The Art and Mystery of Food

Grandmother's Cookery

Rachel Laudan recently made the point that while there have been much dietry advise given along the lines that we 'should not eat food that our [great] grandmothers wouldn't recognise as food' (i.e. don't eat "processed" foods), the fact of the matter is that is is actually very difficult for us to know exactly what our ancestors recognised as food. While the way people interact with food has changed hugely in the last century, most commentary in the general media have only placed emphasis on the fact that the average Westerner should feel bloody guilty about their relationship with food. Everything was better in the old days (except in the UK where people have a somewhat disfunctional relationship with their food history - "Food is much better now then in the past" v "Food was much better and wholesome in past"). Well it maybe difficult to know what people thought about the food they were eating, but at least in the England we can look at some of their eating trends. Below is a graph of household consumption in England from the post war period until the mid-90's.

Well one thing is clear from this, if "grandma's chicken" tasted better, not many people knew about it as very little of it was being eaten before the 1960's. Cabbage is less popular also it seems....

As both of my grandmothers have recently died, all of this made me think that it is a worthwhile exercise writing down what I can remember about the food they cooked for me.  For some background, Grandmother Pickles was of British descent and lived on a relatively isolated Australian farm. The farm was mostly sheep and grain, but for family consumption there was a milk-cow, chickens, pigeons and geese as well as the endless mutton.  Baka Balic came from a very poor rural family in Croatia, but in Australia lived in a middle-class suburban home - no animals. She worked as a house-keeper for an even more middle-class family, converting the rose garden into a potato patch in her spare time

 

Grandma Pickles:

1. Roast leg of hogget/mutton - my uncles killed a weather once every 7-10 days
2. Chops - from the above
3. Shepard's Pie - made from left over roast - as it should be
4. Liver, eggs, bacon and kidneys -served for breakfast the day after the kill
5. Roast veg, mashed potatoes (sometimes mixed with swede/pumpkin)
6. Pressed tongue
7. Mushrooms on toast - when in season my grandmother would take me out to pick buckets of field mushrooms (Agaricus campestris), which were cooked in butter and milk.
8. Eggs - from free ranging hens of various breeds, poached fried or boiled
9. Hogget/mutton stew - carrots, onions, celery, barley
10. Chicken Stew - as above, made with excess cockerels, which were far too tough roast
11. Mince - as above , made with mince
12. Chicken with Apricots - chicken cooked in apricot nectar with a packet of dried French onion soup mix, pasta added towards the end.
13. Toad in the Hole - sausages poached in a curry flavoured white sauce, not the usual dish of the same name of sausages baked in a Yorkshire Pudding batter.
14. Sausages, rissoles (sausage meat balls)
15. Roast Goose, Orange Jelly, Ham (canned). All served for Christmas, geese raised on the farm. The jelly was made with orange juice and mint and served with the goose
16. Roast Ducks - during shooting season
17. Green salad - very rare
18. Rice Pudding - yes cooked in an wood fired stove
19. Jelly/Flummery - commercial jelly mix, Flummery was this made with milk, rather then water
20. Junket
21. Ice cream
22. Stewed fruit -in season
23. Tinned fruit - huge amounts of tinned peaches
24. Scones - made regularly, especially during the shearing season
25. Jam (tinned, normally plum) and Bread (sliced white), Salted Butter
26. Sandwiches of all sorts
27. Cups of milky tea
28. As a special treat I would be taken into the local town (1.5 hours drive) to go to a Chinese restuarant and I would have "Special Fried Rice" and a bottle of Coke bought for me, followed by "Deep fried icecream".

Baka Balic:

1. Chicken Noodle Soup (all main meals started with this soup)
2. Home made Bread, un-salted, cultured Butter
3. Roast Pork
4. Roast Chicken
5. Veal schnitzel
6. Cevapcici
7. Roast Turkey with Mlinci - an Easter meal
8. Green bean salad  - beans dressed with garlic, olive oil and vinegar while hot, searved cold
9. Green Salads - very common
10. Bean Soup
11. Sauerkraut Soup
12. Stuffed Cabbage Leaves
13. Stuffed Peppers
14. Baked Fish
15. Strudel (walnuts or poppy seeds or apple)
16. Polenta
17. Gnocchi
18. Seafood Risotto (rare)
19. Papricka stew
20. Spit roasted pig or lamb - for large family gatherings
21. Cured meats
22. Cakes and biscuits

 

This is what I can recall of meals mostly made in the 1970-80's. I'm not sure that either of my grandmothers actually enjoyed cooking. Certainly it wasn't a hobby or passion for either of them, it was a duty. Which isn't to say that the food was made grudgingly or was bad, actually it was very good. Baka in particular was a stellar cook. But, ultimately cooking was something that they had to do, at least twice a day, every day. However, I think cookery was easier for them then for me, after all I have to produce family meals day after day and work full time which means being out of the house. The daily grind of providing a family with meals can be very wearisome, not matter how passionate you are about food.

So I don't think that either of them would have objected too much to processed foods. Grandma Pickles could have preserved fruit until the cows came home (literally), but she didn't. She bought in tinned fruit in thick sugar syrup. In terms of what I eat now, well I think that this would have been quite shocking for them. I eat a much wider range of foodstuffs then either of them, from a much broader range of ethnic backgrounds. I'm pretty sure that they would have considered much of the ethnic foods to be beyond the Pale. So I'm not going to feel too guilty about my relationship with food, I was very lucky to have had the influences of my grandmothers cookery, but I am just as lucky to be in the position of being passionate about cookery having been exposed to a whole range of foods that are completely outwith my grandmothers experiences. 

Historical Sources of Early Scottish Haggis

A few years ago I wrote about an early manuscript source for Scottish haggis, making the point that this early 18th century Scottish recipe looked much the same as English recipes from the 16-17th century. Further research over the years has turned up very few other early Scottish haggis recipes. While we have references to the haggis in Scotland as early as the first half of the 16th century (about 100 years after the first mention in English sources), the first recipe published in Scotland was at the end of the 18th century. This was several centuries after the first published English haggis recipe. This has resulted in some difficulty for some modern Scots, the Haggis is a national treasure, a modern Scottish icon, so how can it be shared with England?

One point that is rarely made though is that by the time Scotlands first cookery book was published in the first half of the 18th century, many dozens of cookery books had been published in England. Simply due to the huge amount of cookery material produced in England from the 16th century onward, this will obviously have a large impact on the development of cookery in Scotland. Specifically, the haggis was a relatively common recipe in English cookery texts. Historical inventories of books from private households in Scotland list many English cookery books. Looking through the texts 18th century Scottish cookery books, it is actually rather hard to see much evidence of a purely Scottish cookery tradition. Least you should think that these books are not actually representative of the food cooked and eaten in Scotland, it is worth knowing that these cookery books were written by Scottish cookery teachers. They were not only producing cookery texts, they were teaching Scottish women how to cook, an by and large these women were being taught how to cook dishes that were common to England and Scotland.

This is reflected many of the Scottish cookery manscripts of the 18th century: 

The National Library of Scotland, Manuscript Ms.10281, Dumfries (1722-1764) 

 'A Large Collection of Choice Recipes for Cookrie, Pastrie. Milks, Sauces, Candying, Confectionating, and Preserving of Fruits. Flowers, etc'

.................................................

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That such Receipts as marked (E) are taken from an English Manuscript, wherefore Whatever Weights or Measures are mentioned  in any of these Receipts, must be understood to be of the weights and measures of England: And those marked (*) are such as are taught by one of the best Paistrie Mistrises in Edinburgh to her Schollars - Mrs Johnston"

So not only were Scottish cooks using printed English sources they were obtaining recipes from English manuscripts also. Interestingly, this 18th century Scottish cookery manuscript has a very rare mention of a recipe for a haggis:

The National Library of Scotland, Manuscript Ms.10281, Dumfries (1722) 

"A Haggish Pudding

Take a fat Haggish, parboil it very well, take out the Kernals, shred small, temper it it with a handful or two of grate Manchote; then take 3 or 4 eggs well beaten, Rosewater, sugar, cloves, Nutmegs, cinnamon & Mace, Currans & Marrow good store, temper them all together, with a quantity of Cream, being first moderately Seasoned with salt."

 

The lovely thing about this specific recipe is the original source can be traced. Although the recipe is not marked as coming from either an English manscript or Scottish cookery teacher, the recipe is near identical to a recipe published in England:

 

The Ladies Cabinet Opened (1639) Printed by M.P. for Richard Meighen, London.

"To make a Haggesse Pudding

Take a fat Haggesse; purboyle it well, take out the Kernels, shred it small, and temper it with a handfull or two of grated Manchet, then take three or foure Egges wel beaten, Rosewater and Sugar, Cloves, Nutmegs, Sinnamon, Mace, very finely beaten, Currants and Marrow good store, temper them altogether, with a fit quantity of Creame, being first moderately seasoned with Salt."

 

The Ladies Cabinet Enlarged and Opened by M.B. (1654), London.

"To make a Haggesse Pudding

Take a fat Haggesse; perboil it wel, take out the Kernels, shred it smal, and temper it with a handful or two of grated Manchet, then take three or four Eggs wel beaten, Rosewater and Sugar, Cloves, Nutmegs, Cinnamon, Mace, very finely beaten, Currans and Marrow good store, temper them all together, with a fit quantity of Cream, being first moderately seasoned with Salt."

 

Comparing the three copies of the recipe, it seems most likely that the 1654 recipe is the source of Scottish recipe, but even so these is a very large gap between 1654 and the date of the Scottish manuscript recipe collection. Was the Scottish recipe copied directly from the cookery book, or was it passed from person to person until it was written down in this Scottish collection? Irrespective of this, it worth noting just how much Scottish cookery in the 18th century was influenced by English sources, even for the iconic Haggis.  I don't think that this takes anything away from the modern Scottishness of the Haggis. Haggis isn't an English dish anymore, but it is very much part of modern Scottish culture. The Scots should be rightly proud that they still have a dish with such a long history of production and consumption. The vast majority of dishes have a relatively recent origin, to be able to trace the history of this dish that is now eaten on a daily basis, back to the 15th century is very very rare. Does it matter if most of the history was a shared history or do we have to re-brand our own history as well to feel comfortable in our own skins?

 

Finally I would like to thank the Trustees of the National Library of Scotland for permission to reproduce these recipes.

Did Burns Know the Neep?

 

 Above: The trinity of Haggis, neeps and tatties as produced by The University of Edinburgh's catering department.

 Each year on the 25th of January the poetry and life of the 18th century Scottish poet Robert Burns is celebrated by thousands of people around the world as a de facto Scottish National  Day. Central to these celebrations is the Burns' Supper, where there is a recital of Burns' "Address To a Haggis" and the consumption of Haggis. By and large, the Haggis is always served with sides of Tatties (mashed potatoes) and Neeps (mashed swedish turnip/swede/rutabaga). Neither of these latter two items is mentioned by Burns in his poems, but the combination of these three items is now seen as essential, as they perfectly capture the essense of one aspect of the Scottish character, as described by Burns. Honest, uncomplicated, unfussy and egalitarian. Not that this has always been the case, earlier menus for Burns' Supper were rather more grand, with no mention of Haggis or neeps. In fact Haggis is only added to this very Scottish themed dinner menu in later editions of Meg Dods' "'The Cook's and Housewife's Manual". Given how central Haggis, Neeps and Tatties are to the modern Scottish national identity, how and when did this occur?

 

 The Cook's and Housewife's Manual (1828)

 

 

 The Cook's and Housewife's Manual (1847)

 

What is a "Neep"?

Most sources on the subject state that in Scotland there is a root vegetable known as a "Neep", which is the same vegetable as the English "Swede". The popular explanation of this difference in name is that "Swede" is a contraction of "Swedish turnip", which distinguishes it from other types of turnips grown in England, whereas in Scotland, only this one type of turnip is commonly grown, therefore the "Swedish" bit was dropped and turnip was contracted to "Neep". As it happens, this is not correct. "Neep" is not a contraction, it is actually quite the opposite. The Old English for turnip is "næp" from Latin "napus" (turnip). "Turnip" basically indicates the round rooted nature of the Neep, just as "Pasnip" indicates a carrot/parsnip like Neep ("Parsnip" is the combination of the Latin "pastinaca" (carrot/parsnip) and Neep/Nip). Simple. The Scots are not the only people in the UK to use the term Neep, until the begining of the 20th century it was a common term in much of England. Most Scots that I know don't tend to use the term Neep, more often the vegetable is called a "turnip".  So how does a turnip different to a swedish turnip? Is it simply a matter of colour?

While it is true that most modern varieties of British turnip are white fleshed and Swedish turnips yellow, this is not definative. Some strains of turnip are yellow fleshed and there are also white fleshed swedish turnips. In 19th century Scotland it was the a yellow fleshed variety of turnip, not Swedish turnip that was especially prized.

Turnips, plain.

"Of turnips there are many varieties. Choose the pale yellow, small, fine-grained, juicy sorts. Pare off all that would be woody and stringy when boiled. Boil in plenty of water for from three-quarters of an hour to nearly two hours, according to the age and size. Swedish, four hours. Drain and serve them whole, or, if too large, divided, or, best of all mashed. A bit of the green top-shoot is left on early white turnips, and melted butter or white sauce poured over them. Swedish turnip-tops are delicate greens when young. If boiled in their coats, and then pared, old Swedish turnips will be more juicy."

 

 

In fact while the two vegetables are very similar there are some very important differences.

The Triangle of U

 As noted above, the turnip (Brassica rapa var. rapa) was cultivated since ancient times, however the Swedish Turnip ( Brassica napus var. napobrassica) was first documented in the 17th century. The Swedish turnip is not simply a variety of turnip, but a complicated hybrid of a turnip and cabbage. As determined experimentally by the Korean botanist Woo Jang-choon in the 1930's, as the number of chromosomes differs between these two species, in order to produce a fertile hybrid between a turnip and a cabbage the chromosome content in any fertile progeny must be doubled. So a cabbage has 18 chromosomes, the  turnip has 20, but the Swedish turnip has 38 chromosomes. This also means that the new hybrid is unable to cross breed easily with its parents. Thus, the Swedish turnip is a turnipy cabbage or a cabbagey turnip, combining traits from both parents. While Woo delibrately created these hybrids, it seems that the Swedish turnip was created serendipitously, prehaps no earlier then the 16th century.

Introduction of the Swedish Turnip to Scotland

By the middle of the 18th century, the agricultural developments that had taken place in England began to be applied to Lowland Scotland. At the beginning of the 18th century, farming in Scotland was conducted in a manner that was essential the same as that of the Medieval period. Fields were cultivated using a three year cycle, in the first and second year crops were planted, in the third the land was allowed to go fallow. This practice placed limitations on the amount food that could be grown for human consumption and did not allow grazing of food animals. One outcome of this was that the raising of cattle in Scotland was servely limited. Without pasture grazing or winter foods cattle starved and so did the people, as can be seen in the following accounts:

General View of the Agriculture of the County of Ayr (1793)

".....the agriculture of Ayrshire was in a most wretched condition. There was scarcely a practicable road; the farmers' houses were mere hovels; the lands were overrun with weeds and rushes. The arable farms were small, for the tenants had not stock for larger occupations; the tenure was bad, and the tenant harassed by a multitude of vexutious services to the landlord. The land, divided into the croft or infield, and outfield, was either neglected or worn out by successive crops of oats, as long as they would pay for seed and labour, or by an ill-managed rotation of two or three successive crops of oats, one of bear (or four-rowed barley), followed by a year of rest. The wretched condition of the country may be judged of by the fact, that little butchers' meat was used by the farmers, except a portion salted at Martinmas for winter stock; porridge, oatmeal cakes, and some milk or cheese, constituted the chief of their diet. Even in the town of Ayr, containing from 4 000 to 5000 inhabitants, not more than fifty head of cattle were slaughtered annually. A succession of bad seasons, at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth centuries, obliged hundreds of families to fly for subsistence to the north of Ireland; and the poor were not unfrequently obliged to subsist by bleeding their cattle, and mixing the blood with any oatmeal they could procure."

"Although, therefore, the practice of draining, enclosing, the cultivation of artificial grasses, turnips, and potatoes had been introduced by the middle of the last century to a limited extent in the south-east part of the kingdom, on the estates of some of the land proprietors who paid attention to agriculture, their example was not followed by the tenantry generally, who laboured under a great deficiency of capital, and who were unwilling to adopt changes till they saw them succeed when tried by men in their own rank. Green crops being almost unknown, fresh animal food could not be obtained during one half of the year. Each family salted in October or November its supply of beef till Whitsunday. If the cattle were alive in the spring, and able to go to the pastures without assistance, it was thought sufficient."

 "In the spring, their cattle were so weak, that when they lay down, they could not rise of themselves till they lifted them up. They fell into mosses and quagmires through weakness, and were drowned. In the spring season, it was a constant custom to gather their neighbours together, to assist in lifting their cows and horses, and to drag them out of moss holes."

Most cattle had to be slaughtered at the begining of Winter, and those that were kept only barely made it through until the new feed grew in late spring. So weak were they that that had to be carried out to pasture. Traditional farming is not automatically kinder to animals then more modern methods it seems.

 

 Above: Turnips varieties; White, red topped, Swedish and green tankard types.

 

All this was to change with the introduction of a seemingly magical vegetable in the mid-18th century. That vegetable is obviously the turnip. By the mid-18th century the four year crop rotation method had been introduced into the England. This was one of the key events in the Agricultural Revolution of the 18th century. Rather then having two years of crops then a fallow year, the four year crop rotation (generally wheat, barley, turnips then clover) ment that fields could be kept in continous production, with the additional benefit of being able to support sheep and cattle. More sheep and cattle in turn ment more manure and thus an ability to futher improve the fertility of arable soils. When this system of agriculture was introduced in Scotland it had several major and immediate effects. With increased stock and the possibility of over-wintering cattle, peoples diets changed. Fresh meat became avaible throughout the winter:

The Farmer's Magazine (1837)

 "....until the introduction of turnip husbandry, all fat stock was, of course, grass fed; and if they were kept on during the ensuing winter, their condition fell off and had again to be made up in the summer of the ensuing year. Meat markets were thus only supplied in summer, and people were then content to eat salt meat all winter. Turnips at length afforded fat meat fed in winter, all of which was readily consumed at home, but, by the extension of their cultivation, a portion of the fat stock was exported to England. The southern counties of Scotland first cultivated the turnip, and, of course, first enjoyed the benefits of feeding cattle in winter."

So turnip cultivation gave Scotland an oppertunity to increase the number of cattle farmed, however, Scotland is not England and has its own specific issues - even in farming. Problems were found with keeping turnips in good condition during the early spring, as they tended to either rot or sprout, which lowers their fodder quality. The solution to this was to trial other similar root vegetables - enter the Swedish Turnip:

Letters and papers on agriculture, planting, &c (1792)

"Extract of a letter from a Gentleman in Scotland concerning the Ruta-baga.

I Have introduced into this country the Ruta-Baga, or Swedish Turnip, conceiving that it might be of great use as an article of green food after the month of March, when usually our common turnips run all to seed, and we find ourselves at a loss for food until our grass grounds are ready; which they seldom are until the first week of May: hence my experience of this plant is mostly confined to the spring."

The Statistical Account of Scotland  by Sir John Sinclair (1793)

"The Ruta baga or Swedish turnip, was introduced into this parish [Kilconquhar, Fife] about 4 years ago. Its leaves resemble the rib kail plants, the root resembles field turnip, not so large in general, but heavier in proportion to its size, and of much firmer texture. It is believed, that as great weight of this root may be raised on an acre, as of field turnip; this plant seems to be gaining ground here; it is proof against the most intense frost; the season for sowing it is from the 1st to the 20th May; it may either be transplanted as cabbage, or managed as field turnip."

But just as the Scots experimented with Swedish Turnips as an animal food, they also tried it themselves:

 Letters and papers on agriculture, planting, &c (1792)

Extract of a letter from a Gentleman in Scotland concerning the Ruta-baga.

"In winter I began taking up a few for my table; they seemed in general smaller than our common turnips, and longer, mostly of the figure and size of a quart bottle ; but twice as heavy as a turnip of the fame size. For their use for the table, I can confidently recommend' them as of superior flavour, so much so indeed, that after eating them none of my family would taste the other turnips."

 So not only did the Scots find the Swedish turnip edible, they found it delicious. In Edinburgh at least, the non-Swedish types of turnips had been part of the normal fair of high and low class Scots for centuries. Interesting, in addition to eating them cooked in various ways, they were also consumed raw - much to the amazment of the English.

The Songstresses of Scotland (1871)

"In a dearth of fruit for dessert at the dinner-tables of the principal men in Edinburgh, an English traveller remarked that dishes of small raw turnips — called " neeps " by the natives — were eaten with avidity."

 

"The Expedition of Humphry Clinker" by Tobias Smollett (1771)

"You know we used to vex poor Murray, of Baliol College, by asking', if there was really no fruit but turnips in Scotland. Sure enough, I have seen turnips make their appearance, not as a dessert, but by way of hors d'oeuvres, or whets, as radishes are served up betwixt more substantial dishes in France and Italy . But it must be observed, that the turnips of this country are as much superior in sweetness, delicacy, and flavour, to those of England, as a musk melon is to the stock of a common cabbage. They are small and conical, of a yellowish colour, with a very thin skin; and, over and above their agreeable taste, are valuable for their antiscorbutic quality."

Prehaps a taste for raw turnips is the inspiration for this 19th century Edinburgh market cry:

"Whae'll buy neeps? - neeps like sucre! whae'll buy neeps?"

So from a late 18th century agricultural innovation, the Swedish turnip gradually appeared on the Scottish plate throughout the 19th century, and by the end of the 19th century we first see mention of Neeps and Haggis together.

 

Robert Burns certainly would have known the "Neep", or turnip, but given that he died in 1796, only a few years after the Swedish Turnip had been cultivated in Scotland for the first time on a small scale experimental basis, it is very unlikely that he ever ate the modern dish of "bashed Neeps" (Swedish Turnips) that is now the staple of every dinner given in his honour. The introduction of turnip cultivation brought Scottish agriculture out of the Medieval and into the modern era and introduced a year round fresh meat and a new vegetable to the Scottish diet. However, there was another side to agricultural improvement in Scotland, that of the effect on the people that worked the land. Improved land that could support more animals for a small change in actual working practices resulted in a surplus of farm workers. While it doesn't have the historical glamour of the Highland Clearances, the Lowland Clearances resulted in the displacement of thousands of Lowland Scots and the enlargement and development of towns such as Glasgow. Turnips replaced people, during the period of the later Highland clearances, Elizabeth Gordon, 19th Countess of Sutherland was able to write of her husband that "he is seized as much as I am with the rage of improvements, and we both turn our attention with the greatest of energy to turnips". One has to wonder what Burns, the Lowland Ploughman Poet,  would have thought about the Neep in light of the fact that it greatly contributed to so many of the great social changes in Scotland that he observed and commentated on? The humble turnip, the most unfussy and egalitarian of all vegetables, yet within a generation of its introduction "tradional" Scots live styles changed forever.

Kendal Mint Cake

 
Above: Kendal Mint Cake

In general I don't have much of a sweet tooth, but in spite of this I am absolutely mad for Kendal Mint Cake. Of the brands made today the, I prefer the product of George Romney's. Sweet, but never cloying, hard and crisp, but always creamy. It remains a special treat when we go to the Lake District, when most other such sugary treats have been left behind in childhood. So what are the origins of this regional English product? Well according to legend it was invented by Joseph Wiper in the 1860's, when he ruined a batch of Glacier Mints. Although the ingredients are the same, Glacier Mints are a hard clear, glassy candy, where as Mint Cake is white, friable and crystalline. These differences are because of the how the candies are made. Sucrose sugar syrup boiled to 154°C and quickly cooled will form a clear, glassy candy, whereas sugar syrup boiled to soft ball stage (115°C) and continuously stirred will upon cooling will form a mass of tiny interlocking crystals, which give the candy the familiar crisp, but melting texture.

Modern Kendal Mint Cake lists sugar (sucrose), glucose, water and peppermint oil as the only ingredients. As the formation of sucrose crystals is dependent on the of fructose and glucose in the sugar syrup, the addition of extra glucose will change the relative proportions of fructose to glucose and this is one way in which the degree of crystallisation can be controlled during the manufacturing  process. While glucose was first named in 1838 (by Jean Baptiste Andre Dumas) and first isolated from grapes in the 18th century, its usefulness in candy manufacturing wasn't appreciated at first and oftens described by many sources as a form of adulteration.

"grape-sugar, most abundant in the grape, but existing also in most fruits, especially in those with pips and kernels, figs, dates, gooseberries, various cereals, the stalks of maize, &c ......grape-sugar, the manufacture of which was attempted at one time in France, but is now for the most part abandoned, has proved of no practical importance. (1865).

"Grape Sugar.—Glucose; Sugar of Fruits,.—This variety of sugar includes the sugar of grapes, of ripe fruits, of honey, and of seeds; together with the. sugars artificially produced from starch and woody fiberIt is more generally diffused in nature than cane sugar, and is the product of most plants which contain acids or sour juices.

Grape sugar may be abundantly obtained from the juice of ripe grapes and pure honey, by washing with cold alcohol, which dissolves the fluid syrup. It may also be prepared by treating starch with sulphuric acid in the manner already described - sugar from this source has received the distinctive name of glucose, and is very largely employed in Europe for ordinary sweetening purposes, for confectionary, for adulterating" cane sugar, and for the manufacture of spirituous liquors by fermenting and distilling." (1868).

"Cheap candies are not only often poisonous, but badly adulterated with terra alba, corn-starch, and starch-sugar or glucose" (1888).  

"Glucose is extensively used as a substitute for cane-sugar in the manufacture of table-syrup, in brewing, in confectionery, in making artificial honey, and in adulterating cane-sugar, as well as in many minor applications" (1886).

 So if Joseph Wiper did inventMint Cake at this time it would have been seen by many contemporaries as an adultered product. As it happens though he didn't invent Mint Cake. I have a manuscript cookbook listing recpes from towns in Lancashire and Cumbria, in this a recipe for "Mint Cake" of 1837 appears.

 

Manuscript Mint Cake recipe:

"Mint Cake

1/2 Ib Loaf sugar- same of Brown which are boiled with 1/2 teacupful of water. When sufficiently enough take it off the fire and have ready three pennyworth of Oil of Peppermint dropped upon moist sugar in a table spoon and stire it very well into the boiling ingredients which must be taked off & not put on the fire again but poured upon tins."

 In fact this isn't a particularly isolated recipe, although "Mint Cake" as the name of the confection is more restricted. In Scotland the same product as Mint Cake was know by the "Tablet", a confection name that is also locally restricted. Other names by which this confection was known were peppermint lozenges or drops.

 The new whole art of confectionery (1828) by W. S. Steveley

"In this Work will also be found the various methods of Sugar Boiling, and Directions how to make Barley Sugar, Lozenges, Paradise Twist, Peppermint Cake, Candied Ginger, Horehound, Lemonade, Peppermint, and all other sorts of Drops...."

"Candied Peppermint.

Boil three pounds of raw sugar in a pint of water till you perceive your sugar candy round the pan side, then take your pan off the fire, and drop sixteen drops of the oil of peppermint therein, then pour it out into little round hoops made of tin, or butter a large piece of paper, and lay it on your stove, with a square frame on your paper, and pour your sugar on the paper, and it will become all over beautifully spotted, and you may with a knife cut it into what size or shape you please."

Mrs Somerville's Cookery and domestic economy (1862) by Mary  Somerville (Scotland).

"PEPPERMINT TABLET. Put one pound of loaf sugar, broken in small pieces, into a small preserving pan; pour over it a breakfast cupful of cold water, stir it with an iron spoon over the fire gently, until it boils. Cover a baking tin, about half a yard square, with cartridge paper, brush it over with pure olive oil. Stir the sugar over the fire continually, for fifteen minutes, keeping it boiling moderately quick. When you feel it candying on the sides of the pan, remove it from the fire, and scrape the candied portions from the sides of the pan, strew in an ounce of powdered loaf sugar and oil of peppermint to taste, return to the fire, and stir it continually till it boils. Hold it over the fire for one minute, and pour it immediately into the baking pan which has been prepared for it. When cold score it with a knife in square tablets, when it is quite easily broken."

 

The inclusion of peppermint in these early confectionery may have resulted in deliciousness, but in the main the intent was medicinal. Peppermint oil was said to have the properties of being "....stimulating and carminative, and is much used in flatulence, nausea, spasmodic pains of the stomach and bowels, and as a corrigent or adjuvant of other medicines. It is most conveniently given rubbed up with sugar and then dissolved in water". So this medicine was usually taken in the form of mint water, but for the sake of convenience was also used to make candies of various forms. Modern Kendal Mint Cake, famously used as an energy source by climbers and hikers, is a derivative of this process. The major difference between modern Kendal Mint Cake and the older confectionery was the inclusion of glucose to aid in the creation of a desired texture.

 

The Incredible Adventure of Shrimp Paste

Rachel Laudan recently proposed an interesting series questions about how we can track the global migration of foods and recipes. In many of the posts that I have made on this site, I have looked at a recipe that can be easily traced in a relatively linear fashion. However, these cases are likely to be exceptions, rather the the norm. So how do we trace the migration of recipes? The following case of shrimp pastes and fish sauces demonstrate how difficult this can be.

Recently I have been reading as much as I can find on Anglo-Indian foods and customs. It is a fascinating area of research in its own right, but it is also often throws un-expected light on other aspects of food history. One of the centers of Anglo-Indian activity in London was The Oriental Club, which seemed to be entirely populated by ex-colonial stereotypes. One interesting recipe published in a small cookbook titled "Indian Cookery" (1861) by Richard Terry, the club's chef is called "Bullachong":

"Pick and clean 2 quarts of shrimps, or prawns, pound them well in a mortar, rub them through a coarse wire sievve; place them again in the mortar, add 1-oz. of glaze, 2 cloves of garlic, or green ginger, if to be had, 4 chillies pounded very fine, 1 tablespoonfull of tomata sauce, and the juice of half a lemon: beat all well together add 4 tablespoonsfull of ghee, melt 4 pats of butter in an omelette pan, pour in the bullachong, and fry, keeping moving the whole time; place it on your dish, pour gravy round, and serve. This may be kept some time by placing it in bottles, and keeping well corked"

This shrimp paste was most likely intended as a relish to go with other dishes, but what interested me was the resemblance in the name with the modern Malay "Belacan". As part of the 19th century expansion of the British Empire, parts what is now modern Malaysia were formerly the colonies of British Malaya. Prior to this period the British had a huge presence in this region. So is "Bullachong" simply a British adaption of a Malay dish? Are there earlier English references to this dish?

Obviously there are numerous references, two of the earliest are of particular interest:

In the 17th century the adventurer William Dampier describes a fermented fish product in Tonkin (now northern Vietnam)

"To make it, they throw the mixture of shrimps and small fish into a sort of weak pickle, made with salt and water, and put it into a tight earthen vessel or jar. The pickle being thus weak, it keeps not the fish firm and hard, neither is it probably so designed, for the fish are never gutted. Therefore, in a short time they turn all to a mash in the vessel; and when they have lain thus a good while, so that the fish is reduced to a pap, they then draw off' the liquor into fresh jars, and preserve it for use. The masht fish that remains behind is called balachaun, and the liquor poured off is called nuke-mum"

He calls this fish paste "Balachaun". Originally I thought that Dampier may have incorrectly recorded this name, as I could find no modern usage of this term in Vietnam for shrimp/fish paste. However, another 16th century European in the Cochin-Chinese (now southern Vietnam) city of Hoi An describes the following:

"The Cochin-Chinese use a kind of sauce, which they call balachiam, made of salt fish macerated and steeped in water. This is a sharp liquor not unlike mustard, and serves to sharpen the appetite to the rice, which they cannot eat without it ; and for this reason those who can afford it lay in large stocks of it, as Europeans do their stores of wine."

A little further research indicated that in the trading port of Hoi An, a Malay dialect was used, so it is quite possible that Dampier et al., correctly recorded the name of a fish paste/sauce in Vietnam using a Malay term. One slight niggle is that Belacan a shrimp paste and in modern Vietnam shrimp paste is known as "mắm tôm/ruoc " . Well names change over time and even in historical times "shrimp paste" can be made using fish, especially the lower grades. Further evidence that the Anglo-Indian "Bullachong" was a British attempt at Malay Belachan was found in the "The Peoples Indian Cookery Book" (Calcutta, 1900) were a recipe for "Balichow" recommends using "Malacca Balichow". Malacca in Malaysia is still famous for its shrimp sauce/paste products. However, a further complication is also a recipe in the same book for "Balachong". Rather annoyingly there is no description of Balachong, only a method of how to prepare a dish using Balachong (I assume it is a shrimp paste).

A clue to the origin of Balachong is seen in the following 19th century description:

"Gnapee or Nga-pee is made of prawns, shrimps, or any cheap fish, pounded into a consistent mass, and frequently allowed to become partially putrid. It is known in commerce by the name of Balachong, and largely consumed as a condiment to rice in all the countries to the east of Bengal, including the southern part of China and the islands of the Eastern Archipelago. Its distribution gives rise to an extensive internal trade, and like the herrings and salt fish with the negro population of the West Indies, it forms to the natives a palatable addition to their ordinary food."

So it seems that Balachong (and similar spellings) is a relatively common trade or generic name for fermented shrimp or fish paste and also for Anglo-Indian dishes using this paste. Another early Anglo-Indian recipe for this dish is:

"AN INDIAN DISH, CALLED BALLACHONG (1845).—Take a pint of picked shrimps, a pint of sour apples finely chopped, mix and shake them in a stew-pan to dry a little over the fire. Take one pound of butter, two cloves of garlic, and one onion chopped very fine ; pepper and salt to taste, a spoonful of curry powder and Cayenne mixed. Fry the onion and garlic in the butter, and the other ingredients fry together. Put them whole into a jar and cover close. When wanted for use, fry a piece in small quantities dipped in butter."

Another 19th century source gives a definition of the traded ballachong:

"BALACHONG, a kind of cake formed of dried fish, pounded up with salt and  spices, and then allowed to ferment freely. The best sort, or the red balachong, is made of shrimps. The black, or common sort, is made of other small fish. It is esteemed a great delicacy by the Malays and Chinese, with whom it forms an article of extensive commerce."

So the story of this dish is that fermented shrimp paste was a common trade item in the region and was used as a base for various other dishes, some of which were then named after the Malay origin trade name for this shrimp paste. In fact several forms of Ballachong are still made in Calcutta and is generally recognized as an Anglo-Indian dish. In addition, while a fermented shrimp paste was obtained as a trade item, local non-fermented versions are also made, the Anglo-Indian dishes could be either. Simple and neat.

Well actually the story is not quite that simple.

At the present time fermented shrimp paste is used extensively thought South-East Asia and is known by numerous different names depending on location and production method. In 19th century British sources by far the majority of references to Balachong or gnapee reference the product to Burma. In part this is likely to be due to the huge internal trade of this product in Burma, but also due to the fact that the British authorities were keen to control trade in Burma and attempted to tax this product. A typical 19th century reference in to ngapee:

"The greatest Burmese delicacy is ngapee — putrid shrimps, salted, beaten, and dried. No meal that a Burman makes would be complete without this ingredient. Large quantities are sent up the rivers, and the King of Ava admits it as a delicacy within the gilded portals of his palace."

To appreciate how extensive the internal Burmese trade in Gnapee was, it is worth knowing that in 1854-55 it is estimated that 13,500 tons of this product traded. Records of this product date back to the 12th century. Gnapee/nga-pi can be made of either fish or shrimp, the name means actually means "pressed [or ground] fish". So the Anglo-Indian dish is a result of East Indian trade with Burma and the British presence in Burma.

Actually, to complicate things even further, another dish of huge popularity in Burma is called "Balachaung", which is so popular that it seems almost to be a national dish. This link gives a typical modern recipe. As you can see it is a relish that is made from both dried shrimp and shrimp paste. Interestingly it seems to be a dish in transition between the Anglo-Indian Ballachong/Ballachow and fermented shrimp/fish paste condiments. Given the proximity of Calcutta to Burma, potentially the Calcutta Anglo-Indian dish is derived from this Burmese relish or less likely the Burmese dish derives from the Anglo-Indian dish.

Another complication in the origin of the Anglo-Indian dish is the presence of another great European trading power in India and SE-Asia - the Portuguese. Portugal's western Indian colony of Goa has many dishes which are specifically regional and reflect both Indian and Portuguese influences. One of these dishes is known as "Balchao". While this is essentially a sour shrimp relish (often used to flavor other dishes), there is so much variation in the recipes that it might be more useful to think of it as a "recipe family", rather then a specific dish. Many recipes suggest using fresh shrimp, equally it can be made with dried shrimp. It can be consumed when made or bottled for future use. Another former Portuguese colony, Macao, also has a similar recipe known as "balichao", although descriptions of this condiment sound more similar to a fermented fish sauce. There are also scatter references to similar dishes though out SE-Asia and even in Sri Lanka.

Obviously the Goan "Balchao" and the Burmese "Balachaung" are related both in name and in preparation to the Anglo-Indian Balichow/Balachong. But what exactly is this relationship? Is it linear with one origin in Burma or the former Portuguese colonies? Is there a more complicated relationship with multiple points of origin? While the former is more "neat" and makes a better story, I prefer the latter scenario as it is more likely to be the truth. If we consider the recipe for recipe for "Balichow" in "The Peoples Indian Cookery Book" (Calcutta, 1900), the name is essentially that of the Portuguese colonies, however the recipe actually suggest the use of fermented shrimp paste from Malaysia.  Given that a whole bunch of similar "Bal-"sounding names were used in trade for fermented shrimp/fish paste as far back as the 17th century, deriving an origin based on the name of the dish alone is problematic. Even though it is likely that the origin of these names is rooted in a Malay dialect, it is also untrue to say that these dishes are Malay in origin. Equally, if we look at the way in which the dishes themselves, there is so much variation in technique, the manner in which they are consumed and how the are stored that this is also problematic.

Maybe the best option would be to change the scale of the analysis. Rather then looking at a huge geographic area over an extended period of time, perhaps it is better to look at the original set of Anglo-Indian recipes and simply say that these are derived from the Anglo-Indian community in Calcutta. Ultimately, I think that the real value of this exercise is not to produce a "just so story" with a simple, if unlikely point of origin, but to demonstrate the existence of a large family of inter-related dishes covering a large area of the world in multiple cultures over a significant amount of time. Maybe

Frumenty

Apologies for the lack of recent posts. A new job means that I have a little less time for food history. One quick post then in the way of illustrating how recreating even simple historic recipes isn't plain sailing.

One recipe group that I have been interested in for a while are the frumenty (various spellings based on the Latin frumentum meaing grain). They are of interest to me as the dish has been made in England since at least the Medival period, until the mid-20th century. The dish itself has remained did not change all that much during this time span, but the social context did. Basically, the recipe is wheat pounded and seperated from its hulls, then boiled in cow or almond milk until it forms a gel, this mixture was then sweetened, spiced or coloured as appropriate to the the period. During the Medieval period it most often served without sugar with boiled venison as a type of pottage or in non-meat days with porpoise or beaver tail. Despite being mammals the entire of the former and the tail of the latter were counted as "fish". Having eaten beaver tail I can tell you that it tastes completely unlike fish, which why it was popular on fish dominant days I imagine.

By the modern period frumenty had become associated with Christmas eve, as the following 19th century description indicates:

Christmas-eve is celebrated in almost every family by
a supper of frumenty, made of steeped wheat boiled
with milk, apple-pie, cheese, and yule-cake. It is
accounted very unlucky to cut into the cheese before
supper. At the commencement of supper a large fire
is made, on which is placed the yule-log, and atall mould-
candle, called the yule-candle, which is not to be snuffed,
is lighted and placed on the table; a piece of the log
is preserved until the following Christmas by each
prudent housewife, to secure the house from fire during
the year.

The popularity if frumenty in 19th rural England is rather interesting as for the most part wheat was a recent addition to the diet, especially in the North.  It is possible that this was viewed as a high status dish and was eaten only on festivals where rarities like wheat were more freely available. So popular was frumenty at this period that it was possible to buy the wheat pre-boiled and set into a jelly from vendors. This jelly was called "Creed Wheat" ( to cree grain is to soften it by soaking or boiling) and it is the creed wheat I had a problem with . Buying whole wheat is not a great problem and instructions for preparing the grain where essentially the same since the Medieval period: Beat grain to loosen the hull, then gently boil. Remove the hulls and you will get a wheat gel that will set solid like well made oat porridge. Try as a might I could not get this process to work with the wheat I used. Back to the drawing board. I managed to find another source of wheat, this time with partial removal of the hull ("pearled wheat"). Problem solved, gel formed in roughly 40 minutes of gently boiling. Clearly the important part of all the recipes I looked at was the removal of the hull, however I failed to note this initially. This illustrates part of the difficulty with historical recipes; if I can get this simple process wrong, what hope would I have with a more complicated dish? And in addition, in this instance I had a very good idea what the dish should be like at several stages, often this is not the case with historical recipes.

Above: Wheat in earthenware pot being gently simmered for 8 hours. When this failed to produce a wheat gel, I removed the wheat to a modern saucepan and boiled it hard for about 2 hours - still no gel.

Above: Top right, whole wheat before boiling, and Top left, after ten hours of treatment. Bottom left, wheat with partial removal of hull, and bottom right, after 20 minutes of gently boiling.

Above: Christmas eve frumenty. The creed wheat was mixed with milk, egg yolk, spice and sugar and gently heated to give an indulgent but comforting porridge type dish. I can see why it was popular.

If you are interested in making this dish you could look for pearl wheat (very hard to find) or substitute pearl barley. Least you think this inauthentic, here is a recipe from the end of the 17th century.

Botargo

On a hot summer evening in 1661 London diarist Samuel Pepys giving up all hope of a comfortable nights sleep, decided that there was really only one thing to be done – he went into his garden and drank huge amounts of wine and ate bread and butter with botargo until “very near fuddled”. Having sat though at least one similarly hot Melbourne night in a bath tub full of cold water with a book and a glass of wine to pass the time, I know exactly where he was coming from. I have never heard of, let alone eaten, the mysterious “botargo” he mentions, but maybe it was worth tracking down for next time there is a power outage during the summer? I little bit of research turned up the surprising fact that botargo was “the salted and dried roe of grey mullet and occasionally tuna”, not something I was likely to come across then.

Eventually, I did come across a small exquisitely labeled and accordingly priced jar of a fine orange-brown dust which claimed to be “Botargo” in an exotic location (a Scottish-Italian Deli in truth). How could one resist charms of an exquisitely labeled jar of exotic powder? Certainly on this occasion not me and later that night I had my first taste of botargo. Five minutes later, and several mouthfuls exotic dust sprinkled pasta later, I still really couldn’t understand why anybody would want to eat what was effectively very expensive salty, fishy nastiness. Just to make sure I wasn’t mistaken the first time, I did try to eat it on several other occasions, and at least once I served it to some long suffering friends (who thereafter referred to the event as “The evening of evil fishy nastiness”). Botargo it seemed was just another one of those food ingredients that looked and sounded exotic enough that I felt that I had to try it, but were just plain nasty. Obviously, Pepys and everybody else in the last four hundred years that said they liked it were obviously mad, lying or both.

Strangely enough though, I recently had a botargo epiphany and have come to the conclusion that not all salted and dried fish roes are created equal. Which was rather a surprise, after all botargo is just salted and dried grey mullet roe, a very simple product, so how could one version be delicious and another just plain nasty? Could it simply be another example of the universal law that everything tastes better on holiday? This was very possible; after all I ate these utterly delicious sparkling shards of botargo in a Spanish bar, drinking salty manzanilla sherry and watching the setting sun turn the Guadalquivir river into a sheet of molten gold.

From previous bitter experience I had learnt that I am a sucker for the whole “setting sun, rivers of molten gold” thing and that under these specific circumstances I am inclined to buy large amounts of retsina wine or obscure herbal-anise liquor combinations, only to regret doing to so when opening these holiday “treasures” back home in non-holiday reality. So obviously there was only one thing to do, I filled up my suitcase with vacuum sealed packets of botargo and took them back to Edinburgh where I was living at the time. During this trip to Scotland’s capital I experienced some of the most low, grey and moisture laden sky known to man, a perfect environment to test the deliciousness (or not) of holiday botargo.

Well obviously the wafer thin slices of botargo sprinkled with a few drops of olive oil and lemon juice and eaten in a dark Edinburgh flat turned out to be one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten and I finally worked out why the botargo I had eaten before was so nasty in comparison. The problem was that botargo although a relatively simply product to make is also quite an expensive product. I had originally bought low grade version of pre-shaved flakes in a jar, in effect I could have simply bought a jar of flaked fish food and saved some cash, that taste and texture would have been same. Good quality mullet botargo looks like two slim orange-brown to dark-brown sausages and has a translucent glow that makes it look more like a children’s sweet then an adult savory. It is an ancient product, with production occurring around the Mediterranean wherever mullet occur and under various names it is also produced in Brazil, Venezuela, Turkey and Senegal. An identical product is also made in Japan where is known as “Karasumi”. Given the wide distribution of production, surprisingly it is traditionally eaten in a restricted number of ways. In fact, in the vast majority of cases it is simply sliced finely and eaten without any other further preparation and it is consumed with one goal in mind as is described in this 19th century dictionary:

BOTARGO: A kind of salt cake, or rather sausage, made of the hard row of the sea mullet, eaten with oil and vinegar, but chiefly used to promote drinking.

It was the “to promote drinking” part that was relevant Samuel Pepys’ interest in botargo and this is how it is still widely consumed today. Botargo was popular enough in England that it was specifically mentioned as one of the few foreign caught "fish" that could be imported by foreigners in Acts designed to protect English fisheries. This is also outlined in:

An act for making Billinsgate a free market for sale of fish" 1699.

8. And for the better encouragement of
the fishery of this kingdom, be it further
enacted by the authority aforesaid, That
no fish (except stock fish and live eels)
taken or caught by any foreigners, aliens
to this kingdom (except Protestant stran-
gers. inhabiting within this kingdom) shall
be imported in any foreign ship, vessel,
or bottom, not being wholly English property,
and uttered, sold or exported to sale
in this kingdom, under the pain of the forfeiture
of such ship, vessel, or bottom, with
the tackle thereunto belonging, and of all
such fish so imported and sold, contrary to the true intent and meaning hereof….

9. Provided nevertheless, That this shall
not be construed to prohibit the importation
of anchovies, sturgeon, botargo or cavear,
nor felling of mackarel before or after divine
service on Sundays.

Botargo is often mentioned along with caviar, in effect they were not dismiliar products in a period before technology developed to preserve caviar in plump salty little balls of individual fish eggs. At this stage caviar would have been a less refined product, with a great deal more broken down eggs, resembling a sort of salty caviar jam. Part of the bill of fare for the Corination of King James II consisted of:

Sweet-meats; toil'd Sallet, hot; ; Pigs Collar'd, cold; Sweet-mcats; Beef a la Royal, hot; Crayfish, cold ; Bolonia Sauiagcs; Salad; Botargo ; Periwincles; 11 Chickens, 4 larded, hot; ; Dozen Glasses of Blumange; Collar'd Eels, cold; Rabbits frigas'd, hot; Sweet-meats; Sallet; Sweet-meats; Tansie ; Pullet Pyes, cold; Sweet-meats; 6 Pheasants, 1 larded, hot; Mangoes, cold; Hung Beef, Sallet; Cockles; Salamagundy ; a Chine of Beef; hot; Goofeberry and Apricot Tarts; souc'd Mullets, cold; Pudding, hot; Sweet-meats; Sallet; Sweetmeats...>

And even in the British West Indian colonies we find botago on the bill of fare at a Plantation banquet during the 17th century:

First then (because beefe being the greatest rarity in the island) I will begin with it, and of that sort there are three dishes at either messe, a rompe boyl'd, a chine roasted, a large piece of the breast roasted, the cheeks bak'd, of which is a dish to either messe, the tongue and part of the tripes minc't for pyes, season'd with sweet herbs finely minc't, suet, spice, and currans; the legges, pallets, and other ingredients for an olio podrido to either messe, a dish of marrow-bones; so here are fourteen dishes at the table and all of beefe : and this he intends as the great regalio to which he invites his fellow-planters ; who having well eaten of it, the dishes are taken away, and another course brought in, which is a potato pudding, a dish of Scots collops of a leg of porke, as good as any in the world, a fricacy of the same, a dish of boyl'd chickens, a shoulder of a young goat drest with his blood and tyme, a kid with a pudding in his belly, a sucking-pig, which is there the fattest, whitest, and sweetest in the world, with the pognant sauce of the brains, salt, sage, and nutmeg, done with claret wine; a shoulder of mutton, which is there a rare dish ; a pasty of the side of a young goat, and a side of a fat young shot upon it, well seasoned with pepper and salt, and with some nutmeg; a loyne of veal, to which there wants no'sauce, being so well furnisht with oranges, lymons, and lymes; three young turkies in a dish; two capons, of which sort I have seen some extreame large and very fat; two henns with eggs in a dish ; four ducklings ; eight turtle-doves, and three rabbits; and for cold bak't meats, two Muscovie ducks larded, and season'd well with pepper and salt: and these being taken off the table, 'another course is set on, and that is of Westphalia or Spanish bacon, dried neats" tongues, botargo, pickled oysters, caviare, anchovies, olives, and (intermixt with these) custards, creams, some alone, some with preserves of plantains, bananas, guavers put in, and those preserved alone by themselves ; cheesecakes, puffs, which are to be made with English flower and bread; sometimes tansies.

It is perhaps from this account by Richard Lingon that Samuel Johnson made the observation in his dictionary that "Portago" is described as a "West Indian Pickle".

Not everybody was keen on Botargo, the 17th century diarist John Evelyn described Bologna as:

This citty is famous also for sausages ; and here
is sold greate quantities of Parmegiano cheese, with
Botargo, Caviare, &c. which makes some of their
shops perfume ye streetes with no agreeable smell.

But in general, where there was 17th century boozing, there was Botargo and this remains true even today. Its salty-sweetness flavor is perfect for the taste profile of sake and fino sherry. It is also a friend to crisp, lager style beers. Happily its subtle fishy-sweetness means that it does work very well in a range of other dishes, small amounts enhancing the flavor of more bland base ingredients. Unfortunately, it remains an expensive product and I have rarely, if ever, seen it offered for sale in Australia. This means that the easiest and cheapest solution is to make the botargo yourself. Unlike many luxury products this is actually very easy to do at home with minimum fuss and bother. A fresh mullet roe will cost less then two dollars and will produce enough botargo to dress enough pasta for ten people. Fresh roes are available from many fishmongers, especially those to cater to a Greek client base. The only other cost is enough sea-salt to cover (approximately 500 gm per roe), what other luxury food item can be produced for so little cost and effort? Botargo itself is quite versatile, depending on how much is used it can be a dominant or background element in a dish. When briefly cooked (as in the pasta recipe given below) the fish aroma which some people find objectionable is neutralized and the botargo gives a savory earthiness to a dish, in much the same manner which occurs when cooking with Thai fish sauce or dried shrimp paste.

Home-made Botargo

INGREDIENTS

1 whole fresh mullet roe, with no tears or splits in the membrane

500 gm of sea salt (fine grade)

METHOD

-          place half of the salt in a shallow plastic container. Rinse and pat dry the roe, place on salt and cover with the remainder of the salt.

-          place in refrigerator and leave for at least 6 hours to over-night.

-          carefully remove the roe from the salt and rinse of salt, pat completely dry. Wrap loosely in kitchen paper and place out-side in full sun or place on a drying rack back in the refrigerator.

-          at night bring the roe inside and place on a plate under a weighted board (a can of soup is about right) in the refrigerator. Change the kitchen paper if it becomes moist.

-          repeat this process for six-eight days until the roe has hardened and has developed a golden-orange colour.

-          the botargo can be stored in a sealed plastic container or bag in the refrigerator for up to a month or for up to a year at least in the freezer.

Thin slices of botargo can simply be served on its own with a few drops of extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice, or as Pepys did on a hot summer evening, simply with bread and butter.

Botargo with pasta

INGREDIENTS

500 gm spaghetti or bavette

50 gm botargo, finely grated

1 garlic clove, crushed

100 ml extra virgin olive oil (a lighter flavored style, such as Ligurian is best)

METHOD

-          cook pasta in plenty of lightly salted water until al dente.

-          While the pasta is cooking, gently heat the olive oil in a deep pot with the crushed garlic. When the garlic starts to gently bubble and give its flavor to the oil, add the botargo and cook for no more the thirty seconds or so to avoid burning the botargo.

-          At this point drain the pasta and add to the oil. Mix well and serve.

Botargo with bean crostini

INGREDIENTS

500 gm cannellini beans

2 whole cloves of garlic

One sprig of sage or rosemary

Salt and pepper

One loaf of good quality crusty bread

100 ml extra virgin olive oil for the beans, extra to brush crostini.

METHOD

For the beans:

-          soak beans over-night and drain. Place beans in a heavy casserole and cover with water bring to boil. Drain beans and discard water. This step removes some of the bean carbohydrates that contribute to gas production and removes much of the scum that is produced when beans are initially boiled.

-          place beans back in casserole and cover with water to depth of 3-4 cms. Add garlic and herbs and olive oil. Heat to boiling point, then turn down the heat to the lowest setting. Cook beans until tender and they have absorbed oil and liquid. Beans are cooked when soft, but not broken or pulpy. A good indication of this is when a hot bean is exposed to the air it splits open. Remove herbs and garlic clove and add salt and pepper to taste. At this point the beans can be made hours ahead of time and re-heated just before serving.

For the Crostini:

-          cut 2 cm thick slices of bread, brush with olive oil and either brown under a grill or on a very hot griddle pan (which will give you attractive scorch marks on the bread).

-          for each person place a slice of bread on a serving plate, top with warmed beans and lightly grate on botargo to taste. A very small amount of botargo is required to give depth of flavor to the beans.

Medlar fruit and Jelly

Above: Bletted medlar fruit

When it comes to Shakespeare and love the play that springs to mid for most people is "Romeo and Juliet", and the many people would recognise and understand the following lines:

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet

However, Shakespeare also makes use of other botanical comparisons in the play which are not so clear:

Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.

O Romeo, that she were, O that she were

An open-arse and thou a poperin pear!

What on earth is Mercutio talking about? Obviously there is more then a wiff of sexual euphemism about these lines, the long tapering poperin pear is bardly slang for penis but "medlar""isn't such a well know fruit now so the reference isn't as clear for modern readers. A "medlar" is both the name of the tree and the fruit it bears, botanically known as Mespilus germanica. They are part of the Maloideae (apple) subfamily of the rose family Rosaceae and are therefore related to apples, pears and quinces. In appearance the fruit is rather small, dull and brown, although the tree it self is very attractive with dark glossy leaves with silvered undersides and large shining white five petaled flowers in the spring.

Above: Quince fruit and the much smaller Medlar for comparison.

Due to the appearance of the fruit with it's retained sepals and hollow crowned appearance it has been used as euphemistically by the English historically to refer to the anus ("open-arse") or less commonly female genitalia ("open tail") , in much the same way the Italians still refer to the fruit of the fig tree. Unlike the fruit of the fig tree, any resemblance to female genitalia would take a combination poor eye site and considerable wishful thinking. The French are perhaps closer in their phrase "cul de chien" and Shakespeare does seem to be taking some anatomical licence with the meaning he has given. The following 18th century definition of the medlar fruit gives the more usual description of the fruit.

"A fruit, vulgarly called an open arse; of which it is more truly than delicately said, that it is never ripe till it is as rotten as a turd, and then it is not worth a fart."

This description also gives an indication of the other unusual property of the medlar, the fact that it is inedible until it has begun to rot. This process called "bletting" can occur while the fruit is attached to the tree after frost, or can be achieved by picking the ripe fruit and storing them in a cool dry place. Either way the hard cream flesh breaks down into a soft brown pulp. It is this pulp that is consumed in on form or another. Common ways to eat this fruit pulp is simply sweetened (or not) with port, made into jellys, "cheese "and creams.

Above: partially bletted medlar fruit cut in half to show the normal white and broken down brown pulp.

Although the medlar is no longer a common or even well recognised fruit, my parents have a medlar tree in their orchard and this year I was lucky enough to get enough fruit to make into a jelly. The jelly is made in exactly the same manner as quince jelly, briefly the fruit is roughly chopped and covered with water, it is then simmered for three hours, then liquid is them filtered through a cheesecloth overnight, equal amount of sugar is added and the jelly is simmered until it gels. The resulting jelly is a lovely garnet colour, but the real pleasure of the jelly is it's flavour and aroma. Simply stated no other fruit comes close to approaching the depth and complexity of flavour. Event he quince which is considered by many to produce the most exotic, ethreal and delicious of conserves, pales in comparison. The initial flavour on the palate is very similar to quince jelly, powerfully aromatic, even spice like, but never over-powering or cloying, but in addition to this the medlar jelly has a woody, earthy, leaf litter aroma which sounds revolting, but is in fact delicious. Most people will not have access to medlar fruit, but it is possible to by medlar jelly from Wilkin & sons, Tiptree in England. While the jelly could be used to accompany lamb or game (in a similar manner that rowan berry, cranberry and red currant jellies are used), it crys out to be slathered on a slice of tangy sour-dough toast or eaten with fermented yeast pancakes, especially the clotted cream ("Ashtah") stuffed Lebanese Atayef pancakes.

Above: My medlar jelly.