Playing catch-up with the Historical Food Fortnightly: Challenge #17 -- Tea caudle.

Chinese teapot.
Photo: Elizabeth Urbach

 The Challenge: #17 -- Revolutionary Food. The theme is revolution, and it’s all about ch-ch-ch-changes. Food can be inspired by revolution, can showcase a revolutionary technique, or come from a revolutionary time. Give us your best documented interpretation of revolution.

Of course, being a tea drinker and tea blogger, I am interested in the history of tea, and I'm very aware of the part tea played in English and American history.  Although tea was advertised as early as 1658, it was officially introduced to England in 1662, as part of the dowry of the new Queen of England, Catherine of Braganza, who married King Charles II.  A Portuguese princess, Catherine also brought to England trading rights at all of Portugal's trading posts around the world, including the ones where tea could be purchased.  Tea became extremely popular at court almost immediately, and spread to the aristocracy within the first few years.  Within twenty years, the upper middle classes were also familiar with it, and drinking it enough to provoke articles and dire warnings against it in newspapers and the increasingly popular domestic manuals and recipe books, aimed at the aristocracy and the upper-middle classes, as well as their servants.  By 1750 tea was being called "unwholesome" or even "of a poisonous nature", and said to cause "distempers, tremors, palseys, vapours, fits" and other nerve damage, when "drank to excess;" people were encouraged to put "cream, &c." in their tea to counteract the "corroding" nature of the lime and alum used to make loaf sugar (when people sweetened their tea), or to use lavender oil, nettle flowers, or quicksilver-water, in making their tea, to "prevent the rise of vapours"!  But how was the tea made?  

There is some suggestion in the earliest books, that people were drinking tea, or perhaps ordering it ready-made, along with the other fashionably new drinks, coffee and chocolate, in tea and coffee houses, more often than making it at home, since the recipe books from those first 20 years don't contain any recipes for making tea.  The diarist Samuel Pepys wrote in 1660 that he sent for a cup of "tee, a China drink" one day when at home, but it's not clear where he got the tea, whether it was made in his own kitchen, or brought from a tea house.  These tea and coffee houses became wildly popular, rivaling taverns in their customer numbers, but more fashionable than taverns because they sold the exotic, expensive, imports, so they were patronized by the aristocracy and upper middle classes, as well as anyone else who could afford the price of a cup of tea or coffee, including women, in many cases. 

Picnic recipes from Godey's of July 1855.

Lemon balm at History Park,
San Jose, Ca.
Photo: Elizabeth Urbach.

Wow, the weather is really starting to heat up around here!  June is usually not a really warm month in this area, but I think we'll be breaking some heat records in the next few days or so ... This is when we should air out the house and get outside in the cool mornings and evenings, and then shut ourselves away from the heat in the afternoon with something cold and refreshing to drink.  To get a break from sodas, make some iced tea or tisane (you can make it by the pitcher and just keep it in the fridge all the time) or some lemonade, which are not only good for hot weather, but for the sick and invalids, as recommended by Godey's Lady's Book in 1855:

Another Fool Recipe.

image from AntiqueClipArt.com
In preparation for Easter, I'm looking through my recipes (again) to find something interesting to make. While paging through my copy of Warne's Model Cookery from ca. 1890, I found a vintage recipe for Gooseberry Fool, which, as I understand, was the favorite kind during the Victorian era. The acidity of the gooseberries was supposed to aid in the clotting of the milk, I believe. So, if you happen to have some fresh gooseberries, this may be a good recipe to re-create! "New milk" refers to fresh, whole milk, rather than sour milk, buttermilk, skimmed milk or cream. Your regular whole milk from the grocery should work well for this, although I would try to use non-homogonized whole milk if you can find it.

Gooseberry Fool.

Two quarts of gooseberries; one quart of water; sugar to taste; two quarts of new milk; yolks of four eggs; a little grated nutmeg.

Put two quarts of gooseberries into a stewpan with a quart of water; when they begin to turn yellow and swell, drain the water from them and press them with the back of a spoon through a colander, sweeten them to your taste, and set them to cool. Put two quarts of milk over the fire beaten up with the yolks of four eggs, and a little grated nutmeg; stir it over the fire until it begins to simmer, then take it off, and stir it gradually into the cold gooseberries, let it stand until cold, and serve it. The eggs may be left out and milk only may be used. Half this quantity makes a good dishful.

Then, there is a similar dish called syllabub, which can be like a custard, or like a beverage -- sort of like an ice cream soda where the ice cream is melted and floating on top of the soda pop. Here is a recipe for a thing called "London Syllabub" which sounds like some older recipes for "fool" that I've seen. The only thing preventing me from trying this recipe is the necessity for having a cow ...

London Syllabub.

A pint and a half of sherry; two ounces of sugar; grated nutmeg; two quarts of milk.

Sweeten a pint and a half of sherry with the loaf sugar in a bowl, and add nutmeg. Milk into it from the cow about two quarts of milk.