This is another entry for the Historical Food Fortnightly project, which is now being continued on Facebook.
The Challenge: April 22-May 5: Flower Power. A
dish that is floral, flowery, or flour-y, as you desire.
_El Cocinero Español_ was published in San Jose in 1898, written by a
lady from an influential Spanish ranch-owning family, who recorded the traditional
Californio recipes that she learned at home, and at the Catholic convent school
that she attended in the 1850s and 1860s (staffed by South American nuns). At the time the book was written, the author,
Doña Encarnación, was unmarried and lived with her sister, her Yankee
brother-in-law, and their children, one of whom was already grown up and
married to a Yankee. The author and her
sister were raised during a very difficult time in California history when the
established community of Californios was being abused on all sides by American
and English (and other foreign) immigrants and settlers, due to the
misunderstanding, encouraged by the newspapers, that all land and property titles
that existed before 1850 (California entered the United States), were legally null
and void, and that all existing residents were reduced to the status of
conquered enemies. In reality, California
was purchased (as part of the treaty that ended the war, because the residents
had already started fighting for independence from Mexico), not conquered (it
was the central government of Mexico that was conquered); all property titles were upheld (but actually
ended up being required to be confirmed in court), and all existing residents
were automatically made citizens of the United States, but that is not how most
people understood the situation!
Artichokes, Italian Style. From _El Cocinero Espanol_, 1898. Photo: Elizabeth Urbach. |
A month late in posting, but better late than never! It took me a while to decide what to do for this challenge; I have
orange-blossom honey, rose petal honey, dried rose petals, and both
orange-flower and rose water in my pantry.
What to do? I finally decided on
artichokes – which are a flower! -- when I saw them in the grocery store, but
then it took me another while to choose the historic recipe to use to cook them. My first couple of artichokes had to be cooked
and eaten in a not-particularly-historical-way when they were on the point of
going bad, and I hadn’t yet chosen a recipe! A week or so ago I bought some more artichokes
and again, took more than a week to choose, not because there weren’t many
recipes, but because there were so many choices!
I selected a recipe from Encarnación Pinedo’s _El Cocinero Español_,
which I have been slowly translating from the original 19th century Californian
Spanish, because I’ve been wanting to try some of the recipes. This recipe book is the earliest published
cookbook from the colonial Spanish/Mexican California culture; I’m sure there
are other recipe collections in existence, but as far as I know, they are still
in manuscript form, hidden in attics and storage areas, and the California
history scholars and museums that I contacted didn’t know about them.
Page from _El Cocinero Espanol_, by Encarnacion Pinedo, 1898. |
In her introduction to the cookbook, which was initially written as a
private family record of their history and food culture, Doña Encarnación
records the animosity and distrust that her mother (her nieces’ grandmother)
held for the foreigners, especially the Yankees, and attempted to pass on to
herself and her sisters (including her nieces’ mother), and details some of the
abuses that their family, in particular, suffered at the hands of the Yankees. The
book was written in order to secure, to her nieces, their Californio family
identity and history, in the form of the stories and recipes, which Doña
Encarnación saw was not being taught alongside their American identity, and feared
would be lost forever, as the girls would all, likely, marry American or other
non-Californio men. It is likely that
the book was published because it fulfilled the same purpose for other mixed
Californio/non-Hispanic families.