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Posts Tagged ‘historic cookbooks’

Shortly after my recent self-proclaimed “Apple Day” at the Israel
Crane
House, the Culinary Historians of New York (CHNY) and
the Mount Vernon Hotel Museum (MVHM) together sponsored
a program at the latter’s facility. And wouldn’t you know it,
the almighty apple was once again the focus. HUZZAH!

Of course, this meant it was time to prepare another apple dish.
So I made a Cider Cake, using my go-to receipt (recipe) from the
manuscript cookbook of Mrs. Lefferts, who lived during the early
1800s in the then-town of Flatbush, near my own neighborhood
here in Brooklyn. Incidentally, in 1918 the Lefferts family home
was re-located to Prospect Park, where it was restored to its
1820s condition and then opened in 1920 as a museum.

When I first received my copy of the Cider Cake receipt several
years ago, the manuscript was in the Lefferts House archives.
Since then, however, all of the Family’s papers, including the
cookbook, were turned over to the Brooklyn Historical Society
(BHS). In fact, the collection has been digitized, and it can be
accessed online.

The cookbook, which is entitled simply “Mrs. Lefferts Book,”
was most likely started in the early 1830s (more on this later).
Here’s the receipt:

Cider Cake
2 lb of Flour 1 lb of Sugar 1/2 lb of Butter
1 lb of Raisins 1 pt of Cider 1 1/2 tea spoon
full of pearlash.

Interestingly enough, except for the ingredient amounts being
roughly doubled and the addition of raisins, the above is identical
to Mrs. Child’s receipt in her The American Frugal Housewife (12th
edition, 1833; 1st, 1832):

CIDER CAKE.
Cider cake is very good, to be baked
in small loaves. One pound and a half
of flour, half a pound of sugar, quarter
of a pound of butter, half a pint of cider,
one teaspoonful of pearlash; spice to your
taste. Bake till it turns easily in the pans.
I should think about half an hour.

I’m guessing, perhaps to Mrs. Lefferts, “spice to your taste”
meant adding raisins and nothing else. The call for pearlash
is another clue that she likely copied Mrs. Child’s receipt. In
addition, it means her manuscript wasn’t created until AFTER
the publication of American Frugal.

I also looked in various 18th century cookbooks for cider cake
receipts, but surprisingly found none. I then searched other
early to mid-19th century works (in addition to American Frugal)
and only found one other. It’s in The Kentucky Housewife (1839),
by Mrs. Lettice Bryan, and is quite different than the other two:

CIDER CAKE.
Beat together six ounces of butter, eight
ounces of sugar and two powdered nutmegs;
add six beaten eggs, a pint of sweet cider,
and enough flour to make it a thick batter.
Beat it very well, put it in a buttered pan,
and bake it in a moderate oven.

Note that the spice is specified (nutmeg) and that eggs are
used, thus enriching the batter and making it more cake-like.
Another big difference is the call for “sweet cider,” as opposed
to just simply cider, as in the previous two receipts. Of course,
the latter meant hard, fermented, alcoholic cider, as that was
the only kind available. Apple cider, once made, ferments easily
and quickly; it’s only thanks to modern methods and refrigeration
that sweet, non-alcoholic apple cider can be produced and sold.
And so a call specifically for “sweet” meant that which had just
been made, probably only hours earlier, before the natural, and
expected, process of fermentation had begun. I wonder, too,
if perhaps the call here for sweet was a result of this country’s
then-burgeoning temperance movement. At the same time,
this receipt IS from The KENTUCKY Housewife, so…maybe not!
Nevertheless, it’s rather curious.

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We had a great group of folks
at the recent (April 15) hearth
cooking class at the Israel Crane
House
. Everyone worked diligently
on all the various dishes, and I think
it’s safe to say that a fun time was
had by all. Of course, the absolute
BEST part was sitting down to enjoy
a lovely meal of delectable goodies
straight from the open fire. HUZZAH!

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!

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After spending a day happily sharing the joys of hearth
cooking with a gaggle of Homeschoolers (and eating the
results) at The Israel Crane House, my next Big Event was
to do basically more of the same with about 60 teachers
at the Queens County Farm Museum (QFM). I had devised
a “menu” for the QFM event about a month earlier, and so
I knew I needed to prepare several items a day or two
in advance, including baking a batch of Naples Biskets.
I also had a Seed Cake to make for the Culinary Historians
of New York (CHNY) program that was to take place the day
after my adventures at the Crane House. And believe me,
scheduling all these required cooking tasks during that
hectic week was vital! Thus, I spent that Sunday and
Monday baking both the Biskets and the Cake.

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

Read Full Post »

Okay. Back to my Yorkshire Pudding experiment. Sorry for the delay.
Although, you didn’t miss too much, as I only did one other! Now,
as you may recall (or not!), I used an 18th century receipt (recipe)
for the previous pudding (from Hannah Glasse’s The Art of Cookery).
I decided to jump ahead a few years, into the early 19th century,
for the second and selected the following from The Cook’s Oracle,
by William Kitchiner, M.D. (1831; first edition published 1817):

Yorkshire Pudding under Roast Meat,
the Gipsies’ way—(No. 529).

This pudding is an especially excellent
accompaniment to Sir-loin of Beef,—Loin
of Veal,—or any fat and juicy joint. Six
table-spoonsful of flour, three eggs,
a tea-spoonful of salt, and a pint
of milk—so as to make a middling
stiff batter, a little stiffer than you
would for pancakes; beat it up well,
and take care it is not lumpy; put
a dish under the meat, and let the
drippings drop into it till it is quite
hot and well greased; then pour in
the batter;—when the upper surface
is brown and set, turn it that both
sides may be brown alike; if you
wish it to cut firm, and the pudding
an inch thick, it will take two hours
at a good fire.
N.B. The true Yorkshire Pudding is about
half an inch thick when done; but it is
the fashion in London to make them
full twice that thickness.

TA-DA! Here it is:

This time, I followed the receipt as written (no halving of ingredients
or anything), as all the amounts were quite manageable. What was
interesting, however, is that this specifies “six table-spoonsful of flour,”
yet it also instructs the cook to make a “middling stiff batter,” and,
in fact, to make it:

a little stiffer than you
would for pancakes;

Really?! But with only six tablespoons of flour, that’s mighty difficult.
In fact, I’d say it’s nigh impossible! I used my reproduction pewter
“table spoon” to measure out the flour, and each spoonful was fairly
heaping. The resulting batter, however, was far from stiff, “middling”
or otherwise. I considered adding more flour, but I didn’t want to
deviate too much from the receipt. Besides, surely it was tested by
an assortment of 19th century cooks, yes? So maybe it was just my
mo-dern sensibilities of what constitutes “stiff”? Or…who knows?!
In any event, I just had to go with it and trust that it’d turn out
perfectly fine. And, lo and behold, it did! (see photo above)

Of course, as before, the cooking was done in my modern oven. No
telling how different things would’ve been if I’d been able to cook
either of my puddings as they would’ve been done centuries ago
(i.e. under roasting meat on a spit before a fire).

And then there are those three little words in the receipt’s title,
declaring this pudding is done per “the Gipsie’s way.” What does
that mean, exactly? What is the difference between how Gypsies
prepare it and how “regular” people do? How does that fit into
the equation? I have no idea, but I welcome any you may have!

However, it did seem a little egg-y. And a bit dense. It reminded
me of one of the quotes given with the Oxford English Dictionary’s
definition of Yorkshire Pudding:

1836
[Hooton] Bilberry Thurland 1. vii. 140
At the bottom of all…lay
about half an acre of sad
and heavy Yorkshire pudding,
like a leaden pancake.

It was, indeed, rather heavy and “like a leaden pancake”! But then,
the receipt DID say to mix up the batter “stiffer than you would for
pancakes”! So…I guess…”leaden” it is! Despite all that, however, it
tasted fine. It was even good re-heated the following day. Overall,
I deem it a success. Two Yorkshire Pudding receipts, both the same,
yet both different! HUZZAH!

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Here are the receipts (recipes) for the pumpkin pudding and
the apple tarts that I made recently at the Israel Crane House.
Both are from Amelia Simmons’ book American Cookery (1796).
As I mentioned previously, the fillings for each were cooked
down ahead of time. I used a basic pie crust, as well, rather
than the specific “pastes” that are given.

____________________

Pompkin.
No. I. One quart stewed and strained,
3 pints milk, six beaten eggs, sugar,
mace, nutmeg and ginger, laid into
paste No. 7, or 3, cross and chequer
it, and bake in dishes three quarters
of an hour.

Now, I only had about a pint of cooked pumpkin, so I cut this
receipt in half. In doing so, however, I think perhaps I erred
in the amounts of the other ingredients. I used three eggs
but I think two would’ve been enough. It IS a pudding, and
a custard-y one at that, but I thought the final result was
rather egg-y. And although I strained most of the cooked
pumpkin, I also left some of it chunky, hoping to make sure
the taste of it would be prominent. It might’ve been better,
however, to strain it all. Yet, at the same time, it was quite
good, as evidenced by those who had more than one piece!

____________________

Apple Tarts.
Stew and strain the apples, add cinnamon,
rose-water, wine and sugar to your taste,
lay in paste, No. 3. squeeze thereon orange
juice—bake gently.

I was very pleased at how these turned out. The apples were
tasty, so full of flavor, and the crust cooked just beautifully, very
light and flaky. And in this instance, retaining the chunky-ness
of the apples proved beneficial. They were so good, in fact,
that I even made a few more later at home!

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Pick up any 18th, or even 17th, century British cookery book,
whether published or manuscript, and you’ll more than likely
find a receipt (recipe) for Shrewsbury Cake. Or for that matter,
any cookbook, commercially printed and not, during the 18th or
early 19th centuries, here in this country. Yep, the Shrewsbury
Cake is virtually everywhere. It’s also a VERY English concoction.

At least, that’s what I discovered once I decided to make them
for display and eating purposes at the Israel Crane House this
past December. Once I began my research, looking through
a vast assortment of historic cookbooks, I found nearly two
dozen receipts. Whether it was the published work of Hannah
Wolley, Eliza Smith, and Mary Randolph, or the handwritten
records of an unknown housewife in the English countryside,
an anonymous lady of Virginia, or New Jersey’s own Polly
Burling,* receipts for Shrewsbury Cake are abundant.

Of course, finding all these receipts begs the question: Are
they all the same? Well, yes and no. The basic ingredients
are flour, sugar, butter, eggs, and usually one or more
spices. However, the quantities of each changes. As always,
some are sorta similar and others are quite different. Then
there are the exact or near-exact copies that were stolen,
er, borrowed directly from another cookbook (for example,
the receipts in E. Smith, Susannah Carter, and Elizabeth
Cleland are exactly the same).** The specific spices were
often different: some called for mace, nutmeg, cinnamon;
others gave only one or two of those, plus a little rosewater;
then there were a few that specified mace only or nutmeg

and cinnamon only, but with a little brandy instead of (or
at times, along with) the rosewater. One really interesting
receipt not only cut down the the number of eggs (which
was typically three or four) to just one, but it also added
milk (or cream). And finally, another, from a Medieval-era
work, includes it all: the basics of flour, sugar, butter, and
eggs; the spices; the rosewater; a liquor (altho sack instead
of brandy); AND “warm cream.”***

There’s more that I could mention, but I don’t want to bore
anyone. Maybe one of these days, I’ll do a more detailed
comparison of all the receipts (or not!). Suffice it to say
that, in the end, the main components and the overall
structure (the instructions) of each receipt is the same,
but there’s also a bit of creativity, if you will, thrown
in for good measure.

Of course, I’ve already stated that I used Amelia Simmons’
receipt from her book, American Cookery. However, I imagine
now you’re wondering, “Why?” Well, stay tuned!

___________________________________
___________________________________

*Hannah Wolley, The Queen-like Closet, England, 1672;
Eliza Smith, The Compleat Housewife, England, 1750
(1st ed. pub. 1727);
Mary Randolph, The Virginia Housewife, Baltimore, MD, 1836 ed.;
18th C British manuscript cookbooks in Egg Pies, Moss Cakes, and
Pigeons Like Puffins
, by Vincent DiMarco;
18th C American manuscripts in Colonial Virginia’s Cooking Dynasty,
by Katharine E. Harbury.
Polly Burling, A Book of Receipts April 1770, NJ.

** E. Smith: see above;
Susannah Carter, The Frugal Housewife, England, 1772;
Elizabeth Cleland, A New and Easy Method of Cookery, Edinburgh,
Scotland, 1755.

***William Kitchiner, M.D., The Cook’s Oracle, England, 1831
(1st ed. 1817);
Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery.

___________________________________
___________________________________

For more information on the above books, see the Library pages.

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It’s New Year’s Eve. Time to celebrate the end of 2010 and
the beginning of 2011. HUZZAH!

As I wrote last year at this time, the best way to celebrate
the dawn of any new year (at least, historically speaking)
would be to make New Year’s Cake. What could be better?!
Here’s a receipt (recipe) for this confection from Amelia
Simmon’s American Cookery (1796), which, as you may
know, was the first cookbook published in America that
was also written by an American. Now, if perchance you’re
going to try this, might I suggest that you cut the proportions!

_______________

New Year’s Cake.

Take 14 pound flour, to which add
one pint milk, and one quart yeast,
put these together over night, and
let it lie in the sponge till morning,
5 pound sugar and 4 pound butter,
dissolve these together, 6 eggs
well beat, and carroway seed; put
the whole together, and when light
bake them in cakes, similar to breakfast
biscuit, 20 minutes.

_______________

Note yeast is used, much like with bread. There’s the usual
flour, sugar, and eggs. Then “carroway” seeds, making this,
in essence, a spice cake. Notice, too, it says to “bake them
in cakes” that are “similar to…biscuit.” In other words, this
is a receipt for making little cakes, or what we call cookies.
Up until the late 18th century, and even way into the 19th,
the word “cake” could mean several things: what we refer
to as a cake, large or small; what we’d call a cookie; and
even a biscuit. All are usually grouped together in the same
chapter of historic cookbooks, as well. And don’t forget, even
today, if you ever find yourself hankering for a cookie while
in jolly ol’ England, you’ll need to be sure to ask for a biscuit.

Nevertheless, HAPPY NEW YEAR to one and all! Here’s
to a fantastic 2011. HUZZAH!

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As I said previously, when we made
a carrot pudding during a Fireside
Feasts
program out at Wyckoff,
we didn’t use Kidder’s receipt. Or,
at least, I don’t think we did. Well,
actually, I’m really not quite sure.
Heck, it was three summers ago. I’ve slept since then!

So, if we didn’t use Kidder’s, what did we use? Well, I think it was
the one below, from The Cook Not Mad, or Rational Cookery, which
was published by Knowlton & Rice in Watertown, NY (1830). As my
fuzzy memory recalls, we used it because it was a bit simpler. It’s
included on the “Receipt Sheets” that were given to participants.
It’s also about the briefest one I’ve found:

____________________

No. 88. Carrot Pudding.
A coffee cup full of boiled and strained
carrots, five eggs, sugar and butter
of each two ounces, cinnamon and
rose water to your taste, bake in a
deep dish without paste, one hour.

____________________

Of course, I soon found out that it’s also another one of those
“stolen,” er, “borrowed” receipts that was originally published
elsewhere. In fact, I’ve discovered several “borroweds” in The
Cook Not Mad
. I have yet to determine, however, whether
the entire book consists of “stolen” goods. Maybe some day
I’ll take the time to compare the two.

In any event, other than a few minor differences (the numeral 5,
as opposed to the spelled-out word “five,” and such), it’s the exact
same receipt as that in Amelia Simmons’ American Cookery (1796).
And yes, it’s also what was used a week or so ago during the day
of open fire cooking at the Van Cortlandt House Museum:

____________________

Carrot Pudding.
A coffee cup full of boiled and strained
carrots, 5 eggs, 2 ounces sugar and
butter each, cinnamon and rose water
to your taste, baked in a deep dish
without paste.

____________________

Read Full Post »

___________________________________

Here’s the receipt (recipe) I used to make my mushroom ketchup/catchup.
It’s from The Art of Cookery, Made Plain and Easy, by Hannah Glasse (1747):

To make Ketchup.
Take the large Flaps of Mushrooms, pick nothing
but the Straws and Dirt from it, then lay them
in a broad earthern Pan, strow a good deal of
Salt over them, let them lie till next Morning;
then with your Hand brake them, put them
into a Stew-pan, and let them boil a Minute
or two, then strain them thro’ a coarse Cloth;
and wring it hard. To take out all the Juice,
let it stand to settle, then pour it off clear,
and run it thro’ a thick Flannel Bag, (some
filter it thro’ brown Paper, but that is a very
tedious Way) then boil it, to a Quart of the
Liquor put a quarter of an Ounce of whole
Ginger, and half a quarter of an Ounce of
whole Pepper, boil it briskly a quarter
of an Hour, then strain it, and when it
is cold, put it into Pint Bottles; in each
Bottle put four or five Blades of Mace,
and six Cloves, cork it tight, and it will
keep two Years. This gives the best
Flavour of the Mushrooms to any Sauce,
if you put to a Pint of this Ketchup a Pint
of Mum, it will taste like foreign Ketchup.

___________________________________

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As happens quite frequently, the other day I was searching
for one thing and found something else. I came upon this
delightful series of videos that delve into British foodways
at the time of King Richard II. Yep, I’ve gone off my usual
beaten path, again, and gotten sidetracked to yet another
earlier time period. A time even further back than Hampton
Court Palace’s King Henry VIII
.

Join famed chef, and one-time half of the “Two Fat Ladies”
duo, Clarissa Dickson Wright, as she embarks on a journey
filled with researching, preparing, and cooking dishes
of the late 14th century.

BTW, I’ll post each installment separately (there are three total),
but feel free to watch them all at once. I’ve already watched
the entire series numerous times, and you can do the same.
You won’t regret it!

_________________________

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