There was an interesting item in the New York Times about historic house museums shifting the focus from rich and famous occupants, to the servants that made these huge homes run.
The Scullery Maid Behind the Brocade at Mansion Museums (NY Times)
There was an interesting item in the New York Times about historic house museums shifting the focus from rich and famous occupants, to the servants that made these huge homes run.
The Scullery Maid Behind the Brocade at Mansion Museums (NY Times)
Recently, my Mom read that passing down cookbooks from mother to daughter is a way of preserving a family’s history. So in that vein, she gifted me with two cookbooks that my grandmother received as wedding presents in the 1940s: The Settlement Cookbook and the Watkins Salad Book.
A sweet preparation of American citron.
For canning, I used an old spaghetti sauce jar and a canning jar that some face cream came in (I washed it). When I opened up the jars the next day, I was surprised to find that the steam had created a tight seal on both jars, including resealing the spaghetti sauce jar. I’ve never canned before, so these things amaze me. I sampled both citron preparations: the preserved citron was soft and almost completely transparent. It tasted like sugar melon and feet. The pickled citron was crunchier, but also a little slimy. I remembered reading some 19th c recipes that warned against the slime, and recommended soaking it in a brine, rinsing it, and brining it again to get rid of it. My bad.
From Scientific American:
Ok, I know what’s on your mind: Why is there a swastika floating in those lemons?
I’m launching a new feature this week: The Gallery! I’ll be featuring images from vintage and historic cookbooks for your enjoyment. Look for it soon!
While I was vacationing at my summer home in Cleveland (I staid with my parents), my mom and I decided to try to grow a yeast culture. We were inspired by a book my friend Kristina sent me from Alaska: a little pamphlet about the history of sourdough bread. It carried these instructions on making your own starter:
Place ingredients in a glass bowl and blend well with a wooden or plastic spoon. Cover loosely with a clean towel (this allows air to enter the bowl so your starter can pick up wild yeasts from the environment) and place it in a warm spot. Once a day, remove half the starter and throw it away. To the remaining starter, add 1 cup flour and 1 cup warm water; stir in well until lumps are gone. After 3 or 4 days of replenishing the starter it should be bubbly and have a pleasant sour smell. It is then ready to be used immediately or it can be placed in a clean container with a loose cover and refrigerated for later use.
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We followed the recipe, and place the bowl of flour and water out on the driveway to warm up. If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know that last time I tried growing yeast in New York, I ended up with something that smelled like cat puke and looked worse. I hid it in the back of my refrigerator and eventually threw it away, too scared to make anything from it. This time wasn’t much better. Although the starter looked like a starter should, it again smelled exactly like cat puke. The stink of it made a friend dry heave.
However, having now attempted this operation twice with the same results, I was willing to try to make some cat puke bread. Mom, after listening to my father going on about some kind of deadly yeast, decided to throw it out. The decision was made for us when, after forgetting to bring the bowl in at night, some creature came along and ate it. I imagine the creature looked like this: