The CWI Cookbook

Archive for the ‘Seafood’ Category

 Sprats
Flour
Salt
Melted butter

If you have not a sprat gridiron, get a piece of pointed iron wire as thick as a packthread, and as long as your gridiron is broad; run this through the heads of your sprats, sprinkle a little flour and salt over them, put your gridiron over a clear, quick fire, turn them in about a couple of minutes; when the other side is brown, draw out the wire, and send up the fish with melted butter in a cup.
Obs.–That sprats are young herrings, is evident by their anatomy, in which there is no perceptible difference. They appear very soon after the herrings are gone, and seem to be the spawn just vivified.

The Cook’s Oracle by William Kitchiner, MD, New York, 1829

Comments: Sprats are small fish, comparable in size, habits and manner of treatment to smelts which are caught in coastal and Great Lakes waters. Now that we have the main ingredient straight we switch to the matter of the “pointed iron wire as thick as a packthread,” which is not very thick at all. Apparently what are wanted here are thin metal skewers, run through the length of the fish. Just putting it through their heads sideways would seem to leave them dangling down over the fire in such a way as to incinerate the tails and leave the heads virtually raw. You are of course free to whip up a batch of sprat sushi, but we fear that is not the treatment Dr. Kitchiner had in mind.

 Scallops
Beaten egg
Crushed cracker crumbs
Lard for frying

The heart is the only part used. If you buy them in the shell, boil and take out the hearts. Those sold in our markets are generally ready for frying or stewing.
Dip them in beaten egg, then in cracker-crumbs, and fry in hot lard.

Common Sense in the Household by Marion Harland, New York, 1871

Comment: Many people are suspicious nowadays of scallops, particularly those ordered in restaurants, most particularly those ordered in restaurants which come in breaded and fried forms, as rumors have circulated for years that many are not in fact scallops at all but bits of cheaper fish products (even shark fins!) punched out in circles and pawned off as high-priced shellfish. You can avoid such problems if you follow Mrs. Harland’s advice and buy them in the shell, although we will concede that this is easier said than done for those who live any distance from the shoreline to speak of. Even in her day, it seems, they were commonly sold already pre-shelled, although apparently the shark-fin story had not yet started making the rounds.

 Clams, chopped fine
Pepper (black, white or red)
Salt
Cracker crumbs, finely crushed
Warm milk
Liquid from clams
1 or 2 eggs, beaten
Butter, melted

Chop the clams fine, and season with pepper and salt. Cayenne pepper is thought to give a finer flavor than black or white; but to some palates it is insufferable. Mix in another dish some powdered cracker, moistened first with warm milk, then with the clam liquor, a beaten egg or two, and some melted butter. Stir in with this the chopped clams. Wash as many clam-shells as the mixture will fill; wipe and butter them; fill, heaping up and smoothing over with a silver knife or tea-spoon. Range in rows in your baking-pan, and cook until nicely browned. Or, if you do not care to be troubled with the shells, bake in patty-pans, sending to table hot in the tins, as you would the scallop-shells.

From Common Sense in the Household by Marion Harland, New York, 1871

Comment: Scallop shells are perhaps the most elegant of the various housing units employed by bivalves, more symmetrical than the shells of oysters or clams. Thus they were often saved for reuse after their original occupants were devoured in other meals. As this was difficult for those who lived any distance from the coastline, small shallow saucer-shaped vessels to serve the purpose instead were made of inexpensive materials such as the tin noted above.

A distinction must be made between cookware described as “tin” and that which was “tinned.” Tin was the Teflon ™ of the 19th century, used to line pans made of sturdier materials. It was vastly easier to clean than plain cast iron and resistant to acids found in vinegar and tomato products.

Like its modern counterpart it wore out under continual use (especially since plastic utensils lay far in the future) but unlike today’s stuff the process of “re-tinning” was easily accomplished by one’s local metalworker or blacksmith.

 1 and 1/2 lb. cold boiled or baked salmon
2 heads white lettuce or celery
3 hard-boiled eggs
2 tbs. salad [olive] oil
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. white sugar
1 tsp. Worcestershire or anchovy sauce
1 tsp. made mustard
1 teacupful [1/2 c.] vinegar

Mince three-quarters of the salmon, laying aside four or five pieces half an inch wide and four or five [inches] long; cut smoothly and of uniform size. Prepare the dressing in the usual way, and pour over the minced fish. Shred the lettuce, handling as little as possible, and heap in a separate bowl, with pounded ice. This must accompany the salmon, that the guests may help themselves to their liking. Or you may mix the lettuce with the fish, if it is to be eaten immediately. Celery, of course, is always stirred into the salad, when it is used. The reserved pieces of salmon should be laid in the dressing for five minutes before the latter is added to the minced fish, then dipped in vinegar. When you have transferred your salad to the dish in which it is to be served, round it into a mound, and lay the strips upon it in such a manner as to divide it into triangular sections, the bars all meeting at the top and diverging at the base. Between these have subdivisions of chain-work made of the whites of the boiled eggs, each circle overlapping that next to it.
You can dress halibut the same way.

From Common Sense in the Household by Marion Harland, New York, 1871

Comment: This recipe looks as if it could have come out of a cookbook published today. The only difference, perhaps, is in the nature of the vegetables called for. While the style, and advice of nutritionists, nowadays calls for lettuces and celeries of the brightest green available, since they contain more nutrients, in the mid 19th century white was the preference, presumably because of its connotations of purity.

The use of Worcestershire sauce in the dressing is not an anachronism, as the product has been commercially available in the US as well as Britain since the 1840s. Bottled sauces of anchovies, mustards and the like were also starting to come on the market, but pure-food laws had not yet caught up, and most cookbooks recommend making them at home for reasons of both economy and quality control.

 Salt pork
Clams (presumably shelled)
Pepper, either black or cayenne
Salt
Butter
Onions, chopped
Crackers
Milk
Wine, catsup, or other sauce

Fry five or six slices of fat salt pork crisp, and chop to pieces. Sprinkle some of these in the bottom of a pot; lay upon them a stratum of clams; sprinkle with cayenne or black pepper and salt, and scatter bits of butter profusely over all; next, have a layer of chopped onions, then one of small crackers, split and moistened with warm milk. On these pour a little of the fat left in the pan after the pork is fried, and then comes a new round of pork, clams, onion, etc. Proceed in this order until the pot is nearly full, when cover with water, and stew slowly–the pot closely covered–for three quarters of an hour. Drain off all the liquor that will flow freely, and, when you have turned the chowder into the tureen, return the gravy to the pot. Thicken with flour, or, better still, pounded crackers; add a glass of wine, some catsup, and spiced sauce; boil up, and pour over the contents of the tureen. Send around walnut or butternut pickles with it.

From Common Sense in the Household by Marion Harland, New York, 1871

Comment: We do not wish to start sectional conflict between the partisans of New England-vs-Long Island clam chowders here, so we will merely point out that, not only is “catsup” not the only flavoring agent permitted here but that “catsup” was not the same product in that day that it is now. Catsups were commonly made with a base ingredient such as fruit, walnuts, and mushrooms as well as tomatoes. Use what you prefer, and give us time to duck behind a tree before you commence discussing the matter amongst yourselves.

The issue of crackers must be addressed as well, since there are few products sold under that name today which can be split into top and bottom halves. Common saltine crackers, oyster crackers or similar items can be used whole. The major difference between this and the commercial chowders available in cans today is the absence of potatoes, but the crackers serve the same essential function of a starch here.

 6 onions, large
Drippings from salt pork
5 lb. bass or cod
Salt
Black peppercorns
Whole cloves (1 or 2)
Thyme
Parsley
1 tbs. mushroom or tomato catsup
Oysters
Oyster or other crackers
Milk
Butter
Capers (optional)
Sliced lemons (optional)
1 c. oyster liquor (juice contained in shells of fresh oysters) (optional)

Slice six large onions, and fry them in the gravy of fried salt pork. Cut five pounds of bass or cod into strips three inches long and one thick, and line the bottom of a pot with them. Scatter a few slices of onion upon them, a little salt, half a dozen black peppers, a clove or two, a pinch of thyme and one of parsley, a tablespoonful tomato or mushroom catsup, and six oysters; then comes a layer of oyster crackers, well-soaked in milk and buttered thickly. Another layer of fish, onions, seasoning, and crackers, and so on until all are used up. Cover with water, boil slowly for an hour and pour out. Serve with capers and sliced lemon. A cup of oyster liquor added to the chowder while boiling improves it.

Common Sense in the Household by Marion Harland, New York, 1871

Comment: The word “chowder” is seldom found without “clam” attached these days, but in fact it is a generic term for any sort of seafood soup. This one would seem to be so thick as to nearly qualify as a stew. This will require very careful cooking at very low heat to avoid burning the fish strips lining the bottom of the cooking vessel.

The “tomato or mushroom catsup” called for here is a more concentrated and highly spiced sauce than the versions usually found in stores today, as might be suggested by the use of only a tablespoonful to flavor this quantity of food. We have numerous recipes for both products but either one takes about six times longer to make than this chowder does, so the strongest commercial substitute sauce that can be found seems like a reasonable modification of strict historical accuracy.