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February 15, 2025 Cakes & Cookies

Sugar Cookies (1877)

These soft and squishy sugar cookies are delectably addictive! Made with sour cream, they look and taste like a viral 1970’s recipe our grandmothers all copied from each other’s recipe boxes…but they’re pure 1800’s goodness.

sugar cookies from 1800's recipe with old cook book — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

For an easy little recipe, I really tinkered with this one!

It’s from a delightful 1877 cook book that was published in Toronto, and an interesting thing about this volume is that it has a bigger selection of cake and cookie recipes than most of my other cook books from the era, perhaps with the exception of The White House Cook Book. (Lots of rich cookery in that one too!)

This was one of those recipes that leaves the amount of flour up to the intuition of the baker, and for temperature says simply to “bake quick”, so it left room for interpretation, and was fun to experiment with.

The result is a very light, slightly cake-y cookie, with a beautiful crinkly top. These are reminiscent of the “light tea cakes” that were still so popular, and which were generally rolled and cut into circles, rather than baked in pans. It’s also a great recipe to share with a crowd–this makes about 6.5 dozen 2″ cookies!

1800's recipe for sugar cookies — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

1877 recipe for sugar cookies in an old cookbook — From The Home Cook Book, 1877. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Let’s talk about sour cream

At the time this cook book was published, they of course weren’t buying pasteurized sour cream in tubs like we do now. This would have been “clabbered cream”, or cream that had just begun to turn pleasantly sour. (Gil Marks, the beloved food historian, has a great section about 1800’s sour cream halfway through this article on the history of coffee cake, which he wrote before he passed away.)

Raw cream goes through a whole different magic when it “turns”, as opposed to pasteurized cream, which would get extremely unpleasant if left on the counter for several days. The White House Cook Book (1887) offers some tips about using sour milk or cream in baking, and instructs that it’s “always best when just turned, so that it is solid, and not sour enough to whey or to be watery.” (If you’ve ever accidentally let raw sour cream get away from you and go too long, you’ll know exactly what this passage means.)

Making this cookie recipe today, I did use commercially available sour cream. I’ve baked quite a bit with homemade raw sour cream in the past, and while it does very slightly change the flavor profile (depending on how sour your cream is), the texture and taste in the finished baked goods are remarkably similar.

If you’d like to be as historic as possible about this, and want to make your own, I find the best consistency for raw sour cream comes from the cream that’s skimmed off fresh whole milk which has been allowed to sit undisturbed for 2-3 days. This gives a much thicker end product than cream skimmed from today’s milking.

If you’d like to make your own cultured sour cream from pasteurized milk, you can do that too, but you’ll need a starter (you can get it here), since pasteurized cream has no beneficial bacteria to steer the fermentation process.

sugar cookies made from an 1877 recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How much flour to use?

This recipe leaves the amount of flour up to the intuition of the baker, as many recipes at the time did. In fact, you probably notice that the word “flour” isn’t even mentioned.

This wasn’t unusual for recipes of the mid-1800s, and phrases like “mix to roll, mix just enough to roll, flour enough to roll, or mix stiff enough to roll” were common ways of instructing the baker to add flour until the batter or dough was the right consistency, usually as the final step after all other ingredients had been incorporated.

I tinkered quite a bit with this, and found that 2 and ⅔ cups unbleached flour was the amount that made it possible to roll this dough and cut it out, without it ending up dense and cake-y.

sugar cookies made from an 1800's recipe

Oven temperature

The recipe tells us to “bake quick”, which really could be anything from about 375°F to 425°. So I tried that entire range of temperatures. I found that 375° really worked best for this recipe, since 400° made the bottoms of the cookies a bit too brown, by the time the tops were set. 425° is right out.

How thick to roll the dough

Of course, as with all of these variables, there’s room for personal preference here. After a bit of experimenting, I found that rolling the dough ¼″ thick gave me the results I enjoyed the most.

sugar cookie dough with antique cutter — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Cookie size

This is a fun time to get out the cookie cutter stash and have at it! Circles and diamonds were the most frequent “every day” shapes for cookies, but there’s no reason you can’t have fun with this. Keep in mind that these are a puffy cookie, so simple shapes work best.

I used an antique circle cutter from my grandmother, which is 1.5″ in diameter. At 375° for 8 minutes, that gave me perfectly-done, 2″ round cookies.

A nice thing about this size is that they fit beautifully in a 4″ square bakers box, in sets of 12 or 16…perfect for gifting. (Fun note, I actually came across a tutorial for making “paper boxes” for baked goods in an 1880’s cookbook the other day. You can let me know in the poll below if this is something you’d enjoy seeing in the newsletter.)

sugar cookies from an 1800's recipe, with a bakery box — So giftable. A dozen 2″ cookies fits perfectly in a 4″ bakery box. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How long to bake these

I found that 8 minutes at 375 F cooked my 1.5″ diameter cookies to perfection. If you wanted to use a larger cookie cutter, you’ll want play this by ear and just keep a close eye on them. These are done when the centers are set, and the edges just barely beginning to be golden.

A always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Sugar Cookies (1877)

These soft and squishy sugar cookies are just delectable. Made with sour cream, they look and taste like a viral 1970's recipe our grandmothers all copies from each other's recipe boxes…but they're pure 1800's goodness!

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Prep Time: 15

Cook Time: 8

Servings: cookies

Calories: 56kcal

Ingredients

1 ½ cups sugar
1 cup butter
2 eggs
½ cup sour cream
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 ⅔ cups all purpose flour

Instructions

Mix just so that you can roll it out;
then sprinkle with sugar just before putting in oven;
bake quick.

Notes

MODERN INSTRUCTION NOTES

Preheat oven to 375 F.
Mix all ingredients gently, until thoroughly mixed.
Roll dough on a floured counter, ¼″ thick.
Cut with a 1.5″ round cutter for same results as what you see here. OR, enjoy using your own cookie cutters, and adjust baking time as needed.
Sprinkle cookies generously with sugar.
Bake 8 minutes, or until centers are set, and edges are just turning golden.

Nutrition

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

February 14, 2025 Drinks

Blackberry Cordial (1871)

This delicious alcoholic remedy is worth getting sick for! Made with sweetened fresh blackberry juice, spices, and brandy, it’s worth making just as a special treat.

a bottle of blackberry cordial — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Do you remember the passage in Anne of Green Gables, where the girls are allowed to enjoy some raspberry cordial for a special treat, but Anne accidentally serves Diana currant wine instead, with regrettable results?

Gosh I love that book. Well, ever since reading it as a child, I’ve wanted to try raspberry cordial. It sounds so delicious!

This year I was going to give it a go, but the birds beat me to the end of the raspberry harvest during a long rainy spell. SO, with the blackberry harvest coming along beautifully, I decided to look through my cookbooks for a blackberry cordial recipe instead.

Marion Harland’s Common Sense in the Household (copyright 1871), has a lovely one, so that’s what I’m sharing here today.

Making this definitely gave me a whole new perspective on that passage, I’ll tell you! I cannot imagine the state I’d be in, if I attempted to down three tumblerfuls of this stuff. It’s sweet, goes down SO easy, and is generously alcoholic. In moderation, it’s delectable.

Hope you enjoy!

Blackberry Cordial

1 quart of blackberry juice
1 lb. white sugar.
½ oz. grated nutmeg.
½ oz. powdered cinnamon.
¼ oz. allspice.
¼ oz. cloves.
1 pint best brandy.

Tie the spices in thin muslin bags; boil juice, sugar, and spices together fifteen minutes, skimming well; add the brandy; set aside in a closely covered vessel to cool. When perfectly cold, strain out the spices, and bottle, sealing the corks.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

An 1871 Recipe for blackberry cordial — From Common Sense in the Household, by Marian Harland, page 496. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

This recipe is really easy and straightforward, so not many cooking notes for this one!

Getting that blackberry juice

I spent longer than I want to admit, looking through every 1800’s cookbook in my collection, hunting for a clear how-to on extracting juice from blackberries. When I’m making these recipes, I like to adhere as closely as possible to the methods employed at the time, as well as ingredients. (See that time I made mayonnaise by hand!)

My takeaway from this search was to conclude that getting juice from berries was such a no-brainer at the time, that it required no special instruction. What I ended up doing was following the instructions in the Ball Blue Book canning guide, for making blackberry juice to can.

I lightly simmered the berries until they were well broken up and juicy, then squeezed them through a muslin bag to extract the juice. This worked well, and it’s definitely how I’d go about this again.

straining blackberry juice through a cloth bag — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Those muslin bags

I happened to have some unbleached muslin on hand, and was easily able to tie up the spices in it. If you don’t happen to have unbleached muslin on hand, I really believe a double layer of finely woven cheesecloth would work just fine.

spices for making blackberry cordial — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

“Best” brandy

Ok, in this regard I may have skimped a bit. At my local shop, bottles of brandy ranged from embarrassingly cheap artificially flavored stuff that would have mortified any 1800’s housekeeper, all the way up to make-you-blush expensive.

I’m on a tight budget, so opted for something respectably in the middle. To my untrained tastebuds, the result was indulgently delicious, and worked well.

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Blackberry Cordial (1871)

This delicious alcoholic remedy is worth getting sick for! Made with sweetened fresh blackberry juice, spices, and brandy, it's worth making just as a special treat. From Common Sense in the Household, by Marian Harland, 1871

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Ingredients

1 qt blackberry juice
1 lb white sugar
½ oz grated nutmeg
½ oz powdered cinnamon
¼ oz allspice
¼ oz cloves
1 pint best brandy

Instructions

Tie the spices in this muslin bags;
boil juice, sugar, and spices together fifteen minutes, skimming well;
add the brandy;
set aside in a closely covered vessel to cool.
When perfectly cold, strain out the spices, and bottle, sealing the corks.

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

a bottle of blackberry cordial from an 1871 recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

February 13, 2025 Cakes & Cookies

Clove Cake (1877)

This Clove Cake recipe from 1877 is one that I consider a “must-try”. Of all the recipes I’ve made during this project, this not-too-sweet, perfectly spiced cake is a favorite!

A slice of clove cake from an 1877 recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

With so very many recipes in these old cook books, just waiting to be tried, I tend to make most of the recipes you see featured here just once or twice. The next time I want to make something similar, I try a different recipe, from a different cook book.

Sometimes though, I make a recipe that stops me in my tracks, and I know it’s about to become a new family favorite–one I’ll make again and again.

This clove cake recipe is one of those. It’s not just memorably tasty (which it is!), it’s simple and easy. This is the recipe you reach for when you’ve got company arriving in two hours, want something delicious and homemade that you can whip up at the last minute, but also still have to vacuum and clean the bathroom before they arrive.

A neat thing about this particular recipe, is that it was specially marked by some previous owner of this dear old 1877 volume. Somebody made this recipe for people she loved, marked up the amount of cloves to make it better suit their taste (a good move!), and made it again. Judging from the splatters on this particular page, I’m betting this may have been one of her go-to family favorites.

I wish I knew her name, or a little something about her. There’s no inscription on the flyleaf. Whoever she was, I hope her family shared many happy moments over slices of this delicious cake, and I’ll think of her whenever I make it for mine…with one teaspoon of cloves, not three.

~ Anna

a loaf of clove cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

CLOVE CAKE

Two eggs, one and one-half cups of sugar, one cup of butter, once cup of chopped raisins, one-half cup of sweet milk, two cups of flour, one ~~tablespoon~~ teaspoon of cloves, one-half teaspoon of soda.
The Home Cook Book, 1877

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

An 1877 recipe for Clove Cake — From The Home Cook Book, 1877, page 336. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

First off, I just want to make sure you notice that lovely historic cooking note that was made right in this old volume. Was she right about the change in spice? Absolutely.

I made this using her measurement of 1 teaspoon instead of 1 tablespoon, and everyone who tasted the finished cake agreed that the level of spice was perfect. Three times that amount of cloves would have been way too much.

a slice of clove cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What kind of pan to use?

I really need to expand my collection of antique baking tins. Square, round, and loaf pans were all common to use for a cake like this.

The pan I used was a long 12″x4″ loaf pan, and it came out beautifully. An 8″ square pan would work well too, or a round pan with center hole if you have one.

If you don’t mind a bit of a baking anachronism, this would also be lovely made in a bundt pan…a form that wouldn’t be introduced to most American kitchens until the 1950’s.

raisins being chopped on a cutting board — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Chopping those raisins

Don’t skip it. Chopping raisins isn’t common in modern cookery, but those little bits of raisin well dispersed throughout the cake are really just perfect. I aimed for chopping them into halves.

This particular cook book doesn’t specify flouring the raisins, but many cook books of the era instruct people to toss their raisins with some of the flour, before putting into the batter, so they’ll stay well dispersed rather than sinking toward the bottom of the cake.

I always do this now, because it really does make a difference. When making this cake, I reserved ¼ cup of the flour, added it to a bowl with the chopped raisins, and tossed them well until they were coated, before adding it all to the cake batter.

spreading batter for clove cake in a baking pan — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Should you grease the pan?

Absolutely! In the 1800’s, it wasn’t common to include instructions on greasing pans, or even baking temperature, along with every single recipe, the way these things are noted in modern cook books.

You’ll want to grease the pan well (butter or lard would be the right choice, if you want to be authentic.) Then dredge the well-greased pan lightly with flour.

mixing the batter for clove cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.com

Oven Temperature

In the cake making notes from this cook book, it specifies that “the oven should be pretty hot for small cakes, and moderate for larger”. Small cakes would be smaller than this one–more like little tea cakes. This recipe also wasn’t what I’d call large though, like some of the cakes that are made for feeding a crowd.

I went with 350°F for making this, and it’s what I use again. I felt the cake cooked nicely through, without being dry on the outside before the inside was well baked. The crumb was nicely tender, and delicate without being dry.

How long to bake this?

In my 12″x4″ loaf pan, at 350°F, this cake took exactly 1 hour to bake perfectly. The top and edges were golden brown, and the center was well set.

If you use a differently shaped pan, your cake may take a bit more or less time than mine. Check for golden edges and a center that’s fully set. The correct 1800’s way to check for doneness is by inserting a broom straw into the center of the cake. If it comes out clean, the cake is done, if bits of batter adhere to it, the cake needs a little more time. Feel free to use a toothpick, if you don’t keep clean broom straws handy!

What about icing?

Here’s the general icing recipe from this cookbook:

An 1800's recipe for cake icing — The Home Cook Book, 1877. Page 296. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

This is the icing I’ll use next time. Because I really did have company on the way as I was making this, I opted for a quick powdered sugar and water icing, from another cook book of the era. It was delicious and worked well, but this recipe above, with egg whites, would have probably been a more common choice for this cake, if the baker had time.

a loaf of clove cake with icing — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife

I shared the remnants of this cake at my daughter’s soccer game the next night, and everyone loved it. One dad mentioned that he doesn’t usually enjoy cake because it’s always so sweet, but this was just right.

It’s definitely a keeper of a recipe, and if you try it, I’d love to hear your thoughts as well!

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Clove Cake (1877)

This Clove Cake recipe from 1877 is one that I consider a "must-try". Of all the recipes I've made during this project, this not-too-sweet, perfectly spiced cake is a favorite!

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Prep Time: 10

Cook Time: 1

Servings:

Ingredients

2 eggs
1 ½ cups sugar
1 cup butter
1 cup raisins, chopped
½ cup milk
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon cloves
½ teaspoon soda

Notes

MODERN COOKING NOTES:

Preheat oven to 350.

Beat together sugar and butter until light. Add eggs and milk, stir until well incorporated. Reserve ¼ cup of flour. Sift remaining flour, cloves, and soda, into batter, and stir well until thoroughly mixed.

Toss chopped raisins with reserved ¼ cup of flour, and dump the floured raisins into the batter. Stir just until evenly distributed.

Spoon batter into a well greased and floured pan. Bake until cake edges are golden brown, center is set, and a broom straw (or toothpick) comes out clean–about 1 hour depending on pan(s) used.

Cool thoroughly, then frost or glaze if desired.

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

December 23, 2024 Desserts

Christmas Plum Pudding (1887)

There’s nothing like an old-fashioned Christmas plum pudding, and making one is easier than you might think!

an old-fashioned plum pudding surrounded by holly — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Can you believe tomorrow is Christmas Eve? It always feels a little surreal how quickly that sneaks up.

Today’s recipe is an old-fashioned plum pudding, another recipe from The White House Cook Book. It’s been years since I’ve made a proper boiled pudding, and after how well this turned out, it has me wondering why I don’t make puddings more often. Maybe it’s that 4 hours of boil time!

If you can get your hands on the ingredients, it’s definitely not too late to whip up this Christmas classic. It’s not as fussy a recipe as it sounds, and once the pudding is boiling away in the mold, the whole process is pretty hands free.

Forgive me if today’s email feels a bit rushed–it is. My heater and water tank both decided to die at the same time, so it’s a bit like camping over here. Thank goodness for the wood stove!

~ Anna

a plum pudding — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

CHRISTMAS PLUM-PUDDING. (By Measure.)

One cupful of finely chopped beef suet, two cupfuls of fine bread-crumbs, one heaping cupful of sugar, one cupful of seeded raisins, one cupful of well-washed currants, one cupful of chopped blanched almonds, half a cupful of citron, sliced thin, a teaspoonful of salt, one of cloves, two of cinnamon, half a grated nutmeg, and four well-beaten eggs. Dissolve a level teaspoonful of soda in a tablespoonful of warm water.
Flour the fruit thoroughly from a pint of flour; then mix the remainder as follows: In a large bowl put the well-beaten eggs, sugar, spices, and salt in one cupful of milk. Stir in the fruit, chopped nuts, breadcrumbs, and suet, one after the other, until all are used, putting in the dissolved soda last, and adding enough flour to make the fruit stick together, which will take all the pint. Boil or steam four hours. Serve with wine or brandy or any well-flavored sauce.
The White House Cook Book, 1887

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

an 1800's plum pudding recipe — From The White House Cook Book, 1887. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Don’t let yourself be intimidated by those directions. This recipe is honestly very easy to make successfully. Here are a few cooking notes that come to mind having just made this. If you have additional questions, don’t hesitate to reply to this email and ask away!

Sourcing raw suet

If you’re lucky enough to have a good butcher shop nearby, that’s the first place I’d look. You may also find suet right at your grocery store’s meat counter. If you don’t see any on the shelves, try asking the butcher or department manager directly. They may be able to get some for you.

Local farms that raise beef cows, would be another place to try. If the farmers don’t have any available, chances are they may have an idea where you can get some. Anyone raising meat animals tends to be pretty integrated into the locally-grown food community, and is likely to know who’s got what available.

raw suet being chopped with a knife — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Those bread crumbs

Regular, un-seasoned breadcrumbs are perfect here. I follow the 1800’s housekeeping tip of always grating the ends of dry bread as they go stale, so I’ve always got a 2-quart jar of good dried bread crumbs handy on my counter, but store-bought work just fine too!

If you don’t have whole nutmegs

If you can, I definitely encourage you to add whole nutmegs to your supply of spices, as well as a good grater–there’s nothing like fresh ground nutmeg! If you don’t have whole nutmeg on hand though, no worries. 1.5 teaspoons of ground nutmeg is about right for that half of a nutmeg this recipe.

How much flour to use

This recipe comes across a little wishy-washy about that amount of flour, but I found that simply using exactly the pint that’s initially called for worked perfectly. The pudding turned out well, and has a good texture. Any additional flour would have probably been excessive.

plum pudding batter in a pudding mold — *Do not fill your pudding mold this full! ¾ full is about as high as you want to go.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Using a pudding mold

I have an antique tin pudding mold with a well-fitted lid that I used. I loved how the pudding turned out in this, but I did realize that I overfilled it. In the future, I won’t fill the mold more than ¾ full. That pudding rose more than I expected. Also, really butter that mold well!

a plum pudding in a pudding mold — *This pudding rose SO much more than I expected! If I hadn’t wired the lid on just to be safe, it probably would have pushed the lid right up.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

If you don’t have a pudding mold, that’s ok! I have not personally boiled a pudding in a cloth, though that’s something I want to tackle this winter.

However, I’m going include the page of tips for pudding making from this cookbook below, and they’re quite well-written directions. If you try this, I hope you’ll let me know how it turns out!

a page from an old cook book — *From The White House Cook Book, 1887.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Boiling the pudding

I chose to boil this pudding, and it worked well. I used a small stock pot with enough boiling water to come just below the lid of the pudding mold, and kept the stock pot tightly covered. Halfway through the four hours of boil time, I lifted the lid just long enough to pour in some extra boiling water from a teapot, to bring the water level back up where it started.

Un-molding the pudding

I followed the instruction on the page above, to dip the mold immediately into cold water. Then I tipped it upside down and thumped the bottom of the mold good and hard. It did come out cleanly with just a bit of coaxing. If I hadn’t over-filled the mold, I think it would have slid right out more easily.

The sauce

Here’s the recipe for the sauce that’s meant to be paired with this pudding, according to the suggested Christmas Day menu from this cook book:

a recipe for plum pudding sauce — *From The White House Cook Book, 1887.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

There’s something so special and festive about a real, boiled plum pudding. I’ll tell you, I felt like Mrs. Cratchit as I was waiting nervously to see how it would turn out!

“In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered: flushed, but smiling proudly: with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.”
~ Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

If you’d like to serve yours flaming, like the Cratchit family enjoyed, here’s a post I liked from another blog about how to do this.

a Christmas plum pudding — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Well…I’ve just received the quote for getting running water back in the house, and it’s a doozy! For those of you who have asked how I keep this project going, here’s a rare moment of transparency. I’m actually a single mom–a domestic violence survivor, who supports my two kids by writing about gardening and homesteading. It’s tight, but the peaceful life I’ve made for us on this side of things is a joyful one, and I’m SO thankful that you’re part of it.

The 1800’s Housewife is my pet project, and one that doesn’t make an income yet, but at the gentle nudging of a couple readers, I’ve set up a “tip jar” where folks who want to (no pressure!) can be part of keeping us in ingredients, adding to the cook book collection, and you know…replacing that water tank.

send a tip

Please don’t feel pressured though, ok? That’s the last thing I want to do here!

Please know that YOU–your kind emails in my inbox, and comments on the website, are my favorite part of doing what I do. Thank you for being part of the 1800’s Housewife family, and…

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Wishing you love and peace… Anna

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

December 22, 2024 Recipes

A Christmas Day Menu (1887)

Dear friends ~

I’m suddenly realizing that it’s just three days ’til Christmas, and I actually haven’t shared an 1800’s suggested Christmas Day menu yet. Somehow in my head I’d done that ages ago!

I’ve been without properly running water for a couple of weeks now, and won’t be back up and running until Dec. 30, so believe me that I am not functioning at the top of my game right now, by any means.

If you’re on the email list, you may have followed along as we made Roast Goose, and Mince Pie. Today I’m making that Christmas Plum Pudding, so you can expect to see that in tomorrow’s email! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this festive menu…doesn’t it all sound wonderful?

~ Anna

THE WHITE HOUSE COOK BOOK

By Mrs. F. L. Gillette
and Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House
1887

An 1887 menu for Christmas Day — From The White House Cook Book, 1887. Page 458

I love how this menu includes suggestions for every meal of the day. The dishes really cover all the bases, and do it lavishly.

Fish and seafood show up in three different ways, game is represented in that lovely soup as well as the canvas back duck, and the star of the show is a traditional goose, which would have been a domestically-raised, large bird.

For dessert, there’s cake, pie, ice cream, and pudding–again covering all the bases. Fruit, nuts, and coffee are perfect for settling in, and “filling the cracks”.

I also enjoy seeing the full day of suggested menus, because it’s such a visual reminder that dinner, the big meal in the middle of the day, was the main event during this era. Supper, the evening meal, was a much smaller repast.

This is a cookbook that assumes a readership of very comfortable means, and that assumption shows up abundantly throughout this cook book. However, even written for a well-to-do audience, the supper menu draws on the leftover goose from dinner, offers just one fish, one vegetable, and one bread option, and two simple but lovely sweet dishes to finish it off, along with tea.

an old fashioned mincemeat pie made with meat — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

I hope you enjoy reading over this suggested Christmas Day menu as much as I do.

As always, thanks for being such a part of The 1800’s Housewife. Your emails, questions, and input make my day.

See a recipe listed on that menu that you’d like to try? Feel free to send me an email with requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

December 19, 2024 Condiments

Cranberry Sauce (1845)

This beloved holiday side dish could not be easier to make. From The New England Economical Housewife, here’s a fail-proof method for delicious cranberry sauce.

cranberry sauce made from an 1845 recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Few side dishes are more truly American than beautiful, ruby-red cranberry sauce. This simple, no-nonsense recipe is pulled from the suggested Thanksgiving Dinner menu in one of my favorite cook books–The New England Economical Housekeeper (1845).

Made without fuss, it’s what folks today would call a “whole berry” style sauce. I find the level of sweetness just right, and this has become my go-to cranberry sauce recipe. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

~ Anna

a dish of old-fashioned cranberry sauce. — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

CRANBERRY SAUCE

Wash and stew your cranberries in water; add almost their weight in clean sugar, just before you take them from the fire.
The New England Economical Housekeeper, 1845

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

(I’ve included the entire Thanksgiving Dinner menu page for your enjoyment. Cranberry Sauce is the next-to-last recipe on the page.)

a page from an 1800's cook book — The New England Economical Housekeeper, 1845. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

It really doesn’t get easier than this! Choose firm, quality cranberries, and you truly can’t go wrong!

Choosing your cranberries

This is a time to splurge on really good cranberries if you have them available. This year, I’ve found the brand carried by my local grocery chain to be a horrible disappointment.

Not wanting to use the name-brand cranberries again, I went to my small town’s food co-op, and bought a few pounds of locally-grown organic cranberries. Wow, what a difference! I was blown away by the flavor.

Having made this recipe with both mass-market and locally-grown berries, I’d just encourage you to grab the best you can for this recipe, where the flavor of the berries really does shine through.

cranberry sauce in a dish — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How much water

A good rule of thumb is to include just enough water that you can see it through the berries. If it comes to the top of the berries in your pan, that’s really more than you want, for a nice thick sauce.

Clean sugar

A good unbleached white sugar is perfect for this.

How much sugar to put in

“Almost their weight in clean sugar” is certainly open to interpretation, but for myself I find that 8 ounces of sugar to 10 ounces of cranberries is just about perfect. You can always add a bit more sugar if you find that it’s not quite sweet enough for your taste.

Once the berries are stewed nice and soft, go ahead and gently stir it in. Stew gently a little longer, just enough for the sugar to fully melt and incorporate into the sauce. Remove the sauce to a serving dish.

Cranberry sauce being spooned into dishes — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

I love this simple, easy recipe, and find myself making it far more often than just Thanksgiving and Christmas. Cranberry sauce recipes are often found in the old cookbooks listed along with other sauces meant for accompanying meat, and it’s really a nice little touch along with any good roast.

Until next time, ~ Anna

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

December 19, 2024 Meat & Game

Roast Goose (1881 & 1856)

There’s nothing like an old-fashioned Christmas goose for a festive holiday dinner! Here are two recipes for roasting that lovely fowl–one from 1856 and another from 1881.

an old fashioned roast goose for Christmas dinner — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Today’s email is little more than a quick note (probably a relief after the epic wall of words I sent out on Monday, talking about mince pies!).

I wanted to make sure I got you my favorite recipe for Roast Goose in plenty of time, in case you may be thinking of an old-fashioned goose for Christmas dinner.

In fact, I’m going to include two different Roast Goose recipes here. Both are wonderful. The photos you’ll see in this email are from last Christmas Day, when I made the recipe from Practical Cookery, with the bread and sage stuffing.

I’m featuring the recipe from Miss Parloa’s New Cook Book and Marketing Guide though, because if I could only give a person one recipe for roasting a goose, it would probably be this one. It’s simple, no-nonsense, and that potato dressing is just a nice change of pace, after the bread-based stuffing most of us enjoy with our Thanksgiving turkey.

Both recipes are heavenly, and if you’re lucky enough to have access to a goose this holiday season, I’d encourage you to give either of these a try!

~ Anna

a roast goose — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

ROAST GOOSE

Stuff the goose with a potato dressing made in the following manner: Six potatoes, boiled, pared and mashed fine and light; one table-spoonful of salt, one teaspoonful of pepper, one spoonful of sage, two table-spoonfuls of onion juice, two of butter.
Truss, and dredge well with salt, pepper and flour.
Roast before the fire (if weighing eight pounds) one hour and a half; in the oven, one hour and a quarter.
Make gravy the same as for turkey.
No butter is required for goose, it is so fat. Serve with apple sauce.
Many people boil the goose half an hour before roasting, to take away the strong flavor. Why not have something else if you do not like the real flavor of the goose?
Miss Parloa’s New Cook Book and Marketing Guide, 1881

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

an 1881 recipe for roast goose — *From Miss Parloa’s New Cook Book and Marketing Guide, 1881.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

I’m keeping today’s notes short, and thankfully this recipe is about as simple and low-fuss as it gets.

How juice those onions?

There is probably a “right” way to do this, but what worked well for me was to dice half an onion, put the pieces into my handheld citrus juicer, and just press the juice out. Half an onion gave more than enough for the two “table-spoonfuls”.

This didn’t ruin the juicer, by the way. I let it sit with a sprinkling of baking soda while I finished getting the goose in the oven, then washed like usual. No lingering onion smell.

How do you truss a goose?

Basically what you’re doing with trussing, is tying or skewering the goose so that it stays in a pleasing shape, with wings and legs close to the body as it roasts.

This site describes how to truss using both skewers, and twine (the method I used for the goose pictured in these photos)

Here’s a very quick video that tells how to truss waterfowl with just twine, which has since become my go-to method. It’s not a well produced video, but quick, simple, and doesn’t waste time.

an uncooked goose, stuffed and trussed — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What temperature should the oven be?

When roasting a goose using this recipe, I went with a temperature of 350° F. My 6-pound goose cooked in the same amount of time as the 8-pound goose called for in the recipe (an hour and 15 minutes).

Next time I roast a goose, I’ll go with 375° F, and see if that gives me the same timing as the recipe. This is the temperature I’d suggest.

When is the goose done?

It should be richly golden brown, with loose joints, and the juices should run clear when a deeply-inserted skewer is withdrawn. According the USDA, goose should be cooked to an internal temperature of 165° F.

an old fashioned roast goose — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Another recipe, with bread stuffing

Here’s the other recipe I wanted to give you, in case you’d prefer a bread stuffing, and more involved instruction. This is from Miss Hall’s Practical Cookery and Domestic Economy, published in 1856.

a recipe for roast goose from 1856 — *From Practical Cookery and Domestic Economy, 1856.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

I love it how this recipe also suggests exactly what to serve along with your Roast Goose. (It reminds me that I want to make the “dressed celery” to go along with it this year…something I neglected last time around!)

If you’d like to go with all authentic dishes, here’s an 1845 recipe for apple pie, and an 1887 recipe for mince pie. Both are absolutely delicious!

If you’ve never had a goose for Christmas, and you’re able to get your hands on one, this really makes for a special dinner.

Don’t forget to save all that good fat that renders out of the bird for cooking other dishes with, it’s wonderful stuff!

Also, I just want to pull us all back to the closing line of the recipe from Miss Parloa: “Why not have something else if you do not like the real flavor of the goose?”

When I read that line, it was about so much more than whether to serve goose or not. It was an invitation to allow ourselves freedom from traditions that don’t actually bring us joy.

I think that’s a wonderful perspective, as we enter this final, busy week before Christmas.

Until next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

December 14, 2024 Desserts

Mince Pies (1887)

A proper, boozy mincemeat, this wonderful recipe comes from the chief pastry cook of The Astor House, by way of The White House Cook Book. Made with lean beef, suet, green apples, and lots of raisins, it’s finished off with both Brandy and Madeira, for a mincemeat worthy of the fanciest Christmas table.

a crock full of real mincemeat — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

For ages, I’ve been wanting to try my hand at making true, old-fashioned mincemeat–using minced beef, suet, and all the things. Somehow I’ve just never gotten around to it.

After reading over the suggested Christmas Day menu from The White House Cook Book (1887), and seeing this recipe for mince pie on there, I knew this was the year I had to try it.

This recipe does take a bit of work, but most of the effort is simply lots and lots of chopping. If you have a few friends who enjoy old fashioned cooking, this would be a great recipe to make together. Gather some extra sets of hands to make light work of the project, then when you’re done, share the very large batch of finished mincemeat with everyone who helped. (This is a ten-quart recipe, if you’re wondering!)

The result is a wonderfully spicy, old fashioned mincemeat, perfect for Christmastime.

Not too spicy or boozy, all those individual flavors meld together and complement one another, while still coming through on their own. There’s a lot going in this recipe, and after tasting it, that feels like exactly what a really good mincemeat should be. Hope you enjoy it!

~ Anna

A large crock of old fashioned mincemeat pie filling — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

MINCE PIES. No. 1.

The “Astor House,” some years ago, was famous for its “mince pies.” The chief pastry cook at that time, by request, published the recipe. I find that those who partake of it never fail to speak in laudable terms of the superior excellence of this recipe, when strictly followed.
Four pounds of lean boiled beef, chopped fine, twice as much of chopped green tart apples, one pound of chopped suet, three pounds of raisins, seeded, two pounds of currants picked over, washed and dried, half a pound of citron, cut up fine, one pound of brown sugar, one quart of cooking molasses, two quarts of sweet cider, one pint of boiled cider, one tablespoonful of salt, one tablespoonful of pepper, one tablespoonful of mace, one tablespoonful of allspice, and four tablespoonfuls of cinnamon, two grated nutmegs, one tablespoonful of cloves; mix thoroughly and warm it on the range, until heated through. Remove from the fire, and when nearly cool, stir in a pint of good brandy, and one pint of Madeira wine. Put into a crock, cover it tightly, and set it in a cold place where it will not freeze, but keep perfectly cold. Will keep good all winter.
–Chef de Cuisine, Astor House, N.Y.
The White House Cook Book, 1887

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

An 1800's recipe for mince pies — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

This is one of those recipes that would be so much more fun to make with friends. I made only a half batch, and it still took me a couple hours to make this, working alone. If you had a few people set up with knives and cutting boards to handle all that chopping, you could certainly make quick work of it.

If you do choose to make this all yourself, one small suggestion I have is to chop the meat, before you chop ALL those apples. The apples are easier to chop, but there’s such a volume of them, that you’ll have a tired hand by the time you’re through. Having tired hands isn’t a great way to go into finely mincing that meat, which takes more skill than the apples.

You can tell that I did this the other way around, can’t you? After wearing my hand out chopping apples, I managed to nip a bit off the end of my finger while mincing the meat, and I’m usually extremely good with knives. Next time I’d chop the lean meat first, then the apples, and then the suet, which is just plain fun to chop into little waxy bits.

a pot full of uncooked mincemeat — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What cut of beef to use for this?

The recipe specifies lean beef, and some other 1800’s mincemeat recipes that I’ve seen specifically recommend neck meat. With that information, I went down to my local butcher shop, and the kind ladies there suggested a Yankee Pot Roast as a good choice.

That’s what I went with, and it really did work very well. It was an affordable cut at my local shop, but if it’s not easy to come by (or not affordable where you are), then I really do feel any good lean, tender cut of beef would work just fine.

Those green tart apples

I feel quite certain that what this recipe is indicating with the word “green”, is not apples that are specifically green in color, but “green” as in not quite ripe yet. Based on some other mincemeat recipes I’ve seen, and various contemporary mentions that mincemeat was usually made in the fall to keep all winter, this feels like the correct reading of it.

Next year, I’ll plan to make a batch of this in September, when good tart apple varieties are still hard and bit unripe.

For now, I made do with Granny Smith apples, which were certainly green in color, but were not very crisp, and by no means unripe. I do think using slightly unripe apples would be a benefit to the quality of the finished recipe, although it’s certainly delicious even with fully-ripe Granny Smiths.

mincemeat cooking in a pot — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Sourcing raw suet

Local farms that raise cows and sheep would be other great places to try. Remember that suet can come from lamb and mutton, as well as beef. If the farmers don’t have any available, chances are they may have an idea where you can get some. Anyone raising meat animals tends to be pretty integrated into the locally-grown food community, and is likely to know who’s got what available.

The currants

You can tell that the washed and dried currants were likely expected to be fresh, while most of us have a pretty hard time getting anything but dried currants these days.

If you are lucky enough to live in a place where fresh currants can be sourced, I’d go for it. For myself, since my currants were already clean and dried, I added them just the way they were, and that worked well. Like the raisins, they plump up over time as the mincemeat sits.

mincemeat pie filling in a crock with apples nearby — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Sweet cider and boiled cider

The sweet cider is just good fresh apple cider, that’s not alcoholic yet.

BOILED CIDER is cider that’s been slowly boiled down until it’s reduced in volume by half or more. It will get thicker and a little syrupy as it boils down. This was generally made and kept for flavoring baked goods, and has a wonderfully intense apple cider flavor. I already had a supply on hand, but if you’re making it just for this recipe, I’d take a quart of fresh cider, and simply simmer it slowly until it’s reduced to a pint, then use that.

Those nutmegs

If you can, I definitely encourage you to add whole nutmegs to your supply of spices, as well as a good grater. Ground nutmeg is handy, but there’s nothing like the flavor and scent of freshly ground nutmeg.

If you don’t have whole nutmegs available, or want to keep things easy, I generally use 2.5 teaspoons of nutmeg as a substitute for each whole nutmeg.

Choosing the right size pot

For a half batch of this recipe, I used a 2-gallon stock pot, and really needed every bit of the space. If you were to make a whole batch, you’d want to use at least a 4-gallon stock pot, or something like a large canner.

filling a pie shell with pincemeat — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Brandy and Madeira

It says “good brandy”, but let’s just be honest that this mama can’t be looking at the prices on top-shelf brandy. I mean, I did look, but whoa Nelly. On principle, I did not buy the cheapest brandy, but went with the third-cheapest brandy.

While we’re on the subject of alcohol, can we just talk about WHY are there so many booze options in a grocery store? Few endeavors feel more mentally draining, than trying to source an appropriate alcohol for a historic recipe, while deciphering the sea of labels in the tipsy aisle at Hannaford.

That said, the issue I ran into with the Madeira was not an overwhelm of choices, but a lack of them. Thank goodness for the kind department manager who took pity on me and finally pointed out the single bottle of utilitarian-looking Madeira in that entire store. I spontaneously announced to the whole aisle that she’d saved Christmas, then felt compelled to make sure every poor bystander knew it was for a recipe. I cannot take myself anywhere, and clearly need to just learn to order booze online.

If you can’t find Madeira, I hear that port or dark sherry would probably be suitable alternatives.

Baking that pie.

I made this as a single crust pie, using Sarah Hale’s “Family Pie Paste.” (That recipe is enough to make two single crust pies, or one two-crust pie.)

Baked at 350°F, in a 10″ standard-depth pie plate, this took an hour and 5 minutes to bake to golden, bubbly perfection.

How much does this recipe make?

I made just a half batch of this, and ended up with exactly 5 quarts of lovely mincemeat. A whole batch should give you 10 quarts, or 2.5 gallons.

This mincemeat is one of those old recipes that feels so special, it makes me want to share it with everyone I love…which works out, because it makes a big batch!

I love that it’s less cloyingly sweet than any store-bought mincemeat I’ve ever tried, and the texture is hearty, though not in an off-putting way.

Much like the 1845 Apple Pie recipe I made for Thanksgiving, it has an old-fashioned taste that’s unique but accessible, and it’s absolutely going on my yearly must-make list. This is one definitely worth trying, if you enjoy mincemeat!

Until next time, ~ Anna

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

December 14, 2024 Cakes & Cookies

Christmas Cookies (1845)

Made with just five ingredients, this historic Christmas cookie recipe offers a truly old-fashioned taste of the holidays. These caraway-studded little treats are a fun addition to Christmas cookie baskets, and would be a sure hit at any cookie swap!

a plate of caraway Christmas cookies, surrounded by holly with berries — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

When we think of getting into the Christmas spirit, is there anything that summons more heart-warming nostalgia than a fresh batch of Christmas cookies?

Most of us grew up with classics like gingerbread boys, linzer cookies, peanut butter kiss cookies, walnut crescents, and (if you were a child of the 80’s like me), magic cookie bars made with red and green M&Ms.

These Christmas cookies I’m sharing today have a whole different flavor profile than the modern flavors we tend to associate with the holidays though. No ginger, cloves, chocolate, or peppermint here!

These are studded with caraway seeds which (in my opinion) offer a wonderfully old-fashioned, almost “Old World” flavor.

These are such a fun way to share a truly historic taste of the season. I sent a batch of them in with my daughter for her fifth grade class, and she informed me that while everyone appreciated the chance to taste them, only two out of 18 kids “ACTUALLY liked them!”

Fair enough. Many folks have never tasted caraway beyond the context of a slice of rye bread, so I totally get it! If you’re feeling a bit adventuresome though, I hope you’ll give these lovely, caraway-studded cookies a try. They just might become a new family favorite!

~ Anna

christmas cookies — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

CHRISTMAS COOKIES

Take one pound and a half of flour, three quarters of a pound of sugar, half a pound of butter, half a cup of milk, and two spoonfuls of caraway seeds; melt the butter before you put it in. It is rather difficult to knead, but it can be done. Roll it out and cut it in hearts and diamonds, and bake it on buttered tins.
The New England Economical Housekeeper, 1845

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

An 1845 recipe for Christmas Cookies — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

As the recipe implies, the hardest thing about this recipe is working that stiff dough until it’s well and thoroughly mixed. Everything else is pretty straightforward.

We aren’t even left to guess at the amount of flour to use, like with many mid-1800’s cake and cookie recipes, so my baking notes are super short today!

a plate of christmas cookies made from an 1845 recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How much caraway seed to put in?

While the volume of spoon sizes is not specified clearly anywhere that I’ve found in the book, I’ve now made quite a number of recipes from this volume, and have found that when a “spoonful” is called for (as opposed to a teaspoon), it works well to use a modern tablespoon. When a “teaspoon” is prescribed, that’s when to reach for a modern teaspoon.

In this recipe, that usage worked well, since anything less than two tablespoons of caraway seeds really would have felt quite sparse–especially in a Christmas cookie.

old fashioned caraway Christmas cookies — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Mixing the dough

She’s right that this is quite a heavy dough, and mixing it well is an undertaking!

I combined the melted butter with the milk, and sugar, then added the flour and caraway seeds last. Working the flour in by hand does make for a stiff dough.

In the future, this is one of those recipes that I would definitely mix by hand if recreating the recipe with a class. However, if making them for a family treat or to include in Christmas cookie baskets, this is one of those times I’d go ahead and let myself employ the stand mixer, now that I’ve had the experience of making this recipe “properly” by hand at least once.

All that to say…please know that I’m not over here judging, if you go straight for the stand mixer!

a half eaten christmas cookie — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What temperature should the oven be?

Without an oven temperature specified, I tried baking these at both 325°F, and 350°. I found I liked the results best at 350°, since that allowed for golden brown edges, with a center that was still tender when enjoying the cookies warm from the oven.

Baked at either temperature, these will cool to a crisp cookie that keeps well, as cookies for holiday entertaining were supposed to.

How thick to roll the dough

I found that about ¼″ worked well for these. I did try making some a little thicker and others a little thinner, but ¼″ seems to give a result that feels like the “right” one.

You can tell from the photos that these cookies don’t spread or rise much, so the finished cookie remains about that same size as what you cut out.

I feel at this point I should draw attention to my failure in cookie cutting…while the directions clearly say to cut these in hearts and diamonds, you can tell I cut mine in hearts and circles! I’d just rolled out the dough, and that little round heirloom tin cutter sits just above the counter, so I grabbed it to cut just a few…and ended up totally forgetting to cut any of the dough into the prescribed diamonds! Ah, well. Next time.

a plate of old fashioned Christmas cookies surrounded by holly and berries — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How long to bake these?

Depending on the size of the cookies, I found these cooked in 9-11 minutes, at 350°F. They’re done when the centers are set and edges are golden brown.

I definitely enjoyed these more than either of my kids, but I have a feeling that if I just keep making them every year, eventually I’ll win everybody over, and they’ll enjoy them as much as I do.

Wishful thinking? Perhaps. More for me…

Until next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 21, 2024 Desserts

Family Pie Paste (1873)

This all-butter pie crust is an easy, no-fail recipe that works as well for savory meat pies, as it does for sweet pies like apple or pumpkin. This has become my everyday “go-to” pie crust recipe.

an unbaked apple pie from an 1800's apple pie recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

The pie crust recipe you’ll find here is from Sarah Hale’s 1873 cook book. You might recognize that name, since she was the person who advocated so tirelessly for Thanksgiving to be recognized as a national holiday.

Using her pie crust recipe for Thanksgiving pies just seems fitting, somehow. Plus–it’s just a classic, no-fail crust recipe that works well for both sweet or savory pies.

It’s a tender, flaky crust that always seems to come out right, and especially for sweet pies, this has become my “go-to” crust recipe. Hope you enjoy!

~ Anna

FAMILY PIE PASTE

Rub half a pound of butter into a pound of flour, and add water enough to knead it thoroughly.
Another common proportion is half a pound of butter to a pound and a half of flour.
Mrs. Hale’s New Cook Book, 1873

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

a pie crust recipe in a cook book from 1873 — *From Mrs. Hale’s New Cook Book, 1873.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

If you’ve never made an all-butter pie crust, you may worry that this will be difficult to roll out and work with. For some reason, all-butter crusts seem to have this reputation.

Honestly though, it’s become my everyday go-to crust recipe, because it’s easy to make, easy to roll, and works well for both sweet and savory pie recipes.

a ball of pie crust dough on a floured board — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Salted or Unsalted Butter?

Personally, when I’m making this crust for a sweet pie, I use unsalted butter. When making it for a savory pie, like a pork pie or a quiche, I use salted butter.

When in doubt, you really can’t go wrong with unsalted, in my opinion.

Start by working that butter well into the flour, using a fork or a pastry cutter if you have one. It should be so well integrated that the whole thing looks like cornmeal. Then you’re ready to add the water.

How much water?

I find that using the amounts of ½ pound of butter, to 1 pound of flour, requires anywhere from 9 to 11 tablespoons of water. That amount can vary a bit depending on everything from the brand of flour you’re using, to the brand or temperature of the butter. I start with 8 tablespoons, and work in more as needed to get a nice, soft consistency.

Think “brand new play dough when you first take it out of a fresh container” consistency, not “play dough after your kid has used it 87 times” consistency.

a pie crust filled with apple slices — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How many pies does this make?

It depends on the size and depth of your pie plates, but you can count on this recipe to generously provide bottom crusts for two single-crust pies, or a top and bottom crust for one two-crust pie.

If you’re using an old-fashioned pie plate like mine, these tended to be on the shallow side, and you really could get three bottom crusts out of one batch of this recipe.

an apple pie from an 1800's recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

After sharing this recipe in a recent email, I had a great question from a reader. She was wondering if this crust is more prone to browning, since it’s made with all butter…especially a highly ornamented crust with lots of small details.

Here was my answer:

“Yes, in my opinion, this all-butter crust is prone to browning just a bit, especially those small details. If I wanted to ornament it even more, I’d probably opt for a variation of this crust recipe that appears in quite few of these 1800’s cookbooks. It’s the same ratio of shortening to flour, but half of that shortening is lard or suet instead of butter.

I make this often, using ¼ pound butter and ¼ pound lard, to the one pound of flour, and it genuinely does make for a slightly flakier crust that can hold up to higher, more-prolonged heat, without browning as deeply as the all-butter crust.

I hope this helps! Happy baking!”

I’ll have to share some good lard and suet pie crust recipes soon. Those are great as well, especially for savory pies!

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This recipe was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 21, 2024 Cakes & Cookies

Hickory Nut or Walnut Cake (1887)

This holiday nut cake from The White House Cook Book is really a spice cake in disguise! Featuring an entire “tablespoonful” of mace, it has a wonderfully old-fashioned flavor that spice cake aficionados will love.

a walnut cake from an 1800's recipe — Photo Credit: The 180’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

We’ve been working our way through recipes in the two suggested Thanksgiving Menus I shared recently, from cook books published in 1845 and 1887. (You can find those menus here if you missed them.)

As I type, there’s a turkey roasting in the oven according 1800’s instructions, stuffed with an authentic oyster dressing I opted for, after a special request from a reader (shout out to Dale, whose mother used to make oyster dressing!)

You’ll hear all about those in Wednesday’s email. For today, let’s talk about that cake from the 1887 White House Cook Book menu.

In the menu, it suggests serving a “Hickory Nut Cake,” from a recipe that’s said to be on page 271. If you look up that recipe, you’ll see that there, it’s called “Hickory Nut or Walnut Cake”. There’s a picture of the recipe further down in this email.

Now, I was pretty determined to make this with hickory nuts. I used to live on an Island where old Hickory and Heart-Nut trees could be found at the sites of old homesteads, and so I’ve always thought of them as fairly common nuts.

Turns out, where I am now in Maine, it can be a little harder to get good hickory nuts, especially at a price one can afford. SO, in the interest of getting this recipe made and sharing it with you in time for the holiday, I gave up the search (this time around) and made the cake with walnuts.

It turned out absolutely lovely–definitely a recipe I’d put on the “make this again” list.

That said, if (like me), you’re going into this with the idea of making a mild, nutty-tasting cake, please know that this is actually a SPICE cake in disguise….and a spicy one at that. We are talking a full tablespoon of mace here.

If spice isn’t your favorite, it’s definitely worth adjusting either your expectations or, *gasp*, the recipe, as you’re making this. If you need permission to alter this to your family’s taste, just know that these old cookbooks are full of little penciled corrections and notations…mothers have been tweaking recipes to better suit their families since long before any of these volumes were printed. (This clove cake is a perfect example!)

What makes this cake special, in my opinion, isn’t just the up-front flavor of the mace (a spice that’s sadly gone out style, but deserves a comeback). It’s the way those nuts and raisins show up in layers in the finished cake, rather than just scattered throughout. It makes for a cake that feels sophisticated, and slightly fussy, in the best possible way. It won me over, and I’d definitely suggest giving this one a go…especially for any of you spice cake lovers. Hope you enjoy!

~ Anna

a frosted walnut cake from an 1800's recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

HICKORY NUT OR WALNUT CAKE

Two cups of fine, white sugar, creamed with half a cup of butter, three eggs, two-thirds of a cup of sweet milk, three cups of sifted flour, one heaping teaspoonful of baking powder sifted through the flour. A tablespoonful (level) of powdered mace, a coffee-cup of hickory nut or walnut meat, chopped a little. Fill the cake-pans with a layer of the cake, then a layer of raisins upon that, then strew over these a handful of nuts, and so on, until the pan is two-thirds full. Line the tins with well-buttered paper, and bake in a steady but not quick oven. This is most excellent.
The White House Cook Book, 1887

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

an 1800's recipe for hickory nut or walnut cake — *From The White House Cook Book, 1887.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

the second half of an 1800's recipe for hickory nut or walnut cake — *Hickory Nut or Walnut Cake, cont. From The White House Cook Book, 1887.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Compared to many recipes of the era, this one is quite detailed. For example, it specifies exactly how much flour to put in, rather than leaving it to the baker’s intuition. It also clarifies that the milk is to be sweet (as opposed to sour milk, which was often used in baking).

This was a pretty easy recipe to follow, but as usual, I do have a few notes that may be helpful if you decide to make this.

An iced walnut cake from an 1800's recipe. — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What kind of pan to use?

Square, round, and loaf pans were all quite common to use for a cake like this. The recipe calls for lining the cake pans with buttered paper, so I feel it’s unlikely that a slope-sided pan with a center hole (another common shape of the era) would have been used for this particular cake.

Not having a larger round pan (yes, that’s embarrassing…I need to work on my cake pan collection!) I decided to make this recipe in two 6″ round cake pans. I actually loved how they came out, and once frosted, they were very cute and festive.

Sweet milk

Last time I shared a cake recipe that called for sweet milk, I received an excellent question by email from a reader. She was wondering if this meant sweetened condensed milk.

It actually just means good fresh milk that still smells “sweet”, as opposed to sour milk. Because sour milk was often used in baking (the increased acidity helped with the leavening), it wasn’t always taken for granted the milk to be used in a cake recipe was supposed to be fresh.

In this case, it is. Go ahead and use whatever nice, fresh milk you have in the fridge.

a nut cake from an 1800's recipe with slices served — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

That tablespoonful of mace

If this feels like a lot, it kind of is. One might even question whether the tablespoon sizes are actually equivalent to our modern measuring spoons.

For this volume, The White House Cook Book, that tablespoonful is a true tablespoon, just like you have in your measuring spoon set. The measurement is correct.

That said, it does make for a spicy cake. Not the most spicy 1800’s cake I’ve ever made, but it does make for a “love it or leave it” sort of result. Spice cake lovers will likely adore it, others may not make it through a whole slice. Personally, I loved it with the full tablespoon, and wouldn’t change a thing, but please know I wouldn’t judge, if you decided to cut that amount in half.

If you don’t have mace in your spice drawer, you should. You can almost always still find it at any well-stocked grocery store, and if you enjoy 1800’s cooking, you’ll use it again. I promise.

raisins sprinkled on cake batter from an 1800's cake recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Those layers of raisins and nuts

You’ll notice that there’s no amount given for the volume of raisins to use. Personally, I took about ¼ cup for each layer and evenly scattered them. I ended up using about ¾ cup of raisins total.

For the nuts, it seemed to me that the directions meant for the first cup of nuts that we’d “chopped a little”, to get mixed right into the batter. So I did that, and then used an additional ¼ cup of nuts (also chopped a little), for each layer of raisins and nuts. This brought the total amount of nuts used to about 1 and ¾ cups.

The directions do seem a tad ambiguous, but I think if I hadn’t mixed the cupful of nuts into the batter, and instead used those for the raisins and nuts layers, this really wouldn’t have ended up seeming like a “nut cake”.

Having tasted the finished cake, I would definitely say that using the extra nuts in addition to the cupful seems like what was intended here.

That buttered paper

What a misery. Greasing paper to line cake pans is not a baking task I enjoy, but it does make for absolutely perfect finished cakes.

For a holiday cake, it’s worth it.

They would have literally used well-buttered “note paper”. My cheap printer paper is more absorbent than the popular note paper of that era would have been, so I allowed myself to use parchment paper, which I still greased well with butter.

a cake with buttered paper — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Oven Temperature

“A steady but not quick oven”.

I ended up settling on 340 F as a temperature that felt accurate to this description, and liked how my 6″ cakes baked at that temperature. I’d definitely suggest it.

How long to bake this?

In 6″ round pans, at 340°F, these cakes took 1 hour and 5 minutes to bake perfectly. The top and edges were golden brown, and the centers well set.

an 1800's nut cake being spread with white icing — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What about icing?

Here’s the recipe I used from this cook book. When in doubt, if you’re making a spice, nut, or fruit cake, from an 1800’s cook book, going with whatever basic “egg white and sugar” icing recipe appears in the cook book is likely to be an appropriate choice.

an 1800's recipe for icing — *From The White House Cook Book, 1887.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

*Sugar Icing, cont. From The White House Cook Book, 1887.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

This icing is a lot like the “royal icing” that’s used for permanently cementing the architecture of gingerbread houses. Once it dries like it’s supposed to, it’s hard.

Drying an iced cake in a "cool oven" — *Drying that icing, in the “cool oven”.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

The perk of this is that as long as the cake stays un-cut, it remains tender, moist, and basically perfect inside…for days, if not longer. You could make a cake like well in advance, before when you needed to serve it.

an 1800's nut cake — *Use a SHARP, thin knife, for cleanly cutting through that hard icing.*
Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

I found myself leaving behind bits of frosting, while enjoying the cake, because golly, that’s a crunchy, hard layer of sugar. It’s very authentic to the era though, and certainly worth serving (and eating!)a cake this way at least once I think.

slices of an authentic 1800's nut cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

My kids didn’t enjoy this cake as much as they did the clove cake or coffee cake that I’ve made recently. It was a hit with the grownups though, and definitely one I’d made again.

Next up on our whirlwind roundup of 1800’s Thanksgiving recipes, we’ll be talking (roast) turkey, and oyster dressing!

Until next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 14, 2024 Desserts

Apple Pie (1845)

If you only try one 1800’s recipe this Thanksgiving, I’d suggest it be this apple pie from 1845!

an apple pie from an 1845 apple pie recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

This apple pie recipe is from an 1845 cook book called The New England Economical Housekeeper.

It’s one of the cook books that lists a suggested menu for Thanksgiving Day, which I shared in a recent newsletter. (You can find those menus from 1845 and 1887 here.)

Now, I’ve never in my life put molasses into an apple pie, and let me tell you, it did give me pause. However, the result was flavorful, comforting, perfection.

It’s probably worth saying that apple pie has never really been my thing. If you turned me loose with the Thanksgiving dessert sideboard, and a miraculously endless appetite, those mince and pumpkin pies would be history before I’d ever bother touching the apple pie. Unless it was THIS apple pie.

The flavor of this pie, with the grounding earthiness of the molasses, is just different…delightfully different.

If you’re looking for a holiday recipe that’s comfortingly familiar, while still being unique enough to wow your friends with a noticeably “un-modern” flavor profile, this apple pie recipe would be a perfect choice. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

~ Anna

APPLE PIE

Peel the apples, slice them thin, pour a little molasses, and sprinkle some sugar over them; grate on some lemon-peel, or nutmeg. If you wish to make them richer, put a little butter on the top.
The New England Economical Housekeeper, 1845

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

An 1845 recipe for apple pie. — *From The New England Economical Housekeeper, 1845.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

I love how this recipe is written, with not one single measurement specified. It really does feel like getting a recipe from your grandmother over the phone, doesn’t it? “Oh, you know. You put some of this, and then a little of that…“

Thankfully, you can’t go too wrong with any combination of these ingredients, but I’ll share how much I used of everything in case you find it helpful.

What kind of apples to use?

Crisp, hard, and fairly tart apple varieties have long been the standard for pies, going back well before the 1800’s. Among the varieties you’re likely to have easy access to in today’s grocery stores, a combination of McIntosh, Cortland, and Granny Smith serves pretty well.

If you’re lucky enough to have access to a heritage apple orchard, varieties like Northern Spy, Newtown Pippin, or Duchess of Oldenberg would be lovely. Or ask the orchardist what they recommend for favorite pie apples.

an antique colander with pie apples — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How much molasses?

I used ¼ cup of molasses in my 10″ pie.

The pie plate I used for this is probably turn of the century, or just a tad earlier, and it’s the usual depth of a 9″ plate, so a bit shallower than most 10″ pie plates these days.

I felt the ¼ cup amount was absolutely perfect. For a larger, deeper pie, I’d bump that up to a generous ⅓ cup.

How much sugar to put in?

I used ⅓ cup of white sugar, and loved the result. Next time, I might even bump that down to ¼ cup, but most people like desserts sweeter than I do, so if I were making this for company, I’d use exactly the same measurements I did this time.

If you’re making a deeper dish pie, you may want to bump that up to ½ cup.

apple pie filling from an 1800's recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Lemon peel or nutmeg?

Totally baker’s choice! I went with lemon peel for two reasons. First, when multiple options are given in these old recipes, I usually opt for the first one, since I imagine that may have been the more usual or preferred option at the time. (This is purely supposition on my part.)

The other reason was that I’ve had nutmeg in apple pies all my life, but never lemon peel. The brightness that the lemon zest lent to the finished pie was subtle, but it was definitely there, and I loved it. If you’re making two pies, it would be fun to try one each way.

About that butter.

I meant to put some on, because I really did want to experience what that “richer” result tasted like. But honestly I got distracted by trying to decide how to dress that top crust (I do really love making pies!), and just plain forgot to put the butter on. I’ll remember next time.

Having tasted the finished pie without it, I can imagine it would be great.

That said, if you choose to make it without the optional butter, I can vouch that the finished pie, sans butter, does not in any way taste like it’s lacking anything. It’s pretty special even without it.

Top crust or no?

You can tell from the photos that I opted for a top crust on mine, and in the places where I’ve seen it specified in other 1800’s cook books, apple pie generally seems to have been considered a “two crust pie”.

Don’t forget to cut at least one vent in the center of that top crust. This particular cook book doesn’t specify the importance of that, but it’s a caution I’ve seen mentioned several times in other nineteenth century cook books.

Hearts and circles were popular shapes for cutouts during that era, both for cookies and pastry, which is why I opted for the heart motif. Don’t feel you need to skip ornamentation of the crust, to be historically accurate. Especially for a holiday, a pie crust may have been quite elaborate. Feel free to have fun and make it beautiful…if you lived in 1845, you probably would have.

This is the 1800’s pie crust recipe I used for this pie in the photos, by the way.

How hot should the oven be?

I baked this pie at 350 F, and that worked well. It’s what I’d use again.

How long does it take to bake?

Mine actually took an hour and 18 minutes to seem like it was baked to perfection. That felt long to me, but for the apples I chose (Cortland, Granny Smith and McIntosh) that was the time it needed.

With other apple varieties, the same recipe might bake in less time, or for a deeper dish pie, it might take a bit longer.

I’d start peeping in on it after 45 minutes, and keep a good eye on it after that, until it’s done. You want the crust to be golden brown, and the center should be good and juicy.

a slice of apple pie from an 1800's recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

If you try this, please feel free to let me know what you think. I really love hearing about readers’ results with these recipes!

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This recipe was originally shared in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 13, 2024 Recipes

1800’s Thanksgiving Day Menus

cook books from the 1800's — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Thanksgiving Day is just three weeks from yesterday, can you believe it?

This fall has whipped right by, and it’s really boggling my mind that we’re already on the brink of the holiday season, but here we are!

If you’d like to celebrate with an 1800’s style Thanksgiving meal this year, today’s email has some inspiration you might enjoy. Now and then, these nineteenth century cook books contain menu suggestions, for various occasions throughout the year.

Below, you’ll find the suggested menus for Thanksgiving Day, from both The New England Economical Housekeeper (published in 1845), and The White House Cook Book (1887).

From now until Thanksgiving, all of the recipes you’ll see here in the newsletter will be from one or the other of these menus, so keep your eyes open for some fun old-fashioned holiday recipes. (Real mince pie? Yes, please!)

~ Anna

THE NEW ENGLAND ECONOMICAL HOUSEKEEPER
and Family Receipt Book

By Mrs. E. A. Howland
1845

I try to not have favorites among my cook book collection, but as one of the oldest volumes on my shelves, it’s hard not to have a special place in my heart for this one.

It’s a small, no-nonsense sort of cook book, so it feels especially significant that an entire page is dedicated to the suggestion of what to serve on Thanksgiving Day.

It’s also convenient that the instructions for most of these dishes are included right there on the page. I’m especially looking forward to trying the Plum Pudding, as well as the Gravy, Oyster, and Turnip Sauces. They did take their sauces seriously in the 1800’s, and I love that!

This cook book also has the apple pie recipe that I’m looking forward to trying and sharing here.

THE WHITE HOUSE COOK BOOK

By Mrs. F. L. Gillette
and Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House
1887

a thanksgiving menu from an 1800's cook book — The White House Cook Book, 1887. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

After looking at this menu, all I can think about is how I want Porterhouse Steak, Buckwheat Cakes, and Maple Syrup on Thanksgiving morning. Talk about a holiday breakfast!

I’m also especially looking forward to trying that Hickory Nut Cake (which sounds just amazing), the Venison Pastry, and the Mince Pie.

a winter luxury pie pumpkin in a field — *First introduced in 1893, “Winter Luxury” will always have my heart as the ultimate pie pumpkin variety.* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

The Thanksgiving Day menus from these two cook books are ones I’m focussing on this year, but I do feel quite certain I’ve encountered at least one other Thanksgiving Day menu while reading through 1800’s cook books. As I come across any others, I’ll come back and add them.

As always, thanks for being such a part of what I do. Your emails, questions, and input make my day. Feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This article was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 7, 2024 Cakes & Cookies

Coffee Cake (1877)

If you’re looking for a good 1800’s coffee cake recipe to try, this is the one I recommend. So far, it’s the best-tasting one I’ve tried!

slices of coffee cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Just a quick little note this morning, and an easy recipe.

Much the way I’ve tried and shared multiple 1800’s recipes for gingerbread (some better than others), so too, I’ve been trying various 1800’s Coffee Cake recipes from different cookbooks, printed throughout different decades of the nineteenth century.

In my opinion, this Coffee Cake recipe I’m sharing today is both tastier and less dry than the 1887 recipe I shared last winter (you can find that one here.) I’m far from exhausting the Coffee Cake recipes in these cookbooks, but so far, this is the one I’d choose to make again. It’s perfect for a chilly fall weekend.

Speaking of fall–do you realize that Thanksgiving is just 22 days away? From now until then, all of the recipes I’m making and sharing will be ones specifically suggested for serving on Thanksgiving Day, in the “suggested menus” sections from a couple of these 1800’s cookbooks.

Pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, and oysters on the half-shell, here we come…

~ Anna

COFFEE CAKE

One cup of butter, one cup of sugar, one cup of molasses, one cup of coffee cold, one cup of currants, one teaspoonful of soda, one teaspoonful of mixed spices, two or four eggs, flour to thicken.
The Home Cook Book, 1877

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

an 1800's recipe for coffee cake. — From The Home Cook Book, 1877. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Here are a few observations that might be helpful, if you’d like to give this recipe a go:

sliced coffee cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What kind of pan to use?

Loaf, round, or square pans all would have been common choices for a coffee cake like this one. Another popular style through the late 1800’s was a fluted round pan, with a hole in the middle…something of a wider, more-shallow predecessor to the bundt pan, which wouldn’t be introduced to most American kitchens until the 1950’s.

I found that this recipe works well in two loaf pans. It’s also easy to make a half-batch of this recipe, which makes a nice single loaf.

Should you grease the pan?

You’ll want to grease the pan well (butter or lard would be the right choice, if you want to be authentic.) Then dredge the well-greased pan lightly with flour.

What kind of coffee?

Most coffee cake recipes of the 1800’s specify that the coffee should be “as brewed for the table”, and sometimes it’s suggested that it be “made strong”.

Without any clarifying notes in this particular recipe, I simply made an extra cup of the Ethiopia Sidamo I’m loving right now (and you know I make it strong), then let it get cold before using it to make this cake.

an iced coffee cake from an 1800's recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What to use for spices?

I used ¼ teaspoon allspice, ¼ teaspoon mace, and ½ teaspoon cloves, to make up the 1 teaspoon of mixed spice, and really liked the resulting flavor profile. As a die-hard spice lover, I honestly could have doubled the spice in this, and been happy.

As it was, the spice did not overpower the flavor of the coffee (this is a coffee cake after all!), and honestly that coffee flavor would have been overpowered if the spices were more pronounced.

All that said, any combination of cloves, nutmeg, mace, allspice, ginger, or cinnamon, would be appropriate spices to reach for in this era, and you really can’t go wrong with any of these.

Also, if you love spice cake as much as I do, this is the recipe you need to try.

slices of iced coffee cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Two eggs or four?

Now, the simple solution here would be to use three, and that would certainly make a lovely cake. It was not uncommon for cake recipes of the era to specify a range in the number of eggs to use. Eggs were dear in the winter months when chickens were not laying abundantly (or at all), and were cheap in the summer.

The general idea was that putting in the maximum number of eggs called for in a given recipe, would result in a richer, better cake. Basically, “put in this many if you can, but don’t worry if you can’t”.

(Next time I come across one of the recipes that mentions this concept specifically, I’ll need to take a picture and share it. I couldn’t put my finger on one in time for hitting “send” on this email today, but I’ll keep my eyes open!)

With this in mind, I went with four eggs and loved it. Would it be great with 2? I’m sure it would still be good. If you try it this way, please let me know how it comes out for you!

How much flour to put in?

I found that 3 and ¼ cups of flour seemed about perfect for this recipe, when made with 4 moderate-sized chicken eggs. If using only 2 eggs, you’d want to tweak this, perhaps starting with 2 ¾ cups and going from there.

Save out a couple tablespoons of the flour when you’re putting it in, so you can use it to dredge the currants–this helps them to stay nicely dispersed throughout the cake, rather than sinking to the bottom.

About those currants.

It’s worth getting your hands on good dried currants if you can, since the flavor of these truly is different from raisins. That said, if you don’t have currants on hand, and want to make this recipe, raisins would be a fine substitute. I would chop them small so they’re more currant-sized.

Regardless of whether you use currants or raisins, take those couple of tablespoons of flour that you reserved, put it in a bowl, and add the dried fruit. Give them a good toss, until the fruit is well floured, then add it all to the cake batter. This was a common practice in 1800’s cake making, and really makes a difference with keeping your dried fruit nicely sprinkled throughout the cake, rather than sinking to the bottom as the cake is cooking.

Oven temperature

I went with 350°F for baking this cake, and it’s what I’d use again. I felt the cake cooked through appropriately without getting too dry. 340°F would probably also work well, if you’re looking for a slightly less golden-brown crust, while still attaining a well-set center.

a hand reaching for a slice of coffee cake — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How long to bake this?

In my loaf pans, this took fifty-five minutes to bake.

What about icing?

Here’s the general icing recipe from this cookbook:

I found that using this recipe, made with three eggs whites, was more than enough for a loaf of this cake. Four egg whites should give plenty of frosting for two loaves.

I did not add any additional flavoring to it, since I really wanted the flavor of the coffee to come through.

a loaf of coffee cake with icing — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

If you give this recipe a try, I’d love to hear about it!

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 7, 2024 Recipes

Lentil Soup (1885)

Hey there, friends.

I’m learning so much from this project. Today’s lesson: don’t describe a recipe until you make it.

When I told you this lentil soup recipe was coming, I called it “hearty”. When I think of lentil soup, “hearty” is the word that comes to mind. I think of my neighbor’s famous lentil soup that called for half a cup of butter and every vegetable in the fridge. That was a hearty lentil soup.

This one…this is the lentil soup you make to warm six cold pairs of hands, to fill six hungry bellies, and to bring six tired hearts together around a loving table at the end of a day. This is the lentil soup recipe written for the mothers of New York City in 1885…the ones who had ten cents to spend on dinner, and not a penny more.

This isn’t a soup you tuck into with a big spoon, it’s a soup that you want to pick up and sip from the edge of your bowl, grateful for the bulk of those dry or toasted bread bits in the bottom, when you get to them.

Amazing how a bowl of soup can make everything I’ve read about city life during the industrial revolution a little more tangible.

I’m feeling a little extra grateful today…for my warm house and full pantry, and for all of you out there reading along and partaking in this project. Thank you for doing this with me.

~ Anna

LENTIL SOUP

“For two quarts of soup half a pint of yellow lentils, (cost five cents,) washed, and put to boil in three pints of cold water, with one cents’ worth of soup greens, and boiled gently until the lentils are soft enough to break between the fingers; every half hour a gill of cold water should be added, and the lentils again raised to a boiling point, until they are done; they should then be passed through a sieve with a wooden spoon, using enough of the liquor to make them pass easy, and mixed with the rest of the soup; it should be seasoned with salt and pepper, and is then ready to simmer for half an hour, and serve hot, with dice of fried bread half an inch squre, like those used for pea soup, or with bits of stale bread. A plentiful dinner of lentil soup and bread costs only about ten cents.”

Twenty-Five Cent Dinners for Families of Six, 1885

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

An 1800's recipe for lentil soup — From Twenty-Five Cent Dinners for Families of Six, 1885. Page 33. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Soup Greens.

I relied on quite a few bits of context, scattered throughout this little cookbook, when I was making this recipe. It feels straightforward, until you find yourself wondering “What were soup greens in 1885, and how much of them could you buy for a penny?” Not finding concrete guidance on this, even in the marketing section of the book, I ended up going with the belief that these were “lesser greens” and used about a cup of mixed celery, onion, and leek tops.

How does this add up to two quarts?

Unlike the pea soup recipe we made a few weeks ago, this recipe doesn’t start out with extra water and boil down to two quarts. It starts out with less than two quarts of ingredients, and simmers down to less than that (even with the addition of those gills of water), as the lentils cook. So that extra liquid to make the final “two quarts of soup” has to come from somewhere.

From the context, I believe the author (Juliet Corson) means this to be broth. On page 31, she writes “For instance, the pot-liquor in which meat has been boiled needs only the addition of a few dumplings or cereals, and seasoning, to form a perfect nutriment.” I think that’s what she’s doing with this recipe…preparing the cereals and seasoning to addto broth for that “perfect nutriment”. I used venison broth for making this, but any broth would work well. On page 32, she gives a recommendation for always having broth available, by keeping a “pot on the back of the stove to receive all the clean scraps of meat, bones, and remains of poultry and game, which are found in every kitchen…”

What kind of lentils to use.

This, at least, should be easy, right? She specifies “yellow”. And yet…later in the book where she talks about lentils, she only refers to two types- “small flat brown”, and “larger, about the size of peas, and of a greenish color”. So for this recipe, I do not believe she was talking about the very bright yellow lentils we sometimes find available today, but instead I went with the common “small flat brown”, that she describes. It’s comforting that she goes on to say that “both types are equally well flavored and nutritious”, and I think that using what you have at hand fits the approach of this cookbook, so would certainly encourage you to try this recipe with whatever type you have available.

How much is a gill?

A gill would have been right about half a modern cup, or 4 ounces.

How much bread could you buy with the remaining 4 cents?

About ⅔ of a loaf. Elsewhere in the book she refers to a store-bought loaf of bread as costing six cents. If using homemade bread, that would go a little further.

a bowl of lentil soup being filled from a ladle — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

This is one of those recipes that would wonderful to make with kids, as part of a homeschool unit on the industrial revolution. Nothing brings home history, like tasting it!

I also love what an invitation to gratitude this recipe offers. I may not make this recipe again for dinner, but of all the meals I’ve made throughout this 1800’s cook book project, this is truly one of those that’s stuck with me the most.

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests. Getting emails from y’all is such a joyful part of what I do, and they’re always welcome. ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

November 7, 2024 Breads

Corn Muffins (1876)

This easy Corn Muffin recipe from 1876 is simple and hearty.

corn muffins in a cast iron pan — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

Nights have been cold here in Maine, and we’ve seen the first hard frosts adorning the yard and gardens in the mornings. Things have taken a turn toward winter.

With the frosty mornings, warm and cozy breakfasts have been welcome, even if it means I need to get into the kitchen a little extra early on school mornings.

These corn muffins were a tasty little recipe to try this week, and I love it that they come together so quickly. Five minutes of heating the pan while mixing ingredients, another 14 or so for the muffins to bake, and they’re ready for the table.

You’ll notice there’s no salt or sugar in this recipe, so the flavor of the corn really comes through (if you can get your hands on fresh-ground corn meal, it’s absolutely worth it!). That nice neutral flavor profile makes it easy to top these with just about anything you like, whether sweet or savory.

If you’re looking for something easy and different to try along with breakfast this weekend, these feel hearty and wholesome, perfect for a cozy morning.

~ Anna

CORN MUFFINS

Two cups of Indian meal, two cups of flour, two eggs, piece of butter size of an egg, melted, two teaspoonsful of cream of tartar, one teaspoonful of soda, and one pint of milk.
The Economical Cook Book, 1876

pan of corn muffins next to an old cook book — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

This is such a quick and easy little recipe, but a here a few notes that might help if you’re giving it a go.

a cast iron pan with corn muffins — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How much butter is “size of an egg”?

The classic conversion for this old measurement of butter, is that it equals ¼ cup. You can see this in the table below, which appears in Mrs. Lincoln’s Boston Cook Book (my copy is from 1883).

an 1800's table of measures — Mrs. Lincoln’s Boston Cook Book, page 31. 1883. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Personally, if I were matching the size of my own chicken’s eggs, I’d go closer to ⅓ cup, and I actually think this recipe could handle this if you wanted to play around with it. For the sake of adhering to the common conversion though, I went with ¼ cup.

Indian Meal

This simply means cornmeal. Throughout the entirety of the 1800’s this is what cornmeal is most commonly referred to, in every cook book I’ve studied, all the way from the 1820’s through the 1890’s. It took until well into the 20th century, before this terminology finally began to be widely dropped, in favor of simply “cornmeal”.

The freshest, stone-ground cornmeal you can get will definitely give the best result, especially since the corn flavor really has the chance to shine through in this very simple recipe.

a corn muffin sitting on the cast iron pan it was baked in — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What type of pan to use?

If you’re lucky enough to have a good cast iron muffin pan, by all means use that. Nothing is better than a nice crusty muffin straight out a cast iron pan!

The 1800’s way to make muffins in cast iron, is to grease the pan, then heat it in the oven. When it’s good and hot, take it out to spoon the muffin batter into the hot pan, and then put it right back into the oven for the muffins to bake. When you follow this method, using a well-seasoned pan, it’s almost impossible to end up with baked goods stuck to your pan. The muffins come out cleanly, and with a perfectly crisp exterior.

If you don’t have a cast iron pan, go ahead and grease your muffin pan, using it as usual, without pre-heating it as you would for an iron pan.

a corn muffin being spread with butter — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Oven Temperature

Breakfast breads were made in quite a hot, or “quick” oven. I set mine to 400° F, and found that worked well.

How long to bake these muffins?

In my cast iron muffin pan, at 400°F, these take 14-15 minutes to bake perfectly. You want the tops to be noticeably golden brown, and the centers to be well set.

If you’re using a different type of muffin pan, and haven’t pre-heated it, your muffins might take just a little longer.

We definitely enjoyed these, especially the way the simple, minimal ingredients allowed the flavor of the cornmeal to shine through. They’re a fairly solid little muffin, though the crumb is not what you’d call dense, and they’re really quite lovely.

I’m eager to try a few different corn muffin recipes from other cook books, representing different decades, to see if others might result in lighter, more lofty muffins. I’ll definitely keep you posted!

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Corn Muffins (1876)

This easy Corn Muffin recipe from 1876 is simple and hearty, perfect for a cozy breakfast on a cold day.

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Servings:

Ingredients

2 cups corn meal
2 cups flour
2 eggs
¼ cup butter
2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 pint milk

Notes

Modern notes:

Preheat oven to 400 F. If using a cast iron pan, grease well and pre-heat pan.

Mix all ingredients just until well incorporated.

Drop into well greased pan, filling muffin cups ⅔ full. Bake 14-15 minutes or until golden brown and centers are set.

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

October 8, 2024 Condiments

Catsup (1859)

“Make this catsup once, and you will wish to make it every year.” From The Young Housekeeper’s Friend, 1859.

homemade ketchup with fresh tomatoes — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Dear friends ~

I’m so sorry to miss sending the Wednesday and Friday emails last week. The kids and I took turns coming down with a bad cold that was going around school, and it really threw me off my game. We’re so glad to be on the other side of that!

The first day the kids were home sick, before it caught up with me, I decided to take advantage of the quiet home day and make a large batch of this catsup recipe.

Having a big fragrant pot simmering away on the stove, while replenishing tissues, bringing juice boxes, and reading Jules Verne aloud to snuffly kids, was so cozy and comforting.

About that spelling. If (like most US readers) you grew up spelling it “ketchup”, you may find it interesting that throughout the 1800’s, “catsup” was actually a more common spelling of the condiment–at least as represented in American cook books. There were many varied spellings, but things finally coalesced around “ketchup” once Heinz adopted that spelling around the turn of the 20th century. (Here’s more about the history of ketchup, if you’re interested!)

The biggest difference you’ll notice, is that like nearly all 1800’s tomato catsup recipes, this doesn’t call for sugar. All the sweetness is from the tomatoes themselves, with a little help from the wine and vinegar. This is a tangy, warmly-spiced condiment that would have been used primarily for meat, as well as for flavoring in some types of soup.

Depending on how hot your peppers are, this also may be much spicer than you might expect. All around, I love it as a more flavorful, less-sweet alternative to the modern versions. If you like condiments, this is one worth trying!

~ Anna

“ANOTHER CATSUP”
(retaining the color and flavor of the Fruit)

Skin and slice the tomatoes, and boil them an hour and a half. Then put to one gallon not strained, a quarter of an ounce of mace, the same of nutmegs and cloves, one handful of horseradish, two pods of red pepper, or a large teaspoonful of cayenne, and salt as you like it. Boil it away to three quarts, and then add a pint of wine and half a pint of vinegar. Bottle it, and leave the bottles open two or three days; then cork it tight. Make this catsup once, and you will wish to make it every year.
The Young Housekeeper’s Friend, 1859

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

1859 Catsup recipe — From The Young Housekeeper’s Friend, 1859, page 170. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

This recipe is about as straightforward as it gets, so I don’t have much to clarify for this one. Do use the freshest horseradish you can find, that’s my biggest exhortation here!

homemade catsup from an 1859 recipe — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Choosing Tomatoes

I’ve only made this recipe once, but I’ve made many a batch of other ketchup recipes over the years, and I can confidently say that the type of tomatoes you use does influence the flavor of the finished product.

Opt for vine-ripe heirlooms if you can find them. Flavorful tomatoes make the best sauces.

homemade catsup — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

That Horseradish

My own little horseradish plants are just getting started and were too small to use this year, so I ended up using store-bought horseradish root. It was woody, wizened, and had clearly been sitting around for heaven-only-knows how long. When tasting it, I definitely observed it had more bitterness than good fresh roots right out of the soil.

Perhaps unwisely, I used it anyway, mincing up “a handful”, of the peeled root to follow the recipe. To my taste, I feel this inferior horseradish added a hint of bitterness to the final ketchup that I don’t believe would have been there, if using good freshly-harvested stuff.

In the future, if I didn’t have excellent fresh horseradish root, I’d probably opt for using a jar of prepared horseradish with very minimal ingredients, instead.

Homemade catsup with fresh tomatoes and spices — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Storing This Recipe

When this cook book was published, tomato catsup was considered a shelf-stable condiment, to be kept in a cool pantry or cellar storage. The wine and vinegar don’t just add flavor, but their acidity aided in making this a food item that could be bottled and stored for the winter.

Not having a modern safety-tested canning recipe equivalent to this one, I personally decided to err on the side of caution and store my bottles of ketchup in the fridge. I’ll also be sharing bottles of it with family and friends. This really is good stuff, so it definitely won’t be making it through the winter!

Many thanks to all who voted in last week’s poll about which yeast recipe we should try. 90.5% of you voted for potato, with 9.5% opting for hops. Potato it is! I’ve got a great potato yeast recipe I’m looking forward to sharing later in the week, and then the baking can commence.

We’ve had a lot of food preservation recipes lately, and “putting up” would have been high-priority for any country housewife of the era. Thanks for bearing with me, as I’m putting up my own harvest, and have been focussing so heavily on this type of recipes! As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Catsup (1859)

The 3-alarm condiment you didn't know you were missing. "Make this catsup once, and you will wish to make it every year." From The Young Housekeeper's Friend, 1859

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Prep Time: 15

Cook Time: 2 30

Ingredients

7 quarts tomatoes, peeled and sliced
¼ ounce mace
¼ ounce cloves
¼ ounce nutmeg
⅓ cup horseradish
2 red peppers (hot) (or large teaspoon cayenne)
salt to taste (I used about 2 tsp)
1 pint wine
½ pint vinegar (apple cider vinegar is a good choice)

Instructions

Skin and slice the tomatoes, and boil them an hour and a half.
Then put to one gallon not strained, a quarter of an ounce of mace, the same of nutmegs and cloves, one handful of horseradish, two pods of red pepper, or a large teaspoonful of cayenne, and salt as you like it.
Boil it away to three quarts, and then add a pint of wine and half a pint of vinegar.
Bottle it, and leave the bottles open two or three days; then cork it tight.
Make this catsup once, and you will wish to make it every year.

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If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

September 10, 2024 Jams

Mrs. Hale’s Peach Marmalade (1873)

This brightly flavored peach marmalade is just perfectly sweetened, with a wonderful hint of lemon.

Dear friends ~

The other day, my sweet neighbors from down the road showed up to bestow me with three big boxes full of gorgeous peaches from their trees. Good neighbors really are better than gold, aren’t they?

Here’s the cool thing. The lovely “gentleman’s farm” they bought a few years ago used to be owned by dear friends of mine who also used to pop by with surprise bounty–including peaches from those same trees. How I mourned when they put that house up for sale…so sad for the loss of such dear neighbors. Who knew the wonderful retired couple that bought it would become cherished friends as well. Life is so often full of the best surprises.

That lovely load of peaches was just asking to be turned into something special, so I grabbed Mrs. Hale’s 1873 cookbook, and followed her instructions for Peach Marmalade. In case you are wondering, this is the same Sarah Josepha Hale who was editor of Godey’s Lady’ Book, and campaigned so tirelessly for the establishment of Thanksgiving as a national holiday.

Her cook book is one of my favorites from that decade, and this marmalade recipe is a keeper. In my opinion, the generous dose of lemon is what really makes it, brightening the flavor and keeping it from being “just” another jar of jam.

It’s lovely, and well worth a try, if it’s still peach season where you are!

~ Anna

a jar of peach marmalade with bread and wooden spoons — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

PEACH MARMALADE
The fruit for this preserve, which is a very delicious one, should be finely flavored, and quite ripe, though perfectly sound. Pare, stone, weigh, and boil it quickly for three-quarters of an hour, and do not fail to stir it often during the time; draw it from the fire, and mix with it 10 ounces of well-refined sugar, rolled or beaten to powder, for each pound of the peaches; clear it carefully from scum, and boil it briskly for 5 minutes; throw in the strained juice of 1 or 2 goodlemons; continue the boiling for 3 minutes only, and pour out the marmalade. Two minutes after the sugar is stirred to the fruit, add the blanched kernels of part of the peaches.

Peaches, stoned and pared, 4lbs.: three-quarters of an hour. Sugar, 2 ½ lbs.; 2 minutes. Blanched peach-kernels; 3 minutes. Juice of 2 small lemons; 3 minutes.
Obs.–This jam, like most others, is improved by pressing the fruit through a sieve after it has been partially boiled. Nothing can be finer than its flavor, which would be injured by adding the sugar at first; and a larger proportion renders it cloyingly sweet. Nectarines and peaches mixed, make an admirable preserve.
Sarah Hale’s New Cook Book, 1873

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

A recipe for peach marmalade in an 1873 cook book — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

a recipe for peach marmalade in an old cook book — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

What I absolutely adore about this recipe, is how precise Mrs. Hale was with her timing. Three minutes for this step, two minutes for that step…

In fact, I was so focused on conscientiously adhering to the timing, that I don’t have a single process photo from actually making this marmalade. (Forget the camera, there’s a timer to watch!)

She’s so precise, it doesn’t leave much need for process notes, either, but here are a few of my observations that might help if you give it a go.

an antique colander full of peaches — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Boiling the fruit

Many modern recipes have you add a little liquid of some sort to the fruit when it’s first starting to boil, so that it doesn’t scorch. And many jams call for adding the sugar immediately along with the fruit, which also seems to speed up the process of ending up with enough juiciness in the pot that one doesn’t need to worry about scorching.

Since this recipe goes straight to boiling the fruit, no sugar added yet, I started the pot over quite low heat until the peaches began to get juicy, and I felt I could slowly increase the temperature, until the whole lovely mass was boiling. It doesn’t take long, but do keep a close eye at the beginning, and stir often, as the instructions say.

I didn’t start timing the 45 minutes of boil time until it had reached a good boil, and this timing worked well.

Peach marmalade in a glass jar — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Those blanched kernels

This made me think of my grandmother. When I was a child we had a peach tree, and while canning the peaches with my mother, I remember her talking about how “they used to say to put a few peach stones in each jar…”

I don’t remember much more about it than that, but I do remember her talking about this being how it used to be done.

The way I went about it was to put a little pot of water on to boil, while the peaches were simmering, and once it was at a full boil, put several handfuls of the peach kernels in to boil. Once they’d started to lighten in color, after a few minutes, I removed them to keep ready until the right moment for adding them.

an antique ladle full of peach stones — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Putting the fruit through a sieve

I don’t have a strong sieve, but wanted to at least approximate the results of following this step in her “Observe” note, at the end of the recipe.

To do this, I put the boiled peaches through my old Foley food mill, then returned them to pot to finish boiling. None of the fruit was lost to the food mill, since the peaches were already pitted and peeled before boiling, so the volume stayed the same.

The hot peach pulp was nicely smoothed out after going through the mill, and I can definitely see why this is a step she encouraged, for a nice smooth marmalade.

glass jelly jars full of peach marmalade — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What about canning this recipe?

The right answer here is that you should only can modern, safety-tested recipes, like those from the Ball Blue Book, and the National Center for Home Food Preservation.

The long and honest answer is that I did end up canning this marmalade, and here’s why I personally felt comfortable doing that, in this particular case:

The proportion of sugar to peaches is significantly less than the peach jam recipe in my Ball Blue Book, but of course much greater than in the “no sugar” peach jam recipe printed in the same book. The amount of lemon juice in this marmalade recipe is actually greater than the amount added in either of those recipes, which is included to ensure enough acidity for safe canning. Both recipes called for the same canning process–10 minutes in a boiling-water canner. So this 10 minute boiling-water processing is what what I used.

I did remove the peach kernels from the jars I processed for shelf storage, not wanting that to be a variable. For the jars headed straight to my fridge for more immediate enjoyment, I left those lovely peach kernels right in.

To be clear though, please don’t let me sway you on issues of food safety here, nor encourage you to can a recipe that was written long before modern canning safety standards were established.

How much marmalade does this recipe make?

I should have written this down immediately, because I gave away several of these jars almost before they’d cooled. I believe this recipe (as she has it written based on 4lbs of peaches), made just a little less than 9 half-pints. Note to self: replace the notepad that belongs in the kitchen.

As always, feel free to send me an email anytime, with recipe requests! Cherry cordial and cottage pudding folks…I see you, I’m just a little behind catching up with my replies, but we’ll definitely add those to the list! ‘Til next time, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Sarah Hale’s Peach Marmalade (1873)

This brightly flavored peach marmalade is just perfectly sweetened, with a wonderful hint of lemon.

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Ingredients

4 lbs peaches, stoned and pared
2½ lbs sugar
2 small lemons

Instructions

The fruit for this preserve, which is a very delicious one, should be finely flavored, and quite ripe, though perfectly sound. Pare, stone, weigh, and boil it quickly for three-quarters of an hour, and do not fail to stir it often during the time;
draw it from the fire, and mix with it 10 ounces of well-refined sugar, rolled or beaten to powder, for each pound of the peaches;
clear it carefully from scum, and boil it briskly for 5 minutes;
throw in the strained juice of 1 or 2 good lemons;
continue boiling for 3 minutes only, and pour out the marmalade.
Two minutes after the sugar is stirred to the fruit, add the blanched kernels of part of the peaches.

Notes

Peaches, stoned and pared, 4lbs.:three-quarters of an hour. Sugar, 2 ½lbs.; 2 minutes. Blanched peach-kernels; 3 minutes. Juice of 2 small lemons; 3 minutes. Obs.–This jam like most others, is improved by pressing the fruit through a sieve after it has been partially boiled. Other can be finer than its flavor, which would be injured by adding the sugar at first; and a larger proportion renders it cloyingly sweet. Nectarines and peach mixed, make an admirable preserve.

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

August 12, 2024 Drinks

Lemonade (1881)

This 1800’s lemonade recipe is just perfection. The brightness of the lemons shines through, and it’s plenty sweet without being overpowering. Since trying it, this has become my go-to lemonade recipe.

Hey there, friends.

It’s good to be back. I’ve missed this over the last few days.

Turns out those -20 something temps can really do some things to one’s plumbing. We have running water again (thank you Dad!) and are warm and well. But my oven decided this was a good moment to join the freeze-killed washing machine in taking early retirement, and I’ve needed a couple days to re-group.

Neat thing about all this 1800’s homemaking research. It keeps a body grateful. So many of the notes in these recipes contain vivid reminders of how good we really do have it.

For the next little bit, we’ll just focus on recipes that don’t involve baking, until I get this oven replaced. And you know? That’s really ok.

Let’s make some lemonade.

1800's recipe for lemonade — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

an old recipe for lemonade — Lemonade, from Practical Housekeeping, 1881. Page 143. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

HOW MUCH IS A TEA-CUP?

In most reference guides to 1800’s measurements that I’ve seen, a “tea-cup” is generally considered to be ¾ of a cup, or 6 ounces.

That said, I’ve seen at least one place that suggests as low as ⅔ cup. And this clipping (photo below) pinned inside a well-used 1882 cookbook says that “two teacups (level) of granulated sugar weigh one pound”…which would be 8 ounces, rather than 6.

Although interestingly, toward the bottom of the clipping, it also says that “one teacup holds one gill”…which is generally a liquid measure, but at least a well defined one: ¼ pint, or 4 ounces.

an 1800's chart of volume equivalents — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

So there is definitely a little room for interpretation.

In general, I’ve found that using the 6 ounce, or ¾ cup, measurement works well and usually seems to give the intended result. So that’s what I went with for this recipe.

BEFORE YOU MAKE THIS (delicious!) RECIPE:

Sharpen your knife. One does not roll a lemon well, and then slice it thinly, using a dull knife.

I tried two different knives before trading them in for one that hadn’t logged any use since being very well-sharpened. That extra-sharp edge made all the difference. Slicing a well-rolled lemon thinly is a lot like asking for wafer-thin slices of heirloom tomato when it’s dead-ripe, straight from the garden, and still warm from the August sun. A sharp blade is a must.

Tomorrow, we’re making mayonnaise from an 1868 recipe. I’m to beat it by hand with a wooden spoon. (Any bets on how long this will take?)
‘Til then, ~ Anna

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive full recipes with cooking notes straight to your inbox!

📖 Recipe

Lemonade (1881)

This delicious lemonade recipe is absolute perfection! From Practical Housekeeping, 1881

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Servings:

Calories: 150kcal

Ingredients

6 lemons
12 ounces sugar
1 gallon water
10 ounces ice

Instructions

Roll six lemons well,
slice thin in an earthen vessel,
put over them two tea-cups white sugar; let stand fifteen minutes,
add one gallon water and lumps of ice,
pour into pitcher and serve.

Notes

Some add soda after the glasses are filled, and stir rapidly for “sparkling lemonade.”

Nutrition

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

August 7, 2024 Jams

Mrs. Rundell’s Raspberry Jam (1859)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife newsletter. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive recipes and cooking notes straight to your inbox, 3x per week.

This 1859 recipe for raspberry jam is bright, delicious, and tastes like summer in a jar.

A few years ago, I planted a huge raspberry patch, in what used to be a little sheep pasture along one side of our yard. This year that berry patch has truly come into its own, and we are in raspberry heaven over here at the moment.

One of you lovely readers had requested to see a particular Naples Biscuits recipe featured here in the newsletter. Since it calls for jam, I thought what a lovely thing it would be, to make a batch of authentic 1800’s raspberry jam to use for it.

The jam recipe I settled on comes from Mrs. Rundell’s beloved tome, A New System of Domestic Cookery. First published in 1806, it’s widely considered to have been the most popular English cookery book, throughout the first half of that century.

It was widely reprinted, and went through many editions. The volume in my collection is from 1859, and it’s such a delightful little book.

This jam recipe does not disappoint. It’s everything you want it to be… brightly flavored, not fussy, quick to make, and tastes like summer. Hope you love it!

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

a recipe for raspberry jam in an old cookbook. — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

“Boiling Very Quickly” This recipe is just so easy and straightforward, there’s almost nothing here that begs clarification.

The one thing I’ll say is that finding the balance between “boiling very quickly” and scorching those gorgeous berries on the bottom of your “preserving-pan”, is all about the constant stirring.

Stir, stir, stir.

raspberry jam being stirred while cooking — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

About that juice getting “wasted” Of course what they mean here is that you’re going to simmer until the whole lovely mass cooks down, so that it’s getting thick and not very juicy anymore.

This is, to be sure, a bit subjective. I cooked mine until it was easy to see the bottom of the pot just for a moment, as I drew the wooden spoon through the mixture, before the remaining juice covered the bottom again. I was afraid I’d not cooked it quite dry enough, but once the jam was done, I realized those fears were unfounded. Don’t worry about cooking down all the juice, just cook until it’s reduced quite significantly.

1859 raspberry jam — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife

Is half an hour really enough?

Yes. If you start the timer once it begins to simmer again after adding the sugar, half an hour is perfect. You may be tempted to cook it longer, since it won’t seem very thick while it’s hot and simmering, but hold fast and follow the directions. That jam will thicken up beautifully as it cools.

Can you can this jam?

The right answer here is that you should only can modern, safety-tested recipes, like those from the Ball Blue Book, and the National Center for Home Food Preservation.

The long and honest answer is that I did end up canning the jam from this recipe, and here’s why I personally felt comfortable doing that, in this particular case:

The Ball Blue Book’s canning recipe for raspberry jam lists ingredient measurements in cups, (instead of the more precise measurement by weight that our 1859 recipe uses). Out of curiosity I measured the volume, in cups, of my 50 ounces of berries and 50 ounces of sugar, and found the ratio to be so close to that of the measurements listed in the Ball Blue Book recipe, that I felt comfortable canning this 1800’s recipe according to the 10 minute waterbath method prescribed by Ball.

The volume of my berries was just a fragment short of being in exact proportion with the Ball recipe, but if I’d crushed and measured them immediately after picking, instead of after they’d sat in a big bowl in my refrigerator over night, that same 50 ounces of berries would have more generously filled those measuring cups. (I do SO prefer the precision of measurement by weight, if you can’t tell.)

To be clear though, please don’t let me sway you on issues of food safety here, nor encourage you to can a recipe that was written long before modern canning safety standards were established.

homemade raspberry jam — Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

How much jam does this recipe make?

It all depends on the amount of berries and sugar you use. One day’s picking (after the kids ate their weight in berries for lunch) was 50 ounces, so I matched that with 50 ounces of sugar. This yielded just shy of 8 half-pint jars of beautiful jam.

Just a reminder that if you ever have a particular type of recipe you’d like to see here, just send me an email and I’ll try to find one. I’m always happy to hear from you!

📖 Recipe

Mrs. Rundell’s Raspberry Jam (1859)

A heavenly raspberry jam recipe from Mrs. Rundell's cook book, A New System of Domestic Cookery, 1859

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Servings:

Calories: 41kcal

Ingredients

3 lb raspberries
3 lb sugar

Instructions

Weigh equal quantities of fruit and sugar;
put the former into a preserving-pan, boil and break it, stir constantly, and let it boil very quickly.
When most of the juice is wasted, add the sugar, and simmer half an hour.
This way the jam is greatly superior in color and flavor to that which is made by putting the sugar in first.

Nutrition

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December 22, 2023 Eggs

Devilled Eggs (1877)

We’ve made some delicious recipes over the last few weeks. Composition Cake, really good Gingerbread, those ridiculously delicious little Lemon Snaps.

If you’d told me that Deviled Eggs of all things would end up on my list of favorite recipes from this project, I would have been dubious at best. But dear reader, these are just that delightful.

They’re a far cry from the sloshy Miracle Whip concoctions that graced many a church potluck table of my childhood. The tang of the vinegar, that hint of spice from the cayenne, the familiar warmth of the mustard…it all just works.

Next time I go to a church potluck, I’m bringing these.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

from Common Sense in the Household, 1877. Page 256 *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

This quick little recipe hardly needs notes, but here are a few comments on how I made it.

INGREDIENT AMOUNTS:

For six eggs, I found that 4 teaspoon of butter seemed needed to keep this from being too dry. For spices, I used ⅜ teaspoon cayenne, ¼ teaspoon mustard, and 1 teaspoon of apple cider vinegar. I loved it, and would enjoy these a little spicier if I weren’t sharing them with my kids.

THAT SALAD:

Not finding cresses to be had, “not even for ready money”, I went with a spring mix that had some nice texture to it. When adding the vinegar, salt, pepper, and sugar, I found that this whole thing works best if you toss the salad along with the accoutrements, to get it evenly and lightly coated. Then pile it on your serving tray.

à la COLUMBUS:

If that reference escapes you (and it did me at first), here’s what this is referring to. This pairs well with a quick read about Tesla’s Egg of Columbus exhibit at the world fair, because that’s fascinating too. (Although that exhibit wouldn’t come along until another 16 years after this cookbook was published.)

IS IT ‘DEVILED’ OR ‘DEVILLED’?

I’m going to quote the website, Grammarist on this one:

Deviled is the accepted spelling in the United States and Canada for an adjective describing food that is seasoned with horseradish, mustard, paprika or pepper to impart a strong flavor. In other English-speaking countries, the spelling is devilled.

This cookbook does seem to have a slightly more British vocabulary than some other American cook books of the same era. But also, perhaps the two spellings hadn’t yet diverged in the 1870’s. Interesting, isn’t it?

📖 Recipe

Devilled Eggs

From Common Sense in the Household, 1877

The tang of the vinegar, that hint of spice from the cayenne, the familiar warmth of the mustard…this bright and flavorful party dish is just delightful.

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Ingredients

6 eggs
4 teaspoon butter
⅜ teaspoon cayenne
¼ teaspoon mustard
1 teaspoon of apple cider vinegar
5 ounces cresses or mixed greens
for the greens: salt pepper, vinegar and sugar to taste

Instructions

"Boil six or eight eggs hard;
leave in cold water until they are cold;
cut in halves, slicing a bit off the bottoms to make them stand upright, à la Columbus.
Extract the yolks, and rub to a smooth paste with a very little melted butter, some cayenne pepper, a touch of mustard, and just a dash of vinegar.
Fill the hollowed whites with this, and send to table upon a bed of chopped cresses, seasoned with pepper, salt, vinegar, and a little sugar. The salad should be two inches thick, and an egg be served with a heaping tablespoonful of it. You may use lettuce or white cabbage instead of cresses."

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December 22, 2023 Condiments

Spice Salt (1885)

Dear Friends, I’m keeping it short again tonight, because I have a sick little one who needs her mom close.

Making up this spice salt while she napped today was such a pleasant little project, because the scents of all the spices mingling together are just so warming, body and soul. Plus, there’s really something a bit meditative about measuring out spices, and grinding them up by hand.

This is a much warmer, more exotic-feeling spice blend than what we tend to think of as “seasoned salt” today, and I’m thinking it’s likely to become one of my most reached-for spice blends.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

from Twenty-Five Cent Dinners, 1885. Page 19 Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

No cooking notes today…

It doesn’t get much more straightforward than measuring and combining spices, so I don’t think I have anything to offer in the way of clarification.

However, I did notice that the spices listed in the recipe add up to exactly 2 ounces. So when she says to use one ounce of salt for every 4 ounces of spice mix, that would be ½ ounce of salt to go with the quantity of spices listed.

By the way, you can print those spice labels, if you like.

I couldn’t help but make up some little spice labels when I was photographing the spice salt. So I thought I’d share those with you in case you’d like some for yourself.

You can download them here, and if you have any trouble, just shoot me a reply to this email and I’ll send them to you.

There’s a label for each spice included in the blend, as well as for the Spice Salt itself.

The font was created by a brilliant typeface artist right here in Maine, and is based on the handwriting of Abigail Adams–specifically her letters from the 1780’s and ’90s.

📖 Recipe

Spice Salt

Twenty-Five Cent Dinners for Families of Six, 1885

This warming spice blend is one you'll want on hand for savory dishes of all kinds.

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Calories: 9kcal

Ingredients

¼ ounce thyme
¼ ounce bay leaf
¼ ounce pepper
⅛ ounce marjoram
⅛ ounce cayenne
½ ounce ground cloves
½ ounce nutmeg
½ ounce salt

Instructions

"You can make this very nicely by drying, powdering and mixing by repeated siftings the following ingredients:

one quarter of an ounce each of powdered thyme,
bay-leaf, and
pepper;
one eighth of an ounce each of marjoram and
cayenne pepper,
one half of an ounce each of powdered clove and
nutmeg;
to every four ounces of this powder add one ounce of salt, and keep the mixture in an air-tight vessel. One ounce of it added to three pounds of stuffing, or forcemeat of any kind, makes a delicious seasoning.

Nutrition

Serving: 1g | Calories: 9kcal | Carbohydrates: 2g | Sodium: 277mg | Fiber: 1g

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December 22, 2023 Soups

Tomato Soup (1892)

Hello dear friends ~

I could live on this soup. Granted, it’s February in Maine, and living on soup might not be the craziest thing right now. But really, it is THAT good.

When it came to putting in the ham, I won’t deny that I did pause a moment. Dear reader, have you ever put ham into a pot of tomato soup? I surely hadn’t, and somehow it just seemed…wrong. But after eating this soup for lunch and dinner today, it won’t be the last time I start a batch of tomato soup with “a mess of turnips, carrots, and onions”…and a half pound of ham.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

from The Snow White Cook Book, 1892. Page 29 Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

How much is “a mess”?

One of the reasons I chose to feature this particular soup recipe, is because it uses that charming old turn of phrase. My paternal grandmother and her brother used this language (for example, to “pick a mess of coltsfoot greens”), and so did my maternal great-grandmother.

As Tipper, over at Blind Pig & The Acorn explains, “a mess” was generally considered to be an amount sufficient for a meal.

That rather leaves us on our own to decide how much onion, turnip, and carrot is sufficient here. I went with two medium carrots, two small onions, and two turnips about the size of tennis balls. (If all you have available is the huge rutabagas that are often called turnips, I’d go with half of one.)

What type of stock or liquor to use?

I really do think that any meat or bone broth would work just fine in this recipe. I used chicken broth, because that’s what I had on hand.

What if you don’t have a big sieve?

I don’t either. Pressing the soup through a colander with a wooden spoon would be a pretty authentic method though. (See this illustration below from Miss Parloa’s New Cook Book, which mentions using a colander for straining soup).

Descriptions of Kitchen Furnishings, from Miss Parloa’s New Cook Book, 1881 *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

Perhaps it was cheating a bit, but I used my circa 1940’s Foley food mill.

Why do we associate grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup?

(Not a cooking note, but something I wondered, and thought you might too.) The ever-helpful Food Timeline website does a lovely job of drawing that connection. In a word, school lunch. The fascinating timeline is definitely worth a read.

📖 Recipe

Tomato Soup

The Snow White Cook Book, 1892

This heavenly tomato soup recipe is just waiting for grilled cheese sandwiches to be invented.

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Calories: 174kcal

Ingredients

2 carrots
2 small onions
2 small turnips about tennis ball sized
1 stalk of celery
8 ounces chopped ham
1 tablespoon butter
2 quarts chicken broth or other stock
8-10 ripe tomatoes
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

"Tomato soup is a much relished American dish, and is prepared as follows:

Steam, or rather stew slowly, a mess of turnips, carrots, and onions, and also a stalk of celery, with half a pound of lean ham and a little bit of fresh butter over a slow fire for an hour or so.
Then add two quarts of diluted stock or of other liquor in which meat has been boiled, and also eight or ten ripe tomatoes.
Stew the whole for an hour and a half, then pass through the sieve into the pan again;
add a little pepper and salt, boil for ten minutes and serve hot."

Nutrition

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December 22, 2023 Cakes & Cookies

Hermit Cookies (1894)

So…Hermits. Were you expecting dark, molasses-y cookies, spiced with cinnamon, and studded with raisins? Until recently, that’s what I’d have expected too. That’s the type of “old fashioned” hermits I grew up with.

Interestingly, none of the oldest hermit recipes I’ve found call for molasses. They’re made with sugar (like Miss Parloa’s recipe from 1881), or brown sugar (like today’s recipe from 1894.)

Spices and raisins you can count on though. Another little thing of interest is that all of the early hermit recipes call for not just stoning, but chopping, the raisins. What a fascinating thing to watch recipes evolve with the decades, isn’t it?

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

from The Century Cook Book, 1894. Page 135 Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

A FEW COOKING NOTES THAT MAY HELP:

OVEN TEMPERATURE:

I used 375°F for baking these, and found that it worked well. (A quick oven would be about 400-425 or a little higher)

SPICES:

These are not a very sweet cookie, so I found myself wanting to go a little heavier on the spices. One teaspoon of cinnamon, one teaspoon of nutmeg, and half a teaspoon of cloves is what I used, and felt they were nicely spicy without being overpowering. (It’s also a similar amount to the two teaspoons of spice called for in Miss Parloa’s contemporary recipe, which is a little sweeter.)

HOW MUCH FLOUR TO USE:

The short answer, I felt that about 2 ½ cups worked well, with extra for rolling.

Long answer: I struggled with this, trying everything from barely-stiff-enough-to-roll, to pretty stiff. In one ear, I was hearing the advice of one of these cookbook authors (I am SO sorry I’ve misplaced which one), that the trick with cookies and cakes that are “rolled upon the board” is to use as much flour as is needed to roll without sticking, and not a speck more. In the other ear, I was comparing this with other similar recipes that used as much as 5-6 cups of flour. After experimenting a bit, I found that about 2 ½ cups gave a cookie that rose and didn’t sharply hold it’s shape, while also not spreading much. They also had crispy edges while keeping a center that remained slightly soft, when the edges were brown and centers were set.

BAKING TIME:

I cut my cookies about 1.25″ square, and at that size they took 6-7 minutes.

If you make these, I’d love to hear how they turn out for you!

📖 Recipe

Hermits

The Century Cook Book, 1894

Soft and comforting little hermit cookies, perfectly spiced.

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Calories: 126kcal

Ingredients

1 cup butter
1 ½ cups brown sugar
3 eggs
1 cup seedless chopped raisins
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
½ teaspoon cloves
2 ½ cups flour

Instructions

Preheat oven to 375F.
Beat together buter and sugar
Add eggs, and baking powder dissolved in milk. Stir well.
Add flour, and spices. Stir until well mixed.
Roll about ¼" thick, and cut into squares.
Bake 6-7 minutes, or until centers are just set.

Nutrition

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December 21, 2023 Condiments

Mayonnaise (1868)

There are some things in life you do just once.

Polar bear dipping in January. Eating raw conch off the dive boat. Making mayonnaise by hand with a wooden spoon.

You know, in the end, it only took me 47 minutes to make this genuinely divine mayonnaise by hand. But dear reader…that was my third try. I broke the first two.

All in all, I spent just under two hours beating egg yolks and oil today, and let me just say that I feel it.

This recipe really does make a bright and delicious mayonnaise, though, and it’s truly well worth making. If you give it a go by hand, check out today’s cooking notes, which hopefully might save you those first two tries.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Thought I’d include the whole page today…so many interesting sauces! From Warne’s Model Cookery and Housekeeping Book, 1868 *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

HOW MUCH IS A SPOONFUL?

In this recipe, I feel pretty confident that she is referring to a salt-spoon, which would be ¼ teaspoon.

This is the amount I used, and it makes a wonderfully bright and well-flavored mayonnaise.

WHAT KIND OF “SALAD OIL” TO USE:

Generally, olive oil was the choice for salad dressings. It’s common in old cook books for olive oil to be referred to as “salad oil” or “sweet oil”.

Several of the Mayonnaise recipes in my other 1800’s cook books specify olive oil, and none of them specify another specific type, so olive oil is what I went with.

HOW MUCH OIL TO USE?

I used 1¼ cups of olive oil, total. It would also have been a lovely mayonnaise, had I stopped at 1 cup–so anywhere in there is a good amount to plan on.

HOW MUCH OIL TO START WITH?

THIS was the part the messed me up the first two times. I put in about ¼ cup of oil for the initial beating with the egg yolks, like so many of the blender or food processor methods call for these days.

This did not work with beating by hand. I ended up with broken emulsions on my first two attempts.

What ended up working for me, was beating the yolks alone until they were slightly lighter in color, then adding two teaspoons of oil, and fully incorporating that before adding more. Then adding just a teaspoon at a time of the oil (all the while beating away as though your life depends upon it), until all of a sudden things start to change and you’ve got a lighter, thicker mixture that is clearly “working”.

WHEN TO START PUTTING IN LEMON JUICE

On my second attempt, I rushed putting in the lemon juice. Because of the wording “as soon as the oil and eggs begin to mix”, it felt like there was some urgency. But what ended up working for me was waiting to put any lemon juice in, until after I absolutely knew I had a good emulsion, once the mixture was unmistakably lighter and thicker.

📖 Recipe

Mayonnaise Sauce

Warne's Model Cookery and Housekeeping Book, 1868

This classic mayonnaise is bright and flavorful–everything you want in a vintage "salad dressing".

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Calories: 105kcal

Ingredients

2 egg yolks
1 lemon
1 ¼ cups olive oil
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
¼ teaspoon sugar

Instructions

"Yolks of two eggs; one lemon; salad oil; one spoonful of pepper; one spoonful of salt; same of moist sugar. A Mayonnaise is simply a French dressing for salad."
Mix the yolks of two or three eggs with the pepper and salt;
then work together with them the salad oil; mix it so thoroughly that it may appear a perfect cream.
Keep by your side a lemon cut in two.
As soon as the oil and eggs begin to mix, squeeze in the lemon juice, add more oil, drop by drop, then more lemon juice, till the mixture is finished. Add the oil by degrees, not all at once. Let it be a perfect cream before you use it.
Use a wooden spoon, and mix in a cool place.

Nutrition

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December 21, 2023 Cakes & Cookies

Coffee Cake (1887)

The snow is coming down heavily again, and it feels good to have a fire going in the woodstove. A nice slice of cake, a hot cup of Earl Grey, and a new library book are calling to me, and I’m feeling grateful to be hunkered in for a peaceful winter’s night.

The cake in question is a coffee cake, baked from the 1887 White House Cook Book.

I’ve made this a couple of times now, under the guise of “oven temperature research”, and it really is tasty. Not, perhaps, quite as memorable as the Composition Cake we made last week. But still a pleasant little loaf that’s not too sweet, just spicy enough, and begs to be served with hot coffee or tea.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Coffee Cake, from The White House Cook Book, 1887. Page 264 *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

A Few Cooking Notes:

I really did have to make this one a couple of times to nail the oven temperature and pan type. An hour is rather a long baking time, and the White House Cook Book cake recipes tend to require baking in a pretty moderate oven–so finding the right combination of temperature and pan depth was a fun little challenge.

OVEN TEMPERATURE:

I found that 330° F seemed to be the right temperature for this cake. No matter the pan I used, 350° made the hour-long recommended baking time excessive. You’ll know the cake is done when the center is well set, and a toothpick (or broom straw if you’d like to be authentic) comes out clean.

WHAT PAN TO USE:

This recipe seems meant to be a deep cake, and what worked best for me was making this in a loaf pan, which wasn’t uncommon for 1800’s cakes. It’s still lovely when made in shallower pans, but keep in mind that you’ll need to reduce the baking time. Whatever pan you use, grease it well.

FLOUR.

If you’re not sifting your flour (and of course we really don’t need to these days), I do suggest fluffing it before measuring, and using a very light hand when measuring it out. You don’t don’t want a bit more than the recipe calls for.

FROSTING.

The recipe doesn’t specify that it should be frosted, but frosting cakes of this type was pretty common in this era. Most of the cake recipes in The White House Cook Book don’t contain notes about frosting, yet there are abundant frosting recipes offered. So I felt I wasn’t going out on too much of a limb to frost this. I used just the most basic frosting recipe at the beginning of the frosting section:

From The White House Cook Book, 1887. Page 253. Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

CONSISTENCY.

This is a thick, thick batter. It is not your usual cake batter consistency, 1800’s or otherwise. And once you’ve followed the instructions, it’s tempting to suspect you’ve done something wrong.

“Surely a cake batter this thick won’t turn out”, you’ll likely be thinking. (Seriously, it’s like spreading gingerbread cookie dough in a pan and hoping for cake.)

But don’t be dismayed. It does rise, and comes out just fine.(Do leave that oven shut, until toward the end when you’re checking for done-ness though!).

And while it’s a definitely a cake with a dryer texture, I appreciate that the level of sweetness isn’t overwhelming, and that the flavors of the spices and raisins are able to really shine through. I’d love to hear what you think, if you make this!

The snow is coming down thick and fast out there now. If the power holds, tomorrow’s recipe will be for Washington Omelet, from 1881.

If we do lose power (it is rural Maine after all), I’ll be polishing up my top-of-the-woodstove coffee making skills, and will see you on the other side. ‘Til then, Anna

📖 Recipe

Coffee Cake

The White House Cook Book
1887

A slightly dry 1800's coffee cake recipe that really lets the spices and raisins shine through.

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Calories: 255kcal

Ingredients

1 cup brown sugar
1 cup butter
2 eggs
½ cup molasses
1 cup strong cold coffee
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon cloves
1 cup raisins or currants
5 cups flour

Instructions

"One cup of brown sugar, one cup of butter, two eggs, one-half cup of molasses, one cup of strong, cold coffee, one teaspoonful of soda, two teaspoonfuls of cinnamon, one teaspoonful of cloves, one cup of raisins or currants, and five cups of sifted flour.
Add the fruit last, rubbed in a little of the flour. Bake about one hour. "
Preheat oven to 330° F. Grease a loaf pan, or small bundt pan.
Beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
Stir in eggs, molasses, and coffee.
Add flour, spices, and soda. Stir until well mixed.
Add raisins or currants, and still until well incorporated.
Spread into the prepared pan. Bake 1 hour, or until center is set.
Cool, and frost if desired.

Nutrition

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December 21, 2023 Eggs

Washington Omelet (1881)

For someone who grew up dreading quiche night, I am surprisingly smitten with this 1881 recipe that’s an awful lot like…fried quiche.

It’s one of those quick and easy dishes that could equally suit any meal of the day, from breakfast to supper. Some of these nineteenth century recipes are ones I may only make a few times, but this one’s going on the regular weekly meal rotation. Hope you love it too!

Here’s a picture of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

from Practical Housekeeping, 1881. Page 150. *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

Cooking Notes:

This is such an easy dish, notes hardly seem needed on this one. Don’t skimp on that butter, and do have the skillet hot before you put in the egg mixture. That’s really about it!

It does take a patient hand turning the squares of omelet after they’ve been cut, and I hope I’m not the first cook to cheat by removing a few edge sections to make this easier. It worked well to have a little more maneuvering space, then quickly fry up the removed pieces after the rest of the omelet is done.

Also, this is not authentic in any way, so do forgive the anachronistic serving idea...but these heavenly little squares of omelet are sturdy enough to hold up to some wonderful toppings. This recipe is already on my meal plan for dinner one night next week, and I’m dreaming about pairing it with smoked salmon, crème fraîche, and bits of fresh chives.

Just a reminder that if you ever have a particular type of recipe you’d like to see here, just send me an email and I’ll try to find one. I’m always happy to hear from you!

📖 Recipe

Washington Omelet

Practical Housekeeping, 1881

This delicious egg dish works just as well for dinner as it does for breakfast.

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Calories: 180kcal

Ingredients

1 cup milk
1 cup bread crumbs
6 eggs
1 tablespoon butter
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

Let one tea-cup milk come to a boil,
pour it over one tea-cup bread-crumbs and let stand a few minutes.
Break six eggs into a bowl;
stir (not beat) till well mixed;
then add the milk and bread; mix;
season with salt and pepper and pour into a hot skillet, in which a large tablespoon of butter had been melted;
fry slowly, cut in squares, turn, fry to a delicate brown, and serve at once.
–Mrs. D. Buxton.

Nutrition

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December 21, 2023 Breads

Graham Gems (1887)

Earlier this week, while in our small town’s food co-op, I noticed a new product from my favorite local grain mill: graham flour.

Immediately, I knew which nineteenth century recipe I needed to try next. In the pages of almost every 1800’s cookbook, I’ve been noticing recipes for a type of breakfast muffin called “graham gems.” They’ve been calling to me.

The particular recipe I decided to try was from the 1887 White House Cookbook, and to be totally honest with you…I picked that one because it had more sugar than most graham gem recipes I’ve seen. (And as you’ll notice, that’s still not much!)

These mix up in five minutes, bake in fifteen, and are best eaten while they’re good and hot. Slather them with butter or something sweet like raspberry jam–they’re lovely either way!

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Graham Gem recipes numbers 1 & 2, The White House Cook Book, page 230 *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

A FEW BAKING NOTES:

Let’s talk about gem pans. These were usually cast iron, and made like a shallow muffin tin. If you’re lucky enough to have one, you want to grease it well, put it in the oven when you turn it on to pre-heat, and let it get good and hot before you put the batter in.

If you don’t have a gem pan, no worries. I’d suggest making these in a well-greased muffin pan, not pre-heating it (unless it’s cast iron), and filling the wells about half full. Don’t let not having a gem pan keep you from enjoying this recipe.

How much graham flour should you use?
I found that 4½ cups of graham flour made a batter that dropped nicely, and baked in exactly 15 minutes, like the recipe says. (I followed the instructions for the sweet milk version of “Graham Gems No. 2.”, and loved it.)

One egg or two?
I used two, and would definitely do the same again.

How hot should the oven be?
A hot oven in the 1800’s would have been in the 400-425° range. I went with 400, and with a thoroughly pre-heated gem pan, found that these cooked in exactly the fifteen minutes specified in the recipe.

How many gems does this make?
About 24. My gem pan makes 11 gems, and a half batch of this recipe fills each space with just a little extra batter left over. If you have one gem pan and mix up a full batch of batter, it actually works just fine to bake these in batches. Gems can be removed easily from the hot gem pan if it’s been well-greased, then you can return it to the oven for a few minutes to get good and hot again, before re-filling with the second half of the batter.

If you’d like to hear more about breakfast gems, and making this recipe, I made a video to go with this one. You can watch it right here:

As always, feel free to reply to this email or comment on the video to let me know if there’s a particular type of recipe you’d like to see featured here. I’ll see what I can do!

📖 Recipe

Graham Gems No.2

The White House Cook Book, 1887

This delicious breakfast muffin is really a must-try. Perfect with butter or jam, it's a delicious way to start the day!

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Calories: 119kcal

Ingredients

3 cups sour milk or see note
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon melted butter or lard
2 eggs
4 ½ cups graham flour

Instructions

Preheat oven to 400F. Thoroughly grease a cast iron gem pan, or muffin tin. If using a gem pan, pre-heat the gem pan while you prepare the batter.
Three cups of sour milk, one teaspoonful of soda, one of salt, one tablespoonful of brown sugar, one of melted lard or butter, one or two beaten eggs;
to the egg add the milk, then the sugar and salt, then the
Graham flour (with the soda mixed in), together with the lard or butter;
make a stiff batter, so that it will drop, not pour, from the spoon.
Have the gem-pans very hot, fill and bake fifteen minutes in a hot oven.
The same can be made of sweet milk, using three teaspoonfuls of baking powder instead of soda, and if you use sweet milk, put in no shortening. Excellent.
Muffins of all kinds should only be cut just around the edge, then pulled open with the fingers.

Notes

If using fresh milk instead of sour, substitute 1 tablespoon baking powder for the baking soda, and omit the butter or lard.

Nutrition

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December 21, 2023 Meat & Game

Father Adam (1885)

SO. Father Adam.

Is it an apple dish? A type of cake? “Father Adam” is actually an early twist on what most of us probably think of as Shepherd’s Pie. It was considered a family-pleasing use for leftover roast, and it’s another one of those great 1800’s comfort food dinners.

I can imagine nineteenth century children rejoicing at hearing it was “Father Adam” for dinner tonight. That’s how my kids feel about Shepherd’s Pie.

In fact, the night I made this, I told them we were having something like Shepherd’s Pie for dinner. You probably know how this went down.

When they discovered it was a vintage interloper with no green peas, the little knuckleheads begged for granola instead. (Just keeping things real over here). So it looks I’ll be eating Father Adam leftovers for lunch today, tomorrow…maybe the next day. And you know? I am totally ok with that.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

From Virginia Cookery Book, Page 101 (continued on page 102) Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

Father Adam recipe, continued. From Virginia Cookery Book, page 102 Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

I don’t have many cooking notes today, because this is a pretty straightforward recipe.

You do want to heed that advice to keep the heat gentle as the meat stews, because with the flour in there, it can be easy to burn on. But don’t be tempted to wait and put the flour in at the end, because that long stew time with the thickening is what gives it all a chance to develop that deep caramel color and depth of flavor. This is a lazy little recipe that doesn’t want to be rushed, and just works.

For the final browning in the oven, I found that about 20 minutes at 350°F did the trick.

Personally, I found “Father Adam” to be a much more interesting and satisfying dish than the modern version of Shepherd’s Pie, made with ground beef. Next time you’ve got roast leftovers, I heartily recommend this as a worthy way to use them.

📖 Recipe

Father Adam

Virginia Cookery Book, 1885

This classic comfort dish is reminiscent of Shepherd's Pie, and is a flavorful family favorite.

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Calories: 573kcal

Ingredients

For the meat filling

1.5 lb cooked beef
1 small sliced onion
2 T butter
Leftover gravy if available
salt and pepper to taste
1 T flour

New Group

4 large potatoes
½ cup milk
2 T butter or to taste

Instructions

Whence the name came nobody knows, but the dish that bears it is one that is a favorite for common use with every family where it is known.
When you have a cold roast of beef cut off as much as will half fill a baking-dish suited to the size of your family;
put this sliced beef into a stewpan with any gravy that you may have also saved, a lump of butter, a bit of sliced onion, and a seasoning of pepper and salt, with
enough water to make plenty of gravy;
thicken it, too, by dredging in a
tablespoonful of flour;
cover it up on the fire, where it may stew
gently, but not be in danger of burning.
Meanwhile there must be boiled a
sufficient quantity of potatoes to fill up your baking-dish after the stewed meat has been transferred to it. The potatoes must be boiled done, mashed smooth, and beaten up with milk and butter, as if they were to be served alone, and placed in a thick layer on top of the meat.
Place the dish in an oven, and let it remain there long enough to be brown. There should be a goodly quantity of gravy left with the beef, that the dish be not dry and tasteless.
Serve with it tomato sauce, Worcestershire sauce, or any other kind that you prefer.
A good, plain dish.

Notes

To finish, bake 20 minutes at 350F.

Nutrition

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December 16, 2023 Fish

Scalloped Fish (1887)

An absolutely delicious 1880’s recipe for scalloped fish. Perfect comfort food for cold weather!

Hi friends,

I’d originally intended to share a recipe for fish fritters today. But upon more closely examining the recipe within its context, I realized that particular recipe was really written for leftover salt fish, not leftover fresh fish–which is what I had on hand.

And if we’re going to recreate 1800’s recipes, we’re going to do it right.

SO, instead I’m sharing an absolutely delicious recipe for “Scalloped Fish”.

This dish is what red flannel hash is to corned beef, what chicken pie is to roast chicken, and what thick-sliced turkey sandwiches are to a turkey dinner.

It’s the kind of frugal recipe that coaxes you to enjoy re-mixed leftovers, even more than you did the original meal.

Hope you enjoy it as much as much as I did!

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife. From New England Cook Book, 1887. Page 20

COOKING NOTES:

This is really a pretty well-detailed recipe, so not much feels needed in the way of notes today. For the fish I used leftover fresh cod, and baked this in large ramekins at 350° F.

25-30 minutes was just about right for getting those bread crumbs good and toasty on top.

To my taste, the optional red pepper was just lovely in this, and I definitely vouch in favor of including it. I also recommend having a liberal hand when strewing those “bits of butter” in the final step.

📖 Recipe

Scalloped Fish

New England Cook Book, 1887

An absolutely delicious 1880's recipe for scalloped fish. Perfect comfort food for cold weather!

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Calories: 563kcal

Ingredients

1 lb fish
2 cups bread crumbs
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon pepper
½ teaspoon celery salt
⅛ teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon onion juice
⅛ teaspoon red pepper
2 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoon flour
1 cup water
½ cup bread crumbs
2 tablespoon butter

Instructions

Any cold fresh fish, or cold boiled salt codfish, must be pulled into fine flakes, carefully taking out skin and bones and dark parts;
mix in a bowl with equal quantity of bread or cracker crumbs;
season with salt, pepper, celery-salt, a little nutmeg, a very little juice squeezed from a cut onion, and a very little red pepper if preferred;
moisten the mixture well with a gravy made of melted butter, flour, and hot water;
put into a baking-dish, cover with dry crumbs and thickly strewn bits of butter;
bake till brown.
This is a pretty dish for supper, baked in small tin or earthen shells, or in the great sea-clam shells found on the ocean shore, or in the blue crockery dishes that are sold for such purposes. Serve very hot. –Mrs. Rose Terry Cooke. (By per. Pub. of Good Housekeeping.)"

Nutrition

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December 16, 2023 Vegetables

Asparagus on Toast (1877)

A classic 1800’s recipe for boiled, scraped asparagus.

Friends, I cringed when I scraped the asparagus. Then I could’ve sworn the timer was broken, as minutes lapsed in slow motion, until I could rescue the precious stalks from that boiling water. And then I winced again when I had to dip that beautiful toast into the asparagus water.

But then I ate every bite.

This is one of those recipes that reminds us how tastes change over the decades. Vegetables were generally very thoroughly cooked in the 1800’s. And for someone who’s been known to eat more than my share of the asparagus haul on the way from the garden to the kitchen…these vegetable recipes can challenge my modern sensibilities.

This whole project is challenging my modern sensibilities…and what a lovely thing that is.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife. From Common Sense in the Household, 1877. Page 226

Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife. Asparagus (boiled), continued.

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Scraping the asparagus
I found that using a sharp knife, and scraping from the base toward the tip worked best. It takes a gentle touch to do this without breaking the stalks, if they’re young and tender.

By the 8th stalk, I felt like I was finding my groove. There really is a difference between cooked asparagus that’s been scraped, vs. not scraped. So for the real 1800’s taste, this is a step you won’t want to skip, even if it seems like a waste.

Serving
This is a dish you absolutely want to serve hot, because that dampened toast is delicious while it’s steaming, and disappointing once it’s cooled. This is one of those meals where you want the table set, and the family gathered, before you take the asparagus out of the boiling water.

Butter
Use it liberally. In my opinion, it’s no mistake that she calls for buttering the bread, and also dotting butter over the asparagus. The butter really does bring the flavors all together.

📖 Recipe

Asparagus (boiled)

Common Sense in the Household, 1877

A classic 1800's recipe for boiled, scraped asparagus.

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Calories: 25kcal

Ingredients

1 lb fresh asparagus

Instructions

Cut your stalks of equal length, rejecting the woody or lower portions, and scraping the white part which remains.
Throw into cold water as you scrape them.
Tie in a bunch with soft strings–muslin or tape–and put into boiling water slightly salted. If very young and fresh, it is well to tie in a piece of coarse net to protect the tops.
Boil from twenty to forty minutes, according to the age.
Just before it is done, toast two or three slices of bread, cutting off the crust; dip in the asparagus liquor, butter, and lay in a hot dish.
When you take off the asparagus, drain, unbind the bundle, and heap it upon the toast, with bits of butter between the stalks."

Nutrition

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December 15, 2023 Soups

Beef Soup (1877)

A company-worthy beef soup, heartily flavored with warming spices, and the sweetness of onions and wine.

It’s an interesting thing, cooking through all these 1800’s cookbooks. Some were written for lower income families, while others were geared toward those of more means.

As I bounce back and forth between them, it’s impossible not to be struck by the sharp contrast between “economy” cooking, and richer fare. A few weeks ago, we learned to stretch a cup of lentils and a handful of vegetables into two quarts of main-dish soup, meant to feed a whole family.

Today, we’re creating a starter-course beef soup that calls for a pound of meat to every quart of water. And oh, the lovely spices that are lavished on this soup!

Both soups were meant to be made with time and care. And somehow, of all the foods we’ve made so far, it’s these soup recipes that are staying with me…making tangible the broad spectrum of what it meant to put good food on the table, in the 1800’s.

Today’s soup takes time, and it’s not economy food, by any stretch. But it is absolute heaven, and the sort of soup anyone would be proud to set in front of a guest. The warmth of the cloves, mace, and allspice…the sweetness of the onions and wine. Just perfection.

If you only ever try a handful of these recipes, I’d suggest this as one for the “must-try list”. It’s lovely.

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife. *From Common Sense in the Household, 1877. Page 37*

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

What cut of beef to use
Any inexpensive, lean cut of beef would work well here. If you use a cut that’s not fairly lean, you’ll want to trim the fat, or there will be rather a lot of fat to skim from the soup as it boils (and boils, and boils).

Does it really need to boil for three hours?
It does. I actually found that mine needed about an extra half hour, for the beef to really be falling to bits. This is not a soup you can rush.

Also, don’t skip caramelizing those onions before adding them. The brown sweetness of the pre-caramelized onions really is part of the magic in this simple, but SO flavorful soup.

What to do with the strained-off bits of beef and onion?
Once the soup is strained, you’re left with a pile of heavenly-smelling beef and onion “mush”. It’s not a huge pile, but enough to really do something with. I saved mine to use for the filling in individual little pot pies–something I think it’s going to be perfect for.

*The scraps that are left after straining the soup are heavenly–definitely something to use in another meal!* Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.

What would they have done with this in the 1800’s?
Please know that I am speculating here, but my hunch is that it’s likely these beef and onion leavings may have been used toward making a dish to furnish the servant’s table, if this soup were made for a family of means.

If, however, it was made as a special occasion soup by a housewife, I expect she would probably have used it similarly to other “leftover beef” recipes. For example, “beef hash”, which sometimes was formed into patties, dipped in egg and bread crumbs, and fried. Or, similar to what I’m doing, in a leftover meat pie.

About that sherry…
Keep in mind that our “sherry cooking wine” of today has added sodium and preservatives to make it shelf stable. It absolutely can help give the depth of flavor that really takes this recipe over the top, and can be used in the same proportion as the wine in the recipe–but don’t salt the soup to taste until after you’ve added it.

Need a non-alcoholic substitute? There are lots of recommended substitutes for sherry, but I think that in this recipe I’d probably try using about an once of good apple cider vinegar, or red wine vinegar.

How much wine is “a glass”?
Over the course of the 1800’s, the size of “a glass of wine” slowly increased from about 3.4 ounces, to about 5.4 ounces. There are many interesting articles that mention this shift, but this is one of my favoritesif you’d like to read more. I felt that using 4 ounces was a pretty safe bet here, and would use the same amount again.

📖 Recipe

Beef Soup (brown)

Common Sense in the Household, 1877

A company-worthy beef soup, heartily flavored with warming spices, and the sweetness of onions and wine.

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Course: Soups

Author: Common Sense in the Household, 1877

Ingredients

3 lbs. beef cut into strips
3 onions
3 qts. water
1 teaspoon cloves
½ teaspoon pepper
½ teaspoon mace
⅛ teaspoon allspice 1 pinch
1.5 cups celery
½ teaspoon marjoram or savory
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
salt to taste
4 ounces brown sherry or madeira

Instructions

Put beef and water into the saucepan and boil for one hour.
Meanwhile, slice the onions and fry them in butter to a light brown.
Drop into the pot with a teaspoonful of cloves, half as much pepper, same quantity of mace as pepper, a pinch of allspice, and a teaspoonful of essence of celery, if you cannot get a head of fresh celery; also half a teaspoonful of powdered savory or sweet marjoram, and a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce.
Stew all for two hours more, or until the beef has boiled to pieces.
Strain the soup and return to the fire.
Salt to taste, and just before taking it off, pour in a glass of brown sherry or Madeira wine.

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

December 14, 2023 Desserts

Chocolate Custard (1883)

Having fallen in love with the dark and bitter flavors of 1800’s drinking chocolate, I’ve been eager to try some other chocolate recipes.

Chocolate custard sounded delicious, so I chose this recipe from 1883. What a surprise to find it a very different flavor experience than the drinking chocolate I’ve come to love.

Where 1800’s hot chocolate carries a strong, full-bodied chocolate flavor, this custard is only mildly chocolatey. Where drinking chocolate tended toward a less-sweet, even bitter, flavor profile, this recipe is sweet beyond what I was prepared for.

Dear reader, I couldn’t finish eating mine.

I told myself when I started this project that I wouldn’t only share the recipes I loved. That any 1800’s recipe carefully re-created deserves its moment. Today, that moment belongs to this chocolate custard.

And my guess is that if you take sugar in your coffee, you may genuinely enjoy it more than I did!

Here is a picture of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Chocolate Custard, from The Appledore Cook Book, 1883. Page 167 *Photo Credit: The 1800’s Housewife.*

COOKING NOTES:

This is another easy little recipe, and it worked very well, following the instructions as written. I was delighted to find that the three minutes really was exactly how long it took this to cook.

What type of pan to use:

A double-boiler works very well, in place of the tin pail inside a kettle.

What chocolate to use:

An unsweetened, or barely sweetened, bar of chocolate would the right thing to use here. Regular unsweetened baker’s chocolate is a good choice, and if you happen to have unsweetened stone-ground chocolate available, that would be about as authentic as you can get.

{We talked at length about 1800’s chocolate when we made the drinking chocolate recipe a couple of weeks ago, so I won’t fully repeat the notes on choosing chocolate for re-creating nineteenth c. recipes as authentically as possible. But if you’d like, you can find those full notes here, along with that delicious hot chocolate recipe}.

📖 Recipe

Chocolate Custard

The Appledore Cook Book, 1883

A very sweet chocolate custard recipe.

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Calories: 185kcal

Ingredients

1 quart milk
1 ounce dark chocolate
1 cup sugar
6 eggs

Instructions

Set one quart of milk on to boil as before directed* (see note).
Scrape with a knife one ounce of nice chocolate, and mix with one heaping cup of sugar;
wet this with two spoonfuls of boiling milk;
work this into a paste with the back of the spoon, and stir into the boiling milk,
and then stir in six well-beaten eggs; stir three minutes,
and then strain.
Set in cold water and stir occasionally, until cold, then sir in two teaspoons of vanilla. Serve in glasses.

Notes

*Seems to be referencing this line in the "Soft Custard recipe, previous: "Put one quart of new milk into a tin pail, and set the pail into a kettle with boiling water"

Nutrition

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February 16, 2023 Desserts

Baked Pears (1881)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 16, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

Hi there, friends –

Today’s recipe is late coming to you, because I neglected to bookmark the particular recipe I intended to make and share, and could not find it again. “How many cookbooks from 1883 does the woman have?” You might ask. ONE. I have one.

Funny thing about 1800’s cookbooks. Even when they do have an index, these frequently are not exhaustive, containing just the “highlights” or recipes that presumably the editors thought might be most searched-for. And sometimes recipes get printed in sections one might not expect…for example, blackberry jam in the ‘remedies for invalids’ chapter.

This baked pears recipe is from 1881, and extremely similar to the one I’d planned to make. And along with it, I’m including something extra–a photo of the clipping that was used to bookmark the page with this recipe. Bookmarking recipes you don’t want to lose track of…what a great idea!

~ Anna

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

A few things I noticed when making this recipe…

Soft, ripe pears do well when baked with just a very small amount of water as called for in the recipe. If your pears are on the hard side, measuring that “tea-spoon or two of water” on the generous side, ends up being beneficial.

BAKING TEMPERATURE

Some 1800’s baked fruit recipes specify cooking them in a “slow” oven. So that was my approach when making this one. I used an oven temperature of 325°F. This worked really well, and resulted in perfectly-textured, sweet and soft pears, with an almost caramelized “syrup” in the bottom of the pan. This took about an hour and ten minutes for medium sized bartlett pears.

HOW TO KNOW WHEN THE PEARS ARE DONE?

Baked pears should be very soft, all the way through. Some other nineteenth century pear recipes specify that pear flesh should be translucent when they’re well cooked. I’ve found that pears seem to reach that perfectly-done stage when they still hold their shape (you don’t want them collapsing into mush), but a toothpick or skewer meets almost no resistance when inserted into one of the pears.

As promised, here’s a photo of the more-recent (but still old!) clipping that was used as a bookmarker in the page containing this recipe. You never know what you’re going to find tucked between the pages of an old cookbook!

Keep your eyes open tomorrow for our first ‘Tuesday tips’ email. I’ll be sharing some advice from 1832 on the health benefits of blackberries, as well as that “medicinal” blackberry jam recipe from 1845. Until tomorrow, ~ A

February 12, 2023 Cakes & Cookies

Soft Gingerbread (1856)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 13, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

Hey there, all –

Are my children the only ones who come home from school absolutely ravenous? No matter how full I pack their lunchboxes, those little ones could just about eat their way through half the pantry, it seems.

Yesterday I had this soft, delicious gingerbread ready to surprise them with, and wow, did they love it. It’s similar to Miss Parloa’s gingerbread recipe, but I slightly prefer the lighter texture of this one. It’s a keeper, for sure.

~ Anna

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

As with many 1800’s cookbooks, you’ll notice how some key pieces of information that we’re used to relying on, seem missing.

For example, “What temperature should the oven be? What type of pan should be used? Should it be greased?”

Here are a few suggestions that may be helpful if you make this (and I DO hope you make it, because it’s delicious!

Cooking Notes:

BAKING TEMPERATURE

Having made quite a lot of recipes from these nineteenth century cookbooks, I’ve found that gingerbread tends to be baked in a “medium quick” oven…so a little on the hot side.

I set my oven to 370°F when baking this, and felt the results were about perfect. You’ll know the gingerbread is done when the top just starts to darken, and a toothpick (or broom straw if you’d like to be authentic) comes out clean.

SALERATUS

The short answer here is that you can simply use common baking soda in place of the saleratus in this recipe. (Some suggest substituting each teaspoon of saleratus with 1¼ teaspoons of modern baking soda, others use equal measures. I used the 1¼ substitution for this recipe).

A longer answer is that about the time this cookbook was published, the products marketed as “Saleratus” were slowly changing over from potassium bicarbonate (still used as a baking soda alternative today), to sodium bicarbonate–today’s baking soda. Both are still in use for helping baked goods to rise. But it’s sodium bicarbonate that has become our modern kitchen staple, the leavening agent known as “baking soda.”

WHAT PAN TO USE

1800’s gingerbread was generally made like a thin cake, rather than a deep cake or loaf. Some contemporary recipes specify that the batter should be no more than an inch deep, and this seems to have been customary for baking soft gingerbread (as opposed to hard gingerbread which was very thin and well, hard.)

So choosing a large enough pan to allow you to make this like a sheet cake is a good choice. Definitely grease the baking pan well.

SCALING THIS RECIPE

This is a pretty generous recipe, suitable for a large family or church potluck. For a smaller family, it works really well to scale this recipe down, using ⅓ of all the listed ingredients. If you do this, it cooks very nicely in a 13×9″ pan, and takes about 20-22 minutes to bake.

Keep your eyes open tomorrow for a tasty hot chocolate recipe from 1877. With the snowstorm coming, a steaming cup of something delicious sounds like just what we might need! Until tomorrow, ~ A

February 11, 2023 Meat & Game

Fried Ham & Eggs (1890)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 15, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

Today’s recipe comes from The Compendium of Cookery and Reliable Recipes, published in 1890.

My dear Hattie,

In your last letter, you asked for some of my favorite breakfast dishes to make, wanting to vary the routine of your morning meals. It can be so easy to fall into habit, making the same dishes until you and everyone else grow a bit weary of them. I have certainly found that regularly trying something new can add such joy to daily life, for all members of the household.

I am enclosing for you a receipt for a dish that is the “very favorite” of my little Thomas. He would have this every day if he could have his wish. It is a simple and easy breakfast dish, but I have copied it exactly from “The Compendium of Cookery and Reliable Recipes”, which is one of the cook books I find myself reaching for most often.

photo of the original recipe, from the Compendium of Cookery and Reliable Recipes, page 99

Like you, I am already looking forward to spring, and dreaming of planting seeds and tending the gardens. The seeds that you will find enclosed are some I saved from the beautiful foxgloves that my neighbor, Martha, grows. I hope they bring you joy when the weather turns warm again.

Ever your loving cousin,
Florence Nelson

January 28, 2023 Drinks

Hot Chocolate (1877)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 14, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

Yesterday we got about 7 inches of heavy, early-morning snow, followed immediately by rain. The result, of course, was slushy, ankle-deep snow soup. I found that everything from feeding the ducks, to getting the car out of the driveway, ended up feeling an awful lot like one long, cold and wet, patience-building exercise.

How comforting to settle in at the end of that day, with a strong cup of this 1800’s “drinking chocolate”. Whether you’re a fellow New Englander slogging through snow soup, or one of our southern readers–you deserve this recipe as much I do, and I hope you enjoy it every bit as much!

Here’s a photo of the recipe as it appears in the cookbook, page 494:

If you’d like to make this recipe taste as close to a nineteenth century cup of chocolate as possible, it can be helpful to know a bit about the chocolate that was readily available in the 1800’s.

When this cookbook was written, the bar of chocolate used for a recipe like this would have been an unsweetened bar of “family chocolate”, often bought in a one-pound bar. At least one manufacturer, McCobb’s, sold their “plain chocolate” bar in a tin with a built-in grater. You can see one of these right now on eBay, which is kind of neat.

This wasn’t milk chocolate, which wasn’t widely available until about the turn of the century. And it wasn’t smooth, like we’re used to today, since the conching process that produces silky-smooth chocolate wasn’t invented until 1879. This would have been a bit of a grittier, dense-feeling chocolate.

So what kind of chocolate should you use to recreate this recipe? When I’m being intentional about choosing chocolate to most authentically recreate this, or other 1800’s drinking chocolate recipes, I buy the least-sweetened stone ground chocolate that I can get my hands on. Taza’s 95% Wicked Dark is a good bar for this.

Many folks opt to use unsweetened baker’s chocolate for re-creating vintage recipes, which has the benefit of being inexpensive and readily available. This also works great, and makes for a delicious cup of chocolate.

Because texture does play such a role, I personally feel that given the choice between an unsweetened but modern-smooth bar, or a barely-sweetened stone ground bar, the stone ground option is a closer approximation of what the average person would have been using for making hot chocolate in the mid-to-late 1800’s. (If you’d like a deeper dive into chocolate history from 1850-1900, this is one of the more thorough sites, and a very interesting read.)

How much sugar should you add? Like most chocolate recipes of the time, this is left totally up to personal preference. As Marion Harland says in the recipe, “sweeten to taste”. I find that about half a teaspoon in a 6 ounce cup of this hot chocolate is what I enjoy.

It’s worth keeping in mind that we go through a vastly greater amount of sugar per-person, in modern America, compared to what was used in the 1800’s. Chocolate was generally sweetened much less than what we’re now used to, and I’ve really come to enjoy it that way.

Keep your eyes open tomorrow for an 1800’s recipe for ham with eggs. Until then, Anna

January 26, 2023 Cakes & Cookies

Composition Cake (1892)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 18, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

This 1892 recipe for Composition Cake is lightly crackly on top, with a delicate crumb, and just the right combination of spices and raisins.

Composition Cake seems to have been, in many ways, a bit like today’s chocolate chip cookies. Every cookbook has a recipe for it, and they’re all a little different.

Let me tell you, this Composition Cake I made yesterday, from an 1892 recipe, deserves a country fair blue ribbon. It is just that good.

Slightly crackly on the top, a nice crumb throughout, and with a lovely combination of spices and raisins. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

As with many 1800’s cookbooks, you’ll notice how this recipe is missing some information that we’re used to relying on.

For example, “What temperature should the oven be? What type of pan should be used? Should it be greased?”

Here are a few suggestions that may be helpful if you make this recipe:

BAKING TEMPERATURE:

1800’s cake recipes rarely specify temperature, and when they do, it tends vary from “moderate” to “medium quick”. I went with a moderate 350°F for this recipe, and the result was lovely. You’ll know the cake is done when it’s golden brown, the center is set, and a toothpick (or broom straw if you’d like to be authentic) comes out clean. Baked in loaf pans at that temperature, my cake took exactly 45 minutes to bake.

MIXING THE BATTER:

I found it worked very well to beat the butter and sugar together, then add the eggs and milk, and finally the dry ingredients, which I’d already sifted together. Fold in the fruit after the batter is well mixed.

FRUIT:

Cake in the 1800’s very often included dried fruit. This was SO common, that many recipes assume you have your own preference for the amount and type of fruit you like in your cake, and that this could simply go without saying. Think, “season to taste.” The most common dried fruits used in cake were raisins, dried currants, and citron.

SPICES:

I used 1 teaspoon cinnamon, ½ teaspoon nutmeg, and ¼ teaspoon cloves. I thought this was pretty nearly perfection, but if you really love a spicy cake, you could bump those amounts up even more.

WHAT PAN TO USE:

Composition cake seems to have generally been made fairly deep, often in loaf pans. (As opposed to a thin cake like the gingerbread recipe we made last week). Two loaf pans works very well for this recipe. Grease those pans well.

Just a reminder that if you ever have a particular type of recipe you’d like to see here, just send me an email and I’ll try to find one. I’m always happy to hear from you! Until next time, Anna

📖 Recipe

Composition Cake (1892)

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Ingredients

5 cups flour
2 cups butter
3 cups sugar
one cup milk
5 eggs
1 teaspoon soda
2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 cup dried fruit raisins, currants, or citron
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon cloves

Instructions

"Five cups of flour, two cups of butter, three of sugar, one of milk, five eggs, one teaspoon of soda; two of cream of tartar, fruit as you please, cinnamon, nutmeg and clove to taste."

Notes

MODERN BAKING NOTES:

BAKING TEMPERATURE: 1800's cake recipes rarely specify temperature, and when they do, it tends vary from "moderate" to "medium quick". I went with a moderate 350°F for this recipe, and the result was lovely. You'll know the cake is done when it's golden brown, the center is set, and a toothpick (or broom straw if you'd like to be authentic) comes out clean. Baked in loaf pans at that temperature, my cake took exactly 45 minutes to bake.

MIXING THE BATTER:
I found it worked very well to beat the butter and sugar together, then add the eggs and milk, and finally the dry ingredients, which I'd already sifted together. Fold in the fruit after the batter is well mixed.

FRUIT:
Cake in the 1800's very often included dried fruit. This was SO common, that many recipes assume you have your own preference for the amount and type of fruit you like in your cake, and that this could simply go without saying. Think, "season to taste." The most common dried fruits used in cake were raisins, dried currants, and citron.

SPICES:
I used 1 teaspoon cinnamon, ½ teaspoon nutmeg, and ¼ teaspoon cloves. I thought this was pretty nearly perfection, but if you really love a spicy cake, you could bump those amounts up even more.

WHAT PAN TO USE:
Composition cake seems to have generally been made fairly deep, often in loaf pans. (As opposed to a thin cake like the gingerbread recipe we made last week). Two loaf pans works very well for this recipe. Grease those pans well.

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

January 22, 2023 Cakes & Cookies

Lemon Snaps (1881)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 22, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

Today’s recipe comes from Practical Housekeeping, published in 1881, by the Buckeye Publishing Company.

My dear Hattie –

Received your letter this week, and smiled to hear you so warmly remember the cookies I served, during your last visit to us. Was that really two months ago already?

With four little ones, I am often making cookies–usually jumbles. But since you mention the taste of lemon, I am sure it is Lemon Snaps that you remember so fondly. I am happy to share it with you, and have copied out the recipe, which you will find enclosed.

These are easy to make and keep well. Have your oven very hot, and be cautious not to add too much flour. I find that one cup plus two tablespoons, and a very little more for rolling, is enough. One tea-spoon lemon essence flavors them nicely.

This is from Practical Housekeeping, which I use more than probably any other cook book.

We roasted the last of the turkeys from last summer’s hatchings today. I had intended to save him for when Alice comes to visit next month, but the big fellow had chased poor Thomas so many times lately, that I decided that enough was enough. So we all enjoyed the special treat of an excellent turkey dinner. Thomas most of all, I think.

How exciting to read in your letter about your gardening plans for spring, now that you are at last settled in your own home and yard. Of course I would be more than happy to offer whatever little suggestions and tips may be helpful, as you make your plans.

Enclose a sketch with the layout of the house and yards in your next letter if you can, and I will be glad to help.

Ever your affectionate cousin,
Florence Nelson

From Practical Housekeeping, published in 1881. Page 98

Cookie-baking advice from the preceding page. Practical Housekeeping, page 97

MODERN BAKING NOTES:
Roll the dough thin, like pie crust–about ⅛ inch.
Bake on un-greased tins, at 420°, until golden brown around the edges.
5-6 minutes should do it!

Below is a printable version of the recipe. Hope you enjoy it! ~ Anna

📖 Recipe

Lemon Snaps, 1881

Print Recipe Pin Recipe Rate Recipe

Ingredients

1 ⅛ cup sugar
⅔ cup butter
½ teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoon hot water
1 ⅛ cup flour
1 teaspoon lemon extract

Instructions

"A large cup sugar, two-thirds cup butter, half tea-spoon soda dissolved in two tea-spoons hot water, flour enough to roll thin; flavor with lemon"

Notes

{MODERN BAKING NOTES: Roll the dough thin, like pie crust–about ⅛ inch. Bake on un-greased tins, at 420°, until golden brown around the edges. 5-6 minutes should do it!

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

January 12, 2023 Soups

Pea Soup (1887)

This post was originally published in the 1800’s Housewife daily newsletter, on January 12, 2023. Not on the mailing list? You can join here to receive the daily recipe and cooking notes straight to your email.

Here in Maine, it’s a snowy, frigid day, and this cozy pea soup is just the thing. (I actually made this a couple of days ago, and I’m relishing the last of the leftovers right now!)

This is frugal, hearty, 19th century eating at its best. Don’t be tempted to skip the stale-bread croutons, because oh my heavens–they are just so good! Hope you enjoy this delightful soup recipe as much as I have. ~ Anna

Pea Soup, from The New England Cookbook, 1887

PEA SOUP
“Use half a pint, or seven ounces, of dried pease (cost three cents), for every two quarts of soup you want. Put them in three quarts of cold water, after washing them well; bring them slowly to a boil;

add a bone, or a bit of ham, if you have it to spare, one turnip, and one carrot peeled, one onion stuck with three cloves (cost three cents), and simmer three hours, stirring occasionally to prevent burning; then pass the soup through a sieve with the aid of a potato-masher and if it shows any sign of settling stir into it one tablespoonful each of butter and flour mixed together dry (cost two cents); this will prevent settling;

meantime fry some dice of stale bread, about two slices, cut half an inch square, in hot fat, drain them on a sieve, and put them in the bottom of the soup-tureen in which the pea-soup is served; or cut some bits of very hard stale bread, or dry toast, to use instead of the fried bread.

By the time the soup is done, it will have boiled down to two quarts, and will be very thick and good. This receipt will cost you about ten cents. –Twenty-five-Cent Dinners: Miss Juliet Corson (By per. O. Judd Co., Pubs.)”

Photo of the recipe in the New England Cookbook, Page 9 (Recipe continued on page 10, photo below)

Below, you’ll find a printable copy of this recipe. I hope you enjoy it!

Keep your eyes open tomorrow for a lovely soft gingerbread recipe from 1856. We’re going with comfort food during this cold, snowy weather! ~ A

📖 Recipe

1887 PEA SOUP

Print Recipe Pin Recipe Rate Recipe

Prep Time: 10

Cook Time: 2

Total Time: 2 10

Servings:

Calories: 73kcal

Ingredients

7 ounces dried peas
3 quarts water
1 bone or bit of ham
1 turnip
1 carrot peeled
1 onion
3 whole cloves

Instructions

Use half a pint, or seven ounces, of dried pease (cost three cents), for
every two quarts of soup you want. Put them in three quarts of cold
water, after washing them well; bring them slowly to a boil;
add a bone, or a bit of ham, if you have it to spare, one turnip, and one carrot peeled,
one onion stuck with three cloves (cost three cents), and simmer three hours, stirring occasionally to prevent burning;
then pass the soup through a sieve with the aid of a potato-masher and
if it shows any sign of settling stir into it one tablespoonful each of
butter and flour mixed together dry (cost two cents); this will prevent
settling;
meantime fry some dice of stale bread, about two slices, cut half an
inch square, in hot fat, drain them on a sieve, and put them in the
bottom of the soup-tureen in which the pea-soup is served; or cut some
bits of very hard stale bread, or dry toast, to use instead of the fried
bread.
By the time the soup is done, it will have boiled down to two quarts,
and will be very thick and good. This receipt will cost you about ten
cents. –Twenty-five-Cent Dinners: Miss Juliet Corson (By per. O. Judd
Co., Pubs.)

Nutrition

Tried this recipe?Let us know how it was!

June 23, 2021 Gardening

Propagating Strawberry Plants

“Look how many, Mama! Look how many we found!”

Yesterday my children came running back from the strawberry patch with nearly a pint’s-worth of ruby-colored treasure, and they were so excited to show me. The strawberries are starting to ripen!

To my eyes, the strawberry bed is still a sea of green and white. But children’s sharp little eyes are filled with eagerness, and they have been watching the patch every day for the last week. The first of the berries truly are ripe, and the season promises to be a bountiful one.

Looking at the mounds of berry bushes, it’s so hard for me to believe that our whole lovely berry patch started with just three plants, and only last spring. What a wonderful miracle that some of our favorite plants are so easily and plentifully propagated!

For Christmas last year, I had received a copy of a book called The Small Fruit Culturalist, by Andrew S. Fuller. My husband had bought it for me, knowing how much I long to grow an abundant variety of fruits and vegetables in our own gardens.

Over the winter, I read the book several times over, and in the spring was able to procure three strong plants from an excellent variety of strawberries, which produce the most wonderful large and flavorful berries.

After preparing their bed with care, and following all instructions regarding planting, I was delighted to see the plants begin to grow and thrive. Hoping to eventually create a large strawberry bed, I fastidiously followed Mr. Fuller’s directions for propagating the plants:

The varieties mainly cultivated in this country are propagated from the runners. The first produced are usually the strongest and best for early planting, but those that are formed later in the season are equally as good when they arrive at the same age or size. A few theorists have maintained that the first plants formed near the parent stool were the only ones that should be used, and that they were far superior to the others, and would always be more prolific. This assertion is not supported by facts; consequently is not worthy of a moment’s thought. To insure the rooting of runners, the surface of the soil should be kept loose and open, and if the weather is very dry at the same time they are forming, it is well to go over the beds and cover the new roots as they are produced. When only a few very large and strong plants are wonted, it is well to pinch of the runner just beyond the first plant, that this may become strong and vigorous.

A good plan to insure the safe removal of runners after they are rooted, is to sink a pot filled with soil under each joint of the runner and let the roots strike into it. In two or three weeks, the pot may be lifted, and the runner separated from the parent plant. This is a tedious and expensive mode, and seldom necessary.

It often occurs when taking up plants in the fall that many of the small ones are not well rooted, and, if the variety is scarce and valuable, they may be worth saving. If so, cut off the runner close to the plant, and then dibble them close together either in the open ground or in a frame, shade them, and give plenty of water until they are rooted. If they do not produce sufficient roots before cold weather, then protect them, and they will usually form roots before wanted for planting in the spring.

The richer and better the soil, the more rapid will be the production of roots, whether in frames or the open ground.
I have found it to be a good plan to cover the entire surface of the soil with fine compost of pure manure before the runners start in spring.

The runners draw their sustenance from the parent plant until they have formed roots sufficient for self-support. It is therefore important that their roots shall find something to feed upon soon after they are emitted. If water can be liberally applied to the beds it will insure the emission of roots very rapidly.

All last summer, the children helped me to care for the new strawberry bed. Susanna took charge of keeping the bed well-weeded, while the boys kept it amply watered during the long dry spells we saw in mid-summer. Little Abigail was of course too small to be much help yet, but oversaw the efforts from the blanket I used to set her on, while the older children and I worked in the gardens.

During that first summer, I was delighted to see that many runners were produced by each plant, although there were very few berries. It was a joy to me that each of the four children were rewarded for their work by one large berry each, while Dr. Nelson and I happily shared a fifth. I promised us all that next year we would enjoy strawberries in much greater abundance.

But truthfully, even I could not guess at how beautifully those three plants would propagate, and how many berries we would truly have!

This summer I am continuing to follow Mr. Fuller’s propagation instructions, and am also trying his method of rooting some of the young runners into little pots, sunk into the soil. I am hoping to surprise my dear neighbor, Elizabeth, with some healthy young plants as a “Thank You” for all those asparagus starts she blessed me with this spring!

June 13, 2021 Uncategorized

Feeding Young Turkeys

During the midwinter this year, my little Suzanna surprised me one night as she was saying her evening prayers.

At the end of her “now I lay me”, I heard an earnest whisper: “and dear God, would you please bring us some baby turkeys this year, and one of them that I can keep forever as my own that won’t get eaten? I would love it, and take such good care of it.”

Because this gentle little one so rarely asks for anything, (and the few times she has, the requests have been so small and sensible), her unusual prayer stayed with me.

I myself had thought more than once, that adding a few turkeys along with the chicken flock might be a prudent idea. So after a conversation with my husband, we decided to see what we could do about finding some young turkeys once the summer season came.

Just on the edges of town, we have a wonderful midwife who attends to many of the women here. In fact, she was with me when our little Susanna was born, 7 years ago. I knew that she kept turkeys, so decided to inquire with her.

Just this last week, dear Mrs. Westwood came by with a little basket–from which kept emerging the sweetest little peeping sounds. I could hardly contain myself, as I called Susanna over to peek under the cloth covering the basket, to see what was inside.

Baby turkeys! Four soft, little cheeping bundles of fluff.

While the children cuddled the precious little “darlings”, I listened and took notes on every bit of advice Mrs. Westwood could offer, about how to most successfully raise them.

Spying my bookshelf, she quickly spotted a particular volume, and pulled it out. “This book has a good little bit of advice about raising turkeys, and if you just follow this, you should be all right.”

The book was The Farm and Household Cyclopaedia, and it is one I refer to often. In fact, I had already read the section on turkeys so many times, I could probably recite it from memory. What a comfort to know that Mrs. Westwood, with all her many years of experience raising turkeys, agreed with its recommendations:

“The difficulty of raising turkeys is a serious drawback to the profits of the business, but the exercise of care will obviate the difficulty. At first, and for about six weeks, turkey chicks are very delicate, so much so that even a warm shower will finish them. If they can be kept alive for about two months, they begin to assume a more robust character, and will soon become the very hardiest of poultry. The chicks, therefore, should be provided with shelter, and the shed which furnishes this would be all the better if it had a wooden floor. The best feed for the first week is hard boiled eggs, mixed with minced dandelion. It is thought the dandelion serves to keep the bowels in order. At all events the young birds prefer dandelion to all other green food. At the end of the first week, add gradually to the boiled eggs bread crumbs and barley meal, constantly lessening the amount of egg until at the end of three weeks it may be entirely discontinued. Now give boiled potatoes as a part of the food, and a small portion of some small grain may be added, in fact making the food very much like that of other poultry. If fed in this way and kept dry, they will come along all right.”
~ THE FARM AND GARDEN CYCLOPAEDIA, 1888

Little Susannah has made it her special charge to prepare the boiled eggs and minced dandelion for the chicks. She often enlists her little brothers to help with gathering the dandelion for the mixture. They so capably undertake the task of keeping the young turkeys well fed, that I truly think they could feed a hundred chicks if we had them!

So far, the little ones seem strong and hearty, and are growing beautifully. We all find them to be the most charming little creatures, and I’m so glad that our little girl’s uncommon prayer provided the encouragement I needed to try raising them.

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A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Let’s talk about sour cream

How much flour to use?

Oven temperature​

How thick to roll the dough

Cookie size​

How long to bake these

📖 Recipe

Sugar Cookies (1877)

Ingredients

Instructions

Notes

Nutrition

Blackberry Cordial

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Getting that blackberry juice

Those muslin bags

“Best” brandy

📖 Recipe

Blackberry Cordial (1871)

Ingredients

Instructions

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

What kind of pan to use?

Chopping those raisins

Should you grease the pan?

Oven Temperature

How long to bake this?

What about icing?

📖 Recipe

Clove Cake (1877)

Ingredients

Notes

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Sourcing raw suet

Those bread crumbs

If you don’t have whole nutmegs

How much flour to use

Using a pudding mold

Boiling the pudding

Un-molding the pudding

The sauce

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

THE WHITE HOUSE COOK BOOK

By Mrs. F. L. Gilletteand Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House​1887

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Choosing your cranberries

How much water

Clean sugar

How much sugar to put in

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

How juice those onions?

How do you truss a goose?

What temperature should the oven be?

When is the goose done?

Another recipe, with bread stuffing

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

What cut of beef to use for this?

Those green tart apples

Sourcing raw suet

The currants

Sweet cider and boiled cider

Those nutmegs

Choosing the right size pot

Brandy and Madeira

Baking that pie.

How much does this recipe make?

If you liked this recipe, here are some others you may enjoy:

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

How much caraway seed to put in?

Mixing the dough

What temperature should the oven be?

How thick to roll the dough

How long to bake these?

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Salted or Unsalted Butter?

How much water?

How many pies does this make?

A FEW COOKING NOTES:

Oven temperature

Cookie size

By Mrs. F. L. Gillette
and Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House
1887

THE NEW ENGLAND ECONOMICAL HOUSEKEEPER
and Family Receipt Book

By Mrs. E. A. Howland
1845

By Mrs. F. L. Gillette
and Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House
1887

Should you grease the pan?

What kind of coffee?

How long to bake this?

How does this add up to two quarts?

What kind of lentils to use.

How much butter is “size of an egg”?

Indian Meal

What type of pan to use?

How long to bake these muffins?