Anglo-Mex Anyone?

My gift to those of you celebrating Cinco de Mayo today was to be the best of all gifts (well, one of them anyway), it was to be the gift of something to think about. I wanted to give you Anglo-Mex food. Sadly, a prolonged search of English cookery books and newspapers produced a single recipe. It is from The Times, and although it is Mexican in name, I have to say that it is a recipe whose nationality is scarcely identifiable, a recipe which singlehandedly makes the whole authenticity debate utterly hilarious.

Mexican Refresher.
Dissolve 6 oz of loaf sugar in a pint of boiling water. Pour in by degrees a quarter of a pint each of sherry and of lemon juice. Then add three quarters of a pint of cold milk. Stir well and pass through a jelly bag until clear. Serve icy cold.
The Times, Monday, Jul 24, 1939.

The magnificent and thoroughly English Victorian tome - Cassell’s Dictionary of Cookery (1892 ed) - did however ease the dearth of recipes with this description of a much more authentic (I think) Mexican beverage:

Pulque:- This is a beverage much delighted in by the Mexicans and inhabitants of
some parts of Central and South America. It is made from the juice of different species of agave. The juice is collected by cutting out the flowering stem just when it is beginning to grow from the midst of the leaves, and scooping a hole for the juice. The cavity being formed, large quantities of juice are removed daily from it for months. When fresh, pulque is an agreeable drink, but it is more frequently drunk after fermentation, when its taste is more
pleasant. The great drawback is a putrid smell, but one gets over that in time. Mixed
with water and sugar, and allowed to ferment for a few hours, pulque forms a beverage called
Tepach.

Quotation for the Day.

I never ask God for anything, I only ask him to put me where things are.
Mexican proverb.

Mode of Cooking Rations.

It is a while since we had any military food history, so today I want to give you some wisdom and recipes from an American Civil War era manual. It is the Hand-book for Active Service: Containing Practical Instructions in Campaign Duties, for the Use of Volunteers (1861), and it has an entire section on that most important duty – the feeding of the troops.

RATIONS AND MODE OF COOKING THEM.

The history of military campaigns develops no fact more striking than that a very large percentage of the casualties are those of diseases incident to an improper diet. .…

The regular daily ration of food issued to the troops in the United States service, is three fourths of a pound of pork or bacon, or one and a fourth pounds of fresh or salt beef, eighteen ounces of bread or flour, or twelve ounces of hard bread, or one and a fourth pounds of corn meal, and at the rate, to one hundred rations, of eight quarts of peas or beans, or in lieu thereof ten pounds of rice; six pounds of coffee; twelve pounds of sugar; four quarts of vinegar; one and a half pounds of tallow, or one and a fourth pounds of adamantine, or one pound sperm candles; four pounds of soap, and two quarts of salt.

On a campaign or on marches or on board transports the ration of hard bread is one pound.

Fresh beef, when it can be procured, should be furnished at least twice a week; the beef to be procured, if possible, by contract.

The recipes for the use of these rations, each for a mess of 25 men, are, as would be expected, for very minor variations on a theme of soup and stew. I found the recipes for tea and coffee quite interesting however, so here they are.

Tea for 25 men.
Allow 12 quarts of water; put the rations of tea, a large teaspoonful to each, in a cloth tied up very loosely; throw it into the boiler while it is boiling hard for a moment. Then take off the boiler, cover it, and let it stand full ten minutes when it will be ready to use; first add sugar and milk, if to be had at the rate of 3 pints or 2 quarts of milk, and a pound or a pound and a half of sugar.


Coffee for 25 men.
Take 12 quarts of water, when it boils add 20 ounces of coffee, mix it well and leave it on the fire till it commences to boil, then take it off and pour into it a little more than a quart of cold water; let it stand in a warm place full ten minutes; the dregs will settle at the bottom and the coffee be perfectly clear. Pour it then into another vessel, leaving the dregs in the first; add sugar, 4 teaspoonsful to the quart. If you can get milk leave out five quarts of water in the above receipt, and put milk in its place.

Quotation for the Day.

When General Lee took possession of Chambersburg on his way to Gettysburg, we happened to be a member of the Committee representing the town. Among the first things he demanded for his army was twenty-five barrels of Saur-Kraut.
The Guardian (1869)

Drinking Mint, Part 2.

Yesterday’s post on the definitive Southern US beverage of mint-julep was the result of a deviation from the rather convoluted search for the prize-winning recipes from the state-wide competition run by the Milk Board of Victoria (Australia) in 1936. It seems the board had copied the idea from the British Milk Board, who ran a similar competition in the previous year. The competition proved to everyone’s obvious relief that ‘Victorian housewives show they know how to make attractive milk dishes.’

One of the winning recipes was for a mint beverage at quite the opposite spectrum to the mint-julep.

Supper Drink.

Place one or two strong peppermints in one cup of boiling milk, stir till dissolved.This is especially wholesome for winter nights before retiring to bed or before setting out on a cold journey.

That is not the end of the mint beverage theme. I give you two more, the first from the
Sydney Morning Herald in January 1918, in response to a correspondent’s request for recipes using mint.

First – used as a beverage. The leaves of mint should be steeped in sherry, then pass the flavoured wine through ice, till the whole has become impregnated with the mint aroma. When it is poured off it is regarded as a deliciously cool beverage, or stimulating cordial.

And finally, from the Southern Cook Book of Fine Old Recipes, 1935. What is it about those Southerners and mint?

Mint Tea

2 cups sugar

½ cup water

Grated rind of one orange

Juice of 6 oranges

6 glasses of very strong tea

Several sprays of mint.

Boil the sugar, water, and orange rind about 5 minutes. Remove from the fire and add the crushed leaves of mint and let cool. Into the tea put the orange juice. Half fill the iced tea glasses with crushed ice, add the tea, and sweeten to taste with the mint syrup. A sprig of mint or a slice of orange may be added to each glass as a garnish.

You don’t need to flood my email box, I know I have missed the liqueur, crème de menthe. It was deliberate. I like mint, but it will take me some time to understand crème de menthe.

Quotation for the Day.

Those herbs which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but, being trodden upon and crushed, are three; that is, burnet, wild thyme and watermints. Therefore, you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread.
Francis Bacon

What milk was that?

I got to thinking about ‘milk’ after my post of yesterday. I have always had a vague objection to the concept of soy milk in the context in which it is often promoted, because it is hardly ‘natural’. Mammals produce milk, plants definitely do not. The only way to make ‘milk’ out of beans is by a heck of a lot of processing. And anyway, it tastes awful.

Strangely, I don’t have any objection to the concept of almond milk – but then no-one seriously considers it as a nutritional alternative to real (mammalian) milk. Its milkiness is useful for those who eschew animal products (faithful Christians during Lent, and vegans all the time, for example.) And it tastes great.

It seems to me that the non-mammalian milks for which recipes can be found fall into two categories. Firstly, those such as almond milk and soy milk which are used as ‘real’ milk substitutes. Secondly, beverages which the inventor wishes to associate with a particular mammalian characteristic such as strength or power.

In the first category are a number of ‘imitation’ milks, such as artificial asses’ milk and mare’s milk, which we have touched upon in a previous post. These are often intended for medicinal purposes – asses’ milk for example was considered closest to human milk, so suitable for infants or the indisposed, but rarely available, so a mock version was made.

In the second category are a variety of alcoholic ‘cordials’ (the word originally meaning restorative beverages). I give you a couple of examples from one of our recent sources - Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks, by William Terrington, 1869. Note that the version of Asses’ Milk that appears below is not suitable for babies, but is probably so named because excessive consumption would cause one to behave like an ass.

Elephant’s Milk.
To 1 oz. of benzoin gum, dissolved in 1 pint of spirits of wine, add 1 lb. of sugar, dissolved in 1 quart of boiling water.

Asses’ Milk.
½ gill of rum; bottle of aerated lemonade.


Quotation for the Day.
Things are never what they seem,
Skim milk masquerades as cream.
H.M.S. Pinafore, W.S.Gilbert

A Thousand Notable Things.

This week, just for fun, I thought I would see what was considered ‘notable’ in food ideas in a pompously charming book called A Thousand Notable Things. The edition I have used is that published in London in 1815, but the original work was by Thomas Lupton, Earl of Worcester, and was published in the late sixteenth century.

The book is dedicated to The King’s Most Excellent Majesty, and in his lengthy introduction the author briefly explains his motive:

“I confess I made it but for the superficial satisfaction of a friend’s curiosity, according as it is set down; and if it might now serve to give aim to your Majesty how to make use of my poor endeavours, it would crown my thoughts, who am neither covetous nor ambitious … ”

The book certainly covers a wide range of topics including animal husbandry, the domestic arts and crafts (including beauty therapy), and home remedies for a variety of terrifying conditions such as apoplexy, canker, carbuncles, cholic, dropsy, felons, fistulas, stinking breath and stinking feet, the griefs and pains of the bladder, and “the fundament that goeth forth”. If you want to know how many children (if any) you will have, and “if they shall live or die, [or] if they will die in Prison”, how to dye bones red, make shoes that will never wear out, catch weasels, interpret dreams, or determine when there will be wars, famine or plague – then this is the book for you. Another interesting aspect of this book is that, unusually for his time, the author takes pains to credit his sources.

I have chosen an alcohol theme for today’s selection from this lovely book.

Cure for Inebriation: Dr Petier, a German physician, states that he has found the spirit of hartshorn (in the dose of a small teaspoonful in a glass of water) to counteract the inebriating effects of strongly fermented liquors and spirits, and to recover a person from an apparently lifeless state, from an excess of wine, in an hour or two.

Prevention of course is always better than cure, so here is some rather double-handed advice:

Drunkenness, to prevent: A large draught of Salad Oil drunk first, will prevent Drunkenness, and so will New Milk, but it will make you sick, and I think it best not to try the experiment. Plat’s Jewel House, p. 59

Drunkenness is sometimes useful however:

If you will make Birds drunk, that you may catch them with your hands, take such meat as they love, as Wheat or Beans, or such like, and lay them to steep in the Lees of Wine, or the in the Juice of Hemlock, and sprinkle them in the place where the Birds use to haunt; and if they do eat the thereof, straightways they will be so giddy, that you may take them with your hands. I wrote this out of an old written book, wherein I know many true things were written.

And an appropriate recipe from the book, which makes the piece of lime wedged in the neck of the beer bottle look a bit lame is this:


How To Make Forty Sorts Of Changes Of Ale Drawn Out Of One Barrel.
Take Ale of a good body, and when it has worked well, bottle it off, but fill not the bottle within three spoonfuls, and being ripe, as you use it fill it up with the syrup of any fruit, root, flower, or herb you have by you, for that purpose; or drop in chemical oils or waters of them, or spices, and with a little shaking the whole mass will be tinctured, and taste pleasantly of what you put in; and so you may make all sorts of physical Ales with little trouble, and no incumbrance, morehealthful and proper than if herbs were soaked in it, or drugs, which in the pleasant entertainment, will make your friends wonder how you came by such variety on a sudden.

Quotation for the Day.

The best cure for drunkenness is whilst sober, observe a drunken person.
Chinese proverb.

A Parting Dish.

I want to give you two more ‘meals’ today, to complete our series. Firstly, lets take a break for ‘bever’ (or ‘beaver’). ‘Bever’ is another small refreshment with flexible timing in the day. According to the OED it is ‘A small repast between meals; a ‘snack,’ nuncheon, or lunch; esp. one in the afternoon between mid-day dinner and supper’, so perhaps does fit better at afternoon tea-time. It is most usually taken to refer to a liquid refreshment, as you can guess from its association with the word ‘beverage’.

Our final meal, for now, is also beverage-based. It is ‘a collation consisting of wine accompanied by spices, comfits, or the like, partaken of before retiring to rest or the departure of guests; a repast of this nature following upon a feast or fuller meal; a parting dish, and in medieval times was known as the voidé (or voidée). The name is not hard to fathom as it took place as the guests were leaving and the hall was being cleared of the trestle tables (the hall then reverting to a large communal bedchamber). It was usually taken standing up, even by the King. There was a medicinal element to this little ceremony, the spices and beverages being chosen for their digestive and strengthening qualities. The traditional drink was hippocras ‘a cordial drink made of wine flavoured with spices’ (‘cordial’ here referring to its supposed tonic benefits.)

Ancient cookery manuscripts commonly contain instructions for the making of hippocras, but I found some interesting ‘new’ interpretations of the idea in How to mix drinks: or, The bon-vivant's companion,… by Jerry Thomas, and Christian Schultz (1862)


Hypocras Framboisé (Raspberry Hippocras.)
3 lbs. of raspberries made to a pulp; add 9 gallons of claret wine, and ½ gallon of alcohol, 95 per cent. Dissolve 8 lbs of sugar in powder in it. Filter.


Hypocras au Vin d’Absinthe. (Absinthe Hippocras)
2 ½ lbs fresh wormwood; macerate for 12 hours in 9 gallons of white wine, filter; add to this
40 lemons, the thin yellow rinds only.
40 cedrats, ditto
5 ounces of anise-seed
½ ounce of cloves.
Ground and cut; macerate the whole with ½ gallon of alcohol, 95 per cent; add 8 lbs of powdered sugar; strain and filter.


Quotation for the Day.

The king and the ambassadours were serued at a banket with two hundred and sixtie dishes, and after that a voidee of spices with sixtie spice plates.
Holinshed’s Chronicles III.

Trendy? New?

I bought a jar of chilli jam at the Farmer’s Market recently, from a new stallholder, and very good it is too. I can still remember the first jar of chilli jam I ever bought. It was a few years – not a few decades – ago. Suddenly, it seems, every deli and grocery store and farmer’s market is selling chilli jam of one sort or another.

When I got home from the market, I made a cup of chai from the tea-bag selection that was part of a Christmas hamper gift. Over the last few years – years, not decades – it also seems that all of the coffee shops around the city now offer chai, and every supermarket stocks the prepared mixes.

There is no doubt about it, food fashions come and go – or do they just fade slightly between major appearances? It was yesterday’s source (For Luncheon and Supper Guests, by Alice Bradley, Boston, 1923) that got me wondering along those lines. This is why …

Spiced Syrup for Tea.
Put in a small saucepan
1 cup water and
½ cup sugar. Heat to boiling point and when sugar is dissolved add
1 tablespoon whole cloves, crushed, and a
2-inch piece stick cinnamon broken in pieces, tied together very loosely in a piece of cheesecloth. Boil gently to 215 degrees F. or to a thin syrup. When cool add juice of
2 lemons. Serve in small bowl, using
1 tablespoon syrup in each cup of tea.


Pepper Jam.
Drain
1 small can pimientos and force through food chopper. Put in saucepan, add
¾ cup sugar and
½ cup vinegar, stir until sugar is dissolved and boil gently to 220 degrees F. or until mixture is the consistency of jam. Pour in small sterilized glasses ad when cool cover with melted paraffin.
If preferred use,
3 sweet bell peppers in place of pimientos. Remove seeds, force through food chopper, sprinkle with
Salt, and let stand 3 or 4 hours. Drain, rinse, and finish as above.


Quotation for the Day.

Tea is drunk to forget the din of the world.
T'ien Yiheng

Take a single ingredient ...

I have become interested recently in the evolution of ‘single ingredient’ cookery books. It was the Chocolate Parfait Amour recipe from the other day that got me thinking about the phenomenon. The source book - Cocoa and Chocolate: a short history of their production and use was published by the chocolate-making company Walter Baker and Co. in 1886 (the company that gave America ‘German Chocolate Cake’ – thanks to a typo. It should have been ‘German’s Chocolate Cake’ after the employee who developed the recipe, but that is another story.) This book must surely be one of the earliest examples of an advertising cookery book?

Numerous books of the nineteenth century contain recipe chapters – such as A Treatise on the Management of Fresh-water Fish, with a view to making them a source of profit to landed proprietors, published in 1841 by Gottlieb Boccius, which has ‘twenty three German recipes’. I do not count these however, as the recipes are not their main focus. The best I have been able to uncover so far (so many projects, so few hours in the day) are books on cooking apples (1865) and potatoes (1870), and I will give you some ideas from these books soon.

Please join in the search for early examples of this sort of cookery book – it promises to be quite good fun. I will feature them from time to time, as I (we) find them. For today, I will go again to the Baker Company’s chocolate recipe book, from which I have chosen a few interesting beverages.

Chocolate Syrup for Soda Water
Baker's chocolate (plain), four ounces; boiling water, four ounces ; water, twenty- eight ounces ; sugar, thirty ounces; extract of vanilla, one-half ounce. Cut the chocolate into small pieces, then add the boiling water, and stir briskly until the mixture forms into a thick paste, and assumes asmooth and uniform appearance; then slowly add the remainder of the water, stirring at the same time, and set aside until cold. After cooling thoroughly, a layer of solid grease, forms over the surface, which is to be carefully removed by skimming. After this is completed add the sugar, dissolved by the aid of a gentle heat, and allow the whole to come to a boil. Then strain and add the extract of vanilla. This forms a syrup which is perfect. It possesses the pure, rich flavor of the chocolate without the unpleasant taste.


Wine Chocolate.
Set half a bottle of good white wine, three ounces of chocolate, and one ounce of powdered sugar over the fire; beat the yolks of four eggs to foam, with a little wine, and add it to the chocolate as soon as it begins to simmer; stir it for a few minutes, then take it from the fire and serve. This is an excellent winter beverage.

Chocolate Wine.
Infuse in a bottle of Madeira, Marsala or raisin wine four ounces of chocolate, andsugar if required. In three or four days strain and bottle.


Quotation for the Day.

I can recommend switching to chocolate for all you addictive types. .. . Think of the advantages. … Chocolate doesn't make you stupid and clumsy. It doesn't render you incapable of operating heavy machinery. …You don't have to smuggle chocolate across the border. ...Possession, even possession with intent to sell, is perfectly legal. … and second-hand chocolate doesn't offend the people around you.
Linda Henley, American Columnist.

A Bill of Fare for ‘Colored Patrons.’

An interesting article in the New York Times of March 21, 1886 made ponder on the various and devious ways in which the determinedly subversive can get around anti-discrimination legislation. It made me wonder too, how much progress we have really made in well over a century. The article outlined the not-so-subtle way in which one Chicago restaurateur managed to find a way to keep ‘colored folk’ out of his establishment in spite of the new State racial discrimination laws.

AN EXPENSIVE BILL OF FARE

PROVIDED BY A CHICAGO RESTAURANT FOR

ITS COLORED PATRONS.

CHICAGO, March 20. – “Billy” Boyle, a restaurant keeper, has found a novel method of evading the State civil rights law, which gives to colored people the same privileges in hotels, restaurants, and public places that white people enjoy. When a negro sits down at one of Boyle’s tables, he is handed politely a special bill of fare from which the following prices are culled: Porterhouse steak $3.75, the same with oysters for $3.90; a sirloin with mushrooms for $2.65; pork sausage only $3.35; fried chicken with cream sauce, whole, $4.20; picked up codfish, $4.25; and fried apples and salt pork $4.35. Fried eggs cost $2.25, tomato omelet, $4.30, brook trout $ 5.60, frogs’ legs 5.75, broiled prairie chickens $6.75; buckwheat cakes $1.10; oatmeal mush $1.25; pickled pigs’ feet $3.80; fried oysters $5.80 for half a dozen; buttered toast $1.10; corned beef hash $4.25, and liver and bacon $3.25, and the whole can be washed down with tea, coffee, or milk at 50 cents. The guest is calmly invited to call for wine, liquors, ales, and cordials.

The object of this, of course, is to drive the colored guest from the restaurant, and it seldom fails. Often pride would bid them stay, but pride must be backed by money or it will have a fall. It is a question if this discrimination against one class of people is not illegal.

In honor of my African-American friends, I have chosen today’s recipe from The House Servant's Directory, or A Monitor for Private Families: Comprising Hints on the Arrangement and Performance of Servants' Work by Robert Roberts (1827) – the first book written by an African-American to be published in the United States of America*. The book contained over one hundred ‘receipts’ – many for household cleaners and the like, but a few for foodstuffs.

*UPDATE - see the comments below.


A Most Delicious Lemonade, to be Made the Day Before Wanted.
Take and pare two dozen of good sized lemons as thin as you possibly can; put eight of the rinds
into three quarts of hot water, but not boiling, cover it close over for four hours, then rub some sugar to the rinds to attract the essence, and put it into a bowl, and into which squeeze the juice of the lemons; to which add one pound and a half of fine sugar, then put the water to the above, and three quarts of boiling milk, mix and run through a jelly bag until clear; bottle it, if you choose, and cork close; this will be most excellent, and will keep.


To Make Raspberry Vinegar Most Delicious.
Put one quart of clean picked raspberries into a large bowl, pour on them one quart of best white wine vinegar, the next day strain off the liquor on one pound of fresh raspberries, and the following day do the same, but do not squeeze the fruit, but drain the liquor as dry as possible from the fruit; the last time pass it through a cloth wet in vinegar, to prevent any waste, then put it into a stone jar, with a pound of sugar to every pint of juice, let your sugar be in large lumps, as it is much better; when dissolved stir it up well, put your jar in a pot of hot water, let it simmer, skim well, and when cold bottle and cork close.


Quotation for the Day.

When I'm at a Chinese restaurant having a hard time with chopsticks, I always hope that there's a Chinese kid at an American restaurant somewhere who's struggling mightily with a fork.
Rick Budinich

The Buttery.

The last of our kitchen words for this week is ‘buttery’. The buttery was another ‘room’ in a medieval household which has long since become obsolete, for a whole lot of reasons, not merely technological change and shortage of servants.

The word ‘buttery’ – as with our other words this week – has a French origin and a usage in English dating to medieval times. The first thing to clarify about the buttery is that it was not the place where butter was stored - at least, not originally or solely - as even the largest medieval household would not have required an entire room for this purpose.

The buttery was where the butts and bottles (of liquor and wine) were stored – the French connection being obvious in the word bouteille for bottle. In a relatively short time the word was extended to include a room where other provisions were stored (the similarity to the word ‘butter’ no doubt helping this transition) – in other words it was the same as the pantry.

The buttery was the domain of the butler. The modern concept of a butler is of a glorified table servant, standing to attention at the periphery of the range of vision of the Master or Mistress at mealtimes, supervising minutely the work of the staff serving the food, and ready at any instant to pour the wine. Originally however he (it was always a ‘he’) had complete control of the wine and other liquor stores for the household. Because of the high level of responsibility and trust implied by this role, he had a high status in the servant world. A dishonest and poorly supervised butler could, and no doubt often did, divert some of the liquor and wine to his own purposes – this giving rise to the phrase ‘a butler’s grace’, meaning a discretionary drink.

Yesterday we had Hannah Woolley’s comments on scullery maids from her book The Gentlewoman’s Companion (1673). She had a warning to those employing butlers:

“In the Buttery and Cellars, that the Butler be careful of not making every idle fellow drunk that comes to the House, and so squander away without credit the Wine, Ale, and Beer.”

Today’s recipe must be for a nice discretionary drink. And who better to advise us than the inimitable and authoritative Sir Kenelme Digby, in his The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digby …. (1658)

To Make Wine of Cherries alone.

Take one hundred pounds weight, or what quantity you please, of ripe, but sound, pure, dry and well-gathered Cherries. Bruise and mash them with your hands to press out all their juyce, which strain through a boulter [a cloth], into a deep narrow Woodden tub, and cover it close with clothes [cloths]. It will begin to work and ferment within three or four hours, and a thick foul scum will rise to the top. Skim it off as it riseth to any good head, and presently cover it again. Do this till no more great quantitiy of scum arise, which will be four or five times, or more. And by this means the Liquor will become clear, all the gross muddy parts rising up in scum to the top. When you find that the height of the working is past, and that it begins to go less, turn it into a barrel, letting it run again through a boulter, to keep out all the gross feculent substance. If you should let it stay before you tun it up, till the working were too much deaded, the wine would prove dead. Let it remain in the barrel close stopped, a month or five weeks. Then draw it into bottles, into each of which up a lump of fine Sugar, before you draw the wine into it, and stop them very close, and set them in a cold Cellar. You may drink them after three or four months. This wine is exceedingly pleasant, strong, spiritful, and comfortable.


Quotation for the Day.
It is well to remember that there are five reasons for drinking: the arrival of a friend, one's present or future thirst, the excellence of the wine, or any other reason.
[attribution ?]

Water of Life.

I wind up my time here in Dublin with some ‘Irish’ recipes – by which I mean those named ‘Irish’ by cookbook writers of the past. They may or may not be authentically Irish – but what does that mean anyway? A griddle cake made from potatoes may be called boxty in Ireland (as was discussed in yesterday’s post), but there are potato cakes of some form or another wherever there are potatoes, so perhaps after all it is only the name that is authentically Irish.

It seems that the Irish may have invented whisky, although we will never know for sure, as the art of distillation is very ancient. It does seem however that we must certainly give them credit for the name. The word ‘whisky’ apparently derives from the Irish Gaelic ‘Uisge Beatha’, which translates as ‘water of life’ – or aqua vitae, or eau de vie, if you like. Strong ‘waters’, or ‘cordials’ were popular once upon a time for their perceived medicinal value. Here is a recipe, purporting to be Irish, for Water of Life.

Prime Irish Usquebaugh.
Put into a large glass or stone bottle three pints of brandy: half an ounce each of saffron, liquorice, jujubes, and raisins of the sun; and a quarter of an ounce each of coriander seeds and cinnamon. Then melt a pound and a half of sugar in a pint of water, put it to the rest, and let the whole infuse three weeks; after which time, pour off the clear liquor. This is an excellent cordial, and much esteemed by the Parisians, to whom it was originally introduced by a celebrated general officer in the Irish brigade.
A Modern System of Domestic Cookery, M. Radcliffe, 1839

What else is intrinsically Irish? ‘Irish Stew’ seems to be a relatively modern phrase, and the dish is, after all, merely one version of pot au feu, or a hot pot, or some other nation’s one-pot dinner. Perhaps it is Irish because it contains sheep and potatoes, two ingredients strongly identified with Ireland? I have never been clear on the quintessential difference between Irish Stew and Lancashire Hot Pot (also usually mutton and potatoes), and suspect there is none. There are an infinite number of interpretations of ‘Irish Stew’, and we have had several in previous posts (here, here, and here), so I will forbear from giving you another one today.


The beverage and main courses being settled, here are the ‘Irish’ dessert options for you.

Irish Cream Cheese
Take a quart of very thick cream, and stir well into it two spoonfuls of salt. Double a napkin in two, and lay it in a punchbowl. Pour the cream into it; turn the four corners over the cream, and let it stand for two days. Put it into a dry cloth within a little wooden cheese vat; turn it into dry cloths twice a day until it is quite dry, and it will be fit to eat in a few days. Keep it in clean cloths in a cool place.
The Lady’s Own Cookery Book, and New Dinner Table Directory, Lady Charlotte Campbell Bury, 1844.

Irish Pancakes.
Beat eight yolks and four whites of eggs, strain them into a pint of cream, sweeten with sugar, and add a grated nutmeg. Stir three ounces of butter over the fire,, and as it melts pour it to the cream, which should be warm when the eggs are put to it. Mix it smooth with nearly half a pint of flour; and fry the pancakes very thin the first with a bit of butter but not the others. Serve up several at a time one upon another.
The cook and housekeeper's complete and universal dictionary, Mary Eaton, 1822


Quotation for the Day.

Uisce Beatha: an Irish or Erse word for the Water of Life. It is a compounded and distilled spirit, being drawn on aromaticks, and the Irish sort is particularly distinguished for its pleasant and mild flavor. In Scotland it is somewhat hotter, and by corruption in Scottish they call it Whisky.
Dr Samuel Johnson, in his Dictionary of 1750.

Bountiful Barley.

I am visiting Dublin for a few days, and naturally my sightseeing focus is on ‘food’ – using the term as widely as seems appropriate. Few would argue the inclusion of beer and whisky in that definition, so today I visited the Guinness Storehouse (free pint at the end) and the Jameson’s Whisky Distillery (free nip at the end).

Both ‘attractions’ are well worth the visit if you are in Dublin for a while. I was reminded of how incredibly useful is barley - the prime ingredient in both beverages. Barley is essential of course in Artificial Asses’ Milk too, as we have found out previously, and in good old-fashioned Barley Water, which we have not had a recipe for to date. Then there is barley bread, the basic food of many peasant communities over the centuries. But what of barley in soup?

I saw (and tasted) barley in various stages of preparation – crushed, roasted, malted – but not pearled. What is pearl barley – the standard form (although not the universally preferred form*) used for soup? This is barley which has been hulled, steam processed, then polished to remove more of the remaining bran – leaving it marginally less nutritious but significantly more cookable and palatable.

Here is the inimitable Dr Kitchiner’s recipe and medicinal opinion for Barley Water, from his Cook’s Oracle (1822)

Barley Water.
Take a couple of ounces of Pearl Barley; wash it clean with cold water; put it into half a pint of boiling water and let it boil for five minutes; pour off this water and add to it two quarts of boiling water; boil it to two pints and strain it.

The above is simple Barley Water:- to a quart of this is frequently added
Two ounces of Figs sliced;
The same of Raisins stoned;
Half an ounce of Liquorice sliced and bruised;
And a pint of water.
Boil till it is reduced to a quart and strain.

Obs:- These Drinks are intended to assuage thirst in ardent Fevers, and inflammatory disorders, for which plenty of mild diluting liquor is one of the principal remedies: - and if not suggested by the Medical attendant, is frequently demanded by honest Instinct in terms too plain to be misunderstood; - the Stomach sympathizes with every fibre of the human frame, and no part of it can be distressed without in some degree offending the Stomach;- therefore it is of the utmost importance to soothe this grand Organ by rendering every thing we offer to it as elegant and agreeable as the nature of the case will admit of; the Barley drink prepared according to the second receipt will be received with pleasure by the most delicate palate.


* Mistress Dods has very strong views on the virtues of pot barley vs pearl barley in Scotch Barley Broth.


Quotation for the Day.

In the age of acorns, before the times of Ceres, a single barley-corn had been of more value to mankind than all the diamonds of the mines of India.
Henry Brooke.

The Hunt Breakfast.

Today, with much relief, I leave behind the relentlessly awful, cold, uncooked, unsalted, unspiced, decidely unappealing offerings of the early raw-foodies, and instead give you a glimpse into another sort of lifestyle altogether. From the American Jessup Whitehead’s The steward's handbook and guide to party catering, (1889) I give you this short insight into breakfast with the English aristocracy.

One of the British princes was recently entertained at the country seat of a nobleman at a "hunt breakfast" and dinner, and the decorations and table-ware were changed for each as follows :

Hunt Breakfast Menu.

Broiled Kidneys. Pulled Fowl

Salmon Steaks. Stuffed Tomatoes.

Sheeps Tongues. Potted Pigeons.

Broiled Rump Steaks. Quenelles.

Croquettes of Rice and Ham.

Chickens in Bechamel.

Potted Game. Pate Mêlé.

Cold Sirloin of Beef. Pressed Tongues.

York Hams. Raised Pies (various).

Normandy Pippins. Stewed Prunes.

Clotted Cream.

Roast Snipes. Woodcocks. T[h]rushes.

Apple Marmalade. Apricot Jam. Currant Jelly.

Vanilla Milk. Café au Lait. Tea.

Liqueurs.

"The tables on this occasion were dressed with white cloths and decorated à la jardinière. The silver antique jardinières were filled with ferns and spring flowers, peeping out of mosses of various kinds. Large silver bowls and epergnes on the side-board and side tables were filled with exquisite arrangements of hyacinths, tulips, wood violets, snowdrops, etc., in mosaic patterns; whilst hanging baskets graced the windows, filled with the spiritulle cyclamen light foliage, interspersed with yellow and red flowers, that gave the grand old oak hall a splendid appearance. The display of antique plate would have delighted the heart of the most enthusiastic antiquary, and the tout ensemble seemed to give the young prince much pleasure.

"The vanilla milk, which, by the way, was half cream, found great favor, and was served steaming hot in silver cups. Some added curaçoa to it, others a petit verre de Cognac, but the majority preferred the sweet beverage simply as prepared in the kitchen by my worthy old friend, the chef, who is too modest to allow me to give his name."

The author then goes on, as promised, to describe the equally sumptuous dinner.

Two particular dishes appeal to me on this menu: the “pulled fowl”, and the featured vanilla milk (I think I would have had mine ‘straight’, to better enjoy the vanilla-ness.)

Pulled Fowl.
This is a side dish for company. Select a fine tender fowl young fat full grown and of a large kind. When quite done take it out of the pot, cover it, and set it away till wanted. Then with a fork pull off in flakes all the flesh (first removing the skin,) and with a chopper break all the bones, and put them into a stew pan adding two calves’ feet split, and the hock of a cold ham, a small bunch of parsley and sweet marjoram, and a quart of water. Let it boil gently till reduced to a pint. Then take it out. Have ready in another stew pan the bits of pulled fowl. Strain the liquor from the bones &c over the fowl, and add a piece of fresh butter (the size of a small egg) rolled in flour, and a tea spoonful of powdered mace and nutmeg mixed. Mix the whole together and let the pulled fowl stew in gravy for ten minutes. Serve it hot. A turkey may be cooked in this manner and will make a fine dish. For a turkey allow four calves feet.
Miss Leslie’s New Cookery Book, 1857.

Vanilla Milk.
To 12 drops essence of vanilla and 1 oz. of lump sugar, add 1 pint of new milk.
Cooling cups and dainty drinks; William Terrington, 1869.


Quotation for the Day.

Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they're in the game.
Paul Rodriguez

From Acorns to Chocolate.

Sometimes a historic trail leads off to somewhere quite different from where you start – which is a large part of the fun of course. I was exploring the use of acorns as food (boiled, in bread, as subsitute coffee), and found myself browsing an interesting bookcalled Waste Products and Undeveloped Substances, or, Hints for Enterprise in Neglected Fields, published by Peter Lund Simmonds in 1862. He describes the historic use of the acorn, and then says:

“ … In Turkey acorns are buried for some time in the earth by which the bitterness is destroyed They are then dried and toasted. Their powder with sugar and aromatics constitutes the palamoud of the Turks and racahout of the Arabs an alimentary substance readily digestible and very much esteemed.”

So, now I had two unfamiliar foods to investigate. Bear in mind, that as I do not speak Turkish or Arabic, what I ended up with was the Eurocentric view of these items. I would love some response from those really in the know! Anyway, I was doubly delighted to find references in, of all things, The Druggist's General Receipt Book , published in London in 1850.

We don’t generally think of pharmacopoeia as sources of recipes. Remedies, maybe, for gruel or beef tea or gruesome laxatives and other foods for invalids, but not delicious-sounding delicacies. Here is the The Druggist's General Receipt Book’s intrepretation of the “Turkish” and “Arabic” dishes of palamoud and racahout as fortifying drinks based on chocolate. Note that “by chocolate is meant the cacao beans roasted and pulverized to powder”, not the “dutched” and often sweetened chocolate powder of today.


Racahout Des Arabes
1 oz chocolate powder
3 oz rice flour
9 oz sugar
3 oz potato arrow-root
1 dr. vanilla (pulverized with part of sugar).
This is professedly a preparation of acorns (perhaps those of the Quercus ballotta, which are naturally sweet, or of other kinds deprived of their bitterness by
being buried in the earth)


Palamoud
1 oz chocolate
4 oz rice flour
4 oz potato arrow-root
1 dr. red sanders in fine powder

So, here we are with another example of the “everthing old is new again” – chocolate (the dark variety, in mini-moderation) now apparently being suspected of having medicinal value.

Quotation for the Day.

Chocolate is not only a pleasant of taste, but it is also a veritable balm of the mouth, for the maintaining of all glands and humours in a good state of health. Thus it is, that all who drink it, possess a sweet breath.
Stephani Blancardi (1650-1702), Italian Physician.

Florence Nightingale, On Tea.

Feeding the troops is a special sort of catering art, and the military in various countries have published instruction manuals from time to time on how to do it properly. In a nice little booklet published in 1861 called Directions For Cooking By Troops, In Camp And Hospital, Prepared For The Army Of Virginia, And Published By Order Of The Surgeon General, there were two essays included called ‘Taking Food’ and ‘What Food’ by the famous English nurse Florence Nightingale (1820-1910)

'The Lady with the Lamp' had much to say on tea:

A great deal too much against tea is said by wise people, and a great deal too much of tea is given to the sick by foolish people. When you see the natural and almost universal craving in English sick for their “tea” you cannot but feel that nature knows what she is about about. But a little tea or coffee restores them quite as much as a great deal, and a great deal of tea, and especially of coffee, impairs the little power of digestion they have. Yet a nurse, because she sees how one or two cups of tea or coffee restores her patient, thinks that three or four cups will do twice as much.
This is not the case at all; it is, however, certain that there is nothing yet discovered which is a substitute to the English patient for his cup of tea; he can take it when he can take nothing else, and he often can't take anything else if he has it not. I should be very glad if any of the abusers of tea would point out what to give to an English patient after a sleepless night, instead of tea. … The only English patients I have ever known refuse tea, have been typhus cases, and the first sign of their getting better was their craving again for tea. …

Here are two alternative beverages from the book:

Crimean Lemonade.
Put in a basin 2 tablespoonfuls of white or brown sugar, ½ a tablespoonful of lime juice, mix well together, and add one pint of water.


Citric Acid Lemonade.
Dissolve 1 oz. citric acid in one pint of cold water; add 1 lb. 9 oz. white sugar, mix well to form a thick syrup; then put in 19 pints cold water, slowly mixing well.


Quotation for the Day ….

Let experience, not theory, decide upon this as upon all other things.
Florence Nightingale.

Legal Punch.

The tricky issue of what to serve in the way of party drinks during Prohibition in the USA was solved by either breaking the law, getting around a legal loophole, - or by being as imaginative as possible with fruit juice.

In September 1930 an example was led from the top, with a little book called Prohibition Punches by Roxana B. Doring, wife of the one-time Commissioner of Prohibition, and subsequently Administrator of Industrial Alcohol.

There were contributions for several “nationally-known” women and famous hostesses. Here is a selection, ready for your alcohol-free Christmas parties.

From Mabel Walker Willebrandt, former Assistant United States Attorney General, whose nickname was Prohibition Portia:

Portia’s Punch.

To one small bottle of red Concord California pure concentrated grape juice or Concord loganberry, add two bottles light-colourd ginger ale, one lemon sliced thin, half cut chopped mint leaves. Serve very cold.

From Mrs Laura Volstead Lomen, daughter of the author of the Volstead act:

Fruit Punch.

One can grated pineapple, three cups boiling water, one cup tea freshly make, juice six lemons, juice ten oranges, one quart strawberry, currant, or grape juice, one bottle Apollinaris water, one quart of sugar or three cups of syrup of thirty five degrees, and four quarts of water.

Grate the pineapple and boil with the water twenty minutes. Strain thoroughly through jelly bags, press out all possible; let it cool and add rest of fruit juice, tea, and syrup. If sugar be used, add a pint of water and let boil six or eight minutes, cool before using. Add Apollinaries water just before serving. If possible make punch a few hours before serving and chill. Strawberries, mint leaves or sliced bananas may be added.”

And from Mrs. Seymour Lowman, wife of the Assistant Secretary of the Treasury:

Meridian Mansions Punch.

Sixteen ounce bottle of rose lime juice, sixteen ounce bottle of orange juice, two bottles of ginger ale, juice of twenty-four lemons, sugar if desired. Chill by adding lemon water ice made in freezer.

Quotation for the Day …

Oh look, yet another Christmas TV special!  How touching to have the meaning of Christmas brought to us by cola, fast food, and beer.... Who'd have ever guessed that product consumption, popular entertainment, and spirituality would mix so harmoniously? 

Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes

Yorkshire Beer.

Now this recipe (from the same newspaper source as the previous two days) triggered a real trip down memory lane for me, on account of one of the ingredients.

Home-made Yorkshire Beer.
1 breakfast cupful of linseed,
1 breakfast cupful of hops,
1 lemon
1 lb. of sugar
1 oz stick of spanish
Half-penny worth of yeast (either brewer’s or German)
1 gallon water.
Put lemon sliced into a pan with linseed, hops, spanish (bruised), sugar and water. Boil 20 min. Strain into a vessel. Let stand until just warm and add the yeast. Stir the contents well, place in a warm place, and cover with a cloth. After 24 hr. skim off the yeast and pour off the liquor carefully into another vessel, leaving the sediment. Bottle immediately and in three days the beer is fit for use.
For some tastes the above portion of sugar may be found too large. It may be diminished but the beer will not keep so long.
When in season, a cupful of nettle tops and a few dandelion flowers may be boiled with the other ingredients if liked.

The ingredient is of course ‘spanish’. It is a particularly northern word for liquorice – I don’t know that it is used outside Yorkshire, but would be very interested to hear from you if you have any ideas. ‘Spanish’ was the only word we ever used as children. It came in short, brittle, shiny sticks with one end slighly flattened with some sort of logo on it. We used to suck the end to a tiny point and loved the black lips and mouth. Or, we would buy packets of ‘kali’ – fizzy sherbet powder, and dip the spanish in it and suck it. The third thing was to put a stick of it in water, and shake and shake it till it dissolved into ‘spanish water’ – our sort of childhood ‘beer’.

Why liquorice is called ‘spanish’ is a mystery. There is a particular Yorkshire connection with liquorice. It is a major product of the town of Pontefract (especially famous for its ‘Pontefract Cakes’ or ‘Pomfret Cakes’ – flat discs of liquorice stamped like sealing wax with an image supposedly of the castle.) One theory is that it was Spanish monks at the Cistercian abbey at Rievaulx who introduced it to the area. Another is that liquorice was introduced (imported) from Spain. A dearth of theories for such an intriguing subject, methinks.

Coffee, if you can get it.

Today, August 10th …

General Orders No. 54, dated this day in 1861, specified the ration for a Civil War Confederate soldier to be:

22 ounces of soft bread or flour, or 1 pound of hardbread (hardtack) per day.
1 pound 4 ounces salt or fresh beef or 12 ounces of pork or bacon.
1 pound of potatoes three times per week if available.
To every 100 rations 15 pounds beans or peas AND 10 pounds rice or hominy; 10 pounds green coffee or 8 pounds roasted coffee; 1 pound 8 ounces tea; 15 pounds sugar; 4 quarts vinegar; 3 pounds 12 ounces salt; 4 ounces pepper; and 1 quart molasses.

Sounds deficient in some vitamins, and very boring, but filling enough. Of course, this was the ration in theory. In practice things were not so luxurious. Apparently the biggest and most bemoaned issue for both civilian and soldier of the South alike, was not the vitamins or the variety – but the lack of coffee. Something had to be done, and much imagination was applied to the problem.

The range of coffee substitutes invented by desperate humans is quite astounding. Not all have been the result of wartime shortages. There are those anxious souls who fear what might happen to them under its stimulating effects - but don’t want to relinquish a hot beverage at breakfast. Such souls as Ella Kellogg, whose recipe for Caramel Coffee made from parched cornmeal we featured in a previous story – staunchly pure souls who consider prunes on toast an delicious alternative to marmalade. Most coffee substitutes are not the result of misguided opinion and choice however, they are the response to necessity in hard times. We have previously featured a Civil War recipe for ‘coffee’ made from sweet potato, but there were many, many, more ideas – and a significant amount of newspaper space was taken up with letters and recipes for coffee substitutes during the war. It seems to me that the range of ideas is testament to human ingenuity in deprivation – and to the amazing ability for hype in desperation. Most of the suggestions and recipes are accompanied by enthusiastic assurances that the substitute is as good, if not better than the real thing (so why was there an enthusiastic return to drinking expensive coffee instead of the infinitely cheaper substitutes after the war?).

Such creativity should be acknowledged: I will give a few more recipes for coffee substitutes in the future. For today, I give you an alternative idea – a method of ‘bulking up’ a limited amount of coffee, to make it go further. It is from a Georgia newspaper in 1865.

Substitutes for Coffee.
Nobody has had more occasion to mourn over the blockade than that numerous and highly respectable class, the coffee topers. Many an one would cheerfully munch his dry crusts at breakfast, if he could wash them down with the cheering beverage which used, in former times, to atone for the short-comings of cooks and fortify him against a day of vexations. For the stimulating property to which both tea and coffee owe their chief value, there is unfortunately no substitute; the best we can do is to dilute the little stocks which still remain, and cheat the palate, if we cannot deceive the nerves. The best substitute which we have yet found for either tea or coffee, is plenty of good, rich milk, which is at least nutritive, if not stimulating. But alas! the price of butter plainly tells that milk is almost as scarce as coffee, and many persons want something hot to drive off the fogs of the morning. After many unsatisfactory trials of rye, wheat, corn, potatoes, okra, acorns, and almost everything else that can be purchased, we have found in molasses, we will not say a substitute for, but an adulteration of coffee, which leaves but little to be desired, but the stimulus. Don't be alarmed, Mr. Editor, we are not about to propose "long sweetening." Molasses when boiled down until it scorches, is converted into an intensely bitter substance, called by chemists caramel. Our method is to put a quart or more of sorghum syrup into any convenient vessel, and stew it down over a slow fire, as if making candy, stirring constantly until the syrup is burnt black; then pour it out into a greased plate to cool. The blackish porous mass thus obtained is pounded, when quite cold, in an iron mortar. We mix it with twice its bulk of ground coffee, and use a teaspoonful of this mixture for each person; thus one teaspoonful of caramel and two of coffee will make six cups of a beverage which, as far as taste is concerned, is far preferable to pure Rio coffee. The burnt molasses or caramel, attracts moisture when exposed to the air, and must, therefore, be kept in a close vessel. It would be well, for the same reason, to prepare it in small quantities. If the molasses is burnt too much, it is reduced to charcoal and loses all taste. By the way, though a very simple matter, many housekeepers do not know that it is perfectly easy to clear coffee by adding a small quantity of cold water, just as it "comes to a boil."

Next Week …..

Next week, just for a change of routine, we will dine in mid-nineteenth century France with the writer and gastronome, Baron Léon Brisse.

Quotation for the Day ….

Give a frontiersman coffee and tobacco, and he will endure any privation, suffer any hardship, but let him be without these two necessaries of the woods, and he becomes irresolute and murmuring. U.S. Army Lt. William Whiting (1849)

Solstice Syrups.

Today, June 21^st

This day is the Solstice – the day the sun seems to stand still. In the Northern Hemisphere it is the Summer Solstice, the longest day and shortest night of the year, and in the Southern Hemisphere it is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day and the longest night. Since very very ancient times these celestial marks of the turn of the seasons have been celebrated all over the world, and the celebrations have been adapted and appropriated to varying cultures and religions. The classic example is the adoption of the Northern Winter Solstice customs to the Christmas season, so that we now do not associate fires and fruit cake with the movement of the sun at all (and they have an uncomfortable fit at Christmas in the Southern Hemisphere where it is Summer).

It seems to me – us now being global citizens and all – that the celebration of the Solstices is worthy of reviving. Not in the sense of religious worship, but in the sense of acknowledgement of this wonderful planet and the cycle of the seasons. A twice-yearly, truly global, non-sectarian celebration. Does the world need that? Would it be fun?

I would love to hear your own solstice celebration ideas.

Last year I gave you some ‘Snow’ recipes to represent the Winter Solstice here in the Southern hemisphere. This time I give you some recipes inspired by the Summer Solstice, which those of you in the Northern half of the globe are celebrating.

I have chosen some fruit syrups or cordials which may be used to make refreshing drinks. It may be that we will all need more cooling beverages in the future, if we cannot solve the problem of global warming. In the meanwhile, if you are in the Southern Hemisphere and feeling chilly, make the drinks anyway, and add a nip of the warming draft of your choice.

The recipes are from Cassells Dictionary of Cookery (1870’s), and appear under the heading Summer Beverages.

Quince Syrup.
Grate quinces, pass the pulp through a sieve, then set it before the fire for the juice to settle and clarify; strain and add a pound of sugar (boiled down) to every four ounces of juice; remove from the fire , and when cold bottle for use. A table-spoon of this syrup will flavour a pint of water.

Rasberry Vinegar [syrup]
This is made by squeezing the juice of three quarts of raspberries into a quart of vinegar, and then simmering the vinegar for about a quarter of an hour with two pounds of sugar in an earthen pipkin not glazed with lead. When cold it is to be corked; and a small spoonful of water makes it a very cooling and refreshing drink.

Lemon Syrup.
Boil six ounces of sugar in a pint of water until it is dissolved. Let it cool, then add a quarter of a pint of lemon-juice and half a drachm of essence of lemon. Mix thoroughly, and bottle for use. Sufficient: two tablespoonfuls of syrup to a tumblerful of cold water.

If your solstice celebrations demand cake, I offer you my recipe for Summer Solstice Cake (originally made for the Southern Hemisphere Christmas).

Tomorrow's Story ...

May Harrods Suggest … ?

Quotation for the Day …

The right food always comes at the right time. Reliance on out-of-season foods makes the gastronomic year an endlessly boring repetition. Roy Andries de Groot.