Historic Cooking: Thanksgiving Pudding from 1925.

Image from http.clipart.edigg.com

Hello again; here we are near the end of a year that has been absolutely abnormal!  Things have changed even more for me; I was laid off from my job at the school in mid-August, due to increased costs related to the Covid-19 pandemic, and have been unemployed since then.  As I have found whenever I need to look for a job, I am overqualified for all of the minimum-wage or entry-level jobs that people are hiring for (and there are fewer of those jobs available because of all the businesses that have closed), and under-qualified for everything else!  I may need to use this time to go to grad school and get either a Master's or a teaching credential, or both, but I have no idea how I will pay for it while unemployed! I have no illusions of anything improving under the new presidency, since my situation remained the same under all the previous ones. 

One good thing that has come out of this excess of spare time, is that I have immersed myself in historical research, as well as attending as many history-related webinars and online lectures as I can, and it has resulted in some new things (none of which will earn me any kind of income, but oh well).  I have continued with the YouTube channel that I started in July and August, and it has been really interesting, although I still hate editing the videos!  I have made some interesting connections with other historians in the U.S., and it has inspired me to keep going with my own research and costume and cooking projects.  I have a whole list of historic recipes that I would like to make into videos for the YouTube channel, and I am currently translating my beginning hand-sewing class -- which I taught to elementary school students a few years ago -- into a series of videos, too.  But the weather has grown cool, and all I want to do right now is bake, and drink tea!

Historic Cooking: Fig Bread Pudding from 1907 and the history of Figgy Pudding.

from AntiqueClipArt.com.

Happy New Year!  "Time flies ..." and all that.  I have settled in to my new place -- a vintage Airstream trailer from 1967 -- but haven't got the oven up and working yet (it runs on propane and involves open flame every time you use it ...) so the only historic cooking I've done so far has been on the stovetop (also propane, involving open flame) and I haven't gotten many photos of the projects.  I am working on a Twelfth Night Cake for the coming week (I'll bake it in my mom's regular electric oven), so hopefully I'll get that written up and posted within the month.  One Historical Food Fortnightly challenge which I made this year, I also did last year but didn't get around to posting about it -- Figgy Pudding.  I decided to use a different recipe for figgy pudding, one that didn't take as long to boil as the one I usually use, so the research for that sent me down the rabbit hole of figgy pudding history.  I ultimately decided that I like the flavor of the Victorian recipe better than this one, but it was still an interesting recipe.

Just after Thanksgiving I made another figgy pudding for my Christmas caroling choir – the Lyric Theatre Victorian Carolers – as I have for the past several years, but this year I wanted to try a different recipe.   In researching other recipes, I followed one of the many "bunny trails" that I remembered from my previous research on the topic of figgy pudding: what is it and how old is it? 

Fig Bread Pudding.
Photo: Elizabeth Urbach.

Figgy pudding seems like such an old-fashioned treat, the kind that dates back to at least the 18th century, but my own investigation into period cookbooks has turned up surprisingly few recipes for it -- under the name "figgy pudding" -- that date before the Victorian era. In The Monthly Magazine: Devonshire and Cornwall Vocabulary from 1810, it defines "figs" as: "Figs, raisins. A "figgy pudding"; a pudding with raisins in it; a plumb pudding." Also, there is a somewhat sniffy (in my opinion) entry in The Oracle—A Weekly Journal of Response, Research, and Reference from December 1882, which states, in answer to the question "In Somersetshire the poor people call raisins figs and a plain pudding they speak of as a figgy pudding. Why is this?" that "It would be hopeless to seek a rational explanation of the error. We can only surmise that in the days when communication was less facile than at present, the rural population having little acquaintance with colonial produce, used figs as a convenient generic term for the dried fruits sold by grocers. ... We do not think the error is peculiar to the poor: it is rather characteristic of the rural population." Well, la di da!

The authors of most "history of figgy pudding" articles on the Internet seem to agree that figgy pudding, plum pudding, and Christmas pudding are all names for the exact same thing, that none of those dishes actually contain figs or plums, and that this somehow made sense to the people of the past because they were weird like that way back then.  However, that kind of explanation for "why people in the past did things a certain way" always makes me suspicious, because it so often turns out to be totally untrue!

Historic Cooking: Fourth of July Pudding from 1916.

Fourth of July Pudding.  Photo: Liz Raven.

The Redone Challenge: Today in History (June 29-July 12, 2014) Make a dish based on or inspired by a momentous occasion that took place on the day you made it. Get creative - you would be surprised by all the interesting things that happened every single day!

The Recipe:

A Fourth of July Luncheon. To be served buffet style or on the porch.  By Cora Farmer Perkins.

FOURTH OF JULY PUDDING: Pick over, wash and hull one quart box of strawberries.  Sprinkle with one cupful of granulated sugar, cover, and let stand two hours.  Mash, squeeze through a double thickness of cheesecloth, and add one cupful of cold water, and lemon juice to taste.  Turn mixture into a brick mold.  Beat one pint of heavy cream until stiff and add one-half cupful of powdered sugar, one-half tablespoonful of vanilla, a few grains of salt, and two thirds of a cupful of rolled dried macaroons.  Pour cream mixture over fruit mixture to overflow mold.  Cover with buttered paper (buttered side up) and adjust cover, when mixture should be forced down sides of mold.  Pack in rock salt and finely crushed ice, using equal parts, and let stand three hours.

            Remove to chilled serving dish, garnish with selected strawberries, and cut in slices for serving.

--from _Woman’s Home Companion_, July 1916. 

The Date/Year and Region: the United States, 1916. 

A failed Florentine of Marrow -- Historical Food Fortnightly challenge #14

ingredients for a Florentine of Marrow.
Photo: Elizabeth Urbach

The Challenge: #14 -- Fear Factor.

What foods have you always wanted to attempt, but were afraid to attempt to make - or afraid to eat? Choose a dish that is either tricky to create or nerve-wracking to eat, and get adventurous! It’s historical Fear Factor!

I could have re-done Calf's Foot Jelly from earlier in the year, but I had trouble finding fresh calves' feet.  I could have done Beef Tongue, but a few other people chose the same thing, and while I will probably try it myself later, I preferred to work with a different ingredient, to give the challenge postings more variety.  I also thought about doing stuffed beef heart, or kidneys, but had trouble finding fresh ones, even at the local Filipino grocery store.  Then I saw beef marrow bones at my regular grocery store, and that sealed the deal.  I've heard of marrow bones being a popular dish even into modern times, but never having had them before, I didn't know what the commotion was about.  I was a bit turned off by the thought of eating blood, but the bones didn't look very bloody when I bought them, and I was intrigued.  Instead of making a modern recipe like Osso Bucco, I looked through my historic recipes and saw that marrow could be substituted for suet and butter in boiled puddings, as well as used as the filling for fritters, tarts, and other sweet dishes, mixed with spices, dried fruit and candied citrus peel. 

The history of eating bone marrow goes back to prehistoric times.  Archaeologists are always finding bones and bone fragments in the kitchen refuse heaps that are dug up, and it seems that until the Medieval era, the bones were simply roasted or boiled for broth, and then broken to extract the marrow, which was then eaten as a dish by itself.  Removing the marrow and using it as an ingredient in other recipes became very common by the 16^th century, with recipes for rissoles, pies, puddings, and tarts containing marrow in the filling, with sugar, spices, and dried fruit.  The 17^th and 18^th centuries seem to have been the heyday of marrow's popularity, with multiple recipes for marrow puddings, both boiled and baked, marrow tarts, pasties, fritters, and other sweet dishes.  By the 19^th century, marrow seemed to be most popular as a dish of beef-bones, roasted or broiled, replaced by suet and butter in puddings and other desserts, although many Victorian cookbooks still include a recipe for marrow pudding. 

Recipe books, along with other publications, record the rapid increase in knowledge and innovation characteristic of the Enlightenment, with new dishes, and new names for old dishes, abundant.  The Florentine is one such dish; a variation on a regular custard tart, Florentines are baked puddings, in a puff pastry crust, or simply in a buttered dish with an edging of puff pastry, with a filling of eggs and cream or milk, with any combination of sugar, marrow, butter, suet, fruit, sweetmeats, spices or other flavorings, and bread crumbs.  Generally sweet, Florentines could also be savory, with vegetables, herbs, marrow or suet, and gobbets of meat as the filling.  I chose to re-create a recipe from 1674 because I had all the ingredients already; the book, English and French Cook, is on Google Books.

We all like our figgy pudding!

Figgy pudding just out of the kettle.

Well, the pudding is out of the kettle and cooling on a rack now.  It looks like the waxed paper did its job of protecting the pudding from the rust on the inside of the mold, although it looked like the rust didn't come off on the paper anyways!  Interestingly, there is now more rust on the outside of the mold, in a line halfway down from the lid, where the water level was.  I'm not sure how to remove that.  There was also a metallic black residue that came off of the outside of the lid when I took the mold out of the kettle, but that has disappeared now that the mold isn't covered with steam.

Figgy pudding out of the mold. 

In any case, the pudding came out of the mold perfectly (of course it was surrounded with waxed paper) and hardly stuck to the waxed paper at all.  I let it boil for the full 4 hours called for by the recipe, and when I tested the pudding with a knife stuck in the center, there were no crumbs or batter stuck to the knife, and it felt firm yet moist.  It didn't rise at all, so I hope it's not too heavy!  It smells good, like figs and butter, but I can't smell the nutmeg at all.  I hope we'll be able to taste it.  I haven't decided whether or not to make a sauce to serve with it tomorrow night.  We'll see.

Even though, as the saying goes, "the proof of a pudding is in the eating," I'm calling this a success! 

Oh, bring us some figgy pudding!

vintage pudding mold.
Photo: Elizabeth Urbach

I finally got started on my baking last week, and hopefully I'll get it all done before I have to start giving baked goods away as Christmas presents!  Don't want to give out any I.O.U.s for cookies ...  Anyway, I got the two kinds of Italian cookies baked, as well as two apple pies (for Thanksgiving), and the first historic recipe of the season: figgy pudding!  I recently bought an antique pudding mold in one of the antique shops in Niles, and I've been wanting to use it ever since!  Unfortunately, there was a bit of rust on the inside, so I wasn't sure if I could boil a pudding in it and avoid getting rust residue on the pudding.  I had received a tip that apple cider vinegar would remove the rust and leave the metal food-safe, but when I scrubbed the rust with the vinegar it didn't seem to remove any of it.  Granted, I didn't let it soak more than a minute or so before scrubbing ... I ended up deciding to line the mold with waxed paper instead of just buttering it like the recipe said, to give a little more protection.  We'll see if that was enough when the pudding comes out of the steamer!

A Raspberry Bread Pudding and a Viennese Tea!

Raspberry Jam Bread Pudding.  Photo: Elizabeth Urbach

I've had these croissants taking up space in my freezer for a few months, and with all the fruit I've been bringing home from the farmers' market -- for making jam and freezing for next year -- I needed to get the croissants out.  Then they sat in my fridge for a month; they were wrapped in plastic, but still ...  Then, I got a bunch of raspberries at the farmers' market, intending to make jam with them, but a week went by and they were still there, looking at me sadly every time I opened the fridge!  After spending a lot of time looking through recipes for the perfect ones to use, I finally got the croissants and raspberries out the other day and did something with them!

Originally I was going to make bread pudding with the croissants -- I had been looking for a Victorian recipe (that I never did find) that called for grating the bread before adding the custard -- and jam with the raspberries, but as I was mixing the custard for the pudding, with the jam simmering in a saucepan nearby, I got a brain flash: why not put some of the jam *in* the bread pudding, and have a sort-of-raspberry-cream bread pudding?  I checked the fridge: no cream, but I did have some half-and-half.  Maybe white chocolate chips instead?  Checked the pantry: no white chocolate.  So, it will just be raspberry, or maybe Raspberry Jam-and-Bread Pudding ...

Some warm-weather recipes from Godey's, 1854.

California beach, ca. 1905.  Wikimedia Commons.

 Despite the weather forecasts of rain and showers in the next few days, it's only been sunny and humid around here, warming up the house quickly and not cooling down until late in the afternoon.  Those of us in older houses with no air conditioning try to get by with doing as much as possible in the morning and evening when it's a bit cooler, but sometimes you have picnics or barbecues to go to, where you're expected to bring some of the food.  Who wants to heat up the house even more by cooking something?  Luckily, there are tons of ideas in Victorian cookbooks and women's magazines for dealing with warm weather; even if you have to bring a dessert somewhere, you're not limited to fruit salad or ice cream if you use a recipe like one of those below:

              "STONE CREAM.—Put in the dish you mean to send to table three spoonfuls of the lemon-juice with a little of the peel grated, to apricot jam; boil together a pint of cream, half an ounce of isinglass, and some sugar; when nearly cold, pour it on the sweetmeat.  A few macaroons at the bottom of the dish is an improvement.  To be made a few hours before using. 

A Victorian recipe reborn -- summer pudding!

Summer pudding.
Photo: Wikimedia Commons

It's "too darn hot" around here! Yet, there are festivities where sweet things are expected.  Ice cream and popsicles are always a good thing (I keep a box of popsicles or fudgesicles in the freezer all summer), but what if you want something a little more elegant, but you don't want to heat up the house?  Summer pudding is a refreshing, no-bake, party-worthy dessert.  Opinions differ as to the origins of the recipe; it seems to be a late-Victorian Trifle combined with a Charlotte.  No matter; it's delicious, and easy, and involves 2 minutes of simmering on the stove, so your house stays cool!  I made a summer pudding for a party on the 4th of July, and it went over really well.  Here is the recipe I used, based on a recipe from a book by Elizabeth David, posted to the Leite's Culinaria blog:

12 oz. frozen sweetened raspberries (thawed)
1 box fresh raspberries
1/2 lb. fresh sweet cherries (pitted)
2 Tablespoons plum jam (could use raspberry or strawberry)
1/4 cup sugar
1 loaf sliced white bread, day-old or dried slightly in the oven, crusts trimmed
heavy cream

Aztec Chocolate Bread Pudding.

Aztec chocolate bread pudding.
O.k., I'm a confirmed fan of bread pudding. Sweet or savory, filled with currants and lemon zest, butterscotch chips, or cheddar and onions, bread pudding is a simple comfort food to make, if it's not too hot to bake. Plus, it's just so darn frugal, especially for someone like me, who can't eat up a whole loaf of bread before it dries out or goes stale. I don't know if someone else has come up with this recipe already, but I threw together a bread pudding today (baking it in the toaster oven avoided heating up the house!) with a small loaf/sandwich roll of French bread that was thoroughly dried out, plus some chocolate. It uses Dagoba Aztec Xocolatl hot cocoa mix, thus the name, but if you don't have that, you could use your favorite intense chocolate cocoa mix, and add a dash of cinnamon and a dash of chili powder instead.

Aztec Chocolate Bread Pudding

1 small loaf or large sandwich roll of French or Italian bread, stale or dried out (but not moldy)
1 pint milk, plus extra
3 whole eggs
1/2 cup Dagoba Aztec Xocolatl cocoa mix
1/2 to 1 cup Ghirardelli dark chocolate (60% cocoa) chips
butter

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Cut the bread into 1-inch cubes and measure out 3 cups of bread. Place in a medium bowl and pour 1 pint of milk over the bread. There should be more milk than the bread can soak up easily, so add more milk as needed; let the bread sit in the milk for 10 minutes or so to get soggy. When all the bread is saturated with the milk (there should be a little extra milk left in the bowl), smash the bread in the milk until each cube is broken up and the mixture makes a wet, chunky paste. Beat the eggs well in a separate bowl and stir into the bread and milk. Add the cocoa mix and chocolate chips and combine well. Butter an 8-inch square baking dish (or a 12-hole muffin tin) and pour the pudding mixture in, filling the container (or each muffin cup) to the top. [NOTE: If using the muffin tin, you may not have enough pudding mixture to fill every muffin cup. Don't worry.] Place on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 30 minutes (15 to 20 minutes for the muffin tin) or until puffed, the top springs back when gently pressed, a knife blade inserted in the center comes out wet but clean, and the edges start to pull away from the pan. Cool in the pan before serving, (or turning the mini puddings out onto plates). Serve warm or cold, with whipped cream or ice cream. Serves 6 to 8.

Victorian-inspired recipe: Coconut Rose-water Bread Pudding, version 1.

I dug out my flavorings the other day and decided to try interpreting the Coconut Pound Cake recipe from Godey's Lady's Book as a bread pudding. Here's the recipe:

Coconut Rose-water Bread Pudding

8 slices stale sandwich bread (I used potato bread)
2 eggs
1 cup coconut milk, plus extra
1 cup 2 % milk
1/2 stick unsalted butter, softened, plus extra
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 cup sweetened flaked coconut
1 teaspoon rose water

Butter an 8-inch square baking dish and heat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter 4 slices of bread and fit them into the bottom of the dish (I didn't trim the crusts but the bread would have fit better if I had). Cover with coconut and sprinkle with a light dusting of sugar. Repeat with another layer of buttered bread, coconut and sugar. Beat the eggs in a bowl, then add the coconut milk, dairy milk, rose water and any remaining sugar. Beat well to mix, then pour over the bread, making sure to soak it well. Add a bit more coconut milk to the bread in the dish as needed, to soak every little corner. Let sit for 10 minutes or so to soak up the custard, then bake for 30 to 45 minutes or until custard is set and coconut on top is browned. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

Well, I discovered that coconut milk isn't very flavorful, and while the pudding smelled great as it baked, it had very mild flavor. I cut the coconut milk with dairy milk because I didn't want it to be overwhelming in its coconut flavor, but I think that was a mistake. Next time I make this, I will try to use all coconut milk, and even add some extra coconut flavoring if I can get it, or some vanilla, and a little more rose water. Or maybe fresh lemon zest. But this has potential!

A Victorian recipe reborn: bread-and-butter pudding.

It has been really rainy, windy and cold these past few days, and we have had lightning and thunderstorms almost every day. I got wet to the skin from the knees down yesterday when I went in to work, but although I like my job I'd prefer to stay home during weather like this! Especially when there are interesting recipes in my antique cookbooks, that are begging to be tried. I especially like to bake when the weather is cold, so last weekend, and again yesterday, I pulled out the books and got to baking. One recipe that all of my old cookbooks seem to have, in at least one version, is bread pudding. I've made savory and sweet bread puddings before but never simple old bread-and-butter pudding. The recipe I used was from Godey's _Lady's Book_ from 1860, but I cut the recipe down to two servings. Here is the original recipe:

A Very Nice Bread Pudding.
Take three slices of bread; lay them in a deep dish; make a custard of one quart of milk and four eggs, sweeten to the taste, and flavor with lemon; pour the custard over the bread without stirring. Bake twenty minutes. Grate a little nutmeg on top. This is the finest bread pudding I have ever eaten. The white of the eggs beaten separately and put on top is an improvement, with a little jelly.

Of course, they don't tell you how big the slices of bread should be, nor how hot the oven should be! Many other old recipes I've seen have currants sprinkled over the bread, and with bread-and-butter pudding, the bread is buttered before being soaked with custard. I decided to alter the Godey's recipe to be more in line with other Victorian bread-and-butter pudding recipes. I also tried cutting the crusts off the bread and just using the crumb for the pudding, and it made a big difference in the texture. Here is the recipe I ended up with:

Victorian-esque Bread-and-butter Pudding.
4 slices of French or Italian bread (fresh loaf from the supermarket bakery, a few days old)
4 tablespoons of unsalted butter
3 regular eggs
1 pint of whole milk, plus extra
a handful of dried Zante currants
a few tablespoons of granulated sugar, plus extra
the zest from half a fresh lemon (I used Meyer lemon, because we have a tree)

Butter a small baking dish with some of the butter on a piece of waxed paper (the wrapper from the stick of butter is the best). My dish holds about 4 cups. Cut the crusts off of the bread slices and fit two of them into the bottom of the dish. If your butter is soft enough, butter the bread on one side before you put it in, but I had cold butter and just covered the bread with very thin slices of butter. Scatter some of the currants on top of the bread and butter, and sprinkle a few spoonfuls of sugar on top. Cover with another layer of bread, butter, currants and sugar. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs with a pint of milk and 2 or 3 more teaspoons of sugar, plus the lemon zest. Pour evenly over the bread, and push the bread down with a spoon to make sure it soaks up the custard. Pour a bit more milk over any dry spots where there isn't enough custard. Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Meanwhile, get a pie plate or deep baking dish, pour 1 inch or so of water into it, and set the dish with the pudding into the water. Bake in the water bath for 20 minutes, then check with a table knife to make sure all the custard is set and it's not soupy in the middle. Cool on a wire rack for a few minutes before serving. The pudding will puff up and brown on top, and then fall as it cools, like a souffle. It will also have a light texture like a souffle.

Many old Victorian recipes use spices and lemon zest, or rose or orange-flower water for flavoring, but not vanilla. The lemon by itself is delicious! I made the same recipe again yesterday, but left the crusts on the bread and added orange-flower water instead of the currants, and I don't like it as well as just the lemon. I may have to try adding a bit of rose water next time. I also have an old recipe for a coconut pound cake that uses rose water as part of the flavoring, and now I also want to use flaked coconut and rose water to flavor bread pudding! It might turn out to be really good!

Recap of birthday chocolate cherry cake and lamb skewers.

Cream cheese-filled raisin bread pudding.
Well, my mom's birthday cooking spree went pretty well, I think, although she ended up grilling the lamb herself instead of teaching me how to work her Y2K propane grill (she bought it during the Y2K sales). The marinated grilled lamb was tasty, and I substituted burgundy wine for the sherry, and added mint, garlic, rosemary, and oregano to the original vintage recipe; I do think it needed more onion, more black pepper, and next time I'll be marinating the meat for at least 48 hours. My mom also made the executive decision to cook the meat at a higher temperature for 15 minutes, rather than follow the recipe, which called for the meat to be barbecued for 30 minutes, at an unspecified low temperature. I thought the meat wasn't as tender as it should be, and next time I make this, I'll also try to par-cook the meat in the marinade first, in the oven, then put it on the skewers and finish it on the grill.

My mom did find her chocolate-cherry cake recipe, and it's one of those easy, yummy "doctored-up" cake mix things: take one dark chocolate cake boxed cake mix, put it in a bowl with 3 eggs and 1 can of cherry pie filling, mix thoroughly, and bake in a 9 by 13 pan. Cover with your favorite chocolate frosting, or melt 6 oz. of chocolate chips with about 1/3 cup of sugar, a little vanilla, a pinch of salt, and enough milk to make it a thick, spreadable consistency when all melted and mixed together. Spread/pour on top of the cake while hot. Really good.

I also ended up making up a recipe for her birthday breakfast since she couldn't find the one she wanted. The recipe she was thinking of was a type of bread pudding made with raisin bread and filled with cream cheese. This is what I did:

Get an 8 inch square baking dish, and butter the inside. Get a loaf of raisin cinnamon swirl bread and line the bottom of the dish with slices of bread (I left the crusts on, but would remove them if I made this again since they were hard to slice through when serving). Get a package of plain, unflavored cream cheese and use the back of a spoon to spread cream cheese on top of the bread in the dish, from edge to edge. Cover the cream cheese layer with another layer of cinnamon raisin bread. In a separate bowl, beat 4 eggs until they're a uniform yellow color and add 3/4 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla, and 3/4 cup milk. You could add some cinnamon or other spices, too, but I didn't. Blend egg mixture well, then pour over the bread and cream cheese in the dish. I would have sprinkled coarse sugar crystals on top at this point, but I didn't have any. Bake in a pre-heated 350 degree oven for 35 to 45 minutes, until the bread is soft, but not soggy, there is no liquid egg on top, and the cream cheese is melted. Again, really yummy. Serve warm for breakfast, or for dessert with whipped cream or ice cream. Or caramel sauce ...

Mother's Day Tea, part 2

image from Grandma's Graphics.
For the past few years I’ve prepared a tea brunch for my mom on Mother’s Day, setting the table with her mother’s everyday dishes (1940s vintage Franciscan Desert Rose pottery, which lives in the cabinet most of the year), and putting a bunch of her favorite flowers, orange blossoms, in a vase on the table. Here is a menu that I’ve used in the past for my mom on Mother’s Day:

Twining’s Earl Grey or English Breakfast tea
Lemon-currant scones (purchased from a local farmer's market)
Homemade lemon curd
Savory Breakfast Casserole (from my grandma’s cookbook)
Cherry cobbler (from my grandma’s cookbook)
Dutch Baby with fruit

In my family we often make savory casseroles/bread puddings for special occasion breakfasts like Christmas and Easter morning, because they can be assembled the day before, covered and put in the fridge overnight, and taken out and baked the next morning, saving time on a holiday. Not only are sweet and savory bread puddings easy dishes to make, they have been part of American home cooking for many years, definitely among the ranks of “comfort food,” which is a good thing to have on a holiday.

Here are some of the vintage recipes I've used:

Plain Muffins:
Temperature, 400 degrees; Time, 25 minutes

¼ cup butter
¼ cup sugar
1 egg
2 cups flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup milk

Cream the butter and add the sugar gradually, creaming while adding. Then add the well-beaten egg. Sift the flour, baking powder and salt together and add them alternately with the milk to thebutter and sugar mixture. For variation 1 cup of blueberries or other berries may be folded into the muffin mixture. Or, if desired, add ½ cup of chopped dates and ½ cup of chopped nut meats. Bake in greased muffin tins at 400 degrees for 25 minutes. Yield: 12 muffins, 2 ½ inches diameter, 1 ½ inches deep.
-- from Magic Chef Cooking, ca. 1925.

Breakfast Casserole:
Place olive oil in skillet and in it fry one piece of onion and one piece of garlic until clear. Add one can solid pack tomatoes, pour into a glass casserole and cover with half slices of bacon. Add six well beaten eggs on top and cover with pieces of bacon. Bake 45 minutes in a slow oven. Serve with hot corn bread.
-- from Burnt Toast: Victory Recipes, ca. 1942.

Cobbler (fresh fruit):
1 cup sugar
3 tablespoons butter
1 egg
1 1/2 cups flour
salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup milk

[Mix together to form batter.] Pour batter in pan. Cover with fresh fruit (I used cherries for my Mother's Day tea breakfast). Pour syrup over dough. Syrup: 1 cup sugar, 1 cup water [brought to a boil and then cooled]. Bake 45 minutes -- 350 degrees. Serve hot or cold with cream. [NOTE: like fruit pies, this dish will overflow and drip sugar syrup all over your oven. Put a cookie sheet underneath when you put it in the oven to catch the drips.]
-- from Burnt Toast: Victory Edition, ca. 1942.

Other recipes that would be a good addition to your Mother's Day tea brunch:

Fluffy Ricotta Pancakes

Scrambled Eggs with Smoked Salmon and Dill

Alsatian Cottage Cheese & Onion Tart

Caramel Risotto

Lemon Rice Pudding from Laurie Colwin's More Home Cooking

Mother's day is coming up; why not have tea?

So many of us are beginning to think “what should I give my mom on Mother’s Day?” Flowers are always nice, and chocolates are, too, but if you did that last year, how about something a little different for 2009? And seriously, does your mom really want another bottle of perfume or shower gel? And then there are the jewelry store and restaurant ads that attempt to open your already thin wallet ...

If you live nearby, or can travel to see her, why not prepare a leisurely brunch for your mom – or aunt, grandma, or other women who’ve nurtured you – and use your money more efficiently, while giving her a really meaningful present: your time and effort. Get some nice flowers – no need for a florist’s arrangement unless your mom prefers them – for a bouquet for the table, make her a pot of tea, and keep the whole thing simple, so that you can sit down with her and help her enjoy the day. Set the table with a tablecloth, cloth napkins, china, family heirlooms, if you have them – many mothers don’t bother to get them out for themselves – and have everything ready so that all she has to do is sit down and relax. And remember, don’t let her do the dishes!

In choosing the menu, your mother’s favorite foods should definitely be included, but if she’s like most moms I know, she’ll like most things, as long as she doesn’t have to make it! Choose foods that you can make well especially if you are a beginner cook; this is where simplicity will help. If you like to cook and you have family recipes – that your mom likes – do try and make at least one of them for her on Mother’s Day.

A tea brunch menu is different from a regular brunch menu, and from an afternoon tea menu, in a few small ways. Afternoon tea menus include tea, scones or crumpets, tea sandwiches, and petite pastries or other delicate sweets. Traditional brunch menus usually include coffee, juice, egg dishes, bacon or sausage dishes, fruit dishes, cereals, toast and breads, and perhaps some sweet pastries like danishes and doughnuts. A tea brunch is more substantial than an afternoon tea, and lighter than a brunch. A balanced menu is a good idea, so try to include tea, scones or crumpets, at least one light protein dish, some vegetables, fruits, and something sweet.

See the next post for recipes and a menu!

Cheap dishes for tax season.

This is from Sarah Josepha Hale's book, The Good Housekeeper, from 1841.

Plain Boiled Rice.

Wash in four or five waters a pint of good rice; tie it in a pudding cloth, allowing plenty of room to swell; put it on in a pot of cold water, and let it boil slowly for two hours. It may be eaten with butter and sugar, or molasses.

Bread Pudding.

Pieces of dry bread, crust, &c., if kept clean, and used before they are sour, make good puddings; no prudent housekeeper will allow them to be wasted. Soak the crusts in milk till they are soft; then add eggs, sweetening, and spice to your taste. Bake or boil.

A Very Economical Dinner.

One pound of sausages cut in pieces, with four pounds of potatoes, and a few onions, if they are liked, with about a table-spoonful of flour mixed in with a pint of water and added to the dish, will make a sufficient dinner for five or six persons. The potatoes must be cut in slices, and stewed with the sausages till tender. Or you may use a pound and a half of meat (mutton is best) instead of the sausages. Season with pepper, salt and sage or thyme.