ferval wrote:

I thought you might give us a recipe today, MM, and wondered what you might choose. And lo! It's tattie scones and 'Shetland' Herring cooked with potatoes.
Vive la vieille alliance.

I make the former if I've got left over mash and the latter I do a version of, with smoked mackerel, a splash of cream, lots of grain mustard and bay leaves.

Heresy! Left-over mash is only validly used as the basis for bubble & squeak!

Further to Madame Mérigot's recipes...

It is interesting that she was one of the first, if not actually the very first, female professional cookery writers in France. Before the French Revolution gave a degree of egalité to women, professional cooks were always men ... in contrast to those millions of non-professional women who competently turned out meals every day as they always had done. England however had a history of distinguished and published female cooks. Hannah Woolley produced her ‘Accomplisht Ladys Delight’ in 1686, and she was followed by numerous others including:
Mary Kettilby, ‘A Collection of above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick and Surgery’ (1714);
Eliza Smith, ‘The Complete Housewife' (1737);
Hannah Glasse, 'Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy' (1747);
Elizabeth Moxon, 'English Housewifery' (1749);
Elizabeth Raffald,’The Experienced Housekeeper – for the Use and Ease of Ladies Housekeepers and Cooks etc' (1769) .....

But then in the eighteenth century Britain was the most literate nation in Europe. It is estimated that by the 1750s forty per cent of all women in England could read, so that the frontspiece of Hannah Glasse’s ‘Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy’  could, with all credibility, show the mistress of the household copying out a recipe and giving it to her cook to produce. Glasse’s best-seller cost five shillings when it first appeared, which was over a month's wages for a cook, so it was far too valuable to be allowed into the kitchen itself.
 

I wonder if many of those educated women received it through a religious foundation of some sort...... gosh, another benefit from the deluded ones - as our dictator labels such folk. I never considered cookery.

Interesting info, MM. You are a fund of so much of it - forgive the above. I am in amused  mode because I am preparing for my tax return chappy...... biggest decision pf the day being  recalling what sort of bikkies he likes with his coffee.  the rest is muddle and he can sort it.

Pastille Day;

1 Make a blackcurrant purée by gently heating the blackcurrants, 85g of the sugar and water in a pan. Stir slowly until the sugar has dissolved, and then strain through a fine sieve. Allow to cool
2 Put the blackcurrant purée and glucose in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Mix together the remaining caster sugar, citric acid and pectin until lump free and add this to the saucepan with the blackcurrant purée mixture
3 Double line a 10cm square container with cling film 4 Using a sugar thermometer, cook the blackcurrant mixture until the temperature reaches 116°C, then pour the mixture into the container. Place in the fridge for around 30 minutes until set
5 Once set, remove from the container and cut into 1 1/4cm squares. Lightly dust with caster sugar and serve

........................................................................
Ingredients
225g of blackcurrants
185g of caster sugar, plus extra for dusting
1 dash of water
50g of liquid glucose
1g of citric acid
9g of pectin

Caro wrote:

I used to love potato scones, but I haven't made them or had them made for me for years. Every now and again someone/thing reminds me of them.

Caro,


I read here for the first time about "potato scones". Did some research on the net and see now what it is. But how is it prepared?
With "pattaten puree" (mashed potatoes)? And then baken? Never seen nor eaten it...
What we knew: mashed potatoes with eggs, butter and milk and then in an ovenproof dish heated till there was a crust on it...

Something we ate for the immediate hunger and quickly prepared, but I didn't find anything on the internet about this in the Belgian kitchen...it can be that it was only in my wife's and my mother's family that it was prepared...omelette of eggs with potato flour and milk....it can also be that that was the basic for adding some fillings as leek or other vegetables, but which was never added in our families...

Kind regards, Paul.

Pail, a tattie (potato) scone is made with cold, thoroughly mashed potato, drier than pommes puree, with no milk or cream. It is then mixed with about 1/3 of its weight in four and a little butter, rolled out, cut into triangles and fried in butter, traditionally on s girdle which in Scotland is not a lady's corset but a flat pan.

Here's a girdle:    




We usually eat them either cold with butter and a cup of tea or hot, fried, as part of a real breakfast thus:



If you are wondering what the square, brown item is, it's a lorne sausage, a beef sausage that is made into a brick shape and sliced.



And now I'm starving..........

A dish for Black Country Day (15th July 2015)


500g of dried grey peas
500g of chopped bacon
75g of pearl barley
1 chopped onion
oil for frying
pepper but salt is optional as there is loads in bacon
oxo cube (some add this - I don't)

Soak peas and pearl barley in water and bicarb of soda overnight, drain and wash several times.
In a large pan, fry bacon and onion in a little oil, when browned add oxo cube (optional).
Add about 500 ml of water and bring to boil.
Add your peas and barley, top up water. Simmer for about four hours but keep topping up water. Serve with crusty bread.

(The simmering can be done in a slow cooker, but will need double the time)

Cunchy Lettice leaves freshly picked (of the cos type) dipped in vinegar and then sugar with bread and butter - is this just a rural Essex thing or common? And beetroot sandwiches, I was told today.

ferval wrote:

Pail, a tattie (potato) scone is made with cold, thoroughly mashed potato, drier than pommes puree, with no milk or cream. It is then mixed with about 1/3 of its weight in four and a little butter, rolled out, cut into triangles and fried in butter, traditionally on s girdle which in Scotland is not a lady's corset but a flat pan.

Here's a girdle:    




We usually eat them either cold with butter and a cup of tea or hot, fried, as part of a real breakfast thus:



If you are wondering what the square, brown item is, it's a lorne sausage, a beef sausage that is made into a brick shape and sliced.



And now I'm starving..........

Ferval,

thank you very much for your explanation of potato scone. I suppose your "four" is "flour".
And yes up to 72 years  not eaten or tasted scone, but from your description I can imagine a bit how it tastes...

I suppose that there is nothing better than Scotch beef, but to have a glimpse of how it tastes...is that something like the Target corned beef of my childhood? delicious was it and for me still is...eaten cold or in slices baken in butter...
http://www.targeter.net/target-cornedbeef.htm


Your colleague in culinary enjoyement, Paul.

21 July 1831 - Following the successful uprising against the Dutch, on 21 July 1831 Leopold of Saxe-Coburg was crowned as the first King of the Belgians. Henceforth the day is celebrated as Belgian National Day.

So unless Paul has any specific recommendations I suggest a typically Belgian menu of:

Moules-frites/Mosselen-friet;
Carbonade à la Flamande/Stoverij, with a gratin aux chicons (Belgian endive)/Gegratineede witloof;
Tarte au riz/Rijstevlaai;

.... and all washed down by good Belgian beer, perhaps a blonde beer like Duvel with the mussels, a dubbel beer like Chimay Red with the carbonade, and a fruit beer like Kriek lambic with the rice tart.

Miam miam.

My word those Sax-Coburgs got about a bit. Sounds a good menu - never fried mussels - loved the smoked ones I had in Belgium - straight out of the paper bag before we got home. Now go and have a fling with benefits from religious dance and theatre - or not.

Moules-frites is mussels and fries. I loved the smoked mussels that you used to be able to get in small tins, via Tescos, from Korea ... though maybe that says more about my local Tesco, located as it was in the Surrey Stockbroker Belt between Claygate and Oxshott, than anything else.

King Leopold was Queen Victoria's uncle as well as dear Albert's uncle too ... so those Saxe-Coburgs could perhaps have done with getting about a bit more, rather than always 'keeping it in the family'.

Meles meles wrote:

Moules-frites is mussels and fries. I loved the smoked mussels that you used to be able to get in small tins, via Tescos, from Korea ... though maybe that says more about my local Tesco, located as it was in the Surrey Stockbroker Belt between Claygate and Oxshott, than anything else.

King Leopold was Queen Victoria's uncle as well as dear Albert's uncle too ... so those Saxe-Coburgs could perhaps have done with getting about a bit more, rather than always 'keeping it in the family'.

Meles meles,

thank you very much to have celebrated with this typical Belgian menu...
Had yesterday prepared a lot about the Saxe Coburg Gotha with some details about the women Saxe Coburg...even some sad histories...but already too late on the evening...

Kind regards and with esteem for your sustained support of the forum, your Belgian friend Paul.

PaulRyckier wrote:

Meles meles wrote:

Moules-frites is mussels and fries. I loved the smoked mussels that you used to be able to get in small tins, via Tescos, from Korea ... though maybe that says more about my local Tesco, located as it was in the Surrey Stockbroker Belt between Claygate and Oxshott, than anything else.

King Leopold was Queen Victoria's uncle as well as dear Albert's uncle too ... so those Saxe-Coburgs could perhaps have done with getting about a bit more, rather than always 'keeping it in the family'.

Meles meles,

thank you very much to have celebrated with this typical Belgian menu...
Had yesterday prepared a lot about the Saxe Coburg Gotha with some details about the women Saxe Coburg...even some sad histories...but already too late on the evening...

Kind regards and with esteem for your sustained support of the forum, your Belgian friend Paul.

That tiny land of Saxe-Coburg had quite an impact on the European royal history...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Saxe-Coburg_and_Gotha

And from what I read and in my humble opinion it started all with
Countess Augusta Reuss of Ebersdorf
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Countess_Augusta_Reuss_of_Ebersdorf
Her husband Franz Frederick Anton was constantly busy with literature and music, a very cultural man, not interested in politics, but it was his wife who was the leader in the family, constantly looking around in Europe in search of a good political marriage...a bit the Habsburg's way: "Bella gerant allii, tu felix Austria nube"
From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Latin_phrases_(B)

bella gerant alii Protesilaus amet!

Others wage war Protesilaus should love!

Originally from Ovid, Heroides 13.84,[1] where Laodamia is writing to her husband Protesilaus who is at the Trojan War. She begs him to stay out of danger, but he was in fact the first Greek to die at Troy. Also used of the Habsburg marriages of 1477 and 1496, written as bella gerant alii, tu felix Austria nube (let others wage war; you, happy Austria, marry). Said by King Matthias.

And for her seven surviving children she succeeded...
Everybody knows the link to Queen Victoria and our Belgian Leopold...
But this evening I want to point to two female Saxe-Coburgs where the second one had even a tragic (in my opinion) life...
The one married into the Russian royal family:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Princess_Juliane_of_Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld
And the daughter of Leopold I of Belgium, the sister of Leopold II:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carlota_of_Mexico

Kind regards, Paul.

As today, 28th July, is Henry and Catherine's wedding day, here's a recipe for a nice Tudor cake:


Tudor Wedding Cake Recipe


To make the best Wedding Cake.


The Countesse of Rutlands Receipt of making the rare Banbury Cake which was so much praised at her Daughters (the right Honourable the Lady Chawerths) wedding. Imprimis Take a peck of fine flower, and halfe an ounce of large Mace, halfe an ounce of Nutmegs, and halfe an ounce of Cinnamon, your Cinnamon and Nutmegs must be sifted through a Searce, two pounds of Butter, halfe a score of Eggs, put out four of the whites of them, something above a pint of good Ale-yeast, beate your Eggs very well and straine them with your yeast, and a little warme water into your flowre, and stirre them together, then put your butter cold in little Lumpes: The water you knead withall must be scalding hot, if you will make it good past, the which having done, lay the past to rise in a warme Cloth a quarter of an hour, or thereupon; Then put in ten pounds of Currans, and a little Muske and Ambergreece dissolved in Rosewater; your Currans must be made very dry, or else they will make your Cake heavy, strew as much Sugar finely beaten amongst the Currans, as you shall think the water hath taken away the sweetnesse from them; Break your past into little pieces, into a kimnell or such like thing, and lay a Layer of past broken into little pieces, and a Layer of Currans, untill your Currans are all put in, mingle the past and the Currans very well, but take heed of breaking the Currans, you must take out a piece of past after it hath risen in a warme cloth before you put in the currans to cover the top, and the bottom, you must roule the cover something thin, and the bottom likewise, and wet it with Rosewater, and close them at the bottom of the side, or the middle which you like best, prick the top and the sides with a small long Pin, when your Cake is ready to go into the Oven, cut it in the midst of the side round about with a knife an inch deep, if your Cake be of a peck of Meale, it must stand two hours in the Oven, your Oven must be as hot as for Manchet.


Given the other happening of the day, a witty cook could also present (perhaps) a jolly marchpane subtlety  - a nicely constructed sugarwork scaffold with a couple of little figures on top - one minus his head?

That would go down well with our favourite Duke, but the King probably wouldn't appreciate the joke. Then again, he might.

Shouldn't there also be little sugar figures of Francis Dereham, Thomas Culpepper and Lady Rochford lurking on Catherine's cake ... as supporters for the tottering top layer perhaps?

But your suggestion for a subtlety did bring to mind a recipe idea by Robert May, principal cook to King Charles II. In 'The Accomplisht Cook', (1660) May describes how to make a sugar sculpture of a hart which is hollow. The hart's body is then filled with a thickened red wine jelly and the hole in the hart's side stoppered up with a miniature arrow. The intention was for the guest of honour to draw out the arrow whereupon the hart would dramatically bleed drops of wine. I've always felt one could take the same idea and do a St Sebastian sculpture, although that would probably be suitable only for a really camp, high church do, at say a catholic seminary.

Meles meles wrote:

 The hart's body is then filled with a thickened red wine jelly and the hole in the hart's side stoppered up with a miniature arrow.The intention was for the guest of honour to draw out the arrow whereupon the hart would dramatically bleed drops of wine. I've always felt one could take the same idea and do a St Sebastian sculpture, although that would probably be suitable only for a really camp, high church do, at say a catholic seminary.

What a charming idea. And ideally Sebastian would drip a nicely thickened Bucky wine jelly from every wound!


Yes, he'd definitely make a lovely cake for a Cardinal.

The cake recipe is fascinating, Temps and ought to be a callenge on that Baking Programme....many unusual steps - and the kimnel(?) baking tin is interesting and surely must be large.

Priscilla wrote:

The cake recipe is fascinating, Temps and ought to be a callenge on that Baking Programme....many unusual steps - and the kimnel(?) baking tin is interesting and surely must be large.

Apparently the Countess of Rutland's wedding cake was an absolute whopper: it is mentioned in this review of Food and the Rites of Passage, a publication which sounds very interesting.

I do apologise that the piece is from The Tablet, which is a Catholic organ    - sheer coincidence that Lucy Lethbridge's article came up when I googled "Countess of Rutland's wedding cake". Not me being all borin' 'n' holy again and reading borin' 'n' holy stuff - honest.

(I'm actually reading Sam Harris's book: The End of Faith today. If your thread ever revives,  P., I'll quote this cheery little snippet from Stephanie Merritt of the Observer. She recommends Harris' book, saying: "A radical attack on the most sacred of liberal precepts - the notion of tolerance...An eminently sensible rallying cry for a more ruthless secularisation of society." Mmm. There'll be no place for woollies like me in the coming brave new world, methinks.)



But stop that at once, Temperance. Here's relevant stuff about cake. And lots of other foody/history details:


Review of Food and the Rites of Passage by Lucy Lethbridge in The Tablet



Around 1569, the miniaturist Joris Hoefnagel, a Flemish refugee living on the south bank of the Thames, painted a wonderful picture of a wedding in the nearby village of Bermondsey. Each tiny, intricate detail gives us a clue to the elaborate rituals which a sixteenth-century marriage celebration could incorporate. A bridal procession emerges from the church of St Mary Magdalene; two young men and two young women lead the way, carrying enormous bride-cakes; they are followed by two fiddlers and a bride leader, or cupbearer, who carries a large bunch of rosemary in a golden ewer, its branches tied with tiny red and white “bride knots” and two streaming ribbons – “bride laces”; gilded flags among them are painted with minuscule armorial designs, the ribbons are perhaps inscribed with mottoes. The processing figures each carry a pair of the scented white gloves which it was customary to present to wedding guests. In an open kitchen, a feast is being prepared: haunches of meat turning on a long spit and cooks pulling from the oven enormous pies – probably filled with venison.



Modern church weddings are still imbued with old customs. They are perhaps the only surviving area of modern life where people still have an almost superstitious regard for traditions. Yet many of these rituals have been entirely forgotten. What has happened to rosemary, for example? Once one of the chief components of the wedding, symbolic of both potency and remembrance and thought to be a vital cordial for the heart, its sprigs were sprinkled ceremoniously with rosewater. But other traditions have evolved: the Italian sugared nuts known as “confetti” are now pieces of coloured paper scattered over bride and groom as they leave the church (even earlier they scattered ears of wheat – symbols of fertility); the spiced wine or “Hippocras” which was once the special feasting drink is now sparkling wine or champagne. Then there is the wedding cake: the vast, lozenge-shaped pastry cases (the Countess of Rutland’s receipt for making Banbury cake produces a 30-pound monster 18 inches in diameter) carried before the bride in Hoefnagel’s painting bear little resemblance to the three-tier confection, swathed in marzipan, which is traditional today. But nonetheless they share features: the rich plumcake mixture inside the pastry cases is really just like the spiced fruitcake of today. Paste of almonds, or marchpane (also known as “matrimony”), was once one of the most expensive foods you could buy and therefore associated with the grandest occasions. In some areas of Europe it was the custom to break the cake over the bride’s head – John Aubrey linked it with a Roman practice – even in the nineteenth century a local historian from Yorkshire describes “a thin currant cake, marked in squares, though not entirely cut through” broken over a local bride. This book examines with riveting detail the food associated with all the important passages of life – not just marriage but also childbirth, baptism and death. In the sixteenth century pregnant women were advised to eat cock sparrows and leek juice for a smooth confinement. In the north of England it was customary to give a woman in labour a “groaning cake”, which would be cut into the exact number of slices of those present to avoid bad luck. It was common to eat chocolate at funerals and Parson Woodforde, invaluable chronicler of all things edible, wrote that in 1782, at the funeral of “Mrs Howe”, the guests had “Cake and Wine and Chocolate and dried Toast”. No expense was spared in a sending off: in 1760, mourners at Farmer Keld of Whitby’s funeral put away nine large hams, eight legs of veal, 20 stone of beef, 16 stone of mutton, 15 stone of Cheshire cheese, 110 penny loaves and 30 ankers of ale. But provision was made too for the poor: in Sheffield, being buried “Hallam Fashion” meant that the guests brought their own bread and cheese to save the family expense.


Fifteen stone of Cheshire cheese - crikey - I just can't imagine that.

Here's the wedding procession from Joris Hoefnagel's 'A Wedding at Bermondsey', that you referred to Temp. You probably need a magnifying glass to see all the details but the two women each carrying a huge wedding cake, the two men each carrying an enormous pie* supported in a cloth slung round their necks, the fiddlers and the cup bearer holding his ewer and rosemary branches aloft, are all fairly prominent. Joris Hoefnagel apparently also depicted himself in there somewhere:


 
* I believe the tradition was for the women to bear cakes while the men carried pies .... although since a celebratory game/meat pie of the period typically contained a lot of sugar, dried fruit and spices - and so was very much like a real Christmas mince pie - to make a quibbling distinction between cake and pie is probably just an obtuse academic matter.

Meles meles wrote:

 
* I believe the tradition was for the women to bear cakes while the men carried pies .... although since a celebratory game/meat pie of the period typically contained a lot of sugar, dried fruit and spices - and so was very much like a real Christmas mince pie - to make a quibbling distinction between cake and pie is probably just an obtuse academic matter.

:


But such "obtuse academic matter(s)" can lead to fierce dispute. We have only to think of the bitter controversy in our own times as to the exact legal status of the Jaffa Cake. A biscuit can be taxed as a "luxury", whereas a cake, as a "food", is exempt:



McVitie’s had been making Jaffa Cakes since 1927. But they were challenged for labelling their chocolate orange treats as ‘cakes’ in 1991 by Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise.

It was accepted under UK law that biscuits were a luxury item and the full VAT would be levied. But cakes, on the other hand, have been regarded as a staple food — so were zero-rated for the purposes of VAT.

Customs and Excise decided to rule Jaffa Cakes to be biscuits, partly covered in chocolate, and therefore standard-rate. But the cake manufacturers appealed against the decision and the matter went to court.

The arguments for Jaffa Cakes being a biscuit included: their size, as they were more like biscuits than cakes; packaging, as it was similar to biscuits; and marketing, as they were generally displayed for sale with biscuits rather than cakes. It was also put to the court that they were eaten as a snack, with the fingers, whereas a cake may be expected to be eaten with a fork.

But the key turning point was when McVitie’s QC highlighted how cakes harden when they go stale, biscuits go soggy. A Jaffa goes hard. The case was proven.

During the court battle between Mcvitie’s and Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise, Mcvitie’s baked a giant Jaffa Cake to prove that Jaffa cakes were really cakes and not biscuits.

It was a long and costly dispute, but McVities finally tasted sweet success and Jaffa Cakes were finally recognised as chocolate covered cakes.

Now the £1.19billion Jaffa Cakes made every year are free of the consumer tax.





I wonder how big the giant Jaffa Cake was that McVities produced to prove their legal point? Was it an exhibit in court, or was the soggy/hard test conducted elsewhere?

Up here in the northern bad lands, any wedding or funeral is judged by the quality and quantity of the purvey, traditionally for a funeral it's steak pie and lots of drink with oft times predictable results.

From a court report of an affray:
Gsw. 1996  Herald 26 Apr 23:
They explained that they were mourners and, having seen their granny off at the crematorium and having consumed the purvey, thought they would carry on the mourning at the karaoke on the grounds that the old gal would have liked that.

Weddings are of course expensive events and so developed the idea of the penny wedding when all the guests contributed a penny towards the purvey and any ballance went towards setting up the couple's new home.

Here's an 18th c. one. I sympathise with the woman whose shoes were clearly not the most comfy for much jigghing.




This early 19th c. one is a little posher but also filled with wonderful details.



And this is the wedding I would really have liked to attend. The title is The Shamit Reel, the first dance at the wedding.

Mry. 1836 J. Grant Penny Wedding 31:
This reel was named the Shamit Reel, as it was considered that it would take away the shame and bashfulness which the bride laboured under before so many people.

Great pics, ferv. In the first two, none of the women seem to be enjoying the parties  tho the men are. As ever in such works the detail is fascinating - and informative. What do you reckon was in the foreground serving bowl with spoon, in the top pic? Haggis?
Pleased also to see the dogs went too. In the my latest family wedding, their large family dog went too, suitably beribboned and then, bored, he slept across the aisle for the wedded couple to step over.

Atholl brose maybe? Or cock-a-leekie? (no sniggering at the back please)

I wonder if a cloutie dumpling was part of the purvey since that was always the traditional celebration dish, with favours in, it for many of the folk I knew as a child. It was never a favourite of mine unless fried with bacon and eggs. Butchers still sell it here by the slice as well as in bakeries.

Ferval,

"steak pie" Can you elaborate at the subject for a Belgian ignorant as I?

Kind regards to the lady of the North of the isle.

From the European peninsula, Paul.

Here's an account of another sort of "wedding" which seems to have been the excuse for a fairly good party too :-


DUFF LINK SEE NEXT POST!

Here's an account of another sort of "wedding" which seems to have been the excuse for a fairly good party too :-

https://texthistory.wordpress.com/2015/05/14/black-country-wife-sale/

Paul, I can't be certain of Scottish pies, but a steak pie in NZ would have pastry on the top and bottom, and be cooked in a pie dish or similar.  It would contain steak, cut into small square pieces and cooked, perhaps with some vegetables in some water with seasoning, perhaps some flour for thickening.

Pies in NZ are the takeaways of choice, probably.  They can come in sizes for four or six people, but generally when people here talk of a pie they mean a smallish one for one person.  They are often made of minced steak, but can be made with steak pieces and cheese, or chicken and apricot, or various other fillings.  Each year hear we have a best pie competition throughout the country.  This year it was won by a supermarket pie, which was a little odd, but I think a new baker had decided to try for this honour.  Best pie

No, no, Caro, a Scottish steak pie never has pastry on the bottom, only on the top and it must be puff and packed full of pieces of beef with a small amount of gravy.




Every butcher here sells these and many make their own, at the weekend my local butcher's window is full of various sizes all ready to put in the oven and his are particularly good. A butcher's is often judged on the quality of their pies; the beef should be shoulder, skirt oe hough and slowly braised for ages to be meltingly tender with a rich, brown meaty gravy. Even M&S does a 'Scottish' steak pie. Do they sell it in England I wonder?

Hmm, no pastry on the bottom so not self-supporting .... so presumably if you make your own it is baked in a pie dish (as above), and those that are bought from butchers or supermarkets nowadays come cooked in an aluminium foil dish. But what did butchers traditionally bake them in? Did you used to get a cheap ceramic or enamelled dish with each shop bought pie? (Not so improbable ... I once bought a ready-prepared shellfish concoction from the local traiteur and that came in a sturdy white-glazed dish suitable to serve from at the table after reheating. The prawns in saffron and cream have long since been eaten, but the temporary ceramic dish, now rather crazed, chipped and discoloured, is still going strong).

Or did the butcher originally just scoop portions out of a big dish ... onto what, newspaper? or did one usually need to bring one's own dish? Again that's not a particularly uncommon practice here. My local butcher/traiteur/deli will happily take your own serving dish, put it on the scales and zero the weight, then fill it up as required with pre-prepared food, arrange a suitable garnish on top and then charge you for the final weight. They'll even give you a small tub of extra sauce and a punnet of chopped parsely etc, to add at the last minute, just as you serve it up to your guests saying: "Oh it's just something I rustled up, it's my own recipe of course ..."  

Also Ferval, please tell me about Cloutie Dumplings ... are they called that 'cos they're cooked in a clout/a cloth?

PS : And while we are talking about pies, do people still use pie funnels (ceramic chimneys, often blackbird-shaped, to let the steam out)? I have several that I inherited from my mother and grandmother .... though I have never felt the need to use them when actually baking pies. My inherited pie funnels all came from Sussex Granny, mum's mum ... we got absolutely nothing from Northumberland Granny, dad's mum, by way of either keepsake or token of rememberance, ... but then I doubt northern Gran would have ever bothered with such, "highfalutin' southern fancies", such as pie funnels! But seriously are pie funnels just a decadent southern fad, or were they actually more widespread?

And while we are talking about pies, do people still use pie funnels (ceramic chimneys, often blackbird-shaped, to let the steam out)? I have several that I inherited from my mother and grandmother .

Yup, I've got one but also a selection of more practical  white conical ceramic ones. The pastry always seems to slip down the blackbird's neck.

It's the meat that holds up the pastry in a steak pie, MM, it needs to be really full of chunks and the pastry laid across, pastry funnel is optional but not essential. Where the gravy has soaked into the bottom of the pastry is possibly the best bit. I can't actually recall how they were supplied before aluminium dishes but I think it may have been in enamel pie dishes or perhaps you took your own along the day before. Certainly every house had at least one of those, I currently have two, little and large, but home made ones never seem to taste quite the same as the butcher's.

Clootie dumplings are indeed boiled in a floured cloth, it's an art and one I've never felt the desire to master. This gives it a skin and a particular texture, more robust than a steamed pudding but a close relative of Christmas pud, and originate from the days before ovens were commonplace so it was boiled for hours on the fire. I know people who still make one for all family birthdays.

Here's a recipe: http://mortgagefreeinthree.com/2012/12/clootie-dumpling/

I thought that clootie dumplings and other bag puddings had a very ancient pedigree but it seems the boiled cloth-wrapped pudding (as distinct from haggis and sausage-type puddings boiled in animal intestines) only came in at the beginning of the 17th century. The earliest written reference in Britain to a cloth-wrapped pudding is a recipe for a boiled 'College Pudding' made of flour, breadcrumbs, suet, dried fruit, sugar and eggs ..... "and throw your pudding in, being tyed in a faire cloath". John Murrell, 'A New Booke of Cookerie', London 1617.

Even the French writer Henri Misson, whose comments on English food and cooking were not generally favourable, couldn't resist extolling the virtues of the English pudding:

"... the pudding is a dish very difficult to be described, because of the several sorts there are of it: flour, milk, eggs, butter, sugar, suet, marrow, raisins etc are the most common ingredients ... They make them fifty several ways. BLESSED BE HE THAT INVENTED PUDDING for it is a manna that hits the palates of all sorts of people. Ah what an excellent thing is an English pudding!"

H Misson, 'Memoirs and Observations in His Travels over England', 1719.

I feel really ancient now - I've just made another cloth bag for cooking pease pudding. And have more cloth to hand for being brave one day and attempting boiled puddens like wot me muvver made.

You've got me fired up P ... in the cause of historical research I think I need to make an old-fashioned 'pudden', to an old recipe and boiled in a cloth. Just for interest you understand, as I've never boiled a pud' in a pudding-cloth and my mother always steamed her puddings, which she made in deep pudding bowls whether savoury or sweet, and cooked in an ancient, old-fashioned, two-part steamer (which I really wished I'd kept when we cleared the house out).

PS : Ferval, you commented about one of the Scottish wedding pictures: "I sympathise with the woman whose shoes were clearly not the most comfy for much jigging." .... but are you sure she's not just changing from her smart highland brogues into her delicate dancing slippers? Here people turn up to the village bbq, bal dansant, or whatever in their normal shoes, but then change into their soft, heel-less dancing pumps once the band strikes up. The traditional dance here is the Sardane and for the delicate foot-work the rope-soled, canvas espadrille, cross-gartered to the knee, typically up white or yellow stockinged legs, ... exactly like Malvolio in 'Twelfth Night' ... is still de rigeur for all the serious dancers male and female alike, although actually anyone is welcome to join the circle.

In my youth, most were "steak puddings" rather than "pies" - in a suet crust, not in pastry.

Gilgamesh of Uruk wrote:

In my youth, most were "steak puddings" rather than "pies" - in a suet crust, not in pastry.

Up North, especially in Orwellian haunts such as Bolton and Wigan, an individual steak (using the word steak loosely) pudding, purchased at the local chippy, is referred to as a "babby's head", presumably because of the rotundity and pallor of said steamed pudding when it is removed from its little aluminium foil dish. The pudding is usually served with chips and gravy, although  "a dab o' curry" ladled over the babby's yed is also acceptable.

Here is the relevant entry from Urban Dictionary:


babby's yed

Also known as a steak and kidney pudding, and is used mainly in Northern England. It is pronounced exactly as it is read, and is phonetic of the way us people from Wigan say 'baby's head.' I suppose some people must think that a steak and kidney pudding must resemble a baby's head.

"I'll have a babby's yed, chips and gravy please"


Here is the posh version, served on a plate with Mother's Pride white sliced bread.

"Train smash and babies' heads" was Jackspeak (Navy slang) for steak and kidney pudding & mashed potato with pusser's tinned tomatos..

Caro wrote:

Paul, I can't be certain of Scottish pies, but a steak pie in NZ would have pastry on the top and bottom, and be cooked in a pie dish or similar.  It would contain steak, cut into small square pieces and cooked, perhaps with some vegetables in some water with seasoning, perhaps some flour for thickening.

Pies in NZ are the takeaways of choice, probably.  They can come in sizes for four or six people, but generally when people here talk of a pie they mean a smallish one for one person.  They are often made of minced steak, but can be made with steak pieces and cheese, or chicken and apricot, or various other fillings.  Each year hear we have a best pie competition throughout the country.  This year it was won by a supermarket pie, which was a little odd, but I think a new baker had decided to try for this honour.  Best pie

 Caro, still so busy nowadays excuses fro the delay...


thank you very much for the explaining...have to say that it is all "Chinese" (Greek?) to me...
http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/252607/proper-beef-ale-and-mushroom-pie


We are more accustomed to French/Belgian kitchen (perhaps some influence from Holland and Germany too) and of course the Italian, Chinese/Indonesian, Spanish and a few Indian/Pakistani restaurants...

But how different is the Anglo-Saxon kitchen from the continental one...I really wasn't aware of it...

How Meles meles master all these different styles is an "enigma" for me...but perhaps that he got during his lifetime gradually embedded in our continental and Southern French kitchen...? Meles...?

Kind regards from the antipodes...

hmm, that would be the top of South Africa on the same circle...but yes prolonging the circle from here over the North pole we would arrive nevertheless in New Zealand on that same circle...

Your friend from Belgium, Paul.

9 August 1974 - Richard Nixon formally resigned, becoming the first and to date only US president to have been forced to relinquish the office.

Accordingly for dish of the day I propose, 'Watergate Salad', or as it is more correctly called, 'Watergate Dessert' (but also commonly known as Green Goop, Green Stuff and Green Fuff). This dish became popular in the US shortly after Nixon’s resignation, but is there actually any direct link to him or the Watergate Scandal that was his undoing?

Kraft Foods, makers of two of the principal ingredients (Pistachio Pudding Mix and Cool Whip … and at this point I guess you’ll realise that we are not talking particularly sophisticated cooking here), have said that while they publicised a recipe for a ‘Pistachio Pineapple Delight’, in 1975 to promote their newly launched ‘Pistachio Pudding Mix’, they didn’t refer to it as ‘Watergate Salad’ until consumers started requesting the recipe under the new name. They (Kraft Foods) have stated that they believe it was a Chicago food retailer that started calling the recipe ‘Watergate Salad’ in about 1974/75 to promote interest in the confection. Alternatively it has been suggested that it was devised by a sous-chef at the Watergate Hotel in Denver at about the same time, again trying to cash in on the notoriety of the President’s fall from grace.

But whatever its exact origins, here is a typical recipe for Watergate Dessert as given in 'The Deseret News’, (Utah, 4 April 1985) … sophisticated haut cuisine this most certainly is not!

Watergate Dessert.



1 standard can crushed pineapple in unsweetened juice.
1 pack of ‘Instant Pistachio Pudding’ (ie Kraft pistachio purée).
1 small tub ‘Cool Whip’ (ie Kraft artificial, non-dairy, imitation whipped cream).
1 cup mini marshmallows (ie the artificial whipped sugar variety not the real ones made from roots of the marsh-mallow plant).
3-4 bananas, sliced.

Add pineapple and juice to the pudding mix. Blend in the container of Cool Whip. Then fold in the sliced bananas and marshmallows, and chill.

….. it sounds disgusting and if consumed too frequently I’d have thought would be a sure recipe for diabetes. But perhaps I shouldn’t be too critical. Was Kraft’s 'Pistachio Pudding' really all that different in spirit from good old Bird’s 'Angel Delight'? And these were still the innocent days before the invention of high-fructose corn syrup, the hyper-sweet by-product of the industrial extraction of fuel-grade ethanol from GM maize. Yum Yum.

This is for LiR; veggie jellies. I use jelly crystals from Asian food stores because they are quick setting and no messing about with rubbery cubes. Conditioned to assorted gunk of dubious origins when abroad with no ill affects  - be your own judge tho- I thought I ought look up the ingredients for you. These faster setting jellies are made from agar - seaweed based. You might also want to set a few petrie dishes  with it and grow your own infection/penicillin/whatever.

In 1889 the Italian Alpine Club started construction of a permanent mountain refuge in the Monte Rosa massif which they hoped would enable them to further explore the adjoining Alpine peaks as well as housing a permanent high-altitude weather-station. The building, situated right on the Italian-Swiss border, was finally completed in 1893. For its inauguration they asked the Queen of Italy, Margherita the wife of King Umberto I, if they could name it in her honour. She graciously agreed and, probably much to everyone’s surprise, she also accepted their invitation to officially open it in person. However the ‘Queen Margherita Refuge’ (Capanna Regina Margherita) was then, as it still is today, the highest situated building in Europe, being located right on the summit of Punta Gnifetti, at an altitude of 4,554 metres:



So on 18 August 1893 the Queen - in the company of a various keen mountaineers, a contingent of elite Alpine troops, and a rather smaller entourage of less willing local politicians, regional dignitaries and court officials for whom protocol demanded they attend - gamely climbed up the mountain and performed the opening ceremony. They all presumably stayed there overnight as even today with improvements to the mountain trail it usually takes a full two days to make the ascent from the nearest village (one has to camp, or stay in other lower refuges for the first night). Although not technically difficult, it is nevertheless a very long strenuous climb, especially considering that the effects of low oxygen usually start to become increasingly apparent as one climbs above about 3500m altitude. And of course it becomes all the more difficult when ones royal person is clad in a heavy ankle-length skirt, long-sleeved blouse, a tight-fitting bodice and tweed jacket - which was then the usual garb for lady alpinists. So all credit to Her Majesty Queen Margherita of Italy for her pluck, and determination.



So for dish of the day - and it is just the thing to tuck into after a long day in the mountains - I propose ‘Pizza Margherita’. This pizza recipe admittedly used a traditional combination of simple ingredients, but with it’s topping of red tomato, green basil, and white mozzarella (to represent the colours of the Italian flag) was named in the queen’s honour during a royal visit to Naples in 1889. To accompany it I suggest a good Italian red like a Barolo or Montepulciano, … athough I suppose one could have a round of margaritas first, despite these being a 1930s Mexican invention and completely unrelated to Queen Maggie herself.

19 August 1561

Mary Queen of Scots returned to Scotland from France, arriving in Leith on 19 August 1561. Accordingly an eminently suitable dish of the day, and one that dates from only 70 years after the event, is ‘Queen of Scots Soupe’.

The recipe is apparently given in the 4th edition of John Murrell’s ‘A new booke of Cookerie’, published in London in 1631 (but it doesn’t appear in either the first edition of 1615, or the later 1638 edition, and I cannot find an online copy of the 1631 edition to verify it). However John Murrell’s recipe was reproduced in 'The Edinburgh Literary Journal', of September 1829, as follows:

'The soup is made thus: "Six chickens are cut in small pieces, with the heart, gizzard, and liver well washed, then put into a stew-pan, and just covered with water, and boiled till the chickens are enough. Season it with salt and cayenne pepper; and mince parsley with eight eggs, yolks and whites beat up together. Stir round altogether just as you are going to serve it up. Half a minute will boil the eggs."

The article goes on to add: "… we are seriously of the opinion that, for the sake of the Royal House of Stuart, it should immediately become a standard dish with all the defenders of Mary and her unfortunate family."

The above recipe, with its use of eggs to thicken, has quite a suitably 16th century French feel to it. If however you’d prefer a soup with a more Scottish taste then, despite the thoroughly French name, there’s also ‘Consommé Marie Stuart’. This is a delicate mutton consommé with finely chopped seasonal vegetables and a small quantity of pearl barley. However this seems to have been a late 19th century creation by Charles Ranhofer, who was the chef of the famous ‘Delmonico’s’ restaurant in New York from 1862 to 1896, when all things royal and Scottish were very much in vogue on both sides of the Atlantic.

Continuing the Scottish theme, this being the day in 1856 when condensed milk was patented, you can have a square or two of tablet with your after dinner coffee. Butter, lots of sugar and condensed milk - there's something quintessentially Scottish there.

The first soup only needs some lemon and a handful of rice to be avgolomeno.

Och aye ... tablet:



... but I think I'd better leave it to you, Ferval, to explain the subtleties of tablet (if that's not an oxymoron) to Paul R.   

 

I presume from this, Ferval, that condensed milk was patented in Scotland, though you don't precisely say so.  Perhaps that is why sometimes people seem a little puzzled, shocked even, when I say that it was a treat in our (Scottish-ancestry) household.  We were always given a can of it, later a tube, in our Christmas stockings as children, and allowed to eat it all ourselves!  To me what you call 'tablet' I would just think of as 'fudge'.

I love what I make and call avgolemono soup (don't know how genuine my version is) but the rest of the family weren't so keen on it, so we didn't have it often.

Sadly that delicious substance was patented in New York by Gail Borden.
http://todayinsci.com/B/Borden_Gail/BordenGail.htm




Don't you differentiate between fudge, soft and creamy and boiled to 'soft ball' and tablet, boiled longer so harder and slightly sandy in texture?
I'll happily eat either.

I have never used the word 'tablet' to mean this, Ferval, or ever heard it used.  I checked with my husband and he doesn't know it either.  I think we might talk of soft fudge or hard fudge.  Or perhaps just toffee.

22 August 1485 – The Battle of Bosworth - and so today’s dish just has to be ‘Bosworth Jumbles’.

Legend has it that these were a speciality of Richard III’s cook and that furthermore, improbable though it sounds, their recipe was discovered on the battlefield after the battle - it is even sometimes said that it was plucked from the dead hand of Richard’s cook himself! Ironically then, jumbles (or gumbals, gimbels, jambols etc) actually seem to be more of a Tudor fancy. True biscuits (bi-cuit ie twice cooked) like jumbles essentially use a post-medieval cooking technique and sweet biscuits only became well-known in England during the reign of Elizabeth I. The name comes from the latin, gemellus, meaning twin as they were often made as two-interlocked rings, (like so-called gimnel rings to be worn on the finger). Sometimes called knotts, they could also be made in a variety of entwined, plaited or knotted shapes:



The first published recipe for jumbles comes from ‘The good Huswifes Jewell’ by Thomas Dawson (London, 1585) which calls for the dough shapes to be first boiled, before being baked, in a similar way to how bagels are made:

To make Jombils, a hundred

Take twenty Egges and put them into a pot both the yolkes & the white, beat them wel, then take a pound of beaten suger and put to them, and stirre them wel together, then put to it a quarter of a peck of flower, and make a hard paste thereof, and then with Anniseede moulde it well, and make it in little rowles beeing long, and tye them in knots, and wet the ends in Rosewater, then put them into a pan of seething water. Then take them out with a Skimmer and lay them in a cloth to drie, lay them in a tart panne, the bottome beeing oyled, then put them into a temperat Ouen for one howre, turning then often in the Ouen.

A simplified modern recipe (just baked and not boiled first) might be something like this:

Bosworth Jumbles

12oz (350g) self-raising flour
8oz (225g) caster sugar
8oz (225g) butter
1 egg
1 teaspoon anise or almond essence

Preheat oven to 350°F/180°C
Mix flour and sugar together and rub in butter until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
Stir in egg and flavouring, and knead for about a minute until the mixture resembles a smooth dough.
Form balls of dough about size of a walnut, roll these into strips and then form into rings, figure-eights, or knot shapes.
Place on a greased and floured baking sheet, well spaced out, and bake in pre-heated oven for about 10 minutes turning if necessary so they bake evenly. Allow to cool.

They are said to be particularly delicious when eaten accompanied by maderia, sherry, port or other sweet wines, a fashion that became very à la mode for Georgian and early Victorian evening card parties.

Oh, excellent info, MM.

But what about a recipe for that nasty, gloating Henry Tydder? Something suitably Welsh(ish) perhaps?

That original recipe seems to be kind of akin to pretzels but using egg instead of yeast and no fat. They must have been as hard as rocks after an hour in the oven, are you sure they weren't really weaponry?

ferval,

If some of these are carted over to the pub, I'll have a look see as the old fermented missiles for the trebuchet may be reaching their 'sell-by' date, and these may, by the picture and the description, be a logical replacement.

Just let's have some test shots and we'll decide which model/-s will be best suited.