1 lb. sugar
2 lb. flour
1 tbs. ground coriander
3/4 lb. butter
6 eggs
1/2 c. brandy

Mix a pound of sugar, with two pounds of flour, and a large spoonful of pounded coriander seeds; sift them, add three quarters of a pound of melted butter, six eggs, and a gill of brandy; knead it well, roll it thin, cut it in shapes, and bake without discoloring [browning] it.

From The Virginia Housewife by Mary Randolph, 1824

Comment: We once had a call from a reader looking for a recipe she remembered her grandmother making long ago. She described the resulting item and said as best she remembered it had been called “Strawberry Cake” despite containing no strawberries at all. Much puzzlement ensued, until we turned up this one. Gratification was intense among all parties.

While Mrs. Randolph would have you bake this item but not brown it, it may be a bit difficult to tell when exactly it is done. Some experimentation may be called for, but try to keep them as pale as possible without leaving the insides raw.

This is a very old recipe of English origin, as can be told by the title. Many towns in England have a “signature” food product, such as Bath Buns, Chantilly Basket and the like. No municipality has yet staked a claim on Toad in the Hole, nor Bangers and Mash, but again, further research may be called for. We shall prepare a grant application forthwith to fund the project.

          

1 lb. butter (unsalted preferred)
1 lb. granulated sugar
3/4 c white wine
3/4 c rose brandy
1 -2 tbs. nutmeg
1 tsp. cinnamon
Grated rind and juice of half a lemon
1 lb. flour
20 eggs, separated, use whites only

Prepare a pound of fresh butter and a pound of powdered loaf sugar, as before directed, mix them together, and beat them to a cream. Add to it a wine glass of white wine, one of rose brandy, a grated nutmeg, a tea-spoonful of powdered cinnamon, or a few drops of the essence, and the juice and grated rind of half a lemon. Sift a pound of the finest flour, and beat to a very stiff froth the whites only of twenty fresh eggs; then stir into the other ingredients alternately and gradually the flour and eggs, giving it a hard stirring at the last. Put it in a deep buttered pan, of circular form, having a straight, upright rim, and not filling it more than half full; let it stand to rise, and bake it in a moderate oven, very little warm at first, and gradually heating it, and putting rather more fire underneath than on the top. When it is thoroughly done, withdraw the fire, let it remain in the oven till it gets cool, and ice it smoothly with white cake icing, and when it gets about half dry, ornament it in the most elegant manner with devices and borders in white sugar, which you may obtain at the confectioners. It should be considerably elevated upon the table, and stick firmly in the center of it, a handsome assemblage of real or artificial leaves and white flowers.

The Kentucky Housewife, by Mrs. Lettice Bryan, 1839.

Comment: The “rose brandy” called for here is a variant on rose water and is made the same way: “Fill a glass jar with fresh rose leaves, pour over them as much white brandy as the jar will hold; cover them and set them by to steep till the flavor of the roses is extracted; then drain them out, fill up the jar with fresh rose leaves, cover them, and let them stand again for at least twenty-four hours; drain them out again, and in like manner fill up the jar the third and fourth time. Then strain and bottle it.”

The “it” in question is of course the brandy, not the rose leaves. The size of the container will be determined by how much rose brandy you wish to make, not to mention the ready availability of fresh, non-pesticide or -pollutant laden rose petals and your patience in petal plucking. Cheap wild roses will be better for this (not to mention more historically accurate) than modern day hybrid tea varieties, which have been bred for appearance and long shelf life rather than their fragrance-producing properties.

Given the number of pounds of ingredients, and the specified number of baking pans to be used (one), this is going to be a very tricky cake to fit into a modern oven. How it was accomplished with 19th century baking technology would require the resources of a well-restored living-history farm or house of the period to explain, but here at least is the recipe with which you can start the process.

          

1 lb. almonds, blanched
15 eggs
1 lb. sugar
Lemon peel, grated
1/2 lb. flour, sifted

Pound in a mortar one pound of blanched almonds quite fine, with the whites of three eggs; then put in one pound of sifted loaf sugar, some grated lemon-peel, and the yelks [yolks] of fifteen eggs– work them well together; beat up to a solid froth the whites of 12 eggs, and stir them into the other ingredients with a quarter of a pound of sifted dry flour; prepare a mould; put in the mixture, and bake it an hour in a slow oven; take it carefully from the mould and set it on a sieve.

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

Comment: We trust that our readers, presumably computer owners all, would beat the egg whites for a recipe like this with an electric mixer. Should you wish to get the feel for how a cook in the 19th century would work, you should get a couple of thin wooden rods (your local Chinese restaurant would be a potential source of supply as they usually carry inexpensive chopsticks) and carry out the operation with those. You will soon get an understanding of why a fancy dessert like this was most often enjoyed in a household which employed servants, for whom a sore wrist was the least of the injuries they were liable to incur in the course of a day’s work.

Another standard practice was to use a small dish or plate when separating eggs. Crack the egg carefully over the plate and separate the shell into two reasonably equal halves. The white will start to fall out onto the plate as soon as it is divided. Then pour the yolk back and forth a couple of times to let the remainder of the white fall out. Dump the yolk into one mixing bowl, toss the shells, then pour the white into a separate vessel (keeping careful count as you go!) This served a double purpose:

–if the yolk breaks and bleeds into the white, toss both parts into a separate container and make an omelet later. The tiniest trace of yolk will keep the whites from frothing properly so must be discarded.

–In those days before commercial egg-packagers had expensive inspection techniques at the factory level, it was much more common to get a “bad egg” in the middle of an otherwise good batch. This too will pollute the entire container–not to mention stink up the kitchen!– so using the small dish method was absolutely essential. It’s still a good habit to practice.