A Pot in Time

Milk Punch

2011-08-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

I came across this awesome recipe for Milk Punch on the Massachusetts Historical Society website. The recipe, which dates back to 1763, is from Ben Franklin himself! Check it out:

source

If you can't read his beautiful script, here is the transcription:

To make Milk Punch

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

Wow, Ben, that sounds intense!

I pondered making this incredibly interesting sounding punch, but the idea of peeling the rinds of 44 lemons made me reconsider. Plus, I don't own a Jelly-bag. In fact, what is a Jelly-bag? Anyone? So I decided instead to find an easier, smaller-batch version under the same name but more feasible for someone that doesn't want to buy six quarts of brandy.

Here's the updated recipe:

2 oz bourbon whiskey

3 oz half-and-half

1 tsp superfine sugar

1/4 tsp vanilla extract

1/4 tsp grated nutmeg

source

The verdict: Milk Punch is good. It's yummy and creamy and oh so decadent. I think this is the kind of drink that one should sip in front of a roaring fireplace, wrapped in red flannel, so I'll stash this recipe until late Fall or Winter. You should try it then too!

Happy adventuring!

Hygienic Way of Preparing Onions?

2011-08-21T10:55:00.000-07:00

Hygienic Way of Preparing Onions? I didn't realize my way of preparing onions was unhygienic! It's amazing how much food preparation, cookbooks, even food language has changed over the years.

This selection is from the Inglenook Cook Book from 1911. My edition of the book is from 1927 and is in poor form--the spine is cracked and duck-taped, the pages are torn and heavily yellowed--but I love that when I open the book, faded, handwritten recipes fall from between the pages. It seems like every time I open the cookbook new, mysterious pages present themselves to me. For instance, today when I was looking for a new recipe to write about, this little memoranda fell onto my lap:

This recipe is for pepper relish. It's hard to read, but it looks like the recipe calls for red peppers, green peppers, onions (put through a grinder--what's a grinder?), boiling water, vinegar, salt, and a whopping 2 cups of sugar! The real mystery is the note written in pencil at the bottom. I can make out the words "out of my book you copy," "send back" and "Mother." I wonder if the recipe ever made its way back to Mom. Hmm... Anyway, I'm off to the farmer's market with hopes of finding some red and green peppers to make this relish for a later post!

Do you have any old cookbooks? Find anything special between the pages?

Happy adventuring!

What's that?

2011-08-20T07:21:00.000-07:00

Most of the time I feel pretty comfortable talking about food--ingredients, techniques, equipment, etc. But this little tool (pictured below) really stumped me. We have a fork, a knife, and a...what is that? A chipped spoon? A spork wanna-be? What is it!? Matt and I found this pretty little piece of silver at Le Bec Fin in Philadelphia, a place where it would be totally uncool to ask how to use cutlery, let alone what it should be used for. So naturally, we ignored it. Never used it. And then (discreetly) took a picture of it.

Well, thanks to the wonderful world wide web, I've got an answer! It's a saucier spoon--a flattened, notched spoon used for saucing food like fish. Despite the completely ridiculous notion that we need a separate spoon to sauce our fish, I'm kind of sad that much of the tradition and ritual has been taken out of meals. I'm not saying that dinner needs to be formal. In fact, I prefer informal, rustic meals shared between loud and laughing friends and family. But there is something about the idea of taking the time to set the table with the utmost care in preparation for a long, loving meal that I find so alluring. Maybe if we spent more time preparing for our meals we'd feel the need to spend more time together at the table. So no more eating dinner on the couch in front of the television! I'm buying a saucier spoon.

Happy adventuring!

A Substitute for Meat

2011-08-19T07:53:00.000-07:00

I couldn't resist posting this little tip courtesy of Sister Cora Sell Brubaker of Hollidaysburg, Pa, from the Inglenook Cook Book, 1911. A substitute for meat that "will taste just as good"? Well sister, I guess since the beans, cabbage, and turnips are browned in lard (pig fat) they would taste just as good! I don't think this will be showing up as a side dish on my plate any time soon but give it a shot if you're feeling lard-venturous!

Do you keep lard in your kitchen?

Happy adventuring!

Absinthe

2011-08-18T08:43:00.000-07:00

Recently, my friend Mandy of Married up with Wine inspired me to get back into the blog game. She's made a mark in the blog world and encouraged me to continue with A Pot in Time, which was once a true passion of mine. So here we go--jumping back into the strange and delicious world of food and drink.

For my first post back, I'm going to talk about absinthe--a beverage that completely fulfills the "strange and delicious" aspects of this blog. My first experience with absinthe was in Prague when I watched my stepdad drink it. At this point it was illegal pretty much everywhere except the Czech Republic. For some reason, absinthe terrified me--it was a completely mysterious beverage that I believed would send me down the rabbit hole if I so much as smelled it. So I instead of trying it for myself, I sat, watched, and waited for my stepdad to see the Green Fairy, who never showed. (The bartender later told us that it would take about twelve shots of the stuff to start experiencing the symptoms that writers and artists like Pablo Picasso, Vincent Van Gogh, and Ernest Hemingway supposedly experienced while drinking the bohemian liquid.)

After some time passed and absinthe became legal in the states, I decided to give it a try at Jose Garces' bar and restaurant Village Whiskey in Philadelphia. The bar specializes in vintage cocktails, liquors and prohibition-style ingredients like house made bitters and creme de violette. I was impressed with the set up--absinthe spoons, cubes of sugar, a slow ice-water drip over the glasses. It was all very intriguing.

After waiting a considerable amount of time for the sugar to melt and watching the bright green liquid become a murky, foggy yellow, the absinthe was ready to drink. The flavor was bright, like sweet fennel and star anise, and cold yet warm like most strong alcohol. It was good and I enjoyed the whole process, but upon finishing my glass, the mystery and allure faded slightly. I'm sure when the brilliant struggling artists were getting sloshed at the Lapin Agile in Paris around the turn of the 20th century it was all far more grande. Maybe next time I'll pair the bottle with a type writer or paint brush and see what happens.

Have you tried absinthe? What did you think?

Happy adventuring!

Revolutionary War Balls

2010-01-24T15:21:00.000-08:00

I am lucky to live in Philadelphia, a city so rich in history that one can walk down a street and see Benjamin Franklin's grave, Betsy Ross's house, and the Liberty Bell within a few blocks. Since many of the buildings are original (a lot of them dating from the late 1700's), I cannot help but wonder what the city looked like when our nation was just beginning--when Ben and Betsy were still kickin' and the Bell had yet to crack. All this musing prompted me to think about the Revolutionary War, and therefore research the food of that time. I found a few interesting recipes, and although Bannock Cakes (a mixture of cornmeal and water) sounded super, I decided to go with a recipe called Revolutionary War Balls. According to my sources, militia men carried these in their pockets. Cooks.com, foodista.com, and wikianswers.com all agree that the recipe is as follows:

1 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 c. milk
1 pinch salt
1 tsp. vanilla
1 big dash nutmeg
3 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
Powdered sugar
Cinnamon sugar

Mix 8 ingredients. Drop by tablespoon in hot fat. While warm, roll in sugar or cinnamon mixture.

The verdict: Revolutionary War Balls are essentially fried dough--something that you might find at a carnival, like funnel cake. Because they are so delicious, I find it hard to believe that militia men carried them in their pockets during the Revolutionary War. Having said that, I can imagine a soldier's sweetie tucking a few of these in a handkerchief for her man before he left home. If you're going to attempt this recipe, make sure you keep the dough in the fat (canola oil will do just fine) until they are golden brown. A few of my Revolutionary War Balls came out a little undercooked because I had to experiment with the timing since many old recipes don't give certain specifics (such as temperature and times). Other than some missing details in the recipe, these were pretty simple and in my opinion, worth a shot.

Happy adventuring!

Krupnik Polski

2009-12-01T16:51:00.000-08:00

A few years ago I took a trip to Poland where I was introduced to a whole new culinary world. Of course, I ordered the popular pierogie--although this time it was covered in what was translated as "lard droppings"--as well as cold beet soup and traditional borscht. In addition to the delicious meals, I was introduced to vodka. Yes, vodka--and its many preparations. For instance, one night after finishing dinner at a local restaurant, the waiter brought over complimentary cherry vodka shots (as if they were after-dinner mints). Then, the next night, I was served a hot vodka tea, which was quite shocking (I'm an Earl Grey girl, myself).

A few months ago, I was reminded of my trip to Poland during the Pulaski day parade, where Polish families flooded the streets to celebrate in the name of Kazimierz Pulaski, who was a Polish soldier that emigrated to Philadelphia to help in the American Revolutionary War. (Eventually, because of his efforts in the war, Pulaski became known as Father of the American Cavalry.") Seeing all of the Polish-American citizens celebrating in the streets inspired me to post a Polish recipe. Since I found it so shocking before, I decided to look for something similar to the vodka tea I tasted in Poland. What I found is called Krupnik Polski, or Polish Honey Vodka. It is as follows:

1-1/2 cup honey
2/3 cup water
1 tsp. vanilla extract or 1 vanilla bean
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
8 sticks cinnamon
2 whole cloves
3 strips lemon peel
1 bottle vodka

Combine honey with the water, vanilla, spices and the lemon peel in a large saucepan. Bring this to a boil cover, and simmer for about 5 min. Add vodka, remove from the heat serve hot or cold.

The verdict: First of all, let me say that I cut this recipe in half. Unless you are Kazimierz Pulaski and have an entire calvary to serve, you don't need an entire bottle of vodka. Secondly, I'll admit to you that although I was introduced to vodka in Poland and have fond memories of the experience, I don't really like it. But, if I were to drink vodka, this would be the way. Krupnik Polski is super sweet and spicy--perfect for a cold winter day. Since it can be served hot or cold, I chose to drink it warm like the tea I had in Poland. It reminded me very much of the beverage. Lastly, let me recommend this drink only to those who will be staying in for the rest of the night. Although it’s sweetened and spiced, it is essentially a glass of vodka. Be responsible!

Happy adventuring!

A Flour Pudding

2009-11-12T19:26:00.000-08:00

I was drawn to “American Cookery” (1796) by Amelia Simmons because it is rumored to be the first American cook book. Upon closer examination of the book (provided by Project Gutenberg) I saw that Simmons' "American Cookery" is not only a culinary gem, but a historical one. Simmons, an American orphan, wrote a lengthy introduction to her cook book explaining the reasons for its publication. The cook book was "for the improvement of the rising generation of Females in America" especially those that had been orphaned and those that "are reduced to the necessity of going into families in the line of domestics, or taking refuge with their friends or relations, and doing those things which are really essential to the perfecting them as good wives and useful members of society." The rest of Simmons' cook book reads more like a piece of literature than a recipe book. She details the intricacies of making the best bacon, of preparing a good Gooseberry Tart, and mixing the perfect syllabub. (A syllabub is an English desert in which milk or cream is curdled with wine or cider. Traditionally, the cow was milked directly into the bowl of wine! I hope to attempt a syllabub in the future.)

When I came across Ms. Simmons' Flour Pudding recipe, I decided it was worth a shot. The ingredients were simple enough and although there were some details missing (for instance, at what temperature to bake the pudding) I thought I'd go with my instincts. The recipe is as follows:

Seven eggs, one quarter of a pound of sugar, and a tea spoon of salt, beat and put to one quart milk, 5 spoons of flour, cinnamon and nutmeg to your taste, bake half an hour, and serve up with sweet sauce.

The verdict: So I've come to realize that when old--very old--recipes say to bake for a "half an hour" that really means bake for as long as it takes. It took me about an hour and a half for the small ramekins and slightly longer for the larger ones. But the wait was worth it! Flour pudding is good. It's simple enough but warm and yummy. Since I wasn't quite sure what "sweet sauce" consisted of, I used a bit of maple syrup on top which, I felt, was a good choice.

Even if you do not feel like attempting an hours-to-bake pudding like this, I would definitely suggest taking a look at Amelia's cook book, "American Cookery." It has a lot of interesting recipes and the introduction (a lengthy message for orphans, women, and wives) makes this cook book stand out from the rest.

Happy adventuring!

Zabaglione

2009-10-22T18:33:00.000-07:00

Zabaglione, Zabaione, or Sabayon--however you spell it or say it, I'm making it today! Zabaglione is an Italian dessert that consists of a mere three ingredients: wine, sugar, and egg yolks. Although the dessert is much like a custard, it is technically classified as a caudle. Originally, a caudle (as described by Merriam-Webster) was "a drink (as for invalids) usually of warm ale or wine mixed with bread or gruel, eggs, sugar, and spices." Today, caudles are no longer used as a beverage for invalids, but are used as sauces or for filling pies, tarts, and the like. To create your own Zabaglione, use the following recipe:

1 cup white wine
1/2 cup sugar
6 egg yolks

Combine all of the ingredients. Place mixture in a double boiler (or heat resistant bowl) over boiling water. Do not let the bowl touch the water. Continue to mix with a hand mixer until the Zabaglione is thickened to the consistency of whipped cream. Serve alone or as a sauce with berries or cake.

The verdict: Let's hear it for the Italians! This dessert may be simple, but the taste sure isn't. The Zabaglione is light and creamy with a sweet subtle taste of wine. I'll definitely make this again. In fact, I may make this a staple dessert in my kitchen.

Happy adventuring!

Bacon Rolls

2009-10-16T13:32:00.000-07:00

"Almost anything you like can be rolled in bacon, oven or pan-broiled and served on picks."

-The Encyclopedic Cookbook

How could I pass by a recipe that starts with a quote like that? Today I will be making Bacon Rolls, an appetizers fit for the fifties. I followed a recipe like the following:

8 strips of bacon

4 tablespoons of peanut butter

Spread the peanut butter on the strips of bacon. Roll tightly and secure with a toothpick. Broil until crisp.

Eight strips of bacon ready to be spread with peanut butter

Little bacon and peanut butter rolls

The finished product, broiled to a crisp

The verdict: Here's a tip--soak the toothpicks in water before you put them in the broiler! I made a smokey mess of my apartment because I didn't remember to do this. Even so, these appetizers turned out just like I expected. They were really tasty, but--I can't believe I'm saying this--it was just a little too much bacon for me. Because the bacon is rolled up tightly, only the outside gets crispy leaving the inside with a texture more like deli ham, which I don't really like. I appreciate the bacon and peanut butter idea so maybe I will try it again sometime in a sandwich version, which I hear is quite nice.

Happy adventuring!

Ball Cheese III

2009-10-15T15:56:00.000-07:00

Finally, it is complete. After over a month of souring, salting, and ripening, the Ball Cheese is finished. And it's actually pretty good! The taste is a little bit like cheddar with a strong, sharp finish. As the original recipe suggested, I ate the cheese with bread, and documented it here:

The verdict: Although the cheese making process is really interesting to me, I don't think I'll attempt this again until I have a farm of my own--or at least a house. I don't think my little apartment was the best atmosphere for souring milk or ripening cheese. Having said that, I'm really happy that I gave this recipe a try and would suggest it for people with an interest in cheese or cheese making.

Happy adventuring!

A Wedding Cake

2009-10-11T04:23:00.000-07:00

Last year today, my grandparents celebrated their 50th anniversary. As the story goes, my grandfather could only take one day away from the army base, so the wedding was simple and modest--they didn't invite friends or relatives and they didn't have a cake. That's why, 50 years later, we asked our grandparents to go through the motions again (at least with the cake, pictured below). Today, instead of finding a recipe to prepare, I am going to dive into the history of the wedding cake, in honor of my grandparents 51st wedding anniversary!

The tradition associated with wedding cakes has always interested me. It is said that a wedding cake represents luck and fertility--some say the more tiers on the cake, the more luck and fertility in a marriage. But in the past and in other cultures, a tiered wedding cake was not always standard. For example, during the Roman era, loaves of bread were broken over the couples' heads to bring luck to the marriage. In the middle ages, biscuits were brought to the wedding by guests, instead of the symbolic loaf of bread. And in 17th century France, wheat rolls were iced with sugar and stacked upon each other, which was the beginning of what we know as the traditional wedding cake.

I assume that each family has their own traditions associated with weddings and wedding cakes. Some believe that each guest at the wedding must eat the cake, lest they bring bad luck to the new couple and themselves. Furthermore, a single woman may benefit from keeping a bit of the cake under her pillow at night--the superstition states that you will dream of your husband-to-be if you do so. Sound crazy? How about the superstition that the bride should keep some of her wedding cake frozen to ensure that her husband is faithful? Sometimes, whole tiers of the cake were saved in the freezer until the baptism of the first child, when it was consumed in celebration.

Interested in learning more about food superstitions like those about the wedding cake? Check out a book like A Dictionary of Superstitions (Oxford Reference) or the Encyclopedia of Superstitions by Richard Webster.

Happy adventuring, and happy anniversary to my grandparents!

Eggs Stewed with Cheese

2009-10-07T09:04:00.000-07:00

Today I wanted breakfast, plain and simple. So I found a recipe for Eggs Stewed with Cheese in a book called Civil War Recipes: Receipts from the Pages of Godey's Lady's Book. After some research, I learned that Godey's Lady's Book was a popular women's magazine from 1830 to 1898. Although Godey's was an American magazine, it had a international readership. The periodical included 19th century hand-colored fashion plates, fiction pieces, architecture, sewing patterns, poetry, and "receipt" columns, from which this 1864 recipe was taken. Here is the original recipe:

Fry three eggs in a pan with one ounce butter, season with pepper and salt, and when the eggs are just set firm at the bottom of the pan, slip them off onto a dish, cover them all over with some very thin slices of cheese, set the dish before the fire to melt the cheese, and then eat this cheap little tit-bit with some toast.

The verdict: I made a few small changes to the recipe. For instance, I only used two eggs instead of three. Also, I did not have an open fire to lay the eggs next to for melting the cheese, so I used the broiler. But really, how could this recipe go wrong? A perfect egg, topped with melted swiss cheese on top of wheat toast. I will be making this again.

Happy adventuring!

Maryland Mint Phosphate

2009-10-05T07:35:00.000-07:00

Whenever I have visitors in Philadelphia I like to show them the little historic tricks and treats of the city. This past weekend, when my mother and stepfather came to visit, one of those historic treats included a Maryland Mint Phosphate at the Franklin Fountain in Old City. I first learned about the Maryland Mint Phosphate (a retro soda) in a guide book for the city of Philadelphia. At first, I was drawn to the Maryland Mint Phosphate purely because of the name--I am a Baltimore girl, after all--and then, it was the florescent green color of the liquid pictured on the glossy page. So when I visited the Franklin Fountain and noticed that there was no Maryland Mint Phosphate on the menu, my heart sank. "Do you possibly know how to make a Maryland Mint Phosphate?" I asked, hopefully. The girl behind the counter stared at me blankly. Then, to my sheer delight, a young soda jerk by the name of Jeff stepped up and said that he remembered the recipe. Thanks, Jeff!

The Maryland Mint Phosphate (pictured here with a chocolate soda) is a mixture of Creme de Menthe and ginger flavored soda water with a little phosphoric acid for pizzazz.

The verdict: I am not a soda drinker, so the Maryland Mint Phosphate came as a bit of a shock to my system. In fact, the phosphoric acid felt just plain strange going down my throat. Having said that, I can see why people would have fun with these beverages. The Franklin Fountain has a ton of different combinations to make your own soda or you can order pre-designed phosphates like the Japanese Thirst Killer Phosphate, which includes grape juice and Angostura Bitters. If you have a retro soda fountain nearby, maybe you should give it a shot. I know that I'll be going back for more.

Happy adventuring!

Lamb's Wool

2009-10-04T14:56:00.000-07:00

It's time for a drink!

Hot beer seems like it should be on a culinary nightmare list but I couldn't pass by this quaintly-named beverage, Lamb's Wool. Lamb’s Wool is a hot punch that is said to have originated in the Middle Ages in England but maintained popularity through Victorian times. The drink was traditionally served at harvest time or at Christmas as a “wassailing” (caroling) punch. In her book, “Food and Cooking in Victorian England,” Andrea Broomfield describes the popular beverage as enjoyed in the Victorian era:

“Those who retained old-fashioned tastes such as Charles Dickens…enjoyed a wassail punch based on ale or cider that was heated until it formed a foamy, creamy head. Sometimes, the foam was called “lamb’s wool.” While the ale and/or cider were heating, fresh grated nutmeg, ground cinnamon, whole cloves, lemon slices, and finally, hot roasted crabapples were added to the punch” (154).

She goes on to describe that there were several traditions associated with the punch. For example, farmers would make the drink on Christmas Eve and toast to their apple trees, as a way of giving thanks. Another tradition involves the apple tree being “wassailed” by pouring the beverage around the roots of the tree and then bowing and singing around it in order to secure a good harvest the following year.

Today, Lamb’s Wool is not as frequently made, but there are still plenty of recipes floating around if you want to give it a shot and taste a bit of history. Now I will be making a version of Lamb’s Wool to celebrate the harvest that can easily be replicated. If you want to make the drink too, here is a simple recipe to follow:

Gather about four apples, cinnamon, nutmeg, a few whole cloves, ginger, brown sugar, and about six pints of dark ale. Cut the tops off of the apples and bake them at 400 degrees F until soft. Then, scoop out the soft insides and set aside. Warm the ale and the spices (about a half teaspoon or to taste) with about a third cup of brown sugar. Then add the apple pulp to the mixture. Serve in big mugs with a spoon.

Fresh apples, tops removed

Cooked apples!

Mixing beer with spices and sugar

Does this resemble lamb's wool?

The finished beverage

The verdict: I think the most important thing to remember with this recipe is to season to taste--if you want more cinnamon, sugar, or ginger, then add more! This is definitely a cold weather drink. It took me a few seconds to get used to the hot beer taste, but I can understand why people used to make this as a holiday drink. Drinking Lamb's Wool makes me wish that I had an apple tree to "wassail" with this brew!

Happy adventuring!

Indian Pudding

2009-10-01T12:03:00.000-07:00

While researching food articles for inspiration, I came across an article about Indian Pudding. The writer discussed Indian Pudding as a classic popular dessert that fell off the culinary radar which he describes as, "something of an American tragedy." Those are strong words to use to describe a dessert--this stuff must be good! So today I made a traditional Indian Pudding. The first place I looked for a recipe for the pudding was in my Encyclopedic Cookbook, and of course, the nearly 1,000 page cookbook had a traditional Indian Pudding recipe! It is as follows:

1/2 cup corn meal
1 quart milk, scalded
2/3 cup molasses
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups cold milk

Add corn meal slowly to hot milk, stirring constantly until thick. Add molasses and salt. Pour into greased baking dish and add cold milk. Bake in slow oven (325F.) 3 hours. Serve hot with hard sauce, ice cream or plain cream. Serves 6

Once again, I began my culinary journey, stumbling through a recipe that I felt could be more detailed. First, I scalded the milk. I learned that to scald milk you must heat the milk until little bubbles form around the sides without letting it boil. Then, I added the cornmeal to the mixture--which became lumpy--and I stirred like a madwoman until the milk began to thicken. As I was stirring, I realized that I didn't know how thick "thick" should be. I wondered if women in the 1950's (when this book started circulating) knew the precise thickness of a proper Indian Pudding. Probably.

My lumpy milk and cornmeal mixture

A beautiful measure of molasses

Molasses being mixed into the pudding

Topping the pudding with cold milk before putting it in the oven for three hours

The finished product, topped with cream

Inside the Indian Pudding!

The verdict: This stuff is good. While it isn't the most beautiful dessert on Earth, it is truly American. I cannot understand why it has disappeared from the table--especially at Thanksgiving, when it was most popular. I'm going to make it my goal to bring this one back onto the table and into the mouths of Americans everywhere!

Happy adventuring!

Burnt Sugar Dumplings

2009-09-29T18:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight I am making a recipe from The Encyclopedic Cookbook from the Culinary Arts Institute, published in 1949. The story behind this book is that it was the only cookbook that my maternal grandparents used. How is this possible, you ask? Well, the book is over 950 pages long--one hardly needs another! Of course, today these recipes seem a bit dated. For example, not many dinner tables are graced with a molded chicken aspic. (An aspic, if you are wondering, is a transparent jelly made from the juices of meat or meat stock that has been firmed with gelatin.) In fact, not many dishes are served in a mold at all--what a shame. In lieu of going to a kitchen store and finding an amazing mold to use for one of these retro recipes, I decided to make something that also caught my eye: Burnt Sugar Dumplings. The recipe from The Encyclopedic Cookbook follows:

SIRUP
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 tablespoons butter
1/8 teaspoon salt
2 cups hot water
DUMPLINGS
1 1/2 cups sifted flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup chopped walnut meats
3/4 cup milk

Heat 1/2 cup sugar in skillet until it melts to a golden brown sirup. Add butter, salt, and remaining sugar. Add hot water gradually, stirring constantly. Heat to boiling and cook until sugar is dissolved about 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Sift flour, baking powder,m sugar and salt together. Cut in butter with pastry blender. Add walnuts; stir in milk all at once, mixing only enough to moisten flour. Drop by tablespoons into gently boiling caramel sauce. Cover tightly and simmer gently 12 to 15 minutes without removing cover. Serve at once with sauce, for 6

Bubbling, browned sugar with two tablespoons of butter added.

Moistened flour mixture with added walnuts.

The first dumplings added to the mixture!

A close-up of the cooking dumplings.

The final product!

The verdict: These are great! I am so pleased that I decided to make Burnt Sugar Dumplings. This recipe is all about timing--making sure that the sugar mixture is being stirred constantly while you simultaneously cut butter into the flour mixture. It would be helpful to have two sets of hands for this one but even if you can't find a friend to help out, these dumplings are worth a try. The flavor is fantastic and it's always fun to try something new.

Happy adventuring!

Mocha Mallow Mist

2009-09-27T20:42:00.000-07:00

In the good ol' days, every Thursday The Evening Sun (of The Baltimore Sun newspapers) printed recipes and articles about cooking. One of the food columnists for The Sun, Virginia Roeder, a 1953 Johns Hopkins University "graduate home economist" compiled a bunch of the most successful recipes and created a mini-cookbook which was then distributed to the newspaper's loyal readers. The book, titled "Fun With Food: A Cook Book Designed Especially for the Busy Maryland Housewife by The Evening Sun" found its way into my hands, and blew me away with its now-retro dishes, drinks, and desserts.

The first recipe to catch my eye was entitled, Mocha Mallow Mist--I'm a sucker for alliteration. Mocha Mallow Mist, you say? What exactly is a "mist" in culinary terms. I don't think Julia Child covered that one... Let's follow the recipe to find out:

24 marshmallows, cut in quarters
1 cup strong coffee
1 cup heavy cream, whipped

Melt marshmallows in coffee. Cool. Fold whipped cream into coffee mixture. Pour into sherbet glasses and top with chopped pecans or chocolate curls.

Seems easy enough, so here we go!

The verdict: Yes, yes, yes! This dessert is delicious. It's extremely rich, but very tasty and quite simple. There is something to be said about the "busy Maryland housewife" and her ability to make a delicious dessert in a pinch. Although I am not used to heavy cream and marshmallows as staple ingredients in the kitchen, this will definitely be a repeat recipe. Give it a try!

Happy adventuring!

Ball Cheese II

2009-09-24T08:11:00.000-07:00

In my very first blog post I began to attempt making the Pennsylvania Dutch recipe "Ball Cheese." This proved to be quite a journey and I learned a few very important things along the way. The first and most important piece of information is that in order to make cheese you must use RAW milk, not the pasteurized and homogenized stuff you find in the regular grocery store. The first gallon I used to make Ball Cheese was pasteurized and, after a phone call from my mother and a panicked "OH, don't do that!" I learned that the bacteria needed to turn the milk into cheese was killed off in the pasteurization process. This sent me to Reading Terminal Market where I picked up a gallon of raw milk and began the cheese again. This time, the milk was entirely different. It began to spoil almost immediately, but it did not give off the terrible smell that the first gallon did. The milk became thick and creamy, and eventually separated into what is known as the curds and whey (Little Miss Muffet, anyone?).

After the milk thoroughly thickened, I poured the chunky mixture into a bowl lined with doubled cheese cloth.

Then, I separated the curds from the whey!

It took several hours for the water to drain from the cheese, so I let the cheese cloth hang over the sink until the drips stopped. Then, I spooned the cheese mixture onto a ceramic plate (as the recipe specified) and set it to rest for three days.

The next step will be to prepare the cheese for "ripening" which involves a coat of baking soda and a ceramic crock. Look forward to my third Ball Cheese post in about fourteen days!

Happy adventuring!

Rice Waffles

2009-09-22T17:47:00.000-07:00

Today I decided to make Rice Waffles. I found the recipe in a cookbook called Fine Old Dixie Recipes which was published in 1936. Since I had never tasted (or heard of) Rice Waffles, I decided to give them a shot. The recipe is as follows:

This recipe (like most of the recipes that I attempt) was not very detailed, so I had to assume several things about the directions. For example, I did not know if the cooked rice should be cooled before adding it to the egg yolk mixture. Furthermore, the term "well-beaten" as applied to the egg whites could have been a little more specific--scrambled or stiff peaks? So I improvised.

First, I mixed the ingredients as described. I decided to cool the rice before I added it to the egg yolks so that I didn't end up with scramblers.

Then, I mixed in the egg whites, which I beat with a fork. Afterwards, the mixture was still very dry, so I added a few splashes of milk until I could spread the rice-specked dough across the heated waffle iron.

The waffle iron did the rest of the work, until I removed the cooked Rice Waffles and let them cool slightly.

The verdict: Since I had never eaten Rice Waffles before, I didn't know what to expect. I very much wanted these to be light and fluffy, but instead they were a bit tough. I think that if I beat the egg whites more (to form soft peaks) and then folded them in softly, that would make the waffles a bit lighter. The density of the waffles and the crunch of the rice made me want to top the waffles with butter more than syrup, making it serve more like a bread than a breakfast. I may attempt this recipe again, remembering to beat the egg whites more before adding them to the mixture.

Happy adventuring!

SPAMCAKES

2009-09-21T08:40:00.000-07:00

Admit it, SPAM is strange. Even so, SPAM has become somewhat of an American institution since its debut in 1937. During World War II more than 100 million pounds of the canned ham product were shipped to allied troops overseas. By 1959, one billion cans of SPAM were produced and that number doubled to two billion by 1970, the same year that Monty Python’s Flying Circus (with its unforgettable SPAM sketch) debuted on television.

Today, over 7 billion cans of SPAM have been produced, with new varieties like “light SPAM” and “less-sodium SPAM” for those of us who are the slightest bit health-conscious. And, although most people tend to think of SPAM as a comical retro culinary oddity, today I will be eating it for breakfast. This is my very first SPAM experience! The recipe I will be using is straight from the source: www.spam.com, run by Hormel Foods.

The recipe is as follows:

1 1/2 cups pancake mix

1 cup milk

1 egg

1 tablespoon oil

1 can (7oz) SPAM® Classic, finely chopped

In bowl, combine pancake mix, milk, egg, and oil

Stir in chopped SPAM® Classic

Using 1/3 cup for each pancake, pour batter on greased griddle

Bake until browned on bottom

Turn and brown other side

Serve with syrup or honey

The verdict: SPAM is not the world's scariest food, but it is quite strange. Upon opening the can, I was met with an odor that I could only describe as canned dog food. And the gelatinous goop surrounding the meat was less than desirable. Having said that, SPAMCAKES were actually pretty good (I can just hear the gasps from my mother now) but I do not think that I would make them again. The taste was like a salty pancakes with moments of mushy meat, but the syrup created a nice little breakfast treat. If I were to make this again, I would only use half of the can of SPAM instead of the whole chunk. That way, it would be a little more pancake and a little less ham.

Happy adventuring!

Chocolate Oddities

2009-09-17T19:35:00.000-07:00

In 1892, Reading Terminal Market opened its doors to the city of Philadelphia. Since then, the market has been through many changes but still flourishes today. More than 80 vendors sell their goods at Reading Terminal Market everyday, whether it be free range chicken, local honey, or handmade soap. The market is an exciting, eccentric blend of culinary and artistic delights.

A few weeks ago, while I was walking up and down the aisles of fresh fruit and flowers in the market, I stumbled upon a candy shop selling blog-worthy goods. What first drew me to the candy stand (besides the overwhelming aroma of sugar) was the display of chocolate ears and noses behind glass. Then, as I walked further, I came to "chocolate lab rats." And finally--my personal favorite--chocolate dipped onions. I had to share my findings:

The next time you are in Philadelphia, make a stop at Reading Terminal Market. Not only is it a part of the city's history, the market boasts an array of delicious (and different!) foods and products. If you don't feel comfortable nibbling on a chocolate ear or if you aren't ready to take a chomp out of a chocolate-dipped onion, there are plenty of other mysteries to uncover.

Happy adventuring!

Currant Jelly Tartlets

2009-09-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

In modern recipe books it is rare that you will find instruction on how “To Clean Old Oil Paintings” under a pork recipe, but in the Household Book for Practical Receipts by Mrs. George W M Reynolds, that is exactly what you will find. Recipe #224 is for chocolate cream and recipe #225 is for “Dr. Birt Davies’ Gout Mixture.” Recipe #487 is to “Pickle Cheeks of Bacon” and #488 is for “Were’s Eye Lotion.” Recipe #871 is called “Lemon Cream for the Sun burn or Freckles” and #872 is for Currant Jelly Tartlets, which brings me to my next culinary adventure.

Today I will be making Currant Jelly Tartlets. The original recipe reads:

Put four tablespoonsfuls of the best currant jelly into a basin, and stir to it gradually twelve spoonfuls of beaten egg ; if the preserve be rich and sweet, no sugar will be required. Line some pans with paste rolled very thin, fill them with the custard, and bake them about ten minutes.

I found this recipe a bit tricky because lining “some pans” with “paste rolled very thin” meant pretty much nothing to me. Some pans? Cake pans? Brownie pans? Four tablespoons of currant jelly is not going to spread across an 8x10 pan. And what exactly is paste? With a little research I found that “paste” is really just piecrust. A simple sweet paste can be made from flour, sugar, butter, and eggs. All ingredients are mixed together to form a stiff paste, thus the name! The following recipe for paste is from “Soyer's Standard Cookery” (1912):

Sweet Paste For Tartlets

Ingredients. - Two pounds of fine flour, sixteen ounces of castor sugar, ten ounces of butter, six eggs, the finely-grated rind of lemon.

Method. - Sift the flour into a bowl, make a hole in the center, put in the sugar, butter and eggs, and mix the whole into a stiff paste. Roll and use as required.

Now that we have more information, we can move on to the Currant Jelly Tartlets. For the tartlets, I decided to use a 6-cup cupcake pan. I cut rounds from the sweet paste using a martini glass to form perfect circles.

Then, I lined the cupcake pan with the cut-outs, pressing the middle of each round into the bottom of the pan.

Next, I mixed the beaten egg into the currant jelly.

Then, I poured the currant jelly mixture into the middle of the paste rounds.

I baked the tartlets in an oven at 350 F for ten minutes, like the recipe said, but they were not nearly done by that point so I watched them until the egg mixture became firm and then removed them from the oven.

The verdict: They aren't the most beautiful tartlets in the world, but they sure are tasty! (I might suggest a little of the currant jelly on top for some more flavor and sweetness.) If I were to make this again, I would use a smaller cup cupcake pan (possibly a 12 or 24 cup pan) which would spread the mixture more thinly and enable the custard to cook more quickly.

Happy adventuring!

Scrapple

2009-09-13T20:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I came across a recipe book in my grandmother’s kitchen called Old Pennsylvania Dutch Cook Book (1936). Some of the recipes inspired me to write about food that I cannot, and will not ever cook or eat. The first of these foods is scrapple, also known as ponhaws.

I have never tasted scrapple, but I have seen in on a plate many times. Usually, it is offered in the same sentence as bacon and sausage when you order a stack of pancakes at a diner. ("You want bacon, sausage, or scrapple with that?") What is scrapple, I always wondered. I knew it was some sort of meat product, but the grey color and grainy texture confused me to a point of disinterest. Even so, after stumbling upon a traditional recipe for the mystery meat I couldn't help but share my findings. Here, I will demystify scrapple:

So now I know, and now you know. Scrapple is mystery meat no more. Still, there is something about scraping the inside of a freshly halved hog's head that just doesn't sit well with me. Having said that, I suppose if you are going to kill the animal then it is best to use all of it, right? I know that there is no room for a hog's head in my kitchen but I'm sure there are people out there that would find this recipe intriguing. Any takers?

Happy adventuring!

Rambutan

2009-09-11T06:34:00.000-07:00

Here’s a little edible strangeling that needs no recipe: rambutan. Closely related to lychee fruit, rambutan is a red or yellow fruit with a bristly skin and sweet flesh. Rambutan is said to have originated in Southeast Asia and its name translates to mean “hairy” which describes its shell. If you want to taste a rambutan for yourself, try an Asian market nearby. Or, if you have no luck with the markets, you can order the tropical fruit online at a place like www.exoticfruitmarket.com.

To eat a rambutan, split the shell in half and pull it away from the flesh. The inside will look something like a peeled grape, which holds a large seed in the middle.

Happy adventuring!

Cracker Soup

2009-09-11T06:26:00.000-07:00

I awoke this morning ready to dive into the next recipe. Unfortunately, when I passed the gallon of spoiling milk on my counter that will later be used to make the Ball Cheese I spoke of in my first post, I started to feel a bit queezy. Given my slight upset stomach, I thought it the perfect time to prepare Cracker Soup, a dish that I had heard about but never tried. Today I will be using a recipe from the Inglenook Cook Book (1907) that has a specific recipe section for the sick. In addition to Cracker Soup, it seems that Sour Cream Soup, Corn Meal Tea, and Barely Water (for fever) were also prepared for those with ailments. Although I am excited to experiment with Cracker Soup, I am slightly skeptical of the source, which states that Eggnog is also a good treatment for the ill. The book says that Eggnog is “a pleasant and nourishing food for invalids.” We’ll see about that at Christmas time. Now on to the soup! The original recipe is as follows:

Place a dozen crackers in a bowl, grate a little nutmeg over them, add 1 teaspoonful of butter and 1 tablespoonful of granulated sugar. Pour over boiling water enough to cover the crackers; cover and let steam a few minutes. Serve hot.

The verdict: Cracker Soup is not your typical breakfast. Mixing the water with the crackers creates a gloppy, slippery mess. Having said that, the butter, sugar, and nutmeg make it taste pretty good! So if you can get past the texture of the first few bites, the end result is kind of nice!

Happy adventuring!

Peking Duck

2009-09-10T06:44:00.000-07:00

When I began this foodie adventure, I dreamed of discovering all of the culinary oddities and strange food that the world had to offer. But I realize that “strange” is a relative term. For some people, “Ball Cheese” as prepared by the Pennsylvania Dutch, may seem like a normal addition to the plate. For others, the name may be a deterrent in itself. Let me say, for the record, that I love food and I love discovering the food of other cultures, especially those that strike me as strange or intriguing. This brings me to my next discussion: Peking Duck.

Let’s spin the globe for a minute or two and visit China. Having traveled to the country twice, I can say with certainty that it is a place full of culinary delights—some strange and some delicious. One of my favorite meals to have in China comes from the city of Beijing and has become somewhat popular in the United States too. Peking Duck (also called Beijing Duck) has been prepared for centuries and remains somewhat of a culinary secret possessed only by the most experienced Chinese chefs. I do know that the preparation is extremely labor-intensive and very time consuming. It involves a duck that is fully deplumed, but with head and feet intact. The chef makes a small incision by the duck’s neck and inflates the skin so that it separates from the meat—not a meal for the faint of heart, or for animal rights activists for that matter. After the duck is inflated, the feet are cut off at the ankles. Then, the duck is hung with a special loop and is basted with boiling water and a mixture of different ingredients (usually honey dissolved in water) and then dried in an oven for around four hours.

A bunch of ducks hang to dry before being prepared in the traditional Peking style in Beijing, China.

It is said that Peking Duck originates from the Ming Dynasty. It is during this time that the strict specifications for preparing the duck probably evolved. For example, Peking Duck should be prepared from a duck that is exactly 65 days old. Furthermore, it can weigh no less than four pounds. Today, in restaurants across the county and in Beijing, eating Peking Duck is a ceremonial process. The duck is presented whole next to the table, then it is sliced methodically into little thin pieces, which are placed on a plate. The duck is served with thin pancakes, scallions, and hoisin sauce. It’s definitely a meal that one should try at an authentic Chinese restaurant, seeing as preparing it correctly seems near impossible, but if you want to attempt this delightful dish at home, here is a link to a video that teaches a simple version of the recipe:

How to make Peking Duck

Happy adventuring!

Ball Cheese

2009-09-09T11:49:00.001-07:00

I have many passions. One of them is food.

Today I begin my journey through the culinary mysteries of America (and beyond) with a recipe from the Pennsylvania Dutch called “Ball Cheese.” That’s right, “Ball Cheese.” I have a particular affinity for the Pennsylvania Dutch because a sizeable portion of my heritage can be traced from Germany to Pennsylvania. A common misconception about the Pennsylvania Dutch is that they are originally from the Netherlands or Holland (thus the term “Dutch”) but in fact, they are originally from Germany. The word “Deutsch,” meaning German, became “Dutch” by way of the English language in America.

While researching interesting and strange preparations of food, I came across a recipe for “Ball Cheese” in the “Pennsylvania Dutch Cook Book” by J. George Frederick. The recipe calls for one gallon of sour, thick milk, and takes over two weeks to prepare, so I will leave the recipe here while I work on these little beauties and report back in a couple weeks:

Ball Cheese, Millersville

1 gallon sour, thick milk

Let the milk get thoroughly thick and sour, then put into a cheesecloth bag and let the water drain from it. When drained salt it to taste. Form it into flat round balls about 3 inches in diameter, and lay upon china platters for three days. Then roll the balls in baking soda and wrap in paper. Place the balls in an earthen or glass crock and let ripen for two weeks. Then take them out and rinse in water to remove soda, scraping the balls with a knife. They are then ready to serve, to eat. They are good with rye bread.

A gallon of milk, souring on my tabletop!

Happy adventuring!