Categories
1950-1999 Food & Drink

1950s American Pie

DC Thomson, the Scottish publishing house, holds a huge amount of nostalgia value for me, The Beano being my absolute number one childhood read. I got the comic every week, collected the single character booklets, and dreamed of catapults, minxing, and big piles of mash with sausages sticking out. And I’m never getting rid of my Dennis the Menace and Gnasher fan club badges.

So the new DC Thomson book, Pass it On: Cooking Tips from the 1950s, appeals to both my real nostalgia and the kind of fantasy nostalgia I have about times which pre-date me. Can you feel proper nostalgia about things you didn’t actually live through? Reading so many old books has almost given me false memory syndrome.

The book is a guide to what home cooking used to be – a collection of recipes and tips sent in to The Sunday Post, People’s Journal and The People’s Friend by those women who cooked for their families in the face of culinary challenges we can’t quite imagine today – the food rationing of the Second World War didn’t come to an end until 1954 for some food items, including meat, cheese, butter, preserves, tea and sugar, and frugality was key.

There’s a lovely selection of original recipe pages you can look at here and I decided to have a crack at one of them. My favourite recipe genre (and the staple of recipe books up to the 1950s), invalid cookery, is here along with recipe suggestions for your Government Cheese – the nickname of the mild cheddar which was the only type available until the end of rationing. Mind you, I’m a month into a dairy-free diet on account of my new baby son and his sore bottom, and even Government Cheese is sounding wildly delicious to me at the moment.

The bread omelet sounds good, like a slightly more elaborate eggy bread.

Bread omelet

Then there’s the Carrot Mould, which lives up to the old British stereotype of cooking, boiling carrots into baby food for a whole two hours and then turning them into an unnecessary shape.

Carrot mould

The Gingerbread Upsidedown Delight is definitely one I’m making at some point, the Enid Blyton-style name adding to its appeal.

Gingerbread Upsidedown Delight

But I made the American Pie.

American Pie

There’s been more than 40 years of speculation about what Don McLean meant in his chart-topping song, but I think I can say with confidence that this wasn’t what he was singing about. This one is a bit of a mystery – I mean we know the phrase “As American as apple pie” but there’s nothing mentioned about a pile of macaroni, cold meat, tomatoes and breadcrumbs. This is obviously a way to use up the leftover meat probably from the Sunday roast. I wondered about which meat to use – it could be Spam for full retro effect, but I went for turkey and smoked ham as that sounded at least a little bit American to me.

American Pie

Despite my initial thoughts that this comes from a place where people didn’t quite get macaroni – it should be coated in a sauce surely, not used as a plain unflavoured base – it was actually quite pleasant, a smooth and creamy element to the dish. The whole thing has nothing to hold it together though, and just flops into a pile of ingredients on the plate. It would be better with an egg to hold it together and some cheese on top, but then again, that would probably be an extravagance too far in the age of rationing.

The book is available here and I think it will be going on my Christmas list.

Categories
1950-1999 Food & Drink

Vintage Recipe – Fricassee of Chicken, 1959

My first creation from 1959’s Perfect Cooking was the mid-century, showy, dinner party-style Fricassee of Chicken.

As I mentioned in my previous post on this book, the best things in there are the delightfully literal line drawings illustrating the ingredients in the recipes (such as an actual fish put in the stocks for fish stock) but not what the actual finished dish looked like. I could have done with a guideline as to how the presentation of this was supposed to work. It’s creamed chicken, surrounded by “a border of mashed potato” and then garnished by peas and fried bread triangles. I have to admit, the double carb-loading appeal of mash and fried bread in the one meal was the main reason for making this.

image

This is my serving suggestion attempt, with a piece of chicken hoving into view like a little Nessie. It brings to my mind of one of Fanny Craddock’s creations, although she would probably have dyed the mash green to match the peas. The faffing time spent on producing borders and garnishes means that the sauce had plenty of time to get to work on forming a skin before it got near a plate.

image

image

The verdict? Well, the adults in the house thought it was delicious, but the kids had other ideas. To be fair, it does look very slightly different from the tea they’re usually presented with. The fried bread was a hit, but as far as they were concerned, the chicken could only be eaten with all the creamy sauce wiped off. The mashed potato and peas, infected as they were with the sauce, were no go areas too. I loved the sauce myself, so I have no idea what the kids tastebuds were reacting to.

In short, if you’re hosting a 1950s-themed adult-only dinner party, this is the centrepiece for you. I would make it again in a second, although minus all the faffing with the presentation. Just big dollops of creamy chicken and mash on the plate instead.

Categories
1950-1999 Food & Drink

Perfect Cooking, 1959

I’ve got a new cookery book, and it promises me “Perfect Cooking”, 1959-style.

image

I love so many things about old cookbooks, particularly the craziness of the Invalid Cookery sections, but one thing bugs me – there’s no pictures of the food, most of the time. Well, there’s the occasional line drawing in some, and from the 1950s you do start to see those vivid technicolour plates for selected recipes. And, contradicting myself now, thinking about it, I do have the most beautifully illustrated promotional booklet for Lutona cocoa recipes from the 1930s. But generally, my preference is for a nice big picture of every recipe in the book, it adds to the general aesthetic enjoyment of the cooking process.

That is, until now, when I’ve discovered something I like just as much. Quirky little line drawings, depicting something ludicrously literal about the recipe title, like a Pan’s People dance routine on Top of the Pops in 1974. Some of the illustrations are a bit of a wilder riff on the theme, like when that picture of Jocky Wilson was screened behind Dexy’s Midnight Runners on Top of the Pops in 1982. Which I was interested to learn recently, was actually done on purpose, suggested Kevin Rowland for a laugh.

I love the 50s illustration style and the technicolour pics in this book are reserved for some beautiful drawings of special events throughout the year, a wonderful depiction of idealised 1950s life. The Fricassee of Chicken below I have been working on, to be presented in a future post.

image

image

image

And I would kill to be at this glamorous Halloween party.

image

There’s rationing-inspired recipes too, like this one for mock cream.

image

Plus um…boiled cucumber?
image

And the usual vintage recipes for heads of various sorts, which I’m too squeamish for.
image

The line drawings though, these delight my heart, which is always looking for the silly. A rock and rolling rock bun, here – which is pretty up to the minute for 1959. Plus – Batchelors Buttons.
image

Preserved ginger, here. I think this is supposed to be a “well-preserved” lady of a certain age.
image

Bath buns = a bun in a bath. Obv.
image

Sweet egg toasties with a sweet young lady egg in a bonnet.
image

Not sure why the vanilla soufflé is a peeking lady with amazing eyes. Maybe because of soufflé being a seductively French word?
image

You have to read the ingredients list for this one – the tripe and onion casserole contains dressed tripe, hence a helpfully-signposted piece of tripe in a top hat.
image

Chicken croquettes, chicken playing croquet. Standard.
image

Sandwiches being advertised on a sandwich board. Clever.
image

Right, this has me beat, I’ve googled everything. Why is Shrimp Mousse a clown with a shrimp mousse drum? Is it the shape of the mousse mould? Is it a pun? If anyone can figure it out, please let me know in the comments!
image

The best for last – my favourite of them all. An utterly masterful piece of illustration. Fish stock = a fish in the stocks.
image

Categories
1900-1949 Food & Drink

After-Christmas Recipe – Wholemeal Biscuits, 1928

So it’s back to work for me today. Can’t complain really – it’s in distinct contrast to the days when I was a shop-girl and had to work the busiest day of the year on Christmas Eve, with it all happening again on Boxing Day.

This year it’s been wall-to-wall truckles of brie, salted caramel cream liqueur, marshmallow snowmen and bubble and squeak, and so perhaps it’s time for a more austere diet to kick in. As the recipe below says (before giving the instructions in one, long sentence) “After the surfeit of the festival season it is often a relief to see something that is not garnished with clotted cream or chocolate icing. Wholemeal biscuits seem an eminently suitable change…”

It’s a kind of digestive biscuit which was, as evident in its name, was considered an aid to the digestive system due to the presence of bicarbonate of soda. Notwithstanding the fact that most of it decomposes into sodium carbonate during the cooking process and so having little actual effect, this particular recipe only calls for a pinch of the stuff anyway.

Nb. This is the first time I have come across the concept of a “saltspoon” as a means of measurement. Apparently 1 saltspoon equals 1/4 of a teaspoon so this would mean 1/8 teaspoon of salt in the recipe below.

 

Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette, 29th December 1928
Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette, 29th December 1928

After-Christmas Recipe

 

Wholemeal Biscuits

After the surfeit of the festival season it is often a relief to see something that is not garnished with clotted cream or chocolate icing. Wholemeal biscuits seem an eminently suitable change. Here  is a good recipe for them:-

Ingredients:

1/2lb wholemeal flour

1/4 pint milk (about)

1oz caster sugar

1oz butter

1/2 saltspoonsful salt (1/8 tsp)

A pinch of carbonate of soda

Dissolve the butter and soda in the milk by warming, mix the flour, sugar and salt together, add the milk, mix the whole into a stiff paste, roll out thinly, cut in rounds, pierce all over with a fork, place on a greased tin and bake 25 minutes.

Categories
1900-1949 Food & Drink

Vintage Recipe – Eggless Christmas Cake, 1941

As the mother of a little girl who has a whole array of food allergies, including eggs, the eggless baking of the Second World War is a rather useful inspiration. Rationing meant only one egg a week for an adult, and it seems a bit of a waste to use it in a cake if there’s other ways around it.

9th December 1941, Berwickshire News and General Advertiser
9th December 1941, Berwickshire News and General Advertiser

 

Here’s an eggless Christmas Cake recipe, from the Berwickshire News in 1941. The moisture and binding properties are replaced by milk and golden syrup, and vinegar is added to help the rise. Vinegar is also a key ingredient in the vegan “wacky cake”, which originated during the Depression, a version of which the lovely cook at my daughter’s nursery makes for her every Monday.

 

9th December 1941, Berwickshire News and General Advertiser
9th December 1941, Berwickshire News and General Advertiser

Christmas Cake (without eggs)

10 oz flour

4 oz margarine

4 oz sugar (brown or caster)

8 oz currants

8 oz sultanas

4 oz raisins (chopped)

1/2 tsp salt

1 tbsp. golden syrup

1/2 tsp mixed spice

3 level tsp Royal baking powder

1 dessertspoonful vinegar

1/2 pint milk

Peel on 1 orange

  1. Clean and prepare the fruit
  2. Sift the flour, salt, baking powder and spice together, and rub in the margarine.
  3. Chop the orange peel very finely.
  4. Add all dry ingredients and mix well.
  5. Bind with the syrup and the milk mixed together and slightly warmed.
  6. Lastly, stir in the vinegar.
  7. Turn at once into a greased and lined cake tin (best size 7 ins.) and bake in a moderately slow oven (Regulo 3 or 325 degrees) for 3 1/2 – 4 hours.
  8. 2 oz of chopped nuts may be added to the cake if desired.
  9. Blanched and split almonds may be used to decorate the cake and should be added after the cake has been in the over 15 minutes.

 

Categories
1900-1949 Food & Drink

Vintage Recipe – Bircher Muesli, 1928

Bircher muesli – an old recipe that has been recently revived, trendified and is probably now available in a independent coffee shop near you. However, it has been modernised a little. The original cream and sugar have largely given way to yogurt and more fruit, but there are a huge amount of different recipes out there now.

It’s one of those nineteenth-century health recipes, served in sanitoriums and spas – like those invented by Dr Kellogg, and Hydropathic Pudding. It was invented by Dr Maximilian Bircher-Benner who considered it to be mainly of use in order to get patients to eat raw apples, believing that raw food contained a high level of energy from solar light. He invented muesli in general, not just adapting it to produce this version – muesli meaning “little mush”, which is a very apt name for this recipe.

It was presented in this 1928 newspaper as “a new breakfast dish” – although Dr Bircher-Benner apparently invented it at the end of the nineteenth century, it was only in the 1920s that it became popularised. This recipe is the authentic version, consisting of oats soaked in water overnight, grated apple, lemon zest and juice, brown sugar, cream or condensed milk, and chopped nuts.

Grantham Journal, 20th October 1928

I made the recipe exactly as specified. There is the option to use cream or condensed milk and I went with the condensed milk version as:

1) that was what Dr Bircher originally used,

2) the recipes on my blog are all about the retro, and this definitely adds that element to it,

and 3) frankly any excuse to eat that divine nectar.

It calls for grated nuts to be sprinkled over as a finishing touch, and I toasted some almond flakes for this purpose.

Autumn breakfast in a pumpkin bowl

My verdict – “little mush” is very apt for the look of it, brightened only by the grated red skin of the Pink Lady apple I used. Not particularly inspiring appearance-wise. But the taste! Oh, easily the most delicious breakfast I have had in a long time. The fresh juiciness of the grated apple with the soothing oats, the crunch of the toasted almonds, and the sharp lemon and sweet condensed milk deliciously combining to make the overall taste almost like pudding. I had previously only tried Bircher muesli in those pre-made pots you get with a Boots Meal Deal, which are a not unpleasant but blandly sweet slop. This was….well, not like that.

For more information on the infinite variety of Bircher’s muesli, have a look at Felicity Cloake’s recipe from her fascinating “How to cook the perfect…” series, to which I am a devotee. She tries a range of different recipes, old and new, in order to come up with her own, “perfect”, version. Her verdict on using condensed milk is that it makes the dish “jarringly sweet”, which I didn’t find to be the case, although in my recipe there is only one dessert-spoon of the stuff between four portions, a little less than a teaspoon each, which I think was an amount which worked well. She ditches the brown sugar for the same reason, and I’m sure it could happily be jettisoned, especially if you soaked the oats in apple juice rather than water. My main disagreement with Felicity is that she considers the lemon to be unnecessary if you’re not using the condensed milk – the sharpness not needed if the sweetness is not there. While I’m sure her recipe is perfectly lovely itself, it was the lemon zesty-ness that elevated this dish into the realm of the delicious for me, and stayed with me long after the bowl had been scraped clean.

Bircher Muesli, 1928-style

For four people

Three-quarter teacup of rolled oats, soaked overnight, the cup being filled up with water.

Four medium-sized apples.

Grated rind of one lemon and half the juice.

One dessert spoon brown sugar

One dessert spoon thick cream (or condensed milk)

Grated nuts

Grate the whole of the apples, leaving out only the stalk and the pips. Add the lemon juice and grated rind. Pour off any superfluous water, and add the soaked rolled oats. Lastly, add the sugar and cream, and mix all well together. Grated nuts may be sprinkled over it if wanted – or taken with it at table. This may be made with bananas or other fruit in place of the apples.

Categories
1900-1949 Food & Drink Victorian

Vintage Recipes – Brown Windsor Soup

Brown Windsor Soup – surely the stuff that the British Empire was built on? I know of it through Tony Hancock ordering it in an unappetising 1950s canteen, the Carry On team being served it for dinner it like unadventurous Brits in Carry on Abroad, and, well, in numerous other comedy settings from the 50s to the 70s. It’s famously the dull embodiment of dreary British cuisine and looks a bit like sludge. Although I can’t remember the ingredients ever being specified, I imagined it as a kind of thin, liquidised beef stew.

So it rather blew my mind to learn on Wikipedia that, in all likelihood, Brown Windsor Soup never actually existed as an actual, real thing from Victorian or Edwardian times. It was first included on the odd menu in the 1920s and 30s and thereafter apparently mainly used as a jokey kind of reference to terrible, dull British food.

Michael Quinion has investigated, and makes the claim that Brown Windsor Soup is first mentioned in print as late as 1943 – in the book The Fancy by Monica “great-granddaughter of Charles” Dickens. He has a few theories as to where the name came from. Firstly, there was White Windsor Soup, an undeniably real Victorian dish. Secondly, Brown Windsor Soap was also a definite, very famous, type of soap. And so there might have been some kind of confusion between these two items, or possibly a deliberate mashup of them both, for satirical purposes or otherwise.

I decided I wasn’t going to take Wikipedia’s word for this. I was going to uncover some true Brown Windsor Soup, as enjoyed by Queen Victoria. Wading through The British Newspaper Archive, the extensive search results that immediately popped up looked promising. However, on closer investigation, it was a quirk of the reading software of the Archive, which isn’t always entirely accurate on account of the age of the papers scanned, and the tiny typefaces that can be used. Every result referred to Brown Windsor Soap, not soup.

However. There is another type of Victorian soup that may have been the Brown Windsor in all but specific name – the vague-sounding “Brown Soup”.

In basic form, this could be “Beef Tea” – either in invalid cookery form or as a kind of Bovril drink, like this one, “Bouillon Fleet” from 1889:

Aberdeen Journal, 16th March 1889
Aberdeen Journal, 16th March 1889

Or here on this restaurant menu in 1890, which was probably a more substantial version:

Shields Daily Gazette, 24th March 1890
Shields Daily Gazette, 24th March 1890

And it was served as a starter at the New Year’s Dinner at a “Home for Old Men and Women” in Glasgow, 1895. This stereotypical Victorian menu consisted of brown soup, beef-steak pie and plum pudding.

Glasgow Herald, 2nd January 1895
Glasgow Herald, 2nd January 1895

Talking of pudding – look! A recipe for “Brown Windsor pudding” in 1897. It’s a spiced fruit steamed pudding which sounds gorgeous. I’m guessing that this was a reference to the aforementioned soap, which was also advertised as containing spices such as cinnamon. If there was spiced food based on the soap, then maybe “Brown Windsor Soup” should properly also be cinnamonned, gingered and cloved, a bit like Mulligatawny soup?

Dundee Courier, 22nd December 1897
Dundee Courier, 22nd December 1897

Here’s a 1913 recipe for brown soup. It’s made of beef and vegetables, but made extra brown with the addition of Bovril and browning. None more brown.

Northampton Mercury, 26th December 1913
Northampton Mercury, 26th December 1913

And one from 1916, with instructions on how to make the soup extra brown, by browning the flour in front of the fire.

The People's Journal, 4th November 1916
The People’s Journal, 4th November 1916

And another one. It all sounds quite nice to me.

The Arbroath Herald, 1th September 1925
The Arbroath Herald, 1th September 1925

The first actual mention of “Brown Windsor soup” I found, on a Hartlepool menu from 1928. It was from Binns’ Restaurant – perhaps they invented it?

Hartlepool Mail, 1st February 1928
Hartlepool Mail, 1st February 1928

A 1928 recipe for Brown Soup here, using vermicelli to thicken, if wished.

Western Gazette, 13th April 1928
Western Gazette, 13th April 1928

Brown Windsor still being served at Binns’ in Hartlepool in 1931:

Hartlepool Mail, 2nd October 1931
Hartlepool Mail, 2nd October 1931

A prize-winning brown soup recipe from 1931. I suspect that the winner, Mrs G. Walker, had seen the “Everything That Is Good” recipe above, in 1928. Veeerry similar.

The Western Gazette, 17th April 1931
The Western Gazette, 17th April 1931

Windsor soup was finally commercially available in the 1940s. Batchelor’s version is here, although it wasn’t called “Brown”. Tinned foods were handy in wartime, it’s “A meal in itself” and could be heated “at the minimum of fuel cost”. Although “quantities are rather limited and a little patience may be needed,” in order to obtain some. Emphasizing its potential scarcity makes it sound more desirable, of course.

Nottingham Evening Post, 2nd June, 1942
Nottingham Evening Post, 2nd June, 1942

Finally, the last reference I found. Because The British Newspaper Archive only goes up to the mid-1950s, so far. I love the Britishness of the “If you must eat out…”

Berwick Advertiser, 17th March 1955
Berwick Advertiser, 17th March 1955

I wonder when the very last bowl of Brown Windsor soup was eaten? Maybe there are people still making it out there, although what their recipe is, who knows? I couldn’t find anything specifying what makes “Brown Soup” different from “Brown Windsor”, if there even is a difference. And so, now I feel the need to invent my own version – a very gently spiced, very brown, beefy, vegetabley kind of concoction. Watch this space.

Update – thanks to Steve in the comments below, who let me know that there was now a date of 1926 as the first reference on Wikipedia. This is it:

Portsmouth Evening News, 24th February 1926
Portsmouth Evening News, 24th February 1926

And after some more research I’ve found a 1926 reference to Brown Windsor in Binns’, earlier than the 1928 version above. Still a few months later than the one in the Portsmouth Evening News though.

Hartlepool Mail, 21st May 1926
Hartlepool Mail, 21st May 1926
Hartlepool Mail, 21st May 1926
Hartlepool Mail, 21st May 1926
Categories
1900-1949 Food & Drink

German Invalid Cookery, 1922

Another peek at a book from the brilliant Forgotten Books website, and one which includes one of my favourite topics – the disappeared art of invalid cookery. This book, “The Art of German Cooking and Baking” by Mrs Lina Meier is a general cookbook from 1922. I like looking at the slight through-the-looking-glass effect of recipes from other countries with their different ingredients and food traditions.

Pre-NHS (in the UK), there were a lot of sick people being looked after in the home, and effective medicines for many diseases were either new or non-existent. If you look at any cookery book from Victorian times to pre-World War Two, you’ll find a chapter on “Invalid Cookery“, aimed to help those looking after sick loved ones, and designed to be appropriately nutritious and easily digestible. However, they are significantly different to what we might think of as food for sick people now. When I’m ill I want either Heinz Tomato Soup, toast and butter or my mum’s mashed potato. When I was a kid the upside to feeling ill was that it was the only time you could have Lucozade. It would have been weird to drink it while not ill in the 1970s. However, if anyone had tried to give me toast water or raw minced beef soaked in lukewarm water, I wouldn’t have considered that my first choice to settle my stomach.

Looking at the Invalid Cookery section, this doesn’t differ much from what was suggested for British invalids – a lot of beef tea and bouillons.

We’re getting on the train to crazy town now, though – with “Fried Calf’s Brain” and “Calf’s Tongue” being offered as suitable sickness foods. Also “macaroni” is classed as a vegetable for some reason.

Mmmm, invalid puddings. It starts off sensibly and recognisably with a kind of rice pudding, but quickly starts getting quite raw-eggy. “Chocolate Cream with Red Wine”, is a strange chocolately-wine cross between a jelly and an uncooked meringue. I object to “Beaten Egg” (ingredients – egg and salt) being classed as a “sweet dish”. Interestingly, there are strict instructions on where to beat the egg – “The egg should be beaten in a well-ventilated room only, because the air in the room influences the nourishment served to the invalid.”

There’s lots of “foam” recipes – “Red wine foam” on this page. Very cheffy, circa 2013. Ice cream “can often be given to invalids without harm”. I think I’ll pick that, please.

I can’t help noticing that invalids were expected to drink quite a lot of wine. It’s in nearly all the recipes. Here there’s the disgusting-sounding “Milk Lemonade” – water, sugar, milk, lemon juice and, of course, white wine. Even the ascetic-sounding “Water with Lemon Juice” contains sherry.

This is an interesting recipe – “Iron and Wine“. Iron deficiency was a big problem then, as it still is now. In fact, I recently read about a simple remedy to combat endemic anaemia seen in parts of the world today – an Iron fish which you add to your cooking pot, and which leaches out small amounts of iron into the food. In 1922, you could either have your Pink Pills for Pale People or you could cut to the chase and add iron filings directly into your wine, like the kind of reckless experiment I would have done with my chemistry set aged 9. Ignoring the iron, which I imagine would give the wine a bit of a bloody tang, wine with ginger and horseradish sounds pretty exciting.

More for the alcoholic invalid here – “White Wine Soup”, “Red Wine Soup” and “Beer Soup”.

“Cow Udder”, anyone?

Moving on from Invalid Cookery, some general baking now. The directions for “1 1/2 cents’ worth of yeast” in the ingredients didn’t make these recipes very time-proof.

Berliner pancakes, of John F. Kennedy fame:

I object to to this one – “English Cake“. It contains ammonia as a raising agent, not something I believe is traditional in English cookery, but is seen in German and Greek baking. Ammonia, though. Apparently, it smells as a raw ingredient but the aroma bakes off during cooking. I don’t think I’d chance it, to be honest – the fear of ending up with “Cat Litter Cake” would be too much.

“English Bride’s Cake” here – still the traditional wedding fruit cake.

I like this recipe for “natural” green food dye – soaking coffee beans in egg white to produce a green colour.

Finally, another “English” recipe – “English Chow Chow”, . It’s a kind of piccalilli, although I think the name “chow chow” only lives on in parts of the US now.

Categories
1900-1949 Food & Drink

Vintage recipes – Old Fashioned Macaroni and Cheese, 1910

Macaroni cheese is probably my ultimate in comfort food (well, second to my mum’s world-beating mashed potato). It sounds to me like a fairly modern, American invention – after all, I thought the British were introduced to proper pasta in about 1975. At least, I’ve got a promotional pasta cookery pamphlet from 1978 that talks about its chosen foodstuff as a new and original thing. (It also has a strange lasagne recipe too – no meat sauce at all, just béchamel on every layer with chopped ham. I need to try it one day.)

But no! I was as wrong in this assumption as I could be. It turns out a version of mac ‘n’ cheese is in what might be the world’s oldest cookery book, Forme of Cury, from the late fourteenth century. There, it consists of fresh dough boiled in sheets and sandwiched in layers of cheese and butter. A bit like that lasagne from 1978. Elizabeth Raffald provides the first macaroni cheese recipe we’d properly recognise, in her The Experienced English Housekeeper of 1769, and Mrs Beeton included two recipes for it in her 1861 Book of Household Management.

And my excellent copy of Mrs Rea’s Cookery Book from 1910 has its own version too, below.

Ruth Goodman’s Victorian Farm tells me that the word macaroni in 19th Century recipes was used to describe all shaped pasta and that the macaroni usually available in Victorian shops was very thick and required a long cooking time to soften. This explains the timing of an hour’s boiling in my Edwardian recipe, I expect, rather than a preference for boiling it to a mush, like their carrots. The macaroni also came in long tubes, which you had to cut into smaller lengths yourself. And apparently it also needed washing.

8Mrs-Rea-macaronicheese

I gave it a go, changing a few things for the modern world.

No boiling of the macaroni for a hour, and no browning it in front of a fire, sadly. Also, I’m not sure how many people the recipe is intended for, as the book doesn’t mention this for any of the recipes. But 3oz of pasta was not enough for two greedy 21st century portions so I upped the amount to 5oz. It’s unusual that there is more cheese by weight than macaroni in the recipe – despite adding more pasta, I kept the sauce amounts exactly the same, and it worked fine. Although the recipe seems to guide you to throw all the sauce ingredients together without cooking but maybe white sauces were too obvious to give much direction for. I like that soft cheese curds were also an option instead of the grated hard cheese.

Here it is.

Macaroni and Cheese.

3oz macaroni (I used 5oz)
4oz cheese
1oz flour
1 1/2oz butter
1/2 pint milk
Pepper, salt, cayenne, 1/2 tsp mustard powder

Wash the macaroni, drop it in short lengths into 1 pint boiling water. Add a little salt and 1/2 oz butter. Cook gently about 1 hour, then drain.

Grate the cheese or, if soft, press with a wooden spoon through a wire sieve. Put 1 oz of butter into a saucepan with the flour. Mix and add the milk and seasonings. Stir in 3oz of the cheese, add the macaroni, and mix.

Turn into a hot, greased pie dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over. Brown in front of fire. Serve very hot.

Old fashioned macaroni and cheese, in a pie dish
Old fashioned macaroni and cheese, in a pie dish

It was definitely of the old, plain school of macaroni cheese, which would be too non-jazzed-up to be included in a recipe book these days. But that what I like about Mrs Rea – good, solid, day to day recipes that work, rather than a recipes dreamed up by a celebrity chef purely in order to have an original theme for their new cook book.  Plain it might be, but lovely, smooth and tasty nonetheless. I will be making it again. In fact, writing this post now, I wish there was some left that I could eat Nigella-style in front of the fridge, but it’s all gone.

Categories
1900-1949 Adverts Food & Drink

Eat More Fat, 1937

“Atora puddings solve the difficult problem of children who dislike fat.”

Not a sentence I can imagine would be used in today’s advertising. These adverts are from The Children’s Newspaper, and it is true that children do need fat – apart from other things, fat helps in the development of brain cells. Did you know that the brain can contain up to 60% fat? (More in some people’s cases….) Fat is of course one of those food groups that was celebrated, then demonised, and recently started to be rehabilitated as a useful part of your diet. My grandma could eat a mound of fat – she preferred the fat to the meat – and she was slim all her life and lived to a good old age too.

“Medical testimony proves that the children – and adults – with weakly and “chesty” tendencies, who most need nourishing fat, are the ones who don’t like it.”

Oh, I do like the idea of eating suet puddings for the good of your health. I’m sure the 1930s style diet is worth a try. I’m quite tempted to try something along the lines of this blog, The 1940s Experiment, where a woman lost weight by following Second World War rationing recipes. I could try the 1920s-30s version, the typical diet from just before rationing came in (well, it sounds more fun anyway – apart from the Mice in Honey). Nourishing Rowntree’s Chocolate Crisps all round!

The Children's Newspaper, 8th May 1937
The Children’s Newspaper, 8th May 1937
The Children's Newspaper, 8th May 1937
The Children’s Newspaper, 8th May 1937