3 meals in this book
“30 Cold tankard--A summer beverage, used at dinner, made of brandy, cider, or perry, lemons cut in slices, cold water, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, and the herbs balm and burridge. Sometimes sherry or port wine is substituted for cider. The tankard is put into a pitcher, which is iced in a tub, procured from the confectioners.”
Take sweet cider immediately from the press. Strain it through a flannel bag into a tub, and stir into it as much honey as will make it strong enough to bear up an egg. Then boil and skim it, and when the scum ceases to rise, strain it again. When cool, put it into a cask, and set it in a cool cellar till spring. Then bottle it off; and when ripe, it will be found a very pleasant beverage. The cider must be of the very best quality, made entirely from good sound apples.
Recipe from Directions for Cookery, in its Various Branches of 1837.
“Author (solus). I must write--my last sovereign has long since been transferred to the safe keeping of mine hostess, to whom I have the honor to be obliged. I just caught a glance of her inflexible countenance this morning in passing the parlour door; and methought I could perceive the demon aspect of suspicion again spreading his corrosive murky hue over her furrowed front. The enlivening appearance of my golden ambassador had for a few days procured me a faint smile of complacency; but the spell is past, and I shall again be doomed to the humiliation ~8~~ of hearing Mrs Martha Bridget's morning lectures on the necessity of punctuality. Well, she must be quieted, (i.e.) promise crammed, (satisfied, under existing circumstances, is impossible): I know it will require no little skill to obtain fresh supplies from her stores, without the master-key which unlocks the flinty heart; but _nil desperandum_, he who can brave a formidable army of critics, in pursuit of the bubble fame, may at least hope to find wit enough to quiet the interested apprehensions of an old woman. And yet how mortifying is the very suspicion of inattention and disrespect. I have rung six times for my breakfast, and as many more for my boots, before either have made their appearance; the first has indeed just arrived, with a lame apology from mine hostess, that the gentleman on the first floor is a very impetuous fellow, requires prompt attention, gives a great deal of trouble--but--then he pays a great deal of money, and above all, is very punctual: here is my _quietus_ at once; the last sentence admits of no reply from a pennyless author. My breakfast table is but the spectre of former times;--no eggs on each side of my cup, or a plate of fresh Lynn shrimps, with an inviting salt odour, that would create an appetite in the stomach of an invalid; a choice bit of dried salmon, or a fresh cut off the roll of some violet-scented Epping butter;--all have disappeared; nay, even the usual allowance of cream has degenerated into skimmed milk, and that is supplied in such cautious quantities, that I can scarce eke it out to colour my three cups of inspiring bohea.”
Butter is an expensive article, and should be selected with care. If one have the proper place for storing it, and can get it direct from some trustworthy dairy, it would be economical to purchase the winter’s supply in October. About fifty pounds will be enough for a family of two for six months. This should be put up in two or three small tubs. It must be kept in a cool, sweet place. Eggs, of course, are best fresh. It is wise economy for the young housekeeper to pay the extra price, and always be sure of the quality of her supply. Pure milk is a most important adjunct to the table. As far as it is in her power to do so, the housekeeper should see that the supply comes from a wholesome source, and then do her part to keep the milk good by having the vessels perfectly clean and the surroundings such that the milk shall not be contaminated.
Recipe from Miss Parloa's Young Housekeeper of 1893.
“Awful and huge, he treads the ground like one of Bruce's moving pillars of sand! What a dark and deep abyss he carries before him--the grave insatiate of turtle and turbot, red mullet and John Dories, haunches and pasties, claret, port, and home-brewed ale! But his good-humour alone would keep him at twenty stone were he to cease larding himself for a month to come; and when he falls, may the turf lie lightly on his stomach! Then shall he melt gently into rich manure;”
1332. INGREDIENTS.--1-1/2 lb. of rump-steak or mutton cutlets, pepper and salt to taste, 1/3 pint of weak broth or gravy, 1 oz. of butter, mashed potatoes. [Illustration: POTATO-PASTY PAN.] _Mode_.--Place the meat, cut in small pieces, at the bottom of the pan; season it with pepper and salt, and add the gravy and butter broken, into small pieces. Put on the perforated plate, with its valve-pipe screwed on, and fill up the whole space to the top of the tube with nicely-mashed potatoes mixed with a little milk, and finish the surface of them in any ornamental manner. If carefully baked, the potatoes will be covered with a delicate brown crust, retaining all the savoury steam rising from the meat. Send it to table as it comes from the oven, with a napkin folded round it. _Time_.--40 to 60 minutes. _Average cost_, 2s. _Sufficient_ for 4 or 5 persons. _Seasonable_ at any time.
Recipe from The Book of Household Management of 1861.
Sources: Every passage above is quoted verbatim from The English Spy, free to read in full at Project Gutenberg. The recipes come from cookbooks of the period, also free in full. All are in the public domain in the United States. The binding is ours — oxblood cloth, grapes stamp.