 8 eschalots. Put the flowers, garlic, eschalots, and pepper, into a pickle jar, and pour the vinegar boiling hot upon them, and cover it up for a week or ten days; after which, strain off through a cloth, as you would ketchup. It will improve by being kept a little.

Condiments as an ingredient for condiments seems to be another particular favourite of the British. Other recipes for hot sauce in The Country House include walnut ketchup or pickle, mushroom ketchup, anchovy sauce, and soy sauce. Number five is a bit stingy with the garlic to my mind:

No. 5.—One clove (not a whole head) of garlic, ½ oz. cayenne, 1 dr. cochineal in a muslin bag, 1 table-spoonful of china soy, 4 ditto of walnut pickle, 1 pint of best vinegar; mix all together, let it remain one week, and then bottle for use.

There is an interesting difference between British and American recipes for chilli sauce at this time. The American version is much more likely to be based on tomatoes, as in all three of the versions in Mrs. Cronkite’s Cook Book containing over seven hundred useful and practical recipes for …. (Sacramento, 1885)

CHILLI SAUCE.——Take half a gallon of ripe tomatoes, six onions and six red peppers. Chop them together and add one quart of vinegar, three tablespoonfuls of brown sugar, two tablespoonfuls of salt, two teaspoonfuls each, of ground cloves, cinnamon, ginger, allspice and nutmeg. Boil all together for one hour; then strain through a sieve, and bottle for use. This is an excellent sauce, and considered by some, equal to Worcestershire sauce.

CHILLI SAUCE NO. 2.—Take ripe, red tomatoes, scald, peel and boil them to a pulp; when cool enough to handle, rub through a sieve, and to two quarts of the pulp, add one teaspoonful of

salt, and one quart of Chilli vinegar*, when cold it is ready for use. It should be bottled, corked and sealed.

* CHILLI VINEGAR.—Pound one hundred small red Chilli peppers, and pour over them a quart of

white wine vinegar, put it in bottles, cork tightly, and let it stand fourteen days when it will be ready for use.

CHILLI SAUCE NO. 3.—One dozen, large, ripe tomatoes, peeled and sliced, six onions chopped fine, six tablespoonfuls of brown sugar, two tablespoonfuls of ginger, two teaspoonfuls of cinnamon, two of cloves, four of vinegar, one of red pepper. Boil two hours, seal in bottles.

And finally, a chilli sauce that is not a condiment, but a regular sauce for immediate consumption:

Chilli Sauce.

Chop a shallot and two chillies (guinea pepper-pod); put them in a saucepan with an ounce of butter, and fry slightly; add two raw peeled and seedless tomatoes cut fine, two pared and sliced green limes, a glass of catawba wine, and half a pint of velouté sauce; stir and reduce to the consistency of a sauce, and finish with two ounces of butter and chopped parsley; boil no longer.

The Franco-American cookery book; or, How to live well and wisely every day

 in the year .. Déliée, Felix J. (1884)

I assume ‘catawba’ wine is wine made from the Catawba grape? Help me out here, please, my American friends!

A Beverage for your Pocket Flask (1866)

A single recipe can speak volumes about an era and a way of life, and a country. Don’t believe me? Then convince me that the following recipe speaks of anything other than life ("Upstairs" of course) in Victorian England:

Beverage for the Pocket Flask.

Melt or dissolve by a gentle heat l oz. of black currant jelly in pint of syrup; when cold, add the same quantity of rum. In summer the above is best; for the winter months, do as follows :—Pick fine dry black currants, put them into a stone jar, and then the jar in a saucepan of boiling water till the juice is extracted; strain, and to every pint add ½ lb. of loaf sugar; give one boil, and skim well; when cold add the same quantity of rum (or gin, if you prefer it), shake well, and bottle.

The Country House: A Collection of Useful Information and Recipes … by I.E.B.C. (1866)

Need more convincing? The following recipes are from the same source:

Shooting Drink.

Milk and whisky; quantity according to taste, the less spirit the better. It is food and drink both.

Smokers' Drink.

No. 1.—Place a large tumbler before you, put therein a coffee-cup of hot (very strong) Mocha coffee, pure, a piece of sugar according to taste (it ought not to be too sweet), a handsome dash of pure cognac, then fill the same up with pure cold water, and drink it after stirring it well up.

No. 2.—Lemon and water, with or without sugar.

Parting-Cup.

Put two or three slices of very brown toast in a bowl; grate over the same a little nutmeg; then pour in a quart of ale (milk preferable) and two-thirds of a bottle of sherry; sweeten with syrup, and (immediately before drinking) add a bottle of soda-water; a little clove or cinnamon may be added, if approved of.

The Country House is my new old cookery book crush, so be aware, I will be giving you a few more Upper Class Victorian Country treats over the next few days.

Carrot as a substitute for eggs?

Now here is an interesting idea: from the Adelaide Observer (South Australia), of 19 July 1845.

Carrots a Substitute for Eggs in Puddings.

It is not generally known, and will not, perhaps, be credited, when it is observed that boiled carrots, when properly prepared, form an admirable succedaneum for eggs in the making of puddings. They must, for this purpose, be well boiled and mashed, and afterwards passed through a coarse cloth, or horsehair sieve. The pulp, when thus cleared of any chance fibrous or granular matter, may be introduced among the other ingredients constituting the pudding, with the total omission of eggs, in a quantity proportionate to the size of the former. A pudding composed partly of the above material will be found to be considerably lighter than if the same had been made with eggs, and will impart a far more grateful and agreeable flavour. Upon the principle of economy, the above fact is well worthy the prudent housewife's attention, and there are some housekeepers, approved culinary practitioners too, who, in making their Christmas plum-puddings, adopt the recipe under notice in preference to using eggs for this purpose. Any person who will try the above experiment upon a small scale, will be fully satisfied with the justice of the remarks here submitted. —Sun.

Carrots as a substitute for eggs? I am intrigued, but slightly disbelieving. I have come across the concept before, in a recipe for carrot pudding from 1848 in which the author claimed that carrots have “something the properties of eggs, in being light.”

The idea was discussed in the American magazine Popular Science in May 1918, which seems to be sourced from wartime Food Conservation Notes. The author of the article goes so far as to say that puddings made with carrot instead of eggs were not only lighter, but more palatable. In spite of the name of the magazine however, no attempt was made to explain the phenomenon.

Carrots Used as a Substitute for Eggs in Puddings.

In these days of high prices, anything that can be used as a substitute, and give results at the same time, will be a welcome addition in helping to keep down the high cost of living. Boiled carrots, when properly treated, form an excellent substitute for eggs in puddings, etc. Boil the carrots until they are tender and nearly ready to fall apart; drain carefully, and mash and press through a coarse cloth or strainer. The pulp is then introduced among the other ingredients of the pudding, and the eggs totally omitted. Puddings made in this manner are lighter than where eggs are used, and are more palatable. The carrots also impart a fine yellow color to the pudding so that nobody can tell whether eggs were used or not.

Carrot pudding seems to have been quite a thing for a couple of centuries. I have previously given several recipes for carrot puddings (made with eggs) from 1744, 1774, and 1823, but if carrots could indeed substitute for eggs, it would be good news for the egg-allergic, and for vegans, perhaps. For those of us not so constrained or inclined, however, I would suggest that any carrot pudding made without eggs might be better made with them.

As the recipe for the day, in keeping with the secondary theme of carrots in sweet dishes, I give you a rather interesting and elegant (but not eggless) carrot “cake” which is really more of a pudding, from The Cook's Dictionary and House-keeper's Directory (1830) by Richard Dolby.

Carrot Cake.

Take a dozen large and very red carrots; scrape and boil them in water with a little salt; when done, drain them, take out the hearts, and rub the rest through a bolting; put them in a stewpan, and dry them over the fire. Make a cream pâtissière, with about half a pint of milk; and when done mix it with the carrots; add a pinch of minced orange-flowers pralinée, three quarters of a pound of powder-sugar, four whole eggs; put in, one at a time, the yolks of six more, and a quarter of a pound of melted butter; mix all these ingredients together well; whip up the six whites to a froth, and stir them in by degrees. Butter a mould, and put some crumb of bread in it, in a minute or two, turn out all the bread, and three quarters of an hour before the cake is wanted, pour the preparation into the mould and bake it. Serve it hot.

Things to do with Guavas.

Yesterday I gave you recipes for loquats, and today I give you recipes for guavas. It was a no-brainer easy choice for me, given that the article in the Los Angeles Times of May 8, 1902 which was the source of some of the loquat recipes, also included ideas for using guavas.

Firstly, a brief botany and history note. The guava (several cultivars of Psidium guajava) belongs to the Myrtle family. It is a tropical “New World” plant native native to Central and northern South America. Outside of the tropics, it is best known in the form of guava jelly. This was an important product of the colonial West Indies, and was exported in great amounts to Britain. Its popularity is attested in the following piece:

Tolpsey’s Account of a West India Planter’s Punch.

“He made his appearance with a respectably sized bowl, an enormous jug of boiling water, and a large paper bag filled with sugar. Our punch-maker then commenced operations, and having extracted from his secret store a bottle of his matchless rum, his limes, and a small pot of guava jelly, he brewed about a pint of green tea (2 oz.), and, the infusion finished, two-thirds of the sugar was dissolved in it. After the tea leaves had been thrown aside, the remainder of the sugar was rubbed on the lime ; Mr. Hamilton observing that the essential oil, which conveyed the exquisite flavour, was much more strongly diffused throughout the compound than when the skin was peeled; then the delicious acid of the fruit was added to the already impregnated sugar, and as soon as the several lumps had imbibed the proportions required, the guava jelly (and without this confection no punch can be pronounced perfect) was dissolved in a pint or so of boiling water. This done, the tea, the sweets, and the acids were commingled, and the foundation or sherbert tasted by the experienced palate of the grand compounder; six glasses of Cognac, two of Madeira, and the bottle of rum were added, and over all about a quart more of boiling water, and, as a finishing touch, the slightest possible sprinkling of nutmeg.

Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks (1869); by William Terrington.

So, let us start with a recipe for guava jelly:

Guava Jelly.

Select freshly-picked fruit, not quite ripe. Ripe guavas will not make jelly, and if too green there will not be enough juice. So much depends on the selecting. Put the guavas (5 or 10 lbs.) in granite kettle, and cover with cold water; boil for half an hour, mashing fruit to extract juice. Turn all into bag (white flannel is best) and let drip till all juice is extracted. If you wish a very clear jelly do not squeeze the bag. Then let it boil 10 or 15 minutes. Take from fire and measure; adding same quantity of sugar. When sugar is dissolved, boil until it forms a jelly, which can be told by the way it drops from the spoon, in a solid form, or by trying some in a saucer in a cold place. Pour in tumbler very quickly, as it hardens very fast. While still hot, take off blubbers from top. When cold, pour over each tumbler one or two teaspoonfuls melted paraffine.

Los Angeles Times; May 8, 1902.

The article also included the following interesting variation on a shortcake theme:

Guava Shortcake.

One quart of guavas cut fine; sprinkle with one cup of sugar, and let stand overnight, or several hours. Make short cake of one pint of flour, one heaping teaspoonful baking powder, a pinch of salt, and butter the size of an egg. Rub flour and butter well together and moisten with milk. Cut into four pieces, roll to fit jelly tins, using two tins. Place one piece of dough in each tin, spread well with butter; place others on top and bake in a quick oven. Separate layers and fill with the guavas, making two small or one large cake, as preferred. Serve with sugar and cream.

Los Angeles Times; May 8, 1902.

From Australian newspapers we have the following ideas:

Guava Vinegar.

In November last we ("Queensland Agricultural Journal”) were asked to give a recipe for making mango vinegar. We were not able to answer this question at the time, but we have found a recipe given in the "Journal of the Jamaica Agricultural Society" for making guava vinegar. Possibly this might be applicable to mangoes. This fruit should be well ripened. Wash and cut in halves, cover with plenty of water and simmer for two hours, strain through a colander, and then strain the juice through a bag. Bottle, and then tie muslin over the tops of the bottles. It requires about five months to turn into strong vinegar. In filling jars or bottles with juice, which is to make vinegar, remember, that it is well to leave space for plenty of air and only fill the receptacles about two-thirds.

Queensland Times, 5 February, 1916.

Guava Fluff.

This gelatine dish makes a delicious dessert for six servings. Ingredients:  1 lb. small red guavas (the larger variety can be substituted); 2 dessertspoons (1 ½ oz) gelatine (if setting in a refrigerator or ice chest 1 ½ dessertspoons is sufficient); 1 cup ( ½ lb.) sugar

I pint water.

Method: Wash guavas and place in a saucepan, after having pierced or broken at least half of them. Add ½ pint of water, then boil for 20 to 30 minutes, strain through a fine colander or sieve, and place the liquid (which should be about a pint) in a saucepan. Bring to boiling point and add sugar. Remove from the fire, and add gelatine which has been dissolved in ¼ cup of hot water. Leave until cold and then whisk with an egg

beater until thick and foamy. Place in a mould, which has been rinsed in cold water.

Nambour Chronicle and North Coast Advertiser (Qld) 25 July 1941

Things to do with Loquats.

Loquats are one of those things that you either know about or you don’t, that are available to you locally, or not, and that you like, loathe, or don’t know because you haven’t tasted them. Whichever groups you fit into, I hope you find something of interest here today.

The loquat (Eriobotryta japonica) comes from the same family as the rose. It is a native of eastern Asia – probably the mountainous regions of central China – and has been cultivated in Japan for over a millennium. Several of the common names for the fruit reflect these origins: it is sometimes known as the Chinese or Japanese plum or Japanese medlar.

The fruit is small with multiple relatively large seeds, but is thin-skinned and soft (which limits its transportability), juicy, and tangy-sweet. It can be eaten fresh, but because of its fragility, it can usually only be enjoyed this way by locals. The seeds do contain poisonous glycosides which in sufficient quantity can be deadly, so particular care should be taken with children who have access to the fruit.

Loquats lend themselves superbly to preservation in syrup, and in the form of jams and jellies, and no story on the use of the fruit would be complete without instructions for preparing these treats, so let’s get recipes for these out of the way first!

The loquat grows well in many parts of Australia, and the Sydney Morning Herald of 5 October, 1937 noted:

Loquats are "in." That statement means a lot to little boys, but it is even more significant to housewives. At present this fruit is so plentiful that many householders are finding a difficulty in using it up. Here are a few recipes that should help women cope with the loquat situation.

Loquat Jam.

First wash the loquats well, split and remove the stalks and seeds, and then weigh. To every pound of fruit allow one pound of sugar. Put the fruit into the preserving pan, covering with cold water. Next day boil slowly till quite soft; add the sugar, and boil again until a very rich colour, skimming very, carefully. Try a little on a plate, and, if it jellies, then it is done.

The Sydney Morning Herald of 5 October, 1937

Loquat Jelly.

Required: Loquats, water, sugar, lemon. Wash, top, and stem the loquats, cut them up, covering them with cold water. Boll for two hours. Strain and measure the juice, and to every pint allow one pound of sugar and half a lemon. Put in the preserving pan, and stir until the sugar melts. Then boil till it jellies.

Note: It is not necessary for the fruit to be quite ripe for these recipes

The Los Angeles Times of May 8, 1902 had a feature article on recipes for loquats, quavas, and figs. Naturally, it contained a recipe for making loquat jelly, and as the instructions are a bit more detailed than the above, I include it here:

Loquat Jelly.

In making any kind of jelly, use fruit which is just ripe – no more. Cut the blossom end from the loquats; wash or wipe with cloth and cut in half, using skin and seeds. Cover with cold water (about two inches above fruit) and boil slowly until soft. Put in coarse flannel bag and drain over night. Do not squeeze. In the morning, strain juice through muslin bag. Measure juice, and put on to boil, not more than six cupfuls at a time. When it has boiled up once, add equal measure of sugar, and boil rapidly until when dropped from a spoon into a little cold water, it will not run but drop heavily. Have glasses, previously rinsed out in cold water, standing on thick cloth wrung out of cold water. Pour jelly into glasses, hot but not foaming. Stand glasses, uncovered, out of draught, until cold. Keep in cool, dry, dark place.

Now we can get on to some more interesting uses of the loquat. From the Los Angeles Times of June 3, 1906, here is a quite unusual sweet-savoury idea, (perhaps intended for breakfast?)

Loquats a la Espagnole.

Select about three dozen large loquats; remove the seeds and place [the loquat flesh, not the seeds!] in a hot frying pan with two tablespoonfuls of bacon gravy or butter if preferred; salt slightly and cover until well steamed. Then uncover and dust with a very little chilli powder and brown on both sides, watching closely to prevent burning. Half a cupful of granulated sugar added at the last and allowed to form a syrup just before serving, greatly improves this dish.

Too much loquat jelly in the store cupboard? Here is one way to use some of it up, from the same article:

For Loquat Foam (A Quick Dessert.)

Whip the whites of five eggs to a stiff froth; sweeten with two cupfuls of powdered sugar and stir in gradually one cupful of loquat jelly. Serve in sherbet glasses with a teaspoonful of whipped cream on the top of each. A sprinkling of ground nuts added at the last, gives a delicious flavor.

And here are a couple more dessert ideas from same source:

Loquat Cream.

Beat the yolks of four eggs until light; add five tablespoonfuls of granulated sugar, and one cupful of loquat juice. Cook all together, stirring constantly till thick. Remove from the fire, stir in the whites which have been whipped to a stiff snow and sweetened. When cold, serve immediately in custard cups.

For Loquat Dumplings.

Make a crust the same as for apple dumplings: roll out and cut into oblong pieces; put two tablespoonfuls of seeded loquats in the centre of each. Add one tablespoonful of sugar and enclose in the paste. Lay upon a floured baking pan, with joined edges downward and bake about forty minutes. To be served with sweetened cream, or with a hot sweet sauce.

All Aboard for Oxtail Soup.

It is far too long since I gave you a menu, and probably longer since I gave you something that happened “On This Day.” So, today I share with you the menu from which you would have chosen your dinner, were you aboard the Norddeutscher Lloyd Bremen line ship “Kaiser Willhelm II” on this day in 1910. The menu was given in both German and English, but I have transcribed only the English.

DINNER

-

Ox-tail Soup

Consommé with Egg-Jelly

-

Filet of Halibut au Suprême

-

Roastbeef au Jus

Cauliflower Hollandaise

Potato Croquettes

-

Roast Chicken

Stewed Apricots – Lettuce Salad

-

Vanilla- and Strawberry Ice-Cream

Fancy Pastry

-

Fruits                  Coffee to Order

I am a little puzzled by the stewed apricots alongside the roast chicken and lettuce salad (although it sounds delicious), but perhaps one of you with knowledge of German cuisine can enlighten me as to if this is a common combination.

As the dish of the day, I have chosen Oxtail Soup – it was a staple winter dish when I was growing up in the north of England, and I cannot believe I have not given you a recipe for it before. I have chosen one from a book I have just discovered, and which I am sure I will use again. The book is indeed as it claims “A book that every family needs.” The full title I will abbreviate as: Consult Me, to Know how to Cook ... Consult Me on Confectionery ... Consult Me on Household Management and Economy ... Consult Me on Diseases and Their Remedies ... on a Thousand Other Things (London, 1871.) They don’t publish books like that anymore.

Oxtail Soup.

Joint the tails, and let them soak for some time in warm water. Put into a gallon stew-pan 8 cloves, 2 or 3 onions; allspice and black pepper, of each # a drachm; cayenne pepper, 1 chm; cover with cold water; skim as long as any scum rises; cover the pan very close, and simmer till the meat becomes tender, and will easily leave the bones. A table-spoonful of mushroom ketchup and a glass of wine will be a great improvement.

You Say Tomato, I Say Tomata.

As many of you have probably realized by now, I get a great kick out of finding forgotten and quirky things to share with you. I sometimes feel however, that I neglect the wonderful, but too-familiar items that grace our tables every day, but are barely thanked for their presence. In the ten years of this blog, I think I have neglected the tomato. This realization and confession has come about because of a “find” in one of my favourite cookery books - Domestic economy, and cookery, for rich and poor, by a lady (1827.) The recipe which piqued my interest was one for a “mock tomato” dish. What is a little surprising to me about this is that at this point in the nineteenth century, tomatoes (a New World food) were still viewed with suspicion by many folk, yet clearly there were also some for whom it was desirable enough that if it were not available, then a substitute or imitation was an attractive proposition. Here it is, for your enjoyment and, I hope, your comments.

Mock Tomata.

Pulp some roasted apples, colour them with turmeric and cochineal, or beet-juice; add chili vinegar, and bring it as near as possible to the taste and colour of the tomata; stir into each quart a quarter of an ounce of garlic, half an ounce of shalot, a tea-spoonful of cayenne, and a little salt; simmer gently for some time; it ought to be of the consistency of thick cream; put it well up in half pint bottles. This is an elegant sauce: if well made, it is hardly distinguishable from the real tomata. Great attention is necessary to give it the colour and taste. Fresh chilis are better than cayenne.

Another unusual (to me) idea for the tomato comes from the wonderful Modern Cookery in all its Branches (1845), by Eliza Acton:

Tomata Dumplings, Or Puddings.

(An American Receipt.)

“In the manner of composition, mode of cooking, and saucing, the good housewife must proceed in the same way as she would for an apple dumpling, with this exception, care must be taken in paring the tomata not to extract the seed, nor break the meat in the operation of skinning it. We have eaten tomatas raw without anything;-cut up with pepper, salt, vinegar, and mustard;—fried in butter and in lard;—broiled and basted with butter;—stewed with and without bread, with cream and with butter;—and, with a clear conscience, we can say, we like them in every way they have ever been fived for the palate; but of all the modes of dressing them, known to us, we prefer them when cooked in dumplings, for to us it appears that the steaming they receive in their dough-envelope increases in a very high degree that delicate spicy flavour which even in their uncooked state makes them such decided favourites with the epicure.”

Obs.—It is possible that the tomata, which is, we know, abundantly grown and served in a great variety of forms in America, may there, either from a difference of climate, or from some advantages of culture, be produced in greater perfection than with us, and possess really “the delicate spicy flavour,” attributed to it in our receipt, but which we cannot say we have ever yet discovered here; nor have we put its excellence for puddings to the proof, though some of our readers may like to do so.

As my final (for today) contribution to this paean to the humble tomato, may I give you something interesting from World War II?

Tomato Creams.

This is an unusual recipe from France. These creams are delicious served as a separate dish or with chicken creams. Cut up four medium-sized tomatoes and put them in a saucepan with a sliced onion, 1 oz. of margarine, one teaspoonful of salt, a quarter teaspoonful of better. Cover the pan and set it over a gentle heat for 10 minutes. Put the mixture through a sieve and add three tablespoonsfuls of stale breadcrumbs. Beat up two tablespoonfuls of cream with two eggs and mix them all together. Grease some small moulds, fill them, and set them on a pan of boiling water to steam for 20 minutes.

The Times of London, on June 17, 1940.

Useful Wartime Recipes.

The British wartime Ministry of Food published an enormous volume of advice directed at the nation’s housewives who were forced to cope with rationing of many basic foods. Newspapers repeated much of this advice, and also sought ideas from readers which then appeared scattered, or in columns, throughout their pages. The Times of London was no exception, and in 1942 printed a series of single recipes - some of them sourced from Ministry of Food publications, most unacknowledged. A couple of these caught my eye because they featured potatoes, and another because it is quite unusual.

Potato Cheese Pancake.

1 ½ lb. of potatoes; 4 oz. cheese; one tablespoonful of margarine; salt and pepper. Boil the potatoes in their skins, drain and mash them. Melt the margarine in a frying pan, mash the potatoes straight into the fat, then make a thick layer of the cheese on top. Cook over a very low heat to brown the bottom of the pancake, then put underneath the grill to melt the cheese and crisp it into a crust. Serve with a green salad.

War-Time Recipe Number 10, published in The Times on 24 July 1942.

Potato Madeira Cake (or Pudding.)

4-5 oz. raw potatoes, 8 oz. flour, one teaspoon baking powder, two tablespoons sugar (or one of sugar and one of golden syrup), 1 ½ oz. margarine or cooking fat, one level tablespoon household milk used dry, one teaspoon vanilla or almond flavouring, and one teaspoon powdered ginger.

Rub the fat into the flour and baking powder. Grate the raw potatoes and mix at once with the sugar, or sugar and syrup, the milk powder, and the flavourings. Add to the flour and use enough cold water to mix to a creamy dough. Put into a well-grease cake tin and bake in a moderate oven for 1 ½ hours. Split and spread with plum jam if desired.

By putting the same mixture into a greased basin and steaming for 1¼ hour, a light and spongy pudding is obtained which can be served with stewed plums.

War-Time Recipe Number 14, published in The Times on 5^th September 1942

The following recipe is quite unlike any others I have seen for the time, and I will be interested to hear your comments. I guess it would be quite difficult to reproduce today, in the absence of cans of sausage meat.  The air-travel connection is interesting too.

Spiced Meat Round.

A good travelling alternative to a sandwich, the spiced meat round served to passengers in British Overseas Aircraft is easy to make and also good coupon value. Put the contents of a tin of pork sausage meat into a basin, first removing the jelly. Mix the meat and fat thoroughly together, add a pinch of herbs, if liked. Add 1 lb. self-raising flour and rub into the meat gently with the tips of the fingers. Add cold water to the jelly to make up to 7 oz. with a good pinch of salt. Mix this thoroughly into the paste. Roll out just over ¼ inch thick, cut into 4in. rounds, glaze with processed egg dissolved in water, bake in a hot oven. Split when cold and fill with sliced cucumber, tomato, raw cabbage, or any filling, or eat plain. This is sufficient for 20 portions.

War-Time Recipe Number 11, published in The Times of 14 August, 1942