Food History

This is an unexpected entry from the Grocers’ Encyclopedia. Kangaroo tails! In fact, canned ‘roo tails, in the early twentieth century in the US. This reminds me of something: I’ll post it when I remember what it is. I promise. In the meantime, dream of kangaroos.

“KANGAROO TAILS. The flesh of the various members of the Kangaroo family–the big grey Kangaroo, the Wallaby, etc.–is an important food item among the natives of Australia, and hunting the larger animals is a favorite sport of white residents. Kangaroo meat proper seldom reaches the United States, but there is a limited importation of canned Kangaroo Tails. When preparing for the table, first warm the can, then draw off the jelly and gravy and make it into a hot sauce with port wine and seasoning, strain, add the pieces of tail and serve with croutons of fried bread around.”

To balance that, here’s an Aussie mention of the delicacy that is kangaroo tail. This is from Steele Rudd’s On Our Selection, which was published in 1899, but has never really gone out of fashion, keeping the popularity of ‘roo tail at a generally low level in Australia.

“Dad stood with his back to the fire while Mother was putting a stitch in his trousers. “There’s nothing for it but to watch them at night,” he was saying, when old Anderson appeared and asked “if I could have those few pounds.” Dad asked Mother if she had any money in the house? Of course she hadn’t. Then he told Anderson he would let him have it when he got the deeds. Anderson left, and Dad sat on the edge of the sofa and seemed to be counting the grains on a corn-cob that he lifted from the floor, while Mother sat looking at a kangaroo-tail on the table and didn’t notice the cat drag it off. At last Dad said, “Ah, well!–it won’t be long now, Ellen, before we have the deeds!”"

In 1980 or 1981, I went on a student camp. The idea was to turn all of us into writers or artists or painters or critics. John Bluthal was one of the guests. He told us about the time he was in a radio version of On Our Selection. He hadn’t read the script in advance.

The character was slow of mind and slow of voice. Every word emerged from his mouth with a struggle. “Daaaaad” he drawled, “I think you should know.” Bluthal is a master of voices and he spun this out to its fullest possible extent. Then he turned the page, “The shed’s on fire!”

I think we need more Steele Rudd to finish with:

“The wedding was on a Wednesday, and at three o’clock in the afternoon. Most of the people came before dinner; the Hamiltons arrived just after breakfast. Talk of drays!–the little paddock couldn’t hold them.

Jim Mullins was the only one who came in to dinner; the others mostly sat on their heels in a row and waited in the shade of the wire-fence. The parson was the last to come, and as he passed in he knocked his head against the kangaroo-leg hanging under the verandah. Dad saw it swinging, and said angrily to Joe: “Didn’t I tell you to take that down this morning?”

Joe unhooked it and said: “But if I hang it anywhere else the dog’ll get it.”

Dad tried to laugh at Joe, and said, loudly, “And what else is it for?” Then he bustled Joe off before he could answer him again.

Joe didn’t understand.

Then Dad said (putting the leg in a bag): “Do you want everyone to know we eat it, —- you?”

Joe understood.”

What I love about the Hannah Woolley extract I gave you the other day is what it says about women. Firstly, it says that women carved at table. That it was a permissible activity for gentlewomen. That part of the carving entailed knowing what one was carving and being able to describe the activity correctly. It also says that Hannah Woolley felt that not every gentlewoman had the knowledge to present themselves well in this endeavour.

It’s exactly like Francatelli helping the poor. Woolley was extending a courteously educational hand to the ill-educated gentlewoman. With Francatelli, we knew that there was a great loss in food culture in London in the nineteenth century. Can we say the same thing about the middle and lower gentry in the second half of the seventeenth century?

Woolley isn’t talking about cooks in this chapter. She’s talking about high level food knowledge specific to a particular role in society. Traditionally, in a perfect world, a gentlewoman would be taught this knowledge by her mother. That’s the theory, anyway.

What happened to make Woolley want to list common small birds and how to describe their carving (’thigh that Woodcock,’ ‘display that crane, ‘ ‘dismember that hern’)? Is it a loss in transmission of that important cultural facet? Or is it something different?

What I think is that it was multiple factors. One was the rise of the printed cookbook, which a story unto itself.

The second is the return of the monarchy after several years of Cromwell. Whether that period of time was enough to break cultural patterns is something I can’t say. It’s really not a period I know that well. The fact that people felt there was a break (and they do, even today) means that maybe there was an effort to bring back everything that was lot. Bring back maypoles, morris dancing, and proper instructions on carving for gentlewomen.

The third major possibility is the rise of many members of the merchant and trading classes into the gentry. Women of good business families could marry up, and their vast knowledge of other issues would not stand them in good stead at the dinner tables of their husband’s friends.

This is another set of thoughts that I’m playing with because I don’t have time to research them. They’re worth thinking about. There are so many reasons that people can give for writing books that purport to instruct.

On a final and entirely irrelevant note, I love knowing (from Woolley) that one lists a swan by slitting her. It sounds so much more obscure that it really is!

I’m having a very strange weekend. In honour of its surreal quality, I’m giving you more from Hannah Woolley. She was so down to earth that if I post an extract from her book tonight and comment on it tomorrow it might well bring me back down to Earth. Maybe. If it doesn’t, at least you get something good to read.

The Gentlewoman’s Companion: or, A Guide to the Female Sex. Terms for Carving all Sorts of Meat at Table.

In cutting up all manner of small Birds, it is proper to say, Thigh them; as thigh that Woodcock, thigh that Pidgeon; but as to others say, Mince that Plover, Wing that Quail, and Wing that Partridg, Allay that Pheasant, Untach that Curlew, Unjoint that Bittern, Disfigure that Peacock, Display that Crane, Dismember that Hern, Unbrace that Mallard, Frust that Chicken, Spoil that Hen, Saue that Caon, Lift that Swan, Rear that Goose, Tire that Egg. As to the flesh of Beasts, place that Coney, Break that Deer, and Leach that Brawn.

For Fish; Chine that Salmon, String that Lamprey, Splat that Pike, Sauce that Plaice, and Sauce that Tench, Splay that Bream, Side that Haddock, Tusk that Barbel, Culpon that Trout, Transon that Eel, Tranch that Sturgeon, Tame that Crab, Barb that Lobster.

If you will List a Swan, slit her right down in the middle of the Breast, and so clean through the back, from the neck to the rump, and so divide her equally in the middle without tearing the flesh from either part; having laid it in the Dish with the slit-sides downwards, let your sawce be Chaldron a-part in Sawcers.

You must Rear or Break a Goose roasted, by taking off the Legs very fair; then cut off the Bellypiece round close to the lower end of the Breast; lace her down with your knife clean through the Breast on each side, a thumbs breadth from the Breast-bone; then take off the wings on each side, with the flesh which you first laced, raising it up clear from the bone, then cut up the merry-thought, and having cut up anotehr piece of flesh which you formerly laced, then turn your Carcase, and cut it asunder the Back-bone, above the Loyn-bones; then take the rump-end of the Back-bone, and lay it at the fore-end of the merry-thought, with the skinny side upward; then lay your Pinions on each side contrary, set your Legs on each side contrary behind them, that the bone-end of the Legs may stand up cross in the middle of the Dish, and the wing-Pinions on the outside of them; put under the wing- Pinions on each side the long slices of flesh which you did cut from the Breast-bone, and let the ends meet under the Leg-bones.

If you would cut up a Turky or Bustard, raise up the leg very fair, then open the Joint with the point of your sharp Knife, yet take not off the Leg; then lace down the Breast on both sides, and open the Breast-pinion, but take it not off; then raise up the Merry-thought betwixt the Breast-bone and the top of the Merry-thought, lace down the flesh on both sides of the Breast-bone, and raise up the flesh called the Brawn, turn it outwards on both sides, but break it not nor cut it off; then cut off the Wing-pinion at the Joint next the Body, and stick on each side the Pinion in the place where you turned out the Brawn, but cut off the sharp end of the Pinion, take the middle piece and that will just fit the place. You may cut up a Capon or Pheasant the same way; but be sure you cut not off the Pinion of your Capon, but in the place where you put the Pinion of the Tturky, place there your divided Gizard on each side half.

In the dismembring of an Hern, you must take off both the Legs, and lace it down the Breast; then raise up the flesh, and take it clean off, with the Pinion; then stick the head in the Breast, set the Pinion on the contrary side of the Carcase, and the Leg on the other side, so that the bones ends may meet cross over the Carcase, and the other Wing cross over upon the top of the Carcase.

If you will Unbrace a Mallard, raise up the Pinion and the Leg, but take them not off; raise the Merry-thought from the Breast, and lace it down sloppingly, on each side the Breast with your Knife.
Turn the Back downwards, if you unlace a Coney, and cut the Belly-slaps clean off from the Kidneys; then put in the point of your Knife between the Kidneys, and loosen the flesh from each side the bone; then turn up the back of the Rabbat, and cut it cross between the Wings, and lace it down close by the bone on each side; then open the flesh from the bone, against the Kidney, and pull the Leg open softly with your hand, but pluck it not off; then thrust in your Knife betwixt the Ribs and the Kidney, slit it out, then lay the Legs close together.

In the allayin of a Pheasant, and winging a Partridg, you must raise their Wings and Legs as if they were Hens.

If you mince your Partridg, sauce him with Wine, powder of Giner and Salt, and so set him on a Chasing-dish of Coals to keep Warm. Use a Quail after the same manner.

Display a Crane thus: Unfold his Legs, and cut off his Wings by the Joints; then take up his Wings and Legs, and sauce them with powder of Giner, Mustard, Vinegar and Salt: Dismember a Hern in the same manner, and sauce him accordingly; so likewise unjoint a Bitten, but use no sauce but salt.

So, I’m on my way to being better. What would have someone made me in England in the nineteenth century, to help restore me to my normal self? Why restoratives, of course.

These recipes are from The Jewish Manual (1846, London) again.

HARTSHORN JELLY

Boil half a pound of hartshorn shavings in two quarts of water over a gentle fire until it becomes thick enough to hang about a spoon, then strain it into a clean saucepan and add half a pint of sherry wine, and a quarter of a pound of white sugar, clear it by stirring in the whites of a couple of eggs, whisked to a froth; boil it for about four or five minutes, add the juice of three lemons, and stir all together, when it is well curdled, strain it and pour into the mould, if the color is required to be deeper than the wine will make it, a little saffron may be boiled in it.

BARLEY JELLY

Boil in an iron saucepan, one tea-cup full of pearl barley, with one quart of cold water, pour off the water when it boils, and add another quart, let it simmer very gently for three hours over or near a slow fire, stirring it frequently with a wooden spoon, strain it, and sweeten with white sugar, add the juice of a lemon, a little white
wine, and a quarter of an ounce of isinglass dissolved in a little water, and pour it into a mould. This is a very nourishing jelly.

CAUDLE

Make a fine smooth gruel of grits, with a few spices boiled in it, strain it carefully and warm as required, adding white wine and a little brandy, nutmeg, lemon peel, and sugar, according to taste, some persons put the yolk of an egg.

RICE CAUDLE

Boil half a pint of milk, add a spoonful of ground rice mixed with a little milk till quite smooth, stir it into the boiling milk, let it simmer till it thickens, carefully straining it, and sweeten with white sugar.

BARLEY MILK

Boil half a pound of pearl barley in one quart of new milk, taking care to parboil it first in water, which must be poured off, sweeten with white sugar. This is better made with pearl barley than the prepared barley.

RESTORATIVE MILK

Boil a quarter of an ounce of isinglass in a pint of new milk till reduced to half, and sweeten with sugar candy.

MILK PORRIDGE

Make a fine gruel with new milk without adding any water, strain it when sufficiently thick, and sweeten with white sugar. This is extremely nutritive and fattening.

WINE WHEY

Set on the fire in a saucepan a pint of milk, when it boils, pour in as much white wine as will turn it into curds, boil it up, let the curds settle, strain off, and add a little boiling water, and sweeten to taste.

TAMARIND WHEY

Boil three ounces of tamarinds in two pints of milk, strain off the curds, and let it cool. This is a very refreshing drink.

PLAIN WHEY

Put into boiling milk as much lemon juice or vinegar as will turn it, and make the milk clear, strain, add hot water, and sweeten.

ORGEAT

Beat three ounces of almonds with a table-spoonful of orange-flour water, and one bitter almond; then pour one pint of new milk, and one pint of water to the paste, and sweeten with sifted white sugar; half an ounce of gum-arabic is a good addition for those who have a tender
chest.

IRISH MOSS

Boil half an ounce of carrageen or Irish moss, in a pint and a half of water or milk till it is reduced to a pint; it is a most excellent drink for delicate persons or weakly children.

A third post? This is because Francatelli is so full of good stuff. These are the foods we read about in nineteenth century novels, where Oliver Twist in the poorhouse asks for more, or where the dying days of consumption bring forth the need for special food. They weren’t romantic originally. The romance comes from the fact that we are so far removed from it.

Some of these recipes are similar to some of The Jewish Manual. I’ll give you a few of those tomorrow, though not quite the equivalent sections. On Sunday I’ll take a break and try to get well, so we can move on to other types of posts next week. Unless you like these posts, of course. I can do at least another week looking at other cookbooks and other places and times if the feeding of the sick fascinates.

This section is less about food and more about cures, but cures that are still very much a part of foodways.

MEDICINAL, HERBACEOUS, AND OTHER DRINKS FOR INVALIDS, ETC.

No. 204. BRAN TEA: A REMEDY FOR COLDS, ETC.
Boil a large handful of bran in a quart of water for ten minutes, then strain off the water into a jug, sweeten it with one ounce of gum Arabic and a good spoonful of honey; stir all well together, and give this kind of drink in all cases of affections of the chest, such as colds, catarrhs, consumption, etc., and also for the measles.

No. 205. ORANGEADE, OR ORANGE DRINK.
Peel off the rind of one orange very thinly without any of the white pith, and put the rind into a jug, pare off all the white pith from three oranges so as to lay the pulp of the fruit quite bare, cut them in slices, take out all the seeds, or, as they are more generally termed, the pips, as their bitterness would render the drink unpalatable; add one ounce of sugar, or honey, pour a quart of boiling water to these, cover up the jug, and allow the orangeade to stand and steep until quite cold; it may then be given to the patient. This is a cooling beverage, and may be safely given in cases of fever.

No. 206. HOW TO MAKE LEMONADE.
Proceed in all particulars as directed for making orangeade, using, for the purpose, lemons instead of oranges.

No. 207. APPLE-WATER DRINK.
Slice up thinly three or four apples without peeling them, and boil them in a very clean saucepan with a quart of water and a little sugar until the slices of apples are become soft; the apple water must then be strained through a piece of clean muslin, or rag, into a jug. This pleasant beverage should be drunk when cold; it is considered beneficial in aiding to allay scorbutic eruptions.

No. 208. HOW TO MAKE A SOOTHING DRINK FOR COUGHS.
Take of marsh-mallow roots and of liquorice roots each one ounce; of linseed, half an ounce; shave the roots very thinly; put them and the linseed into a clean earthen pot with one quart of hot water, cover with the lid, and set the whole on the hob of the fire to simmer for half an hour or more; then strain the drink into a clean jug, sweeten with honey, and when it has become quite cold, let it be given in small quantities several times in the course of the day. This mucilaginous beverage is most beneficial in relieving persons who are suffering from cold on the chest, and also those who are afflicted with gravel, etc.

No. 209. LINSEED TEA.
Put a table-spoonful of linseed into a clean earthen pot or pipkin with a quart of water, and a little orange or lemon rind; boil this gently for about ten minutes, and then strain it through muslin into a jug; sweeten with honey or sugar, add the juice of a lemon, stir all together, and give this beverage to allay irritation of the chest and lungs–in the latter case, the lemon juice had better be omitted. Linseed tea in its purest form is an excellent accessory in aiding to relieve such as are afflicted with gout, gravel, etc.

No. 210. CAMOMILE TEA.
Put about thirty flowers into a jug, pour a pint of boiling water upon them, cover up the tea, and when it has stood about ten minutes, pour it off from the flowers into another jug; sweeten with sugar or honey; drink a tea-cupful of it fasting in the morning to strengthen the digestive organs, and restore the liver to healthier action. A tea-cupful of camomile tea, in which is stirred a large dessert-spoonful of moist sugar, and a little grated ginger, is an excellent thing to administer to aged people a couple of hours before their dinner.

No. 211. BALM AND BURRAGE TEA.
These, as well as all other medicinal herbs, may easily be cultivated in a corner of your garden, when you are so fortunate as to live in a cottage of your own in the country; they are also to be obtained from all herbalists in large towns. Take of balm and burrage a small handful each, put this into a jug, pour in upon the herbs a quart of boiling water, allow the tea to stand for ten minutes, and then strain it off into another jug, and let it become cold. This cooling drink is recommended as a beverage for persons whose system has become heated from any cause.

No. 212. SAGE OR MARYGOLD TEA.
Put a dozen sage leaves into a tea-pot, pour boiling water upon them, and, after allowing the tea to stand for five or ten minutes, it may be drunk with sugar and milk, in the same way and instead of the cheaper kinds of teas, which are sold for foreign teas, but which are too often composed of some kind of leaf more or less resembling the real plant, without any of its genuine fragrance, and are, from their spurious and almost poisonous nature, calculated to produce evil to all who consume them, besides the drawback of their being expensive articles.
Teas made from sage leaves, dried mint, marygolds, and more particularly the leaf of the black currant tree, form a very pleasant as well as wholesome kind of beverage; and, if used in equal proportions, would be found to answer very well as a most satisfactory substitute for bad and expensive tea.

No. 213. HOW TO STEW RED CABBAGES.
The use of the red cabbage in this country is confined to its being pickled almost raw, and eaten in that detestable and injurious state, whereby its anti-scorbutic powers are annulled.
The red cabbage, when merely boiled with bacon, or with a little butter and salt, is both nutritious and beneficial in a medicinal point of view, inasmuch as that it possesses great virtue in all scorbutic and dartrous affections. On the Continent it is customary to administer it in such cases in the form of a syrup, and also in a gelatinized state. The red cabbage, stewed in the following manner, will be found a very tasty dish:–Slice up the red cabbage rather thin, wash it well, drain it, and then put it into a saucepan with a little dripping or butter, a gill of vinegar, pepper and salt; put the lid on, and set the cabbage to stew slowly on the hob, stirring it occasionally from the bottom to prevent it from burning; about an hour’s gentle stewing will suffice to cook it thoroughly. All kinds of cabbage or kail are anti-scorbutic agents.

No. 214. HOW TO MAKE TOAST WATER.
Toast a piece of bread thoroughly browned to its centre without being burnt, put it into a jug, pour boiling water upon it, cover over and allow it to stand and steep until it has cooled; it will then be fit to drink.

No. 215. HOW TO MAKE BARLEY WATER.
Boil one ounce of barley in a quart of water for twenty minutes; strain through muslin into a jug containing a bit of orange or lemon peel.

No. 216. HOW TO MAKE RICE WATER.
To six ounces of rice add two quarts of water, and two ounces of Valentia raisins; boil these very gently for about half an hour, or rather more; strain off the water into a jug, add about two table-spoonfuls of brandy. Rice water, prepared as above, is recommended in cases of dysentery and diarrhoea.

No. 217. HOW TO MAKE TREACLE POSSET.
Sweeten a pint of milk with four table-spoonfuls of treacle, boil this for ten minutes; strain it through a rag; drink it while hot, and go to bed well covered with blankets; and your cold will be all the less and you the better for it.

No. 218. HOW TO MAKE WHITE WINE WHEY.
Put a pint of milk into a very clean saucepan or skillet, to boil on the fire; then add half a gill of any kind of white wine; allow the milk to boil up, then pour it into a basin, and allow it to stand in a cool place, that the curd may fall to the bottom of the basin; then pour off the whey–which is excellent as an agent to remove a severe cough or cold.

No. 219. HOW TO MAKE A CORDIAL FOR COLDS.
First, prepare a quart of the juice of black currants, by bruising and boiling them for twenty minutes, and then straining off the juice with great pressure through a sieve into a basin. Next, boil four ounces of linseed in a quart of water until reduced to one-third of its original quantity, taking care that it does not boil fast, and, when done, strain the liquid into a very clean saucepan; add the currant juice, two pounds of moist sugar, and half an ounce of citric acid, or one pint of lemon juice; boil all together until reduced to a thick syrup–that is, when it begins to run rather thick from the spoon without resembling treacle; as soon as the syrup has reached this stage, remove it from the fire, and pour it into a jug to become quite cold. This syrup will keep good for any length of time, if bottled and corked down tight, and kept in a cool place. A tea-spoonful taken occasionally will soon relieve the most troublesome cough.
This cordial may also be prepared in winter, using for the purpose black currant jam, or preserved black currant juice, instead of the juice of fresh-gathered currants.

No. 220. HOW TO MAKE A STRINGENT GARGLE.
Put the following ingredients into a very clean earthen pipkin:–Twenty sage leaves, a handful of red rose leaves, and a pint of water; boil these for twenty minutes, then add a gill of vinegar, and two table-spoonfuls of honey; boil again for ten minutes, and strain the gargle through a muslin rag, to be used when cold.

No. 221. A SIMPLE REMEDY AGAINST WIND ON THE STOMACH.
A few drops (say four) of essence of peppermint on a lump of sugar.

No. 222. A CURE FOR A HARD DRY COUGH.
Take of each one table-spoonful–spermaceti grated, honey, and peppermint water; mix all together with the yolks of two eggs in a gallipot. A tea-spoonful to be taken on the tongue, and allowed to be swallowed slowly as it dissolves.

No. 223. A COOLING DRINK.
To half an ounce of cream of tartar, add one ounce of loaf sugar, and a bit of orange or lemon peel; put these into a jug, pour upon them a quart of boiling water; stir all together, and allow the beverage to become cold.

No. 224. HOP TEA.
Pour a quart of boiling water upon half an ounce of hops, cover this over, and allow the infusion to stand for fifteen minutes; the tea must then be strained of into another jug. A small tea-cupful may be drunk fasting in the morning, which will create an appetite, and also strengthen the digestive organs.

No. 225. LIME-FLOWER TEA.
To half an ounce of lime-flowers, placed in a tea-pot or jug, pour a pint of boiling water, and when the infusion has stood for ten minutes, sweeten with honey or sugar, and drink the tea hot, to assuage the pains in the stomach and chest, arising from indigestion. This beverage may also be successfully administered in attacks of hysteria.

No. 226. HYSSOP TEA: A REMEDY FOR WORMS.
To a quarter of an ounce of dried hyssop flowers, pour one pint of boiling water; allow the tea to infuse for ten minutes, pour it off, sweeten with honey, and take a wine-glassful three times in the course of the day; this will prove an effectual cure when children are troubled with worms.

No. 227. ICELAND-MOSS JELLY.
Boil four ounces of Iceland moss in one quart of water very slowly for one hour, then add the juice of two lemons and a bit of rind, four ounces of sugar, and a gill of sherry; boil up, and remove the scum from the surface; strain the jelly through a muslin bag into a basin, and set it aside to become cold; in which state it may be eaten, but it is far more efficacious in its beneficial results when taken warm. The use of Iceland moss jelly is strongly recommended in cases of consumption, and in the treatment of severe colds, catarrhs, and all phlegmatic diseases of the chest.

No. 228. ANTISPASMODIC TEA.
Infuse two-pennyworth of hay saffron (sold at all chemists’) in a gill of boiling water in a tea-cup for ten minutes; add a dessert-spoonful of brandy, and sugar to sweeten, and drink the tea hot. This powerful yet harmless remedy will quickly relieve you from spasmodic pains occasioned by indigestion.

No. 229. DANDELION TEA.
Infuse one ounce of dandelion in a jug with a pint of boiling water for fifteen minutes; sweeten with brown sugar or honey, and drink several tea-cupfuls during the day. The use of this tea is recommended as a safe remedy in all bilious affections; it is also an excellent beverage for persons afflicted with dropsy.

No. 230. REFRESHING DRINK FOR SORE THROAT ATTENDED WITH FEVER.
Boil two ounces of barberries with half an ounce of violets in a quart of water for ten minutes; sweeten with honey, strain off into a jug, and drink several glasses during the day.

No. 231. A CURE FOR SPRAINS.
Bruise thoroughly a handful of sage-leaves, and boil them in a gill of vinegar for ten minutes, or until reduced to half the original quantity; apply this in a folded rag to the part affected, and tie it on securely with a bandage.

No. 232. A CURE FOR CHILBLAINS.
The pulp of a baked turnip beat up in a tea-cup with a table-spoonful of salad oil, ditto of mustard, and ditto of scraped horse-radish; apply this mixture to the chilblains, and tie it on with a piece of rag.

No. 233. A CURE FOR BURNS OR SCALDS.
Thoroughly bruise a raw onion and a potato into a pulp, by scraping or beating them with a rolling-pin; mix this pulp with a good table-spoonful of salad oil, and apply it to the naked burn or scald; secure it on the part with a linen bandage.

No. 234. A CURE FOR COLD IN THE HEAD.
Thirty drops of camphorated sal volatile in a small wine-glassful of hot water, taken several times in the course of the day.

No. 235. A CURE FOR THE STING OF WASPS OR BEES.
Bruise the leaf of the poppy, and apply it to the part affected.

No. 236. A CURE FOR TOOTHACHE.
Roll a small bit of cotton wadding into a ball the size of a pea, dip this in a very few drops of camphorated chloroform, and with it fill the hollow part of the decayed tooth.

No. 237. HOW TO MAKE COFFEE.
Mix one ounce of ground coffee in a clean pot with a pint of cold water, stir this on the fire till it boils, then throw in a very little more cold water, and after allowing the coffee to boil up twice more, set it aside to settle, and become clear and bright. The dregs saved from twice making, added to half the quantity of fresh coffee, will do for the children. It is best to make your coffee over-night, as it has then plenty of time to settle. If, as I recommend, you grind your coffee at home, you will find Nye’s machines very good.

COOKERY AND DIET FOR THE SICK ROOM.

No. 175. BEEF TEA
Chop up a pound of lean beef, and put it on to boil in a saucepan with a quart of water, stirring it on the fire occasionally while it boils rather fast, for at least half an hour; at the end of this time the beef tea will have become reduced to a pint; season with salt to taste, strain it through a clean bit of muslin or rag, and give a tea-cupful of it with dry toast to the patient.

No. 176. MUTTON BROTH.
Chop a pound of scrag end of neck of mutton into small pieces, and put it into a saucepan, with two ounces of barley, and rather better than a quart of water; set the broth to boil gently on the fire, skim it well, season with a little salt, thyme, parsley, and a couple of turnips; the whole to continue gently boiling on the side of the hob for an hour and a-half; at the end of this time serve some of the broth strained through a clean rag into a basin; or, if the patient is allowed it, serve the broth with some of the barley and pieces of the meat in it.

No. 177. CHICKEN BROTH.
Draw, singe, and cut a chicken into four quarters; wash these, put them into a clean saucepan with a quart of water, and set the broth to boil on the fire; skim it well, season with two ounces of sago, a small sprig of thyme and parsley, and a little salt. Allow the broth to boil very gently for an hour, and then serve some of it with the sago in a cup, and, if allowed, give the patient the chicken separately.

No. 178. A CHEAPER KIND OF CHICKEN BROTH.
In large towns it is easy to purchase sixpenny-worth of fowls’ necks, gizzards, and feet, which, prepared as indicated in the foregoing Number, make excellent broth at a fourth part of the cost occasioned by using a fowl for the same purpose.

No. 179. VEAL AND RICE BROTH.
Cut up one pound and a-half of knuckle of veal, and put it on to boil in a saucepan with a quart of water, four ounces of rice, a small sprig of thyme, and a little parsley; season with a few peppercorns and a little salt; boil very gently for two hours.

No. 180. MEAT PANADA FOR INVALIDS AND INFANTS.
First, roast whatever kind of meat is intended to be made into panada, and, while it is yet hot, chop up all the lean thereof as fine as possible, and put this with all the gravy that has run from the meat on the plate into a small saucepan with an equal quantity of crumb of bread previously soaked in hot water; season with a little salt (and, if allowed, pepper), stir all together on the fire for ten minutes, and give it in small quantities at a time. This kind of meat panada is well adapted as a nutritious and easily-digested kind of food for old people who have lost the power of mastication, and also for very young children.

No. 181. HOW TO PREPARE SAGO FOR INVALIDS.
Put a large table-spoonful of sago into a small saucepan with half a pint of hot water, four lumps of sugar, and, if possible, a small glass of port wine; stir the whole on the fire for a quarter of an hour, and serve it in a tea-cup.

No. 182. HOW TO PREPARE TAPIOCA.
This may be prepared in the same manner as sago; It may also be boiled in beef tea, mutton broth, or chicken broth, and should be stirred while boiling.
Arrow-root is to be prepared exactly after the directions given for the preparation of sago and tapioca.

No. 183. HOW TO MAKE GRUEL.
Mix a table-spoonful of Robinson’s prepared groats or grits with a tea-cupful of cold water, pour this into a saucepan containing a pint of hot water, and stir it on the fire while it boils for ten minutes; strain the gruel through a sieve or colander into a basin, sweeten to taste, add a spoonful of any kind of spirits, or else season the gruel with salt and a bit of butter.

No. 184. BROWN AND POLSON GRUEL.
Brown and Polson’s excellent preparation of Indian corn is to be purchased of all grocers throughout the kingdom. Mix a dessert-spoonful of the prepared Indian corn with a wine-glassful of cold water, and pour this into a small saucepan containing half a pint of hot water; stir on the fire for ten minutes, sweeten with moist sugar, flavour with nutmeg or a spoonful of spirits.

No. 185. GRUEL MADE WITH OATMEAL.
In the absence of groats, oatmeal furnishes the means of making excellent gruel. Mix two table-spoonfuls of oatmeal with a gill of cold water; pour this into a saucepan containing a pint of hot water, stir the gruel on the fire while it boils very gently for about a quarter of an hour, then sweeten with moist sugar, or, if preferred, the gruel may be eaten with a little salt and a bit of butter.

No. 186. HOW TO MAKE CAUDLE.
Mix four ounces of prepared groats or oatmeal with half a pint of cold ale in a basin, pour this into a saucepan containing a quart of boiling ale, or beer, add a few whole allspice, and a little cinnamon, stir the caudle on the fire for about half an hour, and then strain it into a basin or jug; add a glass of any kind of spirits, and sugar to taste.

No. 187. RICE GRUEL, A REMEDY FOR RELAXED BOWELS.
Boil very gently eight ounces of rice in a quart of water for about an hour in a saucepan covered with its lid, and placed on the side of the hob; the rice must be so thoroughly done as to present the appearance of the grains being entirely dissolved; a bit of orange-peel or cinnamon should be boiled with the rice, and when quite soft, the gruel is to be sweetened with loaf sugar, and a table-spoonful of brandy added.

No. 188. HOW TO PREPARE ARROW-ROOT.
Mix a piled-up dessert-spoonful of arrow-root with half a gill of cold water, and pour this into a small saucepan containing nearly half a pint of boiling water, four lumps of sugar, and a glass of wine; stir the arrow-root while it is boiling on the fire for a few minutes, and then give it to the patient.
Observe that it is essential to perfection in the preparation of arrow-root, and, indeed, of all farinaceous kinds of food, that the whole of the ingredients used in the preparation should be boiled together.

No. 189. HOW TO MAKE GRUEL WITH PEARL BARLEY.
Put four ounces of pearl barley in a saucepan with two quarts of cold water and a small stick of cinnamon, and set the whole to boil very gently by the side of the fire (partly covered with the lid) for two hours; then add the sugar and the wine, boil all together a few minutes longer, and then strain the gruel through a colander into a jug, to be kept in a cool place until required for use; when it can be warmed up in small quantities.
As this kind of gruel is a powerful cordial, it is to be borne in mind that it should never be administered unless ordered by a medical man.

No. 190. COW-HEEL BROTH.
Put a cow-heel into a saucepan with three quarts of water, and set it to boil on the fire; skim it well, season with a few peppercorns, a sprig of thyme and parsley, and a dessert-spoonful of salt; boil gently for two hours; at the end of this time the broth will be reduced to half its original quantity; skim off all the grease, and serve the broth with the glutinous part of the heel in it. This kind of broth is both strengthening and healing to the stomach.

No. 191. HOW TO MAKE CALF’S-FEET JELLY.
Boil two calf’s feet in two quarts of water very gently for at least two hours; at the end of this time the liquid will be boiled down to one half of its original quantity; it is then to be strained into a pan, and left to cool till the next day. Scrape and wash off all grease, dab a clean cloth all over the surface to absorb any remaining grease, put the calf’s-foot stock or broth into a very clean saucepan, add three ounces of lump sugar, a bit of lemon-peel, the juice of a lemon, a little bruised cinnamon, and half a pint of white wine; boil all together for ten minutes, skim, strain through a doubled piece of muslin into a basin; set the jelly in a very cold place to cool and become firm.

No. 192. HOW TO MAKE ICELAND-MOSS JELLY.
Iceland moss is to be had of all chemists. Put four ounces of Iceland moss to boil in one quart of water, stirring it the whole time it is on the fire; and when it has boiled about three-quarters of an hour, add two ounces of lump sugar and a glass of white wine; strain the jelly through a piece of muslin into a basin, and when it is set firm and cold, let it be given to the patient. This kind of jelly is most beneficial in cases of severe colds, catarrhs, and all pulmonary diseases of the lungs and chest.

No. 193. HOW TO MAKE BLANCMANGE.
Scald, skin, wash, and thoroughly bruise one ounce of sweet almonds with a rolling-pin on a table; put this into a basin with one ounce of lump sugar, and three gills of cold water, and allow the whole to stand and steep for three hours. Next, boil one ounce of shred isinglass, or gelatine, in a gill of water, by stirring it on the fire, while boiling, for ten minutes; pour this to the milk of almonds; strain all through a muslin into a basin, and when the blancmange has become stiff and cold, let it be given to the patient in cases of fevers, or extreme delicacy.

No. 194. HOW TO MAKE SICK-DIET JELLY.
Take of sago, tapioca, eringo root, and hartshorn shavings, of each one ounce; and boil the whole in three pints of water until reduced to one pint, stirring all the time; then strain the jelly through a muslin into a basin, and set it aside to become cold. A table-spoonful of this jelly may be given at a time, mixed in broth, milk, chocolate, cocoa, or tea.
It is considered to be very strengthening.

No. 195. HOW TO PREPARE ISINGLASS JELLY.
Put one ounce and a-half of isinglass, with two ounces of lump sugar and half a pint of water, into a small stewpan, and stir the whole on the fire while it boils gently for ten minutes; then remove the jelly from the fire, add the juice of three oranges, and the thin pared rind of one orange; stir well together for five minutes, strain through a muslin into a basin, and set the jelly in a cold place to become stiff.

No. 196. HOW TO MAKE GROUND-RICE MILK.
Put a pint of milk with a bit of cinnamon to boil, mix a large table-spoonful of ground rice quite smooth with a tea-cupful of milk, pour this into the boiling milk, stirring quickly all the time in order to render it smooth; add sugar to sweeten, and stir the ground-rice milk on the fire while boiling for ten minutes. Remember, that whenever you are stirring any kind of sauce, gruel, porridge, or thick milk, etc., on the fire, it is most essential that you should bear with some weight on the edge of the bowl of the spoon to prevent whatever is being stirred from burning at the bottom of the saucepan, as such an accident would infallibly spoil the gruel, etc.

No. 197. HOW TO MAKE A SMALL BATTER-PUDDING.
Beat up in a basin an egg with a large table-spoonful of flour, and a grain of salt; add, by degrees, a tea-cupful of milk, working all together vigorously; pour this batter into a ready greased inside of a tea-cup, just large enough to hold it; sprinkle a little flour on the top, place a small square clean rag on it, and then, with the spread-out fingers of the right hand, catch up both cloth and tea-cup, holding them up in order to enable you to gather up the ends of the rag tight in your left hand, while with a piece of string held in the right hand, you tie up the pudding securely, and put it on to boil, in boiling water, for a good half-hour; at the end of this time the pudding will be done, and should be eaten immediately with sugar, and a few drops of wine, if allowed and procurable.

No. 198. HOW TO MAKE A TEA-CUP BREAD-PUDDING.
Bruise a piece of stale crumb of bread the size of an egg, in a basin, add four lumps of sugar and a very little grated nutmeg, pour half a gill of boiling milk upon these, stir all well together until the sugar is melted, then add an egg, beat up the whole thoroughly until well mixed; pour the mixture into a buttered tea-cup, tie it up in a small cloth as directed in the preceding Number, boil the pudding for twenty minutes, at least, and, as soon as done, turn it out on a plate. This, or any similar light kind of pudding, constitutes safe food for the most delicate.

No. 199. HOW TO MAKE A TAPIOCA PUDDING.
Put two table-spoonfuls of tapioca into a basin with four lumps of sugar, a grain of salt, and a lump of sugar rubbed on the rind of a lemon; pour a gill of boiling milk over these ingredients and cover them up with a saucer to steep for ten minutes, then add one egg; beat up all together, and boil the pudding in a buttered tea-cup tied up in a cloth, for nearly half an hour.

No. 200. HOW TO MAKE AN ARROW-ROOT PUDDING.
Mix a large dessert-spoonful of arrow-root with the same quantity of bruised sugar, and a tea-cupful of milk, in a small clean saucepan; stir this on the fire until it boils, and keep on stirring it, off the fire, for five minutes, until the heat has subsided; then add an egg, beat up and thoroughly mix it into the batter, and then boil the pudding as shown in the preceding Numbers.

No. 201. HOW TO MAKE A SAGO PUDDING.
Soak two table-spoonfuls of pearl sago with a tea-spoonful of hot milk, in a covered basin, for a quarter of an hour; then add a very little grated nutmeg or lemon-peel, sugar to sweeten, and an egg; beat up all together until thoroughly mixed, and then boil the pudding in a buttered basin or tea-cup, as directed in preceding cases.

No. 202. HOW TO MAKE A GROUND-RICE PUDDING.
Mix a large table-spoonful of ground rice with half a pint of milk, six lumps of sugar, and a very little nutmeg; stir this in a saucepan on the fire until it has boiled for five minutes; then mix in an egg, and boil the pudding for twenty-five minutes.

No. 203. BROWN AND POLSON TEA-CUP PUDDING FOR INFANTS.
Mix a good dessert-spoonful of Brown and Polson’s corn-flour with half a pint of milk, six lumps of sugar, a grain of salt, and a very little grated orange-peel; stir these on the fire to boil for five minutes, then add one egg, beat up until well mixed; pour this batter into a buttered tea-cup, tie it up in a small cloth, boil it for twenty-five minutes, and serve it while hot.

Something that interests me about Victorian England is the number of well-off and even famous people who wrote instructions for other people on how to run their lives. The Jewish Manual was targeted at a religious group and part of its intent was possibly to bring a bit more cultural unity as more and more Continental Jews migrated to England (also, possibly not – I don’t really know when the nineteenth century waves of Jewish migration happened or how they happened – this is something I have t look into). It was also a charitable impulse.

Francatelli’s A Plain Cookery Book for the Working Classes (my facsimile is dated1861 – after my Great-whichever-grandmother ended up in Melbourne, to keep things in temporal perspective, though it originally came out in 1852) was just as much a charitable impulse but far more precisely targeted. The cover of his book proudly proclaims “Late Maître d’Hôtel and Chief Cook to Her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria” and the man himself studied under Carême.

A top chef was targeting the lower class and telling them how to save their own lives.

He tells the working classes “To those of my readers who, from sickness or other hindrance, have not money in store, I would say, strive to lay by a little of your weekly wages to purchase these things, that your families may be well fed, and your homes made comfortable.”

His heart was in the right place, but he really didn’t understand poverty below a certain point, and poverty below a certain point was endemic in the London of his day. He recommended cheaper ingredients where he could, but his diet was still very meat-based. Meat was everyday for the comfortably-off but a pure luxury for many poor people.

Not everyone had access to stoves or even fireplaces in some poorer homes (or money for fuel or time to buy fuel), but he at least gave good basic cooking instruction for those who had the basics. I do rather suspect (another thing to learn more about!) is that, with the dramatic and extreme citification of a previously mainly rural society, lots of food ways were lost. Men and women forced off the land or persuaded off the land lost a lot of the supports and frameworks that kept the way they cook, ate and lived alive. This was the gap Francatelli was trying to fill, in reality. He wasn’t instructing intelligent people how to do common things, he was instructing deracinated people on ways they could adjust and thrive in their new society. All they had to do was to be wealthy enough to afford fuel, utensils etc. This means that the book was really for the middle and upper sectors of the working classes.

The working classes, in this time of poor working conditions and high exploitation, did not have much access to help when they were sick. Being sick meant no pay, and if it continued, no job. There was not always someone who could take the time to cook you nourishing drinks. And some of his ingredients were rather sumptuous, especially when a household is missing an income from the sick person.

Give me a few minutes and I’ll put up his recipes for invalids, so you can see for yourself. This post is much longer than I expected it to be!

Today’s recipes for sick folks are all from the “Receipts for Invalids” section of The Jewish Manual, by a Lady (who was probably Judith Cohen Montefiore).

You can find the whole book on Project Gutenberg, or you can (if you’re like me and like facsimiles) buy it in facsimile.

The recipes in here are some of the nicest I’ve seen for that period. Maybe it’s because the food is actually seasoned – I’ve seen beef tea descriptions (I might give you one tomorrow) which look entirely tasteless. What I love about the popularity of beef tea is that it shows the class of people the books are aimed at (those with enough money to buy beef) and the sheer quantity of beef consumed by the comfortably-off in the nineteenth century. The difference in diet between the rich and the poor can be measured by the size of bones, and London in the nineteenth century produced the shortest skeletons in the history of the city.

Having said that, today’s recipes don’t assume great wealth. The whole of the chicken is used, and the beef tea suggests fleshy beef, rather than specifying an expensive cut. Chuck steak would do the trick, in fact. The Jewish community had some of the greatest extremes in that London of terrific contrasts. There were a few well-off families and the vast bulk of the community was dangerously impoverished. The Jewish communities had many charitable organizations to help that dire poverty not lead to starvation, but it was all very parlous. Many of these Jews were early free immigrants to Australia – my ancestors were among them, a very few years after this book was published.

So, three 1846 recipes for Jewish invalids in London from 1846.

BEEF TEA

Cut one pound of fleshy beef in dice, or thin slices, simmer for a
short time without water, to extract the juices, then add, by degrees,
one quart of water, a little salt, a piece of lemon peel, and a
sprig of parsley, are the only necessary seasonings; if the broth is
required to be stronger put less water.

CHICKEN PANADA

Boil a chicken till rather more than half done in a quart of water, take of the skin, cut off the white parts when cold, and pound it to a paste in a mortar, with a small quantity of the liquor it was boiled in, season with salt, a little nutmeg, and the least piece of lemon peel; boil it gently, and make it with the liquor in which the fowl has been boiled of the required consistency. It should be rather thicker than cream.

CHICKEN BROTH

After the white parts have been removed for the panada, return the rest of the chicken to the saucepan, with the liquid, add one blade of mace, one slice only of onion, a little salt, and a piece of lemon peel; carefully remove every particle of fat. Vermicelli is very well adapted for this broth.

Today I have a book about Aussie foodways for you to meet. It’s called Tucker Track: the curious history of food in Australia by Warren Fahey. It’s a folkloric approach, which makes it easy reading, and it also means that it’s close to the kind of way I like to think about the past. Everything fits together in my world, and if I haven’t found out how they link together then I don’t know nearly enough about the subject.

Fahey looks at ingredients (from meat and veggies to bush tucker) but he also looks at how dinner is served, what home cooking is all about, grace and iconic foods. (I’m cheating madly here and running my eye down the table of contents.)

This is one of those books I can’t give you a quick opinion on. I would need to sit down and spend some time with it first. I do like his approach, though, and the range of subjects his book encompasses. Fahey says that the book is “about us as a community, both an Australian and international community.” He’s talking about links. Ties that bind. Food that helps establish where we fit and how we fit. Links.

I like it that, from the very beginning, he’s aware that he’s writing in time. He calls his book “a time capsule” and recognizes quite clearly that the world is changing even as he writes and that the changes from the First Fleet till now are not the only changes, ever. So many folklore people keep an underlying theme of permanence in the work – I much prefer it if the change is acknowledged and understood, and time is appreciated as an important aspect of culture. The book is worth reading just for this.

The sort of things you expect to find are there, like a quick study of the values imbued in terms such as “born with a silver spoon” and “a dog’s breakfast.” (This makes me wonder how people who are born with silver spoons in their mouths avoid becoming dig’s breakfasts, but really, that is a frivolous concern and I shall rise above it.)

He also includes enough theory for the casual reader to make sense of things, plus a nice range of topics and ingredients.

I’ll return to this book again, I think. Not soon, but one day.

This is the year of the eleciton is so many countries. Some elections are good, some are bizarre, some are tragic. Women’s suffrage, though, is always good, so I got these recipes from a US women’s suffrage cookbook. In fact, they’re from the 2nd edition of The Woman Suffrage Cook Book, by Mrs. Hattie A. Burr, 1890.

Tea Biscuits
One quart flour, one-half cup butter and lard mixed, two teaspoons baking powder, one teaspoon salt and two of sugar. Use enough sweet milk to make the usual biscuit dough; then knead just as you do yeast bread and set away for four or five hours in a cool place. Roll out and bake.
MRS. W. L. THOMPSON, Seattle.

Biscuit
Pint of flour, heaping teaspoon baking powder, work in tablespoon of cotosuet or butter. Mix with sweet milk as soft as can be handled. Roll out and bake in very hot oven.
This is an excellent recipe for shortcake if you double the amount of shortening.
MRS. HELEN J. BERRY, Bellingham.

Sour Milk Biscuit
One cup milk (sour), one-third teaspoon soda, two tablespoons melted lard, one teaspoon baking powder in the flour.
Mix with a spoon and roll out. This makes them much lighter than with soda alone and will not be yellow.
MRS. CHAS. HARRIS, Bellingham.

Beaten Biscuit
Mix one quart of flour with one iron spoon or two tablespoons of lard and one full teaspoon of salt. Make into a stiff dough with ice water. Work on a kneader or beat with a mallet until smooth and glossy. Roll, cut into shape, pierce with a fork and bake about twenty or twenty-five minutes.
MRS. LOUISA BERRY, Lexington, Ky.

Cookie, No. 1
Four cups of flour, one cup of butter, one and one-half cups sugar, four eggs, two heaping teaspoons baking powder, three tablespoons milk, lemon and nutmeg. Rub butter and flour together, add sugar, beaten eggs, milk and flavoring.

Cookies, No. 2
Two cups sugar, one full cup butter, one cup buttermilk, two eggs, one teaspoon soda, vanilla, flour to stiffen.
MRS. B. R. McCLELLAND, Olympia.

Soda Scones
Ingredients.
2 lbs. flour.
1 1/2 pints fresh milk or water.
2 dessertspoonfuls baking powder.
1/2 teaspoonful carbonate of soda.
1 teaspoonful salt.

Method: Mix together the flour, salt, baking powder and carbonate of soda. Add the milk or water gradually until sufficient to make a light dough. Handle it as little as
possible, and roll out into a large round cake. Mark it deeply into four, brush over with egg, prick with a fork, and place in a hot oven as soon as possible. Time, twenty minutes.

Cookies
One-half pound flour, one-third pound butter, one-half pound sugar, one whole egg, one yolk, grated rind of one lemon, one tablespoonful sweet cream, small cup finely cut almonds. Chop the ingredients together in chopping bowl, not mixing with the hands. When blended turn out on board and roll about one-quarter inch thick and bake.

I nearly forgot today’s post. I had an unexpected request for a short story for an anthology.

Notice how very casually I threw that statement in – it’s actually my first unexpected request of that sort and it means that at least one publisher trusts me rather a lot. Anyhow, I wrote the story and I discussed it with the publisher and it has been accepted subject to not-very-big edits, all of which I agreed were essential. All this since Friday, but most of it since about lunchtime yesterday. I’ve even done the first round of edits already. You can see why I almost forgot to post.

I still have some questions to answer from a few weeks ago. I haven’t forgotten. I think my life is running on strange timelines right now – things don’t get forgotten (much) but they do appear unexpectedly and at odd moments.

The unexpected today is a totally gorgeous cookbook. I have so many recipes with scraps of papers reminding me that I need to cook them that it’s almost impossible to open the book safely. A frenzy of notes will hit me in the face and suffocate me if I don’t open it with extreme care.

As cookbooks go, it’s not that big. Less than 200 pages, in fact. And as cookbooks go, it has a fair number of recipes, but not a vast number. It’s the quality of the recipes that count and the particular interest of their cultural background.

The book is Rivka Goldman’s Mama Nazima’s Jewish-Iraqi Cuisine. I wish it was much longer with way more detail, because what it says about that particular Jewish culture and set of foodways has left me hungry for more. My mouth waters every page. I want to go out instantly and buy a chicken and stuff it with meat (except it’s midnight and zero degrees and I am going to be strong and restrain myself). I want to make her stuffed quince, too. In fact, I can do that for my Friday night dinner – all I need to buy are pine-nuts and raisins.

Do you know the lovely thing about working so hard on one thing that I forgot another? I get to dream of Mama Nazima’s recipes all night. This is a good thing, as my story was a horror story and last night I spooked myself so entirely that I couldn’t get to sleep till 3 am.

On my way to bed I shall detour via the kitchen, I think, and tell the quinces they are going to get stuffed.

I have a thing about the South. By the South, I mean Melbourne, of course (since I’m Australian) but I also mean states like Arkansas and Alabama.

One of my recent purchases is a book by Mrs. Fisher, first published in 1881. She started life a slave in Alabama and, a bit later, moved from Mobile to San Francisco. The little mauve (lavender? purple?) volume put out by Applewood Books in 1995 takes Mrs Fisher’s cookbook from 1881, gives it an introduction by leading food historian Karen Hess and is full of surprises.

It’s called “What Mrs. Fisher knows about Old Southern Cooking” and it contains a wide range of recipes. It’s not the same sort of cooking as, for instance, the plantation style of cookery, though it has a few recipes in common. It feels to this white on-American as a bridge between several cooking styles.

This tells us a bunch of stuff about Mrs. Fisher. First and foremost, she could cook. Not just what her mother taught her, but what people wanted to eat. If you live your life in a small community or are surrounded by people just like you, then this means something quite different to what it means in Mrs. Fisher’s case. She obviously did well in San Francisco and did well by finding the bits of Southern cooking that would appeal to the West Coast palate. This shows that she was culturally sensitive as well and enjoying her own heritage.

I’ve bookmarked two recipes. One is for one of my friends, because quinces are just in season here and she loves cooking with quinces. I’ll make sure she gets to see Mrs. Fisher’s Quince Preserves.

The other recipe is for you. I’ve wanted a 19th century recipe for Chow Chow for ages, and I’m feeling supremely generous, so I’m going to share it with you.

Chow Chow

Take one cabbage, a large one, and cut up fine. Put in a large jar or keg, and sprinkle over it thickly one pint of coarse salt. Let it remain in salt twelve hours, then scald the cut-up cabbage with one gallon of boiling vinegar. Cut up two gallons of cucumbers, green or pickled, and add to it; cut in pieces the size of the end of little finger. Then chop very fine two gallons more of cucumbers or pickles and add to the above.
Seasonings: One pound of brown sugar, one tablespoonful of cayenne pepper, one tablespoonful of black pepper, two gallons of pure wine vinegar, two tablespoonfuls of tumerick, six onions, chopped fine or grated. Then put it on to cook in a large porcelain kettle, with a slow fire, for twelve hours. Stir it occasionally to keep it from burning. You can add more pepper than is here given if you like it hot.

I’ve been reading again. I can’t remember if I blogged about this particular book and I’m too lazy to check, so you get to know all about the current book that resides in my handbag.

I was following through some thoughts on the Franklin Expedition. I blogged about it ages ago, focusing on the purely shockworthy. I mentioned the possibility of the lead solder in the tin cans leading to botulism and I might have mentioned cannibalism. What I didn’t say is that expeditions are a great deal more than speculations as to the sad fate of the souls therein. And that, however much fun there is in whispering ‘cannibalism’ with a note of slight terror, finding out about the food realities of a successful polar expeditions are even more interesting. Not as capable of providing frissons, but entirely fascinating in their own right.

That’s what I’m reading right now. McClintock was the leader of one of the expeditions that found out what happened to Franklin and his men. Possibly the most successful expedition, too. It was funded mainly by Franklin’s widow, though it appears to have attracted a lot of support from elsewhere. McClintock turned a yacht into an icebreaker and did some amazing stuff.

I’m totally in love with the food history elements of his report. Pemmican, hunting parties on the ice, keeping scurvy at bay. Reports of food and where it was obtained and how it was prepared lard his report. He talks about how he took his ship westwards late in the season and what food was on board for period when the ship could not travel. There’s so much stuff I don’t know what else to tell you. Except that this little volume will be inhabiting my handbag for the next few weeks. I could read it in a day, but where would be the fun in that? I’m saving it for cold winter bus trips, so that I feel wimpish when the cold bites. Canberra, you see, is far, far warmer than the Arctic.

If there’s a lot more food later in the book, I might do another post. While you wait, let me tell you how to make pemmican.

Air-dry your beef and then shred it as finely as you can. Pound it and mix it with generous amounts (I think McClintock said 50%) of pure beef fat. Now you’re ready for an Artic winter. Or maybe you’re just ready to read Swallows and Amazons.

If you are left to your own liberty, with the rest, to carve to your self, let not your hand be in the dish first, but give way to others; and be sure to carve on that side of the dish only which is next you, not overcharging your plate, but laying thereon a little at a time. What you take, as near as you can let it be at once; it is not civil to be twice in one dish, and much worse to eat out of it piece by piece; and do not (for it favours of rudeness) reach your arms over other dishes to come at that you like better. Wipe your spoon every time you put it into the dish, otherwise you may offend some squeamish stomacks. Eat not so fast, though very hungry, as by gormandizing you are ready to choak your selves. Close your lips when you eat; talk not when you have meat in your mouth; and do not smack like a Pig, nor make any other noise which shall prove ungrateful to the company. If your pottage be so hot your mouth cannot endure it, have patience till it be of a fit coolness; for it is very unseemly to blow it in your spoon, or otherwise.

Do not venture to eat Spoon-meat so hot, that the tears stand in your eyes, or that thereby you betray your intolerable greediness, by beraying the room, besides your great discomposure for a while afterwards. Do not bit your bread, but cut or break what you are about to eat; and keep not your knife always in your hand, for that is as unseemly as a Gentlewoman who pretended to have as little a stomach as she had a mouth, and therefore would not swallow her Pease by spoonfuls, but took them one by one, and cut them in two before she would eat them.

Fill not your mouth so full, that your checks shall swell like a pair of Scotch-bag-pipes; neither cut your meat into too big pieces.

Gnaw no bones with your Teeth, nor suck them to come at the marrow: Be cautious, and not over-forward in dipping or sopping in the dish; and have a care of letting fall any thing you are about to eat, between the plate and your mouth.

It is very uncivil to criticize or find fault with any dish of meat or sauce during the repast, or more especially at another’s Table; or to ask what such a Joint or such a Fowl cost; or to trouble your self and others with perpetual discourses of Bills of Fare, that being a sure sign of a foolish Epicure.

It is very uncomely to drink so large a draught, that your breath is almost gone, and are forced to blow strongly to recover your self: nor let it go down too hastily, lest it force you to an extream cough, or bring it up again, which would be a great rudeness to nauseate the whole Table; and this throwing down your liquor as into a Funnel, would be an action fitter for a Juggler than a Gentlewoman. If you sit next a Person of Honour, it will behove you, not to receive your drink on that side; for those who are accurately bred, receive it generally on the other.

It is uncivil to rub your teeth in company, or to pick them at or after meals, with your knife; or otherwise; for it is a thing both indecent and distastful.

Thus much I have laid down for your observation in general; wherein I am defective as to particulars, let your own prudence, discretion, and curious observation supply.”

Some who esteem themselves the Virtuosi for rarity of diet and choice provision, esteem (in Fish) the head, and what is near about it, to be the best: I must acknowledg it in a Cods-head, with the various appurtenances, drest Secundum artem, sparing no cost; such a dish in Old and New Fish, street, hath made mmany a Gallant’s pocket bleed freely. As also, I approve it in a Salmon or Sturgeon, the Jowles of both being the best of the Fish; likewise in Pike or Carp, where note, the tongue of this last -named is an excellent morsel; but in other Fish you must excuse the weakness of my knowledg. In Fish that have but one long bone running down the back (as the Sole), the middle is to be carved without dispute; there is none so unacquainted with fare, to contradict it.

If Fish be in paste, it is proper enough to touch it with your knife; if otherwise, with your fork and spoon, laying it handsomly on a plate with sauce, and so present it. But should there be Olives on board, use your spoon, and not your fork, lest you become the laughter of the whole Table.

All sorts of Tarts, wet-Sweat-meats; and Cake, being cut first in the dish wherein they were served to the Table, are to be taken up at the point of your knives, laid dextrously on a plate, and so presented: and whatever you carve and present, let it be on a clean plate; but by no means on the point of your knife, or fork, not with your spoon. If any one careves to you, refuse it not, though you dislike it.

Where you see variety at a Table, ask not to be helpt to any dainty; and if you are offered the choice of several-dishes, chuse not the best; you may answer, Madam, I am indifferent, your Ladiships choice shall be mine.

Be not nice nor curious at the Table, for that is undercent; and do not mump it mince it, nor bridle the head, as if you either disliked the meat, or the company. If you have a stomach, eat not voraciously; nor too sparingly, like an old-fashion’d Gentlewoman I have heard of, who because she would seem (being invited to a Feast) to be a slender eater, fed heartily at home (before she went) on a piece of poder’d-beef and cabbage; by chance a steak thereof fell on her Russ, and not perceiving it, went so where she was invited; being observed to eat little or nothing, a Gentlewoman askt her why she did not eat; Indeed, Madam, said she, I did eat (before I came forth) a whole pestle of a Lark to my Breakfast, and that I think hath deprived me of my appetite. The witty Gentlewoman presently replaied, I am easily induced to believe you fed on that Bird, for on your Ruff I see you have brought a feather of him with you. Thus your nicety may be discovered by means you dream not of, and thereby make your self the subject of publick laughter.

On the other side, do not bawl out aloud for any thing you want; as, I would have some of that; I like not this; I hate Onions; Give me no Pepper: But whisper softly to one, that he or she may without noise supply your wants.

If you be carved with any thing (as I said before) which you do not like, conceal (as much as in your lieth) your repugnancies, and receive it however: And though your disgust many times is invincible, and it would be insufferable tyranny to require you should eat what your Stomach nauseats; yet it will shew your civility to accept it, though you let it lye on your plate, pretending to eat, till you meet with a fit opportunity of changing your plate, without any palpable discovery of your disgust.