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Posts Tagged ‘Eliza Leslie’

As mentioned previously,
I made small cakes known
as “Apees” this past month
for use at the Israel Crane
House
during the annual
Essex County (NJ) Holiday
Historic House Tour. They
seemed to be a big hit with all the folks who came
to visit, as there were no leftovers. HUZZAH!

Here’s the receipt (recipe) I followed. It’s from the first
edition (1828) of Seventy-Five Receipts, for Pastry, Cakes,
and Sweetmeats
, by “A Lady of Philadelphia” (otherwise
known as Eliza Leslie):

APEES.
A pound of flour, sifted.
Half a pound of butter.
A glass of wine, and a tablespoonful
of rose-water, mixed.
Half a pound of powdered white sugar.
A nutmeg, grated.
A tea-spoonful of beaten cinnamon
and mace.
Three table-spoonfuls of carraway seeds.

Sift the flour into a broad pan,
and cut up the butter in it. Add
the carraways, sugar, and spice,
and pour in the liquor by degrees,
mixing it well with a knife. If the
liquor is not sufficient to wet it
thoroughly, add enough of cold
water to make it a stiff dough.
Spread some flour on your paste-
board, take out the dough, and
knead it very well with your hands.
Put it into small pieces, and knead
each separately, then put them
all together, and knead the whole
in one lump. Roll it out in a sheet
about a quarter of an inch thick.
Cut it out in round cakes, with
the edge of a tumbler, or a tin
of that size. Butter an iron pan,
and lay the cakes in it, not too
close together. Bake them a few
minutes in a moderate oven, till
they are very slightly coloured,
but not brown. If too much baked,
they will entirely lose their flavour.
Do not roll them out too thin.

Interestingly, I frequently made Apees decades ago (eeegad!)
when I worked at the then-living history museum Conner Prairie.
They were baked in the cast iron stove and served with afternoon
tea at the Campbell House. Now, at this stage of the game, I really
only remember two things about making them all those years ago:
that they should be nearly all-white when taken out of the oven;
and that they were made with sour cream.

So, then, um, uh…wait a minute…made with what?! Sour cream?!?
Nooooo, that can’t be right! Can it? Surely the…what? Why?!?

Stay tuned….

____________________

NEXT: Got sour cream?!?

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For two days this past December,
The Israel Crane House was again
included in the group of properties
that comprised the Essex County
(NJ) Historic Holiday House Tour.

Of course, just like last year, I was
busy at the hearth in the kitchen,
chatting with all the visitors, while
cooking a dish or two. A lovely array of historically-appropriate
winter-season foods graced the kitchen table, as well. As usual,
I had a grand time talking to folks as they sampled the various
dishes. HUZZAH!

And so, just what was included in this spread of historic foods?
Of course, I began planning the “menu” weeks in advance. I
didn’t want to repeat last year’s offerings entirely, but at the
same time, I didn’t want to start from scratch, either. So I kept
many of last year’s dishes, particularly those that were popular
(mincemeat pie, gingerbread cakes, pounded cheese, etc.), and
added a few new. Most were prepared/cooked during the week
preceding the Tour; only two were made on-site while visitors
came and went. A few others, such as a smoked ham, chestnut
“innards,” and candied orange peels, were store-bought. Oh,
and yes, all of it was meant to be eaten. HUZZAH!

_______________

Okay. Like last year, I made two types of small cakes (aka our
modern cookies): Apees and Gingerbread Cakes. The latter
were the “repeats” and the former the new.

First up, the Apees:

By the way, those little black specks are caraway seeds:

The receipt (recipe) came from Eliza Leslie’s book Seventy-Five
Receipts, for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats
(1828):

Ready for the oven:

Looking mighty good:

A plateful of Apees:

____________________

NEXT: Eliza Leslie’s Apees receipt

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Any special occasion was excuse enough to serve punch….

So says Richard J. Hooker, author of Food and Drink in America,
A History
(1981). Yes, bowls of punch frequently graced many
a table during the 18th and early 19th centuries in America,
particularly those of the upper class. Of course, it could be
made with just about any liquor, but the frequent, and most
preferred, choice was a fine, strong, Jamaican rum.

However, while the elite enjoyed a good punch, they were
most definitely not alone in enjoying rum itself. Far from it!
All members of society likely partook of a glass or two now
and then. In fact, rum quickly became the number one drink
of choice for members of the working class: the carpenters;
the fishermen; the soldiers ‘n sailors; the field hands; and
so on. Of course, as demand for a bottle o’ rum grew, so
did the number of distilleries. According to Hooker:

…the number of New England distilleries
multiplied, especially in Massachusetts
and Rhode Island. By 1763 there were
159 distilleries making rum in New England….

Thus, armed with this knowledge, I continued brewing my
“Fine Milk [rum] Punch” for a session of Andy Smith’s class
on early American beverages at The New School.

_______________

Okay. I’ve steeped the pared peels of nine lemons in a quart
of rum for 24 hours. On to the next step:

Then mix with it the juice of the lemons…

…a pound and a half of loaf-sugar…

…two grated nutmegs, and a quart of water.

Add a quart of rich unskimmed milk, made boiling hot…

Now, “unskimmed milk” means, essentially, straight from the cow.
It would be milk that still contains all the cream that eventually
settles out (or rather, rises up, to the top). Fortunately, there’s
a high-end grocery near me that sells non-homogenized whole
milk. Huzzah! And so I used that. I also added about a quarter
cup or so of heavy cream for good measure.

…and strain the whole through a jelly-bag.

(I used a finely-woven cheesecloth)

I made sure to squeeze out every last drop, leaving behind nothing
but scrunched-up lemon peels:

And it’s ready to go! First though, I grated a little nutmeg on top
and conducted a taste-test:

Pretty tasty. I think Andy and company enjoyed it that Monday
night, as well. HUZZAH!

____________

Here’s the receipt I used, in its entirety, from Eliza Leslie’s Directions
for Cookery, in its Various Branches
(10th edition, 1840):

FINE MILK PUNCH.

Pare off the yellow rind of nine
large lemons, and steep it for
twenty-four hours in a quart
of brandy or rum. Then mix
with it the juice of the lemons,
a pound and a half of loaf-sugar,
two grated nutmegs, and a quart
of water. Add a quart of rich
unskimmed milk, made boiling
hot, and strain the whole
through a jelly-bag. You may
either use it as soon as it is
cold, or make a larger quantity,
(in the above proportions,) and
bottle it. It will keep several months.

For comparison, here is the punch receipt that Benjamin Franklin
wrote in a letter to his friend James Bowdoin, on October 11, 1763.
Note the similarities and differences between this and the above:

To make Milk Punch.
Take 6 quarts of Brandy, and the Rinds
of 44 Lemons pared very thin; Steep
the Rinds in Brandy 24 Hours, then
strain it off. Put to it 4 Quarts
of Water, 4 Large Nutmegs grated,
2 Quarts of Lemon Juice, 2 pounds
of double refined Sugar. When the
Sugar is dissolv’d boil 3 Quarts
of Milk and put to the rest hot
as you take it off the Fire, and
stir it about. Let it stand 2 Hours;
then run it thro’ a Jelly-bag till
it is clear; then bottle it off.

__________

Opening illustration from the cover of Early American Taverns: For
the Entertainment of Friends and Strangers
, by Kym S. Rice (1983).

____________________

NEXT: the beverage made without rum

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As I mentioned in my previous post, I also
made raspberry ice cream for the recent
session of the “Edible Conversations” series
that is held regularly at the Roger Smith Hotel.
As you may recall, Laura Weiss, author of Ice
Cream: A Global History
, was the event’s speaker.

This time, I used Eliza Leslie’s receipt (recipe)
for raspberry ice cream from her book 75 Receipts
for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats
(1828). Although
this batch was churned in my sorbetiere during the event, I had made
the mixture in advance. Things were a bit simpler this round, as well,
because Leslie’s raspberry isn’t custard-based and thus didn’t require
any eggs or cooking. HUZZAH!

_________________________

the lovely raspberries:

mashed to a pulp and mixed with cream and some sugar:

pass it all through a sieve:

raspberry-infused cream:

ready to be made into some delicious ice cream:

raspberry remains:

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take any pictures that night.
However, I did bring the leftovers home, and I managed to get
a few shots of this luscious and yummy raspberry ice cream.

I also filled a couple of small moulds (aka ramekins). Oooh, purty!

Of course, you’re supposed to take the ice cream OUT of the mould
before eating. I tried, but it didn’t work very well. Besides, I couldn’t
wait to dig in!

_________________________

Here’s the complete receipt from 75 Receipts for Pastry, Cakes,
and Sweetmeats
, by A Lady of Philadelphia (Eliza Leslie):

ICE CREAM.
A quart of rich cream.
Half a pound of powdered loaf-sugar.
The juice of two large lemons, or a pint
of strawberries or raspberries.

________

Put the cream into a broad pan, and squeeze
the lemon juice into it, or stir in gradually
the strawberries or raspberries, which must
first be mashed to a smooth paste. Then stir
in the sugar by degrees, and when all is well
mixed, strain it through a sieve.

Put it into a tin that has a close cover,
and set it in a tub. Fill the tub with ice
broken into very small pieces, and strew
among the ice a large quantity of salt,
taking care that none of the salt gets
into the cream. Scrape the cream down
with a spoon as it freezes round the
edges of the tin. When it is all frozen,
dip the tin in lukewarm water; take out
the cream, and fill your glasses; but
not till a few minutes before you want
to use it, as it will very soon melt.

You may heighten the colour of the red
fruit, by a little cochineal.

________

If you wish to have it in moulds, put
the cream into them as soon as it has
frozen in the tin. Set the moulds in
a tub of ice and salt. Just before
you want to use the cream, take the
moulds out of the tub, wipe or wash
the salt, carefully from the outside,
dip the moulds in lukewarm water, and
turn out the cream.

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I had an absolute blast making ice cream this past Monday eve
during the “Edible Conversations” series at Manhattan’s Roger
Smith Hotel
. The night’s session, “Ice Cream: A Global History,”
featured Laura Weiss, author of the book with the same title.
Of course, she was the star of the proceedings, and I merely
played the “sidekick” who briefly discussed and demonstrated
the 18th century method of ice cream making.

For the event, two types and flavors were shared with gathered
guests: a custard-based vanilla that I made in advance, using
a receipt (recipe) that Thomas Jefferson copied while in France;
and a simple raspberry from Eliza Leslie’s 75 Receipts for Pastry,
Cakes, and Sweetmeats
(1828), which I froze on the spot.

Incidentally, although unbeknownst to me at the time, both receipts
are included in the recipe section at the back of Weiss’ book. How
serendipitous was it that I selected those two?! I couldn’t have
planned it better. HUZZAH!

First up, making Jefferson’s receipt for “Ice Cream.” It’s custard-
based, made of egg yolks, sugar, and cream, all of which is infused
with a vanilla bean while cooking:

_________________________

NEXT: The raspberry

Read Full Post »

Here’s one final receipt for carrot pudding. I promise. Well, for now.
(I think.) Anyway, it’s from the pages of Eliza Leslie’s Directions
for Cookery, in its Various Branches
(1840 ed.):

CARROT PUDDING.
May be made in the above manner.

Wow! That was easy. Oh wait, so what IS “the above manner”?
Well, the previous receipt is one for, drum roll, please, Sweet
Potato Pudding. HUZZAH! And although it seems fairly complex,
it’s actually quite simple and resembles other receipts written
specifically for carrots. I’ve made several white, or so-called
Irish, potato puddings, but none of sweets. One interesting
note on these, however, is that some experts (including
Elizabeth David) believe that any potato pudding written
prior to about 1800 automatically calls for sweet potatoes
and not white. Of course, most of those receipts would’ve
been primarily British. Nevertheless, this “theory” requires
additional research; something I began awhile back, but
haven’t continued, let alone completed. If any readers
out there in Internet-land know anything, please share!

In the meantime, here’s Eliza’s “above manner” which is
needed to make her carrot pudding (I trust all know
to substitute the words “sweet potato” with “carrot”):

____________________

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In 1837, Eliza Leslie followed up the publication of her
highly successful Seventy-five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes,
and Sweetmeats
(1828) with the larger work Directions
for Cookery in its Various Branches
. This new volume
contained receipts for a wide variety of dishes and,
like its predecessor, went through numerous editions.

Although many of the receipts found in one or more
editions of Seventy-five were included in Directions,
many were not. Some, altho included, were greatly
altered. For instance, New-Year’s Cake (1836 ed.)
didn’t make it. Neither did New-York Cup Cake. Well,
at least not in the same form. What was included, or
rather, what it became, was New York Cookies.

Or did it?

_________________________

New York Cookies.

Take a half-pint or a tumbler
full of cold water, and mix it
with half a pound of powdered
white sugar. Sift three pounds
of flour into a large pan and
cut up in it a pound of butter;
rub the butter very fine into
the flour. Add a grated nutmeg,
and a tea-spoonful of powdered
cinnamon, with a wine glass
of rosewater. Work in the sugar,
and make the whole into a stiff
dough, adding, if necessary,
a little cold water. Dissolve
a tea-spoonful of pearl-ash
in just enough of warm water
to cover it, and mix it in at the
last. Take the lump of dough
out of the pan, and knead
it on the paste-board till it
becomes quite light. Then
roll it out rather more than
half an inch thick, and
cut it into square cakes
with a jagging iron or with
a sharp knife. Stamp the
surface of each with a cake
print. Lay them in buttered
pans, and bake them of a
light brown in a brisk oven.

They are similar to what are
called New Year’s cakes, and
will keep two or three weeks.

In mixing the dough, you may
add three table-spoonfuls
of carraway seeds.

_________________________

Now, the ingredients are almost the same as those used
for New-York Cup Cakes (see 1/27), except there are no
eggs. The above also calls for water instead of milk and
rosewater instead of wine. The ingredient amounts are
different. There’s also kneading involved. And, possibly,
caraway seeds! Notice the combination of cup (half-pint
tumbler) and weight measurements, and the abandonment
of the ingredient-list-first format, as well.

In addition, they may be called “cookies,” but having been
rolled out at “more than a half inch thick,” it would seem
that they’re rather cake-like. And yet, isn’t that just what
a cookie is? A small cake-like treat? After all, the word
“cookie” is the Americanization of the Dutch word “koekje,”
which means “small or little cake.” Remember, too, back
when looking at the various New Year’s Cake receipts
in previous posts, that I often mentioned the end results
were small cakes and, thus, were more like what we would
classify today as cookies.

Incidentally, notice that Leslie writes:
“They are similar to what are called New Year’s Cakes….”
“Similar.” Not “the same”!
In fact, she has one receipt for New-Year’s Cake and
a separate, and different, one for New-York Cup Cake
in the 1836 edition of Seventy-five. (Which was
the first time she offered up either one.)

So, despite the similarities between the New-York Cup
Cake and the New York Cookie receipts, I’d have to say
that they are not the same. Again, they’re two separate,
and different, receipts. The cup cakes didn’t so much
become cookies as they were replaced with them.

Read Full Post »

Receipts for New Year’s Cake began to appear frequently
in 19th century published cookbooks. Here’s another,
from the ninth edition (1836) of Seventy-five Receipts
for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats
, by Eliza Leslie.
Interestingly, this was NOT included in her first edition
(1828) or any other earlier editions.

Other items of note in this receipt are: the layout,
with ingredients and their amounts listed separately,
followed by the instructions; the use of pearl-ash,
a leavening agent extracted from wood ashes,
instead of yeast; the amount of kneading; and
the option to apply a design.

The fun part, however, is the paragraph dealing
with the required kneading!

_________________________

NEW-YEAR’S CAKE.

Three pounds of flour, sifted.
A pound and a half of powered white sugar.
A pound of fresh butter.
A pint of milk with a small teaspoonful
of pearl-ash melted in it.
__________

Having sifted the flour, spread the sugar
on the paste-board, a little at a time,
and crush it to powder by rolling it
with the rolling-pin. Then mix it with
the flour. Cut up in the flour the butter
and mix it well by rubbing it in with your
hands. Add by degrees the milk. Then
knead the dough very hard, till it no
longer sticks to your hands. Cover it,
set it away for an hour or two, and then
knead it again in the same manner. You
may repeat the kneading several times.
Then cut it into pieces, roll out each piece
into a sheet half an inch thick. Cut it into
large flat cakes with a tin cutter. You may
stamp each cake with a wooden print,
by way of ornamenting the surface.

Sprinkle with flour some large flat tin or
iron pans, lay the cakes in them and bake
them of a pale brown, in an oven of equal
heat throughout.

These cakes require more and harder
kneading than any others, therefore
it is best to have them kneaded by
a man, or a very strong woman.

They are greatly improved by the addition
of some carraway seeds worked into the dough.

_________________________

NEXT: New Year’s Cake at home

Read Full Post »

Many early receipts for making ice cream were, at best, a bit
vague. Oftentimes, the author assumed you already knew what
to do. Here’s one, however, that, although it is basically similar
to many of the previous ones we’ve seen, it is also so specific
and detailed, anyone can follow it, whether now or 200 years ago.
It’s from Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes and Sweetmeats,
(1828), by A Lady of Philadelphia (aka Eliza Leslie). Note, too,
the different layout of the receipt itself, with the ingredients
listed first, followed by the instructions.

ICE CREAM.

A quart of rich cream.
Half a pound of powdered loaf-sugar.
The juice of two large lemons, or a pint of strawberries or raspberries.

Put the cream into a broad pan, and squeeze
the lemon juice into it, or stir in gradually
the strawberries or raspberries, which must
first be mashed to a smooth paste. Then stir
in the sugar by degrees, and when all is well
mixed, strain it through a sieve.
Put it into a tin that has a close cover, and set
it in a tub. Fill the tub with ice broken into very
small pieces, and strew among the ice a large
quantity of salt, taking care that none of the salt
gets into the cream. Scrape the cream down with
a spoon as it freezes round the edges of the tin.
When it is all frozen, dip the tin in lukewarm water;
take out the cream, and fill your glasses; but not
till a few minutes before you want to use it, as it
will very soon melt.
You may heighten the color of the red fruit, by
a little cochineal.*
___________

If you wish to have it in moulds, put the cream
into them as soon as it has frozen in the tin.
Set the moulds in a tub of ice and salt. Just
before you want to use the cream, take the
moulds out of the tub, wipe or wash the salt,
carefully from the outside, dip the moulds
in lukewarm water, and turn out the cream.

*cochineal: an insect; it is still used today for food coloring,
cosmetics, and fabric dying

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