The painting is attributed to Gillis Van Tibong (1625-1678).
I wanted to know more about the guy, so I googled his
name, but, alas, found nothing. I will keep looking, tho.
________

ARTIST UPDATE: I found two versions of the artist’s name,*
Gillis van Tilborch and van Tilborgh. Sometimes, both were
used in the same article. Not sure what’s up with that. He
was a prolific Flemish painter. Born in Brussels, he lived
most of his life there, although he did venture to England
to work on a commissioned family portrait. As to this work,
interestingly, its title is “A Barn Interior.” For more details,
check out this page from not-always-correct-Wikipedia or
here for additional paintings.

*Yep, I got it wrong above! dagnabit. Sorry ’bout that.
____________________

HUZZAH!

____________________

NOTE: To see the painting shown previously that depicted
a 17th Century reflector oven (“Number 1″), click here.

Now, for the posset, ideally we needed an authentic
posset pot. Or at the very least, a fairly reasonable,
period-correct, reproduction. Fortunately for us, we
had such a vessel, for one of our instructors, Nancy
Webster, had brought hers. Interestingly, she’d found
it on e-Bay. Apparently, a few years ago the cosmetics
company Avon had the pots made, and then they were
“awarded” to the Company’s top sellers. Who knew?!
Of course, I have to wonder what folks thought after
receiving one. Perhaps, “What the heck is THIS?!” and
“Just WHAT do I do with it?!” LOL In any event, one
such high-sales “gift” was eventually auctioned off,
it was purchased, and now it was to hold our posset.

So, to make this long story at least a tiny bit shorter,
since last spring, I’ve been yearning, and patiently
looking and waiting, for another Avon posset pot
to come up for bid on e-Bay. Then, lo and behold, it
recently did! I just happened to look one day, and
there it was; I bid, and I won! HUZZAH!

And so, without further ado, here’s my newly-acquired
reproduction posset pot:

Here’s the receipt we used during Deb’s 2011 Historic
Foodways Symposium at Pennsbury Manor (PA). It’s
taken from Robert May’s The Accomplisht Cook (1685,
5th edition):

To make a Posset simple.
Boil your milk in a clean scowred skillet,
and when it boils take it off, and warm
in the pot, bowl, or bason some sack,
claret, beer, ale, or juyce of orange;
pour it into the drink, but let not your
milk be too hot, for it will make the curd
hard, then sugar it.

I’m SO excited! I can hardly wait to use it. HUZZAH!!

____________________

*NOTE: I must give a hale ‘n hearty HUZZAH! to the members
of my hearth cooking team: Bill Martell of The Griffith Morgan
House, NJ; and Jacob Fish, of Long Island, NY.

of a more historical nature in the Farmhouse kitchen. There,
the main focus was the Mighty Cow and the role she played
in the life of a typical 18th century farm family during the
Spring months and beyond. Thus, we churned butter and
drank the resulting buttermilk, made cheese, and cooked
up dozens and DOZENS of yummy Curd Fritters. Visitors
also enjoyed butter that I’d churned previously (with its
buttermilk, of course) and cheese that I’d made. Oh, and
mustn’t forget, we also made toast.

Now, the attendance that day at the Farm may’ve been
“normal,” but for me, it was downright amazing! I was
just blown away by the number of people who stopped
by to see what I was doing at the hearth. And they just
kept coming! It reminded me of my days at Conner Prairie
long ago. It also created quite a multi-ring circus. Whether
slicing bread, offering butter churning hints, flipping curd
fritters, or warming milk for the cheese, I was kept busy
non-stop. At times, it seemed nigh overwhelming, but
thankfully, I hung in there! And I had some marvelous
conversations with folks, both singly and in groups.
Overall, I’d say it was a very productive AND highly
enjoyable day! HUZZAH!

As for photos, well…unfortunately, finding a few spare
moments for taking any was difficult. Hence, what you
see below is it. Maybe I’ll get more next time? Or not!
Oh, and for those interested, the Curd Fritter receipt
(recipe) follows at the end. Enjoy!

____________________

The receipt I used both here and at The Crane House (see
previous post) is from Eliza Smith’s cookbook The Compleat
Housewife (1727):

To make Curd Fritters.
Take a handful of curds, a handful
of flour, ten eggs well beaten and
strained, some sugar, some cloves,
mace, nutmeg, and a little saffron;
stir all well together, and fry them
in very hot beef-dripping; drop
them in the pan by spoonfuls;
stir them about till they are
of a fine yellow brown; drain
them from the suet, and scrape
sugar on them, when you serve
them up.

Now, there’s one line in the above receipt that I think may
be a mistake, as in a typo. Or perhaps, it’s the result of just
plain ol’ poor editing. Maybe it should even be eliminated
entirely. Whatever it is, I believe the words:

…stir them about till they
are of a fine yellow brown;

should follow, or be combined, with:

…a little saffron; stir all
well together.

It just doesn’t make sense as it is. Besides, I found a great
co-supporter, if you will, of this theory: Hannah Glasse. You
see, she stole, er, borrowed Smith’s receipt for her The Art
of Cookery, made [sic] Plain and Easy (1747), In addition
to making the whole a bit more concise, she removed
the offending sentence! To wit:

Curd Fritters.
Having a Handful of Curds, and
a Handful of Flour, and ten Eggs,
well beaten and strained, some
Sugar, Cloves, Mace, and Nutmeg
beat, a little Saffron; stir all well
together, and fry them quick, and
of a fine light-brown.

See? That seemingly extraneous, nonsensical set of words
is gone, and no harm done. Way to go, Hannah! HUZZAH!

_________________________

NOTE: I’ve made Curd Fritters many times. For more in-depth
information on this delectable delight, see this page and then
this one for details about a specific ingredient.

That is, until the Monday prior, when I received a call from
the folks at the Queens County Farm Museum. They asked
if I could do some hearth cooking
in the Adriance Farmhouse Sunday,
May 6, during that site’s annual
“Spring Celebration.” Yes, it was
rather late notice, for sure, but
I SO enjoyed cooking with the
teachers’ group back in March,
and the day was open, and well, long story short, I agreed
to do it. HUZZAH!

Needless to say, things changed pretty quickly with regard
to my “menu” at the Crane House. After figuring out with
my contact at the Queens Farm what I’d cook on Sunday
(more on that later), I decided to ditch what I’d initially
planned for Crane’s. And so, my main dish was one that
I also did on Sunday: curd fritters. My reasons for taking
this route were, to make it easier for myself, and to gain
some practice in fritter making and frying (even though
I’ve made them MANY times before). We also had some
recently-churned butter with crackers on Saturday, along
with the last of my stash of salt pork. And since a good-sized
crowd of visitors was on hand, it all disappeared in no time.
HUZZAH!

Now, I didn’t have too many opportunities to take photos,
but here are a few:

Salt pork and a few of the curd fritter ingredients:

The curd fritter batter is mixed and ready to go:

Saffron, soaked in a bit of water, goes in last:

Fry ‘em up:

Delicious curd fritters…get ‘em before they disappear!:

I’ll give the receipt I used in the next post.

The fire has died out and a glorious day of hearth cooking
(my last until next fall, by the way), has come to an end:

____________________

NEXT: On to the Queens County Farm Museum!

So, without further ado, here are a few scenes, and some
receipts (recipes), from that day. Let the fun begin!

First up, from Amelia Simmons’ American Cookery (1796):

To stuff and roast four Chickens.
Six ounces salt pork, half loaf bread,
six ounces butter, 3 eggs, a handful
of parsley shredded fine, summer-
savory, sweet marjoram; mix the
whole well together, fill and sew
up; roast one hour, baste with
butter, and dust on flour.

Next, from the Ashfield Family’s (of New York and New Jersey)
manuscript cookbook (1720s-1780s)*:

81. To make a Tansey to Bake
Take 18 Eggs and beat them well.
Put to them a quart of Cream and
the Crumb of a Stale penny Loaf
grated fine, one Nutmegg grated,
a little Salt, a Spoonfull of Orange
flower water, as much juice of Spinage
and Tansey as will make it green.
Sweeten it to your tast and put it
in your dish. Strew over it a quarter
of a pound of melted Butter. Put it
into a moderate Oven. Half an hour
will bake it. When you take it out,
Strew it with loaf Sugar and garnish
your dish with Oranges cut in Quarters.

Then it was on to:

Peeres in Confyt. XX. VI. XII.
Take peeres and pare hem clene.
take gode rede wyne &. mulberes
oper saundres and seep pe peeres
perin & whan pei buth ysode,
take hem up, make a syryp of
wyne greke. oper vernage with
blaunche powdour oper white
sugur and powdour gyngur & do
the peres perin. seep it a lytel
& messe it forth.

from The Forme of Cury, the published version of the manuscript
compiled by the Master Cooks at the Court of England’s King
Richard II (1399-1420):

Ahhh, there’s just nothing like a crackling fire:

Finding an original, historic receipt for cornbread has always
been mighty difficult. So I usually fall back on my recollections
of what we did when I worked at Conner Prairie long ago.
Thus, our somewhat “mo-dern” cornbread (made according
to my own recipe)**:

In addition, we cooked one of my favorites, “Salmon in Cases,”
courtesy of Hannah Glasse’s The Art of Cookery, made [sic] Plain
and Easy. We also churned butter.

Finally, our sumptuous mid-day meal is served. Let’s eat!:

‘Til next time!

_________________________

* Published as Pleasures of Colonial Cooking, by The New Jersey
Historical Society, Newark, NJ (1982).
**There’s been a discussion about this very subject on one
of Plimoth Plantation’s blogs. I wanted to provide a link to it,
but, dagnabit, I can’t remember which one it was!

Okay, here we go…

Everything’s set out and ready:

the potato pudding’s prepped and ready to bake:

The receipt for my “Potatoe [sic] Pudding” came from the Leffert’s
manuscript cookbook. This little volume is part of the collection
of Lefferts Family Papers located at the Brooklyn Historical Society

(BHS) of Brooklyn, NY. Most likely, it was written at some point
in the 1830s. I’ve visited BHS several times to study this small
historical document, and it’s quite fascinating (more on it later).
In addition, when I did hearth cooking at the Lefferts historic
house (in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park) several years ago, I made
numerous dishes found therein. So it was great fun to make this
baked pudding again!

Here’s the receipt, taken from the “Puddings and Custards” section
of the manuscript:

33. Potatoe Puding.
Boil the potatoes very dry skin them and
rub them through a sieve to 1 lb. of potato
add 1 pt cream 7 eggs 6 oz. of butter
lemon juice sugar and nutmeg to your
taste, bake it with or without paste.*

TA-DA! It’s nearly done.

Visitors to the House that afternoon ate up my “Potatoe Pud”
so quickly, that I wasn’t able to get a photo of the finished
dish. dagnabit.

Now, regular readers will recall my recent experiments in cooking
“Salmon in Cases” in reflector ovens. Well, it was so much fun,
I wanted to do it again. In fact, by this time I’d also decided that
we’d make them during our hearth cooking class on April 15, so
I figured a little more practice couldn’t hurt! In any event, I made
them, again following Hannah Glasse’s receipt from her cookbook
The Art of Cookery, made [sic] Plain and Easy (1747).

Cut your Salmon into little Pieces…

…butter the Inside of the Paper well…

…season it with Pepper, Salt and Nutmeg…

…fold the Paper so as nothing can come out, then lay them on
a Tin Plate to be baked…a Tin Oven before the Fire does best.

What fun! HUZZAH!

_______________

*NOTE: Most all the receipts in the Lefferts book are written in pen.
However, here the word “paste” is written in pencil. That one word
was probably added later. Also, on the page where this receipt appears,
it is written as “28. Potato Pudding.”

The premise I created for the day was that I was knee-deep in
preparations for a mid-day meal when the roughly 60 teachers,
divided into two separate groups, arrived. The day’s meal was
to consist of roast chicken, boiled parsnips, a carrot pudding,
and toasted bread with freshly churned butter. And, luckily
for me, all these wonderful helpers showed up just in time
to assist. HUZZAH!

Now, we didn’t have enough time to do every dish, start to finish.
And thus, some of the work had either been completed previously
or was well on its way. For instance, the carrots for the pudding
had already been cooked, mashed, and strained “thro a sive,”
the Naples Biskets had not only been baked, but a few had
also been grated, and I had pre-churned the butter that was
to be slathered on our toast. I’d even baked a Carrot Pudding
in advance, so folks could see what it looked like. However,
there were certainly plenty of other chores for my assistants
to do: paring and cutting parsnips; grating all the remaining
Biskets; slicing bread for toast; and combining the ingredients
for our Carrot Pud, including the pureed carrots, the grated
Biskets, the cream, the eggs, sugar, and the Orange flower
water. Oh, and more butter was churned for our toast. And
can’t forget Mr. Chicken! He was already roastin’ on the spit
of the reflector oven when the teachers arrived.

Of course, while all these various and assorted activities
were taking place, I was having a simply marvelous time
talking non-stop to the two groups and explaining all the
hows, whys, whens, what- and where-fores of each task.
It was definitely great fun! I was reminded of many similar
joy-filled days back when I worked at Conner Prairie. I know
the teachers enjoyed it, too. I was even told later that our
cooking segment was deemed “a tremendous success.” In
fact, one teacher commented she was so well transported
back in time by the experience, that she was nigh convinced
I truly WAS from the 18th century. HUZZAH!

Unfortunately, I was so, SO busy, that I wasn’t able to get
any pictures. dagnabit. In fact, sadly, I got only one, and it
was taken towards the very end:

Now, as many of my readers probably know, carrot puddings are
one of my favorite dishes. My usual receipt of choice can be found
in E. Kidder’s Receipts of Pastry and Cookery (1740), the manuscript
cookbook of Edward Kidder, a professional baker. The teachers and
I followed his receipt:

A Carrot Pudding.
Boyl 2 large carrots, when cold
pound them, in a mortar, strain
them thro a sive, mix them nth
two grated biskets, ½ a pound
of butter, sack and Orange flower
water, Sugar and a little Salt, a pint
of cream mixt with 7 yolks of eggs
and two whites, beat these together
and put them in a dish covered and
garnished. “Good”*

And, in case anyone is wondering what they look like, here’s
a photo of one I made awhile back for another event:

*handwritten notation
Also, I’d like to give a hale ‘n hearty HUZZAH shout-out to Chris
(sorry, I didn’t get her last name…tsk), one of the educators
at the Queens Farm, for all her help that day. She knew just
where to find exactly the bowl or poker or whatever that
I needed. I couldn’t have done it without her! HUZZAH!

______________________________

NEXT: My “Big Week” finally ends

TA-DA! The Naples Biskets:

Hmmm, do I see a Carrot Pudding in my future?:

Naples Biskets were typically made to be used in other dishes.
However, I did find awhile back an instance in a period novel
where they were eaten by themselves. And although receipts
for Naples Biskets are ubiquitous, they also tend to be quite
different from one another. I have two that I frequently use,
and both are unique. The one below is what I employed this
round. It’s taken from John Nott’s The Cooks and Confectioners
Dictionary, (1726, 3rd edition):

To make Naples Biskets.
Take a Pound and half of fine Flour,
and as much double-refined Sugar,
twelve Eggs, three Spoonfuls of
rose-water, and an Ounce and half
of Carraway-seeds finely powdered,
mix them all well together with Water;
then put them into tin-plates, and bake
them in a moderate Oven, dissolve some
Sugar in Water, and glaze them over.

As for the CHNY program, it was to feature Anne Willan, who’s
written a book based on the vast collection of historic cookbooks
she and her husband have acquired through the years. In keeping
with that “history” theme, original receipts selected from works
in the Willan’s collection were sent out to those who’d be creating
the evening’s refreshments. Before seeing all of them, I picked
the one for Seed Cake. I’ve made them before, so I figured it’d
be fairly quick ‘n easy, especially considering the somewhat
limited time I’d have that week.

Unfortunately, this is the only picture I have of my Seed Cake:

Below is the receipt. It’s from The Compleat Housewife,
by E. Smith (1727):

To make a fine Seed Cake or Nun’s Cake
Take four pounds of your finest flour,
and three pounds of double-refin’d
sugar beaten and sifted, mix them
together, and dry them by the fire
till you prepare your other materials.
Take four pounds of butter, beat it
in your hands till it is very soft like
cream, then beat thirty-five eggs,
leave out sixteen whites, and strain
out the treddles of the rest, and beat
them and the butter together till all
appears like butter; put in four or five
spoonfuls of rose or orange-flower-
water, and beat it again; then take
your flour and sugar, with six ounces
of carraway-seeds, and strew it in
by degrees, beating it up all the time
for two hours together; you may put
in as much tincture of cinamon or
ambergrease as you please; butter
your hoop, and let it stand three
hours in a moderate oven.

Now, I’ve made a few Seed Cakes in the past, and I’ve always
used a receipt in Hannah Glasse’s The Art of Cookery (1747),
which, coincidentally, just happens to be an exact match to
the one above! So I announced to everyone that perhaps
Ms. Willan had made a mistake, that it should be attributed
to Glasse and not Smith. Well, not so fast! Turns out this is,
most definitely, courtesy of Smith’s book; seems it’s Glasse
who stole, er, “borrowed,” it from her. Oops. Silly me!

However, soon after I felt somewhat vindicated when I noticed
that the receipt Willan sent for “A Crookneck or Winter Squash
Pudding,” which she stated is from Lucy Emerson’s cookbook,
The New England Cookery (1808), is indeed a mistake. You see,
Emerson plagiarized, lock, stock ‘n barrel, Amelia Simmons’
American Cookery (1796). Tsk! (And an “oops, silly me”
for Ms. Willan.)

__________________________________

NEXT: Teachers and Carrot Puddings at the Queens County
Farm Museum and a return to the Crane House

Besides, a report on my most recent hearth cooking adventures is
long overdue. And there were several during the week of March 26
to April 1. Three, to be exact; well, four, if you count making a dish
for the Culinary Historians of New York’s (CHNY) program. In any
event, it began with Homeschool Day at the Israel Crane House,
followed by CHNY, then a Teachers Professional Development
Workshop at the Queens County Farm Museum, and finally,
it ended with a return to the Crane House. Whew!

My Big Week was filled with varied and numerous preparations,
as well. It seemed that I was constantly slicing, mixing, mashing,
cooking, and/or baking something. Not to mention all the planning
that’d been done days, even weeks, previously, including deciding
what dishes to make, selecting the receipts (recipes) to be used,
and developing the menus for each particular hearth cooking
session. Then throw in all the scurrying from one grocery store
to another to yet another, as I attempted to procure the required
ingredients for most of the dishes. Ahh, what a life: keeps me busy
and outta trouble. Besides, I absolutely love it! HUZZAH!

Okay. Onward. Let the hearth cooking adventures begin!

First up, I headed to the Crane House on Tuesday for the semi-annual
Homeschool Day. I had a fantastic time with all the young’uns, as we
learned the secrets of hearth cooking (with a few chores thrown in,

just for good measure, of course). We made toast and ate it with
pre-churned butter on top, as we churned some new. Then we fried
up a bit o’ salt pork, which greased the pan for lots of subsequent
Indian Slapjacks, made according to a receipt from Amelia Simmons’
American Cookery (1796) (it follows the photos, below).

____________________

Here is the receipt from Simmons’ American Cookery (1796):

Indian Slapjack.
One quart milk, 1 pint of Indian meal,
4 eggs, 4 spoons of flour, little salt,
beat together, baked on griddles, or
fry in a dry pan, or baked in a pan
which has been rub’d with suet,
lard or butter.

__________________________________
NEXT: Seed Cakes and Carrot Puddings

_______________

I recently re-discovered a fantastic video series that I’d
like to share. Entitled “Tales from the Green Valley,” it
follows five historical experts as they spend 12 months
“living” in the year 1620 on an historical working farm
located along the Welsh borders (so yes, it’s British).
The work they do, the activities in which they engage,
and the challenges they face are all applicable to any
farm in any area during any pre-modern time period.
I hope everyone enjoys them as much as I do.

Comprised of 12 episodes, a playlist of the series exists
on youtbube, wherein one is shown right after another.
Believe me, this feature makes it much easier to view
each episode, rather than doing each one separately
and trying to figure out if E2P1-3 comes before or after
E1P2-5. Now, it will seem as if there are more than 12,
and there sorta are, because the playlist shows the
series in only 15 minute increments. It just means you
can watch as much or as little as you like. In the end,
believe me, it will be well worth it. I guarantee that
you will learn so much, and you’ll gain a very realistic
glimpse into 17th century farm life. HUZZAH!

______________________________