The CWI Cookbook

Archive for the ‘Baking’ Category

 Take one pint of milk quite warm, and a quarter of a pint of thick small-beer yeast; strain them into a pan, and add sufficient flour to make it like a batter; cover it over, and let it stand in a warm place until it has risen; then add a quarter of a pint of warm milk, and one ounce of butter rubbed in some flour quite fine; mix them well together; then add sufficient flour to make it into dough, cover it over, and let it stand half an hour; then work it up again, and break it into small pieces; roll them up quite round, and cover them over for a quarter of an hour; then bake them.

From The Cook’s Own Book by “A Boston Housekeeper” (Mrs. N. K. M. Lee), Boston, 1832

Comment: The “thick small-beer yeast” called for here would today be known as a yeast starter, a moist batter-like product sometimes sold in small stone jars to be used to make sourdough breads. A friend who homebrews beer is a good thing to have, but if you have yet to make such an acquaintance, prepare a yeast starter with such commercial yeast as you have on hand. The breeding of distinct varieties of yeasts for bread versus beer making had not yet come into being in the 19th century anyway.

 3/4 lb. flour
1 lb. sugar
6 eggs, beaten
1 tsp. rose water

Put three-quarters of a pound of fine flour to a pound of fine sifted sugar; sift both together three times, then add six eggs beaten well, and a spoonful of rose-water; when the oven is nearly hot, bake them, but not too wet.

From The Cook’s Own Book: Being a Complete Culinary Encyclopedia by “a Boston Housekeeper” (Mrs. N. K. M. Lee) Boston 1832.

Comment: Rose-water was a common ingredient in fancy cooking of the 19th century, made by soaking large amounts of rose petals in a small amount of water over a period of days or even weeks. It is most commonly found today in markets catering to fans of Middle Eastern cuisine. If completely unobtainable a possible substitute would be a quarter-teaspoon or so of vanilla or almond extract.

 Cream filling:
1 qt. milk
4 tbs. flour, sifted
4 eggs, separated and beaten
5 heaping tablespoons sugar
Grated rind and juice of 1 lemon

Cakes:
1 pint flour, sifted
1/4 lb (1 stick) butter
1 qt milk
3/4 lb. flour
12 eggs, separated
Butter for greasing baking tins
1 egg to coat finished cakes

Take one quart of sweet new milk, from which take three table-spoonfuls to moisten four tablespoonfuls of sifted flour, and put the remainder on to boil; separate four eggs and beat them as stiff as possible; add to the yolks five heaping table-spoonfuls of pulverized loaf-sugar; when the milk is boiling hot, stir in first the moistened flour, let it thicken but not boil, then stir the whites and yolks together and beat them well, pour a little of the boiled milk in the egg, stir it well, and then mix it in the hot milk, let it boil three minutes, then add the grated rind and juice of one lemon, and set it away to cool, then proceed to make the paste [dough for the cakes]; take one pint of sifted flour and one-fourth of a pound of butter, set it over hot water until it melts, then add a quart of milk and stir in three-fourths of a pound of flour, let it scald through; then let it become cold, beat all the lumps out, separate and beat twelve eggs, stir them in the paste, first the yolks and then the whites; butter twenty-four round tins, fill them not quite half full; bake thoroughly; when cold, open them a little with a knife and put in the cream; press the edges together and wet them over with egg. These cakes must be used the same day they are baked.

The Housekeeper’s Encyclopedia by Mrs. E. F. Haskell, 1861

Comment: We freely confess this is not a recipe we have ever actually tried to make, nor for that matter even seriously considered it. Just reading the recipe–was it a matter of actual law or merely custom that seems to have barred the use of the period as a punctuation mark? This entire recipe, for two totally separate items, the cakes and the filling, uses a mere two sentences, the second of which is just advisory–is so exhausting that we have to go lie down rather than reach for the flour, eggs and utensils.

 1 lb. potato flour
1/2 lb. brown sugar
1/2 c. cream
2 eggs
Rind of 1 lemon, grated

Take one pound of potato flour, half a pound of the best brown sugar, a teacupful of cream, two eggs, and the rind of a citron [lemon], grated. Mix the flour with the cream; then add the eggs, well beaten, the sugar and the lemon; whisk them all together fifteen or twenty minutes, and bake in cheese-cake tins in a moderate oven.

The Hydropathic Cook-Book by R. T. Trall, M.D. 1854

Comment: The Hydropathic Cook-Book is a now-extremely-rare survivor of what was once a vast and thriving segment of the publishing business and indeed the “medical” industry. Sylvester Graham (b. 1794) was perhaps the founding father of this phase of the Better Living Through Diet philosophy. The only item which still bears his name is the “graham cracker,” and lamentably enough it bears no trace of his whole-wheat, no-sugar dietary scheme.

Similarly, these “Frost Cakes” are without question the sexiest items in “Dr.” Trall’s book. As the name hints, without directly admitting, they were intended as substitutes for Christmas cookies, pies, cakes and sweets in general. One batch of these small cakes would give a hard core adherent of the Hydropathic Diet a sugar rush the likes of which we can hardly imagine, since it would be just about the only sugar she or he got all year long. Whether it was sufficient to make up for having potato flour as the base ingredient is another question.

3 tbs. milk
3 tbs. water
2-3 tbs. butter
2 tbs. homemade yeast (1 pack or cube commercial yeast)
slightly over 1 qt. flour
Salt

Warm three spoonfuls of milk, and the same quantity of water, with a bit of butter the size of a walnut, put it to two spoonfuls of thick yeast; put this into the middle of rather more than a quart of flour, mix the whole together to the consistence of a batter-pudding, adding more flour if necessary, to make it the proper thickness; strew a little flour over it from the sides, and if the weather is cold, set it at a little distance from the fire; do this three hours before it is put into the oven; when it breaks a good deal through the flour and rises, work it into a light paste with more warm milk, and water; let it lie till within a quarter of an hour of setting into the oven, then work them lightly into rolls; flour a tin, and drop them on, handle them as little as possible; set them before the fire. About twenty minutes will be sufficient time to bake them; put a little salt into the flour. Rasp the rolls.

From The Cook’s Own Book by “A Boston Housekeeper” (Mrs. N. K. M. Lee), 1832

Comment: Here we encounter one of the challenges of translating a 19th century recipe to 21st century standards: yeast. This did not become available in commercially packaged versions in stores until shortly after the Civil War. Prior to that, it was the responsibility of every homemaker to keep a yeast pot in her own kitchen. If a spoonful or cup of yeast was taken out, which normally happened on an almost daily basis, it was replaced with a like quantity of flour and water. This served as food for the yeast organisms left behind, and the next day it would all be yeast again. Virtually every “recipe” for making yeast called for at least a spoonful of the previous batch to act as a starter.

When through ill luck or mismanagement the entire batch would die, the usual recommendation was a trip to the nearest brewer to restock from his vats. (The distinction between bakers’ and brewers’ yeasts was not so clearly drawn at that time as it is today.) If all else failed, a bowl of plain flour and water would have to be set out with a light cloth over it to keep out insects, and one could only hope that a pleasant variety of wild yeast would settle in and take up housekeeping. If a less well mannered sort moved in instead, the result was known as sourdough.

3 tbs. milk
3 tbs. water
2-3 tbs. butter
2 tbs. homemade yeast (1 pack or cube commercial yeast)
slightly over 1 qt. flour
Salt

Warm three spoonfuls of milk, and the same quantity of water, with a bit of butter the size of a walnut, put it to two spoonfuls of thick yeast; put this into the middle of rather more than a quart of flour, mix the whole together to the consistence of a batter-pudding, adding more flour if necessary; to make it the proper thickness; strew a little flour over it from the sides, and if the weather is cold, set it at a little distance from the fire; do this three hours before it is put into the oven; when it breaks a good deal through the flour and rises, work it into a light paste with more warm milk, and water; let it lie till within a quarter of an hour of setting into the oven, then work them lightly into rolls; flour a tin, and drop them on, handle them as little as possible; set them before the fire. About twenty minutes will be sufficient time to bake them; put a little salt into the flour. Rasp the rolls.

From The Cook’s Own Book by “A Boston Housekeeper” (Mrs. N. K. M. Lee) Boston 1832.

Comment: Considering that Mrs. Lee listed no fewer than three recipes for “French Rolls” in her book, she must have been very fond of them. And yet this recipe is puzzling in several respects. She waits until she’s done with the baking process to mention, oh yeah, you should have added some salt to the flour back at the beginning? The technique of putting the liquid ingredients into a pile of flour is one that perhaps only experienced bread-bakers should attempt. It is highly thought of by gourmet chefs but those of us with lesser skill levels are almost certain to use too much flour, resulting in a dry, unpleasant roll.

Then there is the part about “when it breaks a good deal through the flour and rises, work it into a light paste…” &c., which is on if not over the edge of incomprehensibility. We hang our heads in shame as we reach for a cardboard tube of bake-at-home rolls, and commend the courage of anyone who tackles this recipe as written.