Ball Cheese III

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!