I'm Looking for Corny

The year I turned three, my father died, some months before my actual birthday. That Christmas, there's a photo of the Christmas tree, surrounded with a lavish array of gifts that my mother probably couldn't afford.

One of the unwrapped gifts, the Important Gift, was an Easy-Bake Oven. It was Tiffany blue, or turquoise, and it figured largely in my life for the next several years. I used it to bake my first apple pie (I moved on from the provided mixes soon enough), when I was five. That's when I found out that pastry requires fat, and apples for a pie need sugar, even sweet apples.

I've been cooking and baking for as long as I can remember. It's an urge I inherited from my father, whom I don't remember. Mom would tell us that Daddy was a gourmet cook, but that he would make a wreck of her kitchen. She was a good plain cook, but she didn't really enjoy it, and she grew up in the 40s and 50s; she liked pre-packaged things; scalloped potatoes from a box, Bisquick, and so on. I didn't cook with fresh garlic until I was in college and decided to buy some for the lasagne I was making. I don't think I've used dried garlic since.

Food--especially if someone you know prepares it--is so much more than fuel. It's love, and yes, I know that's a bit corny, but I don't particularly care; as Kate Winslet's character, Iris, says in the film The Holiday, "I like corny. I'm looking for corny in my life."

We could all use a bit of that in these mad times. COVID-19, personal difficulties brought on by the pandemic, or those made so much worse...loneliness, or being driven half-mad because the people with whom you live who are never not there these days--everyday life is more difficult than usual...we all need something comforting.

So we cook, and bake, and make jellies, and jams and chutneys and bread, and cakes and ice cream and cookies, and pickles and pies, even if we have no one else with whom to share them. We'd still like to share them, and while standing in the kitchen, we daydream about putting these things in front of friends and family, and imagine their responses...we plan a picnic, though all the usual events which encompass picnics are off for the present.

Food and cooking and baking are love. Long-live corny!

The Violets That Bloom in the Spring

The squirrels are extra destructive this year. They have already destroyed the seed potatoes I just set out. And today we had snow.

But a couple of days ago I made violet syrup. I've meant to make it for years, it's supposed to be very good for coughs. And I like violets. And the taste of violets.

Here's one of the uses I put it to...a violet daiquiri. In fact, you could certainly use it for any cocktail that requires simple syrup, so long as the violet taste wouldn't clash with other ingredients.

Unfortunately, the violets I have are the American variety; just as beautiful as English violets, but they have no scent and little taste. Luckily, I have violet essence (extract); I ordered some from England several years ago.

So I have finally made violet syrup, and now it's available for cocktails and for use as a medicine. I also hope to pick more violets and leaves in order to make violet tea; again, very good for coughs. And violets contain a great deal of Vitamin C. The leaves, especially when young and tender, are excellent for salads, and they can be eaten in quantity. All through the warmer months I treat them like cut-and-come-again salad greens.

Violet Syrup

violets
violet leaves
boiling water
sugar
lemon juice
violet essence
vodka or gin
_________________________________________________________

Pick several cups of violets and violet leaves. If necessary, rinse them gently.

Pack into a quart canning jar, and cover with boiling water; cover, and leave for 24 hours.

The next day, strain out the liquid. For every cup of liquid, measure out two cups of granulated sugar.

Put the strained liquid into the top of a double boiler. (If you do not have one, a mixing bowl over a pot large enough to hold it will do nicely. Don't let the water in the bottom pot touch the surface of the bowl).

When the water in the pot begins to simmer, begin to slowly add the sugar, stirring as you go. If it looks very cloudy, slow down. When it clears again, add more sugar. Do this until all of the sugar has been dissolved in the liquid, which will probably a celadon green.

If you would prefer a violet color, add a few drops of lemon juice; this will change the Ph of the solution, and so, the color.

Strain through a fine strainer lined with cheesecloth. Add about 1 teaspoon of spirits to every two cups of the solution, and a drop or two of violet essence. Taste as you go; the essence can be overwhelming if over-used.

I put some into a bottle for the fridge, to have easy access for cocktails and such. I canned the remainder, so as to have it for coughs or to replenish the cocktail supply.

I used jelly jars, and processed the jars for 25 minutes, as the solution is not acidic.

1931 in 2020...Pullovers and Plans and Possibilities

It's 2020--and I'm still knitting for the 20th Century. Which, I imagine, I will be doing for the rest of my life.

This time, it's a May 1931 pullover, found in Madame Weigel's Journal of Fashion. Some years ago, I had a pen pal (pen friend) on Ravelry, a woman from New Zealand. She very kindly sent me the most wonderful old pattern booklets--things that had belonged to an aunt of hers, I believe. They originated in Australia.

I  still have all of them, and my favorites, of course, are the ones from the 1920s and 1930s. This pullover is utterly classic, and even the most modern of 2020 eyes (pun intended) wouldn't see it as odd. It's going to look wonderful, I hope, with a good number of my skirts. The yarn is a 3-ply, rescued from a thrift (charity, op-shop) sweater; two plies of hunter green, one of navy blue. Shetland yarn, my favorite. It's even likely to coordinate with my treasured green jodphurs. Unfortunately, I cannot get the color to show up properly.

It will, I hope, have at least a few outings, tweed outings...rambles and such, as well as being worn more for the city, as in the original photo. That's the plan. I miss my friends greatly.

From start to finish, not including sewing up, it took about 2.5 weeks. It's a hip-length pullover, with pockets and long sleeves...on #4 (American) needles. Staying up till all hours has a silver lining, I suppose.

I hope to do the sewing-up this week.

It was a lot of "mindless knitting", the kind I love. Perfect for keeping the needles clicking along while listening to a radio play (thanks, Auntie Beeb!) or music, or even while reading a book on Kindle or watching a show or film.

In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I just ordered enough new Shetland yarn from WEBS to make another sweater...maybe even the same one again. This time, the yarn is a heathered lilac, very light in color.

The Sourdough Chronicles: Sourdough Crumpets

The sourdough starter is finally getting to where it ought to be, in part due to the "sourdough yeast" that was the only yeast option at the grocery store this week. It contains rye, which attracts more wild yeast than all-purpose (plain) flour. It also contains dead sourdough and live commercial yeast.

I've found another wonderful means for using up the discards, and this is also a keeper; again, I find the sourdough version superior to the ordinary variety.

Yesterday I made sourdough crumpets. They have great flavor, smaller holes, and a more pleasant texture (I find that commercial crumpets are on the rubbery side).

This sourdough crumpet recipe from King Arthur Flour (again) is the one I used. It's simple and quick, and I ate three of the four yesterday! The last one was devoured today.

This is the dough at work; it doesn't take any time at all to become bubbly and ready to cook.

It's best to fill the rings with a heaping 1/4 cup of batter, as noted in the recipe, so that they will be thick enough to be split and toasted.

Four to a batch. The last two turned out best, as I under-filled the rings on the first go-round.

Split, toasted, and topped with sweet butter, kosher salt, and homemade crab apple jelly, these are a welcome treat for teatime or any other time, as far as I'm concerned. 

Making the most of what you can get: roast chicken

"Oh, wasn't WWII romantic?! Make do and mend, everyone pulling together, bomb shelters..."

Think about it, folks; this was during a WORLD WAR--though people working together to make the best of things is pretty wonderful.

We're not the East End during the Blitz, and there's not a blackout. But we must keep our distance, literally, in order to stay safe. And there's a world-wide epidemic, and life as we know it has ground to a halt.

We can't, however, have a sing song (sing-along) in an air raid shelter, or get together for a party using whatever bits of luxury items we can scrape up (read Berlin Diaries, by Marie (Missie) Vassiltchikov for a very good look at life in wartime).

There is a real similarity, however, and that's making do with what you can find at the markets. Not so much that supplies aren't there--we're not in the midst, of real rationing--but the supply chain has quite a few over-strained or missing links at the moment.

A friend has gone to make a grocery run today, and she texted me, "I got you a chicken!" (I didn't add the exclamation mark...that was hers.)

Now, I've been musing for about a week on what I would do if I did get a chicken. I had decided on a whole one, if possible, because it's more useful--bones for stock, and all that.

I'm partial to a roast chicken, but a stock made with raw bones is superior to one made with a carcass from a bird that's already been cooked, so I decided on a compromise. I'm going to spatchcock it (cut out the backbone and smash it flat). This way it will cook more quickly and evenly, and I'll have some raw bone for the stock. I am also planning on removing the wings before it's roasted, and reserving those for the stock.

So: roast chicken. Probably with gravy, mashed potatoes, and mixed veg. I might even make myself some Yorkshire pudding to go along with it.

That leaves me cold chicken and leftover mashed potatoes. I could make a chicken pot pie, or a chicken pie topped with mash(ed potatoes). If I go with the first, leftover mashed potatoes could become soup, potato pancakes, or potato candy (not very likely!).

I could have cold chicken sandwiches (I've got sourdough starter going, and I can always make another loaf of soda bread); I like them with plenty of mayonnaise, a thin slice of raw onion, and kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.

There's chicken hash...I could use raw cubed potato, plenty of onion, and a bit of bell pepper (must remember to save the seeds for planting).

Chicken salad would be great, too.

Part of the fun of cooking is being creative. Instead of considering leftovers a hassle, I prefer to look at them as building blocks for my next creation.

Cooking in Quarantine

Now, if you're feeling the way most people seem to be feeling these days, you'll think Tommy there has the right idea. (I can't deny that I've joined him a time or two.)

But if there's one thing the appreciation for a vintage lifestyle can do for you, it's knowledge of how to make the most of what you've got: from reading the history to making the vintage things you own live long past their projected lifetimes.

I collect cookbooks. When I say collect...well. I have 12 shelves of cookbooks. This doesn't take into consideration the ones piled on top of already full shelves, or the ones piled on my bedside table. Or the ones in the living room, or the Christmas cookbooks tucked under the armoire, or...you get the picture. 

Make do, make do and mend. Whether it's about just being thrifty because it's "moral" or you don't want to drive to town more than once a month, or you're in the midst of a depression, or--again, lots of reasons and prompts.

What it boils down to is this: you can do it. With, surprisingly, the things you might otherwise have thrown out or dismissed. 

Take this for an example. I've been working on making sourdough starter*, absolutely from scratch; I haven't used the stuff for decades, since I baked bread when living in Virginia (because, in the late 1980s, there was very little Italian, French, or artisanal bread available for sale in any part of the South). Yeast breads are not high on my list of Stuff That's Fun To Bake...but needs must, and all that. I got pretty good at it, some 25 years ago or so.

Well, my starter is coming along, but not as quickly as it might. I don't have any commercial yeast around to give it a kick in the pants, and I don't have any wholewheat (wholemeal) flour (which attracts wild yeast more readily), so it's going slowly. I'm on day 5, and it's not much of a sponge when I check on it. 

The best way to get things going, in the absence of what I've mentioned above is discarding some starter, and "feeding" it with another dose of flour and water (50-50 proportions by weight). I don't like to waste things, especially food, at any time, so I looked up recipes for using discarded starter. King Arthur Flour's website to the rescue--I found a smallish recipe for a savory sourdough pancake recipe. I cut it in half and went my merry way. Didn't add the recommended corn and green onion, because I didn't have the onion, and my garlic chives aren't up yet. 

That being the case, I thought about maple syrup (I still have plenty) or jelly and lemon. I looked in the fridge and found the remains of a jar of heavenly jam** (peaches, rind and juice of an orange, Maraschino cherries) that had set too hard. I'm a Yankee (or cheap, if you prefer!) and just couldn't toss the batch. I also didn't feel like adding water and re-making it, so I've been using it for jam cake, once it's suitably diluted to the correct consistency.

I combined the jam--about 3 tablespoons--with about the same amount of water and simmered it until it looked right. When it was slightly cooled, I added a splash of quince-lemon brandy. 

We have a winner! I like pancakes, but I don't love them; I've never been one to choose them over something really bad for me, like corned beef hash and rye toast dripping with butter (and homemade jelly), but they're okay. My usual complaint is that they're just too heavy. I've made good pancakes for years--they're quick and thrifty, and you can ring all kinds of changes on them, but this time, I'm enthusiastic. These things are delicious; light, not exactly tangy, but without the overwhelming sweetness even unsweetened pancakes sometimes have (to my taste buds). 

Besides--they're even more thrifty than bog-standard pancakes. Ding!

I'll be making these again.

*There's a lot of information about sourdough starters available online. Check the King Arthur site for a beginning, and just keep asking Dr. Google. You'll get there.

**If anyone wants the recipe, speak up in the comments. I'll write a post about it.

Using the Larder

The 1930s were a time of thrift--the Depression hit hard, and people learned to make do, and do away with the wasteful habits of the Edwardians and the time of the Roaring 20s. The apple peels became apple jelly, orange and other citrus peels were turned into candy (if you had enough sugar on hand), and scraps and leftover bones from a roast ended up as soup or stock--those are just a few examples. (And yes, I've done all of those things. Very useful).

I've got a pantry (pretty well crammed with pickles, relishes, chutneys, jellies, jams, marmalades, salsa, and a few other homemade things, as well as some canned and dried goods). I also have a small chest freezer--but not a larder. The house is 1929, not 1829. Still, the freezer stands in nicely for a larder. My fridge is tiny--a 1933 GE Monitor Top. It keeps foods fresh for a very long time, more successfully than any modern one I've owned. But the freezer can only be used if the fridge temperature as a whole is turned way up, so enter the chest freezer in the cellar.

The freezer is so useful, though...for freezing leftovers so that they can be eaten when the original meal is only a faint memory, for saving garden produce, sugared flowers, meat I bought on sale, and more.

It can also get away from you. Just before Christmas, I found myself throwing out my prized Friendly's Celebration [ice cream] Roll, the first I've had in 20 years at least, because there simply wasn't room for Christmas cookies, and I bake those in quantity.

In the last month or so I have been steadily beginning to work at using up the contents of the freezer. And that's freed up space for the lamb chili (made with the frozen ground lamb I bought a couple of weeks ago) and more useful frozen veg (peas, mixed corn/peas/carrots) and similar things. 

The lamb chili was great; I had it for dinner the day I made it, and the following day, for lunch. The rest is frozen. I had some homemade chicken pot pie that had been there for a while but was still excellent. Today I've made duck leg ragu (or ragout, if you prefer). Homemade duck stock, a duck leg and fresh veg: carrots, parsnips, and onion. I'll add frozen peas at the very end.

I've noticed some beach plums...which provide me with several options: beach plum gin, beach plum jam,  or beach plum chutney.

There's some lamb sausage still waiting for inspiration...possibly I'll make potato moussaka. There might even be a small chicken in there somewhere, in which case a real Sunday lunch (English style) might be coming my way soon, including Yorkshire pudding and lashings of gravy.

To Be HA, or not to be (HA), is that the question?

There's a new film version of Little Women. It was one of the most favored books in our house, growing up. My sister and I practically passed it back and forth; it's a wonder we didn't read it to bits.

I haven't read it in years (my sister has our childhood copy), but it exercised a great influence on me...though to this day I still can't like The Pickwick Papers or Paradise Lost.

The new movie has a spectacularly good cast. I don't know about the script, but there are lots of indicators to say that it's going to be a worthy film.

I haven't seen it, and don't think I'm going to go.

The reason will sound snarky, self-righteous, snobbish...pick your own label. But here it is: the costuming, make-up and hair are not HA (historically accurate). I am not claiming to be an expert on the (American) Civil War period costuming, but I have a better than average knowledge of the styles of the time.

All artistic endeavors have a budget limit, and it's fun to play a bit with costuming; I get that, I used to be an actor, and I dabbled in costuming as well.

This production, however--judging from the stills I've seen--has the look of a 1950s prom. Garish colors were very correct for the era (not that the March sisters could afford such things, normally, even for a dance), but the hair--down, for [adults] women? No. Not unless you're a crowned princess (or a prostitute). And the drape of polyester is apparent on screen or stage--yes, that really is snobbish of me, as natural fabrics, sadly, are far more expensive.

It's the reason that, as much as I love the films of old Hollywood, I avoid literary adaptations from that time like the plague. 1920s costumed as 1950s;  1830s and 1840s designs for productions supposed to be set in the Regency--and other changes--leave me annoyed, not enchanted.

These kinds of productions, especially in film, yank me right out of the world that is supposed to be holding me in.

I see blue eye shadow on a Regency heroine and think, "What? NO--not even on Lydia!" Unless, of course, the story has been transported to the 1970s. Then it fits.

Shakespeare didn't care, anachronism suited him and his audience. And I have liked many a theatre production transported to a more modern stage, so long as the director doesn't try to claim that it's still set in the original time period.

The Fantastic Beasts films put the muggles/no-maj characters in correct look of the period; the magical folk seem, mostly, to dress about 10 years into the future. It's a way to set them apart visually, and it works.

I probably should go to see the movie, of course. It's no bad thing, reining in snobbishness. You do miss out if you give in to it.

Violet Cream Scones

Time to get back into the swing of things...or the roar, or whatever it is that will become a catch phrase for 2020.

I woke up this morning realizing that I wanted to make scones, so here you are. Just one of my regular scone recipes--but I added a few drops of violet essence (flavoring) and sprinkled crushed candied violets over the tops after brushing them with light cream before baking.

The violet essence I was able to order online. The candied violets were purchased in England. It's getting progressively difficult to buy food from other countries, even safe items like candied flowers (sugar is a preservative), but it can be done, if you're willing to pay. These days, you'll find more French options than English.

Then again, if you're like me, and violet is one of your favorite flavors...well...I make violet flavored sugar mice at Christmas.

The scone recipe:

Cream Scones                                                                                               
Bake at 425 F for 15-20 minutes

2 c. all purpose flour
1/4 t. salt
2 t. sugar
2 t. baking powder
4 T cold butter, diced
1/2 c. heavy cream + 2 T
few drops violet essence (optional)
4 candied violets, crushed (optional)

Pre-heat the oven.

Stir together the flour, salt, baking powder, and sugar. Add the butter and toss with the flour; smear it into the flour until the mixture looks shaggy.

Add the violet essence to the cream and stir; pour most of it into the flour mixture and stir gently with a fork until just blended. Add the rest of the cream only if necessary.

Gently pat the dough into a round, slightly higher in the center. Cut into quarters and cut each quarter into thirds or halves.

Cover a no-side cookie sheet with a sheet of parchment and place the scones on top; make sure that they are spaced well apart. Brush the tops with leftover cream and sprinkle with the crushed candied violets.

Bake at 325 F for 15-20 minutes, or until well-risen and beginning to get golden around the edges.

Allow to cool for several minutes before serving. The photo at the top shows mine with clotted cream and lemon curd, but lots of other toppings (butter, jam, jelly, marmalade...or none at all) are good, too.

Don't forget a pot of tea or a few cups of good coffee!

Art Deco Diva Cooks...Still

It's been a particularly long time. Three years (one whole post in 2017), so does that count? I'm not sure.

However, I am finally back on to the cookbook. Working title: "Art Deco Diva Cooks:   20th Century Cooking and Homemaking for the 21st Century".

There's something to be said for an old fashioned paper copy, even if it is scribbled by hand and in a clunky binder. There it is, and no amount of power outages or viruses will erase it.

Right now I'm back at the very beginning; yesterday I finished typing out the chapter pages and am well into the cocktails section of Beverages.

Getting it into something I can manipulate easily is the first step. Then it's onto deciding for certain on the recipes, and then there's asking people to help me test, and working out photos, and researching agents, and--oh, lots more.

But it really is a new beginning, and that's a good thing.

If any of you have a particular fondness for something I make, please feel free to ask me to include it. Chances are that it will already be on the list, but not necessarily, as this rough draft was compiled some time ago, and I keep adding new things to my cooking repertoire.

Fa Sing

On February 5, 2017, Fa Sing died. He was a bluepoint Siamese cat, 10 years and 8 months old, and the most joyous, devoted, attentive cat I've ever known.

I've had a lot of cats--more than 20--and he stands out in a way that startles. From the first time I met him, he answered to his name. He was only two months old, and we were visiting the cattery to see him and his brother (Than Chai, whom we still have). Fa Sing means Blue Lion, and it was clearly his secret cat name.

He had an enlarged heart, and I mean in every way. He was opinionated, but so forgiving. When our rescue attacked and injured him, he still treated Shadow kindly, and even played with him (his brother, however, never forgave Shadow for attacking Brother).

Fa Sing was with me most of the time, and if I left he met me at the door, and told me all about his day. He followed me, "helped" me drink my coffee in the morning, and slept in my arms every night. If I turned over, he crept over my shoulder and nestled back in on the new side.

He leapt up to ride on my shoulders, let me drape yarn all over him while I was knitting, and even woke me a time or two when I was having a nightmare.

I couldn't save him, but at least we were able to keep him alive about a  year after he was diagnosed, and in the last months of his life I was lucky enough to spend whole days cuddling him and comforting him.

Missing him is still taking over my life in part, and it hurts. It hurts a lot. But it wouldn't be this painful if knowing him had been less wonderful. That silvery, little, pointed face with its wide blue eyes will live in my heart forever.

Of Cranberry Marmalade and Christmas Martinis

For the first time in several years, I made cranberry marmalade. It's good, but there are so many possibilities when you get on a binge with canning, and this one fell out of rotation for a few years.

 

 

Most people like the flavor, if they are marmalade fans, and it's undeniably Christmassy; it makes a good gift. It's great on toast, swirled into yogurt, or used as a relish. Try it over a block of softened cream cheese; serve with crackers.

 

 

I make mine a trifle more bitter and tart than most, as I use not only lemon and orange, but grapefruit, for the citrus elements.

 

 

As you can see below, scissors can be used to sliver the peel. I like a serrated knife for trimming away excess pith.

 

 

 

 

Here it is not long after being put on the stove; most of the berries will have burst by the time it's ready for processing.

The processed jars. I let them sit overnight. In the morning, I check the seals, wash the jars and lids, and make sure they are completely dry before adding labels.



A Christmas martini.

 The final product. I got eleven full jars, and another about 2/3 full, which went into the fridge. I had some this morning. We were out of bread, so I had it on a buttered crumpet.

Let the Baking Begin! (Not to mention the canning).

For Thanksgiving, I made one of my very favorite desserts: a cranberry tart with a polenta crust. It's divine, especially with a cloud of freshly whipped cream, barely sweetened with a bit of powdered sugar and a dash of vanilla.

I changed the corn syrup to Lyle's Golden Syrup, but otherwise it's about the same as the printed recipe.

Cranberry (Polenta) Tart

This is crisp and bright in flavor, a nice change from some of the very sweet desserts more traditional at Thanksgiving.

We went out for dinner this year, to a wonderful old tavern about an hour away. My husband and I took a friend who wasn't able to get home for Thanksgiving.

Here we are, after dinner.

 

 

I have also started with the mince pies; this year made from cranberry mincemeat, rather than green tomato mincemeat. I am also considering a batch of traditional mincemeat.

 

 

Below are apple marmalade, and spicy pork and apple pie, as mentioned in the previous post.



I happened on some good sized quince in the market today, so tomorrow will probably be something or other with the quince, and I also plan to make another dozen mince pies.

In knitting news, I have finished a beanie for my mother-in-law, and found some coordinating leather mittens; I am trying to finish a ruffled necklet scarf to match.

These past few months have been some of the worst I can remember; not only for us, but for so many other people. I am trying, with some success, I hope, to burnish up the good things, to make them stand out and remind us that there are still good things, and good people in this world.

A is for Apple

In spite of the plans, we didn't get to go apple picking this year. The orchard the group went to see stopped the pick-your-own early; another orchard employee elsewhere told me that a lot of orchards did that this year, due to the odd weather we've been having.

So...today I drove out to a local orchard that still has one (elderly but still producing) R.I. Greening apple tree. These--as I've said before--are my favorite apples. They're tart, crisp, and the best ever for cooking. I think that we'll be having pork and apple pie this week.

I don't have the recipe to hand, but in general: peel and core some sour apples; thinly slice some yellow onions; cook about a pound of ground pork with minced garlic, a bit of onion, some tomato paste, sage, red pepper flakes, sea salt, and black pepper; let the meat mixture cool.

Layer meat/apple/onion (and repeat to the top of the dish); cover with a pastry of your choice; I generally use cream cheese pastry, though Catherine's Pastry (see Fanny Farmer; it's a butter and lard pastry) is also very good.

Cut some slits for the steam to escape and bake at about 425 F until the juices bubble up and the crust is golden.

More ideas: applesauce, apple marmalade, cranberry applesauce, apple pie, Dutch apple cake.

Oh, and apple brownies aren't so bad, either.

Happy picking and eating.

The Preparations Begin

What a year it's been. For the most part, not a very good, or a very nice year. There's the obvious of this past week--the election.

Five weeks ago I cut my finger badly while working in the kitchen (two ER visits)...not a lot of fun, that. It's going to be weeks or months before I can go without a dressing on the wound, but it is beginning to heal nicely.

We've had colds, bronchitis, food poisoning...yikes.

Well, enough of that. Thanksgiving is in a couple of weeks. Before that, there's a lovely vintage market to attend in Boston, and on the following day, I've organized a group to dress up in 20s garb and go to see Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

It's really been a funny year. For one reason and another, I have done very little canning. Only one batch of jelly, one of marmalade, and a few pints of pickles. Good thing that past couple of years have been so productive! I count on those things for Christmas presents, and use them as hostess gifts.

Finally, this past week I made mincemeat. Not the traditional stuff, but a cranberry mincemeat. It's good, but rather tart, and not as rich as the green tomato mincemeat I've made in the past. I am considering my first batch of real mincemeat, too.

Two fruitcakes are maturing in the cellar; a white one, a light one, and a third (dark) is in the works; the fruit and nuts are soaking in brandy now.

There will be little or no Christmas knitting. What with all the weirdness, and then the hand injury, it's just not going to happen. I can knit, but not marathon style, and as I'm so far behind, that's the only way I'd manage it!

For Thanksgiving my husband and I are going out to dinner with a friend who lives in the area; we'll be dining at one of the old, traditional New England restaurants we're so lucky to have here.

I just might make a Thanksgiving dessert, though. Possibly. We'll see...but it would be a lovely excuse to come back here, light a fire, and have dessert, tea, coffee, and brandy at our leisure.

Quince Brandy

 

 

About five years ago I planted a small quince bush. I haven't had any viable fruit--either it just didn't set, or the squirrels bit into it and threw it away (someday I will write a monograph on the Squirrel Mafia in our town).

 

THIS year, a miracle occurred. I found not one, but three--very tiny--fruits on the bush when I went into the garden today. The large fruit next to them is half of a lemon.

I wasn't sure what to do with such a small yield, but finally decided that to maximize what I had, a cordial of sorts was the answer. Even for a cordial, though, that's not much fruit, so I got inventive, after digging around through some of my British cookbooks and online sites.

 

 

I made quince-lemon brandy (at least, I hope so).

 

 

Quince-Lemon Brandy

 

1/3 c. finely minced or shredded quince

juice and zest of half a lemon

1/4 cinnamon stick

1/4 c. sugar

1 scant pint of brandy or cognac

 

Combine all ingredients in a Mason jar, stir well, cover tightly, and put away in a dark place for three months.

 

Strain and re-bottle; taste and add additional sugar, if necessary.

 

 

In three months I'll either let you know how it turned out, or I'll have forgotten about it entirely!

More On Picnicking, Vintage Style

We've got another picnic coming up. This one is in conjunction with an apple picking expedition. We pick apples every year, just the two of us, but I know this group is good fun and good company, so we're in. The place we're headed doesn't seem to grow heritage apples, so we'll be making a trip somewhere else on another day to pick up Rhode Island Greenings.

What am I covering this time? Food.

In detail, that is. With an apple picking theme, apples will figure in my menu plans. Here are some of my ideas so far: spicy pork & apple hand pies; pumpkin soup or pumpkin chili; orange-cocoa tea cakes; maybe an apple cake or torte. I make a mean apple pie, but it looks like other people will have that covered, so I'm choosing different things. Another idea is apple marmalade over cream cheese, to be spread on crackers.

Cookies are a picnicking staple. In keeping with the fall theme, crunchy, spicy molasses cookies would be ideal.

For drinks...water, and maybe a whisky cocktail of some kind. There will be cider at the orchards, if we care to buy some.

If you search the blog you'll find pumpkin soup and pumpkin chili recipes and ideas. A word to the wise: if you like a very savory pumpkin taste, allow quite a lot of time for cooking and mellowing of flavors. Vinegars, lemon juice and Worcester sauce are your friends.

As for the pies, cream cheese pastry always answers--I like the one from the New York Times Cookbook. For the filling, cook ground pork with minced onion, cumin, a dash of cinnamon, black pepper, and red pepper flakes; for additional heat, add a few dashes of Tabasco. Deglaze the pan with cider and cook down till the mixture is nearly dry. Allow this to cool before using in the pastry.

Layer this with thin slices of tart, firm apple and very thin slices of onion.

I am also playing with the idea of making a version of a raised pie, complete with jelly added in at the end. That will probably require a hot water pastry--I'll get a recipe from one of my British cookery books.

I haven't yet decided on what to wear but it will be casual, and plaid and wool will certainly play a part. I have great 1940s reproduction dungarees which I might wear, and green and white saddle shoes.

The other thing to remember is some sturdy (empty) baskets--we're bound to find a good farmstand or two, in addition to what's on offer at the orchard's stores.

1928 Orange Cake / 2016 Orange-Cocoa Cake

Twice in two days! (The world isn't ending, don't worry...at least, I hope it's not.)

I made this yesterday.

...because on the weekend, my husband and I went to a favorite antiques shop, and I found the cookbook pictured above (and below).

 

I collect old cookbooks, in original and facsimile editions, from about 1650 to 1950, though most fall into the 1900 - 1939 category. I use them, too, though you do need to be aware of changes. For example, what in the world does a gill measure? (Half a cup.)

 

This book was published in 1928, and in 1928, double acting baking powder was around, but not the default leavening agent for quick breads. One could make baking powder at home, with baking soda and cream of tartar, and many people did.

Single acting baking powder starts to rise when it gets wet. Double acting baking powder starts (for the first time) when it's wetted, and begins to rise again when exposed to heat. According to some sources, the amount of rise is the same with both versions of baking powder.

From my own experience, I can say that it is not; if you're using double acting baking powder on an older (1920s or 30s...maybe even 40s), you're liable to end up with something that rises too fast once in the oven, and cracks as a result; in fact, it's possible that it will even fall after the quick rise, as the structure isn't yet hardened enough by cooking to uphold its new height.

 

I have a "feather cocoanut cake" recipe that I've perfected from a 1930s cookbook that took three or four tries to get right. One thing I did was to change from liquid fat to solid fat, and cream it, but even more importantly, I decreased the amount of baking powder.

I got lazy with this cake...and yes, it rose too fast, and cracked. Hence the flat top...because I turned it over. Which works, within reason!

 

Here is the original recipe--I'll post the changes I made after this.

 

 

Orange Cake

 

2/3 c. Crisco

1 1/2 c. sugar

3 eggs

3 cups flour

3 t. baking powder

1 t. salt

3/4 c. orange juice

1/4 c. water

 

Cream Crisco and sugar together. Add well-beaten eggs and mix well.  Mix and sift flour, baking powder and salt and add alternately with the combined orange juice and water to the first mixture.  Beat thoroughly. Pour into 3 greased layer cake pans and bake in a hot oven (400 degrees F) 20 to 25 minutes. Cool.

 

 

 

I only had one orange, which meant I had about 1/4 c. orange juice. I did have orange flavoring, and also some good cocoa on hand. Besides, I love orange and cocoa together.

 

So...

 

I used 2 3/4 flour, and 1/4 c. cocoa; 3/4 c. water, and 1/4 c. orange juice; 1/8 t. orange flavoring, and 1 tbl. freshly minced orange peel. And, as is usual, I decreased the amount of salt to about 1/4 t.

 

 

This makes a fine, velvety cake. It has a pronounced chocolate flavor, because there is no dairy to interfere with the development of the chocolate taste--water will always give you a richer flavor. It is very tender, as well.

 

The glaze on top is made as follows:

 

Bittersweet Chocolate-Orange Glaze

2 oz. bittersweet chocolate

2 tbl. Cointreau

2 1/2 tbl. unsalted butter

 

Melt together over very low heat, stirring constantly. Pour over cooled cake and swirl over top. Dust center of cake with finely minced fresh orange zest.

 

 

 

I did make the full recipe and used the rest of the batter to make four cupcakes and 12 small teacakes, all now in the freezer for teas and picnics of the future. 

 

Vintage Picnics: An Art Deco Guide

I know. It's been an age. Several, in fact--I haven't posted in more than a year.

However...we've had a lovely time in the past year or so, vintage-wise. We are now firmly part of the Greater Boston Vintage Society (GVBS), after meeting up for the first time for a Tweed Ramble, last October.

One of the nicest things about our this group is the predilection we have for picnics. We have them in the spring, summer, and fall. So far...who knows, maybe a winter picnic is next! (Though you probably won't catch me ice skating or skiing.)

My husband and I love this kind of thing. We've been collecting wicker baskets and the proper fittings, recipes to fill them, and the clothing to wear for years...this year we've been to Gatsby picnics, mostly, because of the summer, but I enjoy the fall outings, too.

 

 

Some of these photos will give you an idea of what sorts of things we drag along to have these events. Oddly, I can't find any from our Gatsby event at the Crane Estate, but I suppose they're all on Facebook.

 

What kinds of things do we bring to eat and drink? Well, if it's a private area, alcohol is fine; in that case, Champagne trumps the rest, and a flask or two is usually around, to add to lemonade or punch.

 

We also like soda water, sparkling fruit juices, and good old water. (It's often a good idea to put a bottle of frozen water in your basket, to keep things cool. When it thaws you have a bottle of chilled water.)

 

For food, I often make hand pies, either savory or sweet. Examples: cheese and ham; apple; spicy pork and apple; peach...you get the idea. My favorite pasty is cream cheese pastry--it's very easy to work, it's good cold, it's rich and also flaky and tender.

 

We usually bring some kind of fresh fruit, whatever happens to be in season.

I make cookies (or, if you're British, biscuits). Lavender shortbread, rose biscuits, molasses cookies; anything that will travel well and doesn't have a sticky topping works well.

 

Salads can be good, but do stay away from mayonnaise or anything else that must stay cold for safety's sake. A good German coleslaw is wonderful (vinegar dressing).

 

Yes, we bring tea sandwiches. Some favorites: liverwurst, onion and cream cheese; spicy peanut butter, cream cheese and hot pepper; cucumber/butter; onion; butter/radish.

 

Cakes are a nice addition. I usually bring something like a chocolate zucchini cake, fruitcake, or a Devonshire cake (like a light fruitcake, but flavored with rosewater rather than vanilla). If it's sturdy and doesn't have a sticky icing it will probably travel well.

 

There are plenty more things you can bring, but I do suggest you consider how anything you pack will travel.

Collect pretty tins; they are a wonderful way to transport things, and they look good as well. I usually bring a tin of candied orange peel, as it's something I always have on hand, and it travels well. You can find tins in thrift shops (charity shops, op shops), and the wicker as well. Believe it or now, a couple of months ago I found a small Fortnum and Mason picnic hamper! And not in the UK; I found it here, in Rhode Island. Keep your eyes open...I promise you, if you do, you'll find the treasures. They're out there.

We are going on an autumn picnic in about a week and a half; I am thinking of making molasses cookies and savory hand pies...also chili (if I can find enough Thermoses to carry it). Probably hot cider as well, and bread-and-butter sandwiches.

You probably have a good idea now, even if you've never gone on a vintage picnic. A few more notes: you'll need a decently sized blanket (preferably wool); a tarp or other waterproof item to place under your blanket, if you like; parasols or umbrellas for wandering around without acquiring sunburns; knitting or magazines for amusing yourself (or for sharing with others); a camera or the phone app on your camera, because you will want pictures!; and a good weather forecast.

 

Don't forget to dress for the occasion!

 

 

 

 

Cooking with Gas

I know I barely post these days, but this time I have a pretty decent excuse; I am finally back to work on my cookbook, and the first rough draft is shaping up.

It would be terrific to get it published properly, by a brick-and-mortar house, but if not I will still have a vanity press edition made up.

I expect the testing phase will take a long time, especially as friends and acquaintances in the UK and Europe have requested that I include weight and metric measurements. Luckily, a few people have volunteered to help with the testing; I won't have to do all of it.

Knitting is still happening--here's some proof:

I'm working on an Acadian Shawl (sideways knit, with a simple diamond lace border), and have plans for a late 30s cardigan with simple Fair Isle, and even have my eye on a lace cardi in the most recent edition of Vogue Knitting.

In other news, spring is finally here, and the snow is GONE. The garden is rather confused, but it's game. We'll see what happens. My husband and I had also wanted to have a straw bale garden this year, but the winter was so bad that there are no straw bales to be had anywhere. We do have a galvanized trough to use for some container gardening, but it will only fit two small crops. Tomatoes and zucchini, I expect--we know we'll use those (in this house there's no such thing as too much zucchini, as I use it for our favorite pickles).

Happy spring to you, too (or fall, if you're on the other side of the world).