String-Roasting in My Fireplace

Hooray!  It has been cold enough to have a fire!

I had hoped (and planned) for a day like this and so I had purchased two tiny Rock Cornish Game hens to cook in front of the fire.  I wanted to try string roasting again and this time get it right.  (Previously I tried it at a public cooking demonstration and it didn't turn out.  See this post here.)

What I wanted was a good fire that was putting out a lot of heat but also had some good embers.  I also needed to plan where the string would be:  The recommendation was to have it hanging from the mantel and to make it long, but my mantel wouldn't work for that.

My fireplace has a metal piece at the top of the opening, and that piece had a slotted hole in it.  Its original purpose is unknown to me but it looked promising for string roasting.  The only problem was that I knew the string would be short.

A long string is useful because you can get the meat to twirl, which twists the string first one way and then the other.  Basically, it is like having the meat turn itself on a spit, with little work from the cook.  But I knew I would make it work even with a short string.

When I started the fire, I took the birds out of the refrigerator so they could start coming to room temperature.  I knew I needed to wait 60 to 90 minutes for the fire to mature enough for cooking.

With two birds to cook at the same time, I decided to hang one below the other, using chopsticks inserted in them to act as connectors.  I know this description isn't very useful unless you already know what I'm doing; the pictures below will help.

I found an S-hook (made by my awesome blacksmith friends) and put it into the slot.  Then I estimated the total length the two birds would need, along with a little distance between them.  From there I estimated the longest distance from the top of the opening to the top of the first bird that I thought I could get away with, and cut a string four times that length.

It is important to have a pan below the birds to catch the drips and that figured into my estimation.  I chose the shortest pan I could use close to the fire and put it into the fireplace with two cups of water in it.

The chopsticks were inserted into the birds (two per bird), the long string was tied into a loop, and two more loops were tied at a length that would separate the birds but not too far apart.  I put in an effort to make those two loops the same length.  I also got all the strings wet.

I coated each bird with melted butter and many dried breadcrumbs.  No other seasoning was used.

Once the fire was ready, I put the loops on the chopsticks and hung the birds on the hook.  Here is the set up:

The long loop had each end over a stick and went over the S-hook.  The small loops connected the lower stick of the first bird with the upper stick of the second bird.  In this picture one of the loops is too close to the end of the stick.  Push the loops so they are snug up against the bird:  This keeps the birds balanced and stops the risk of the whole thing coming apart while cooking.

It was easy to get them spinning but with the short string, they didn't stay spinning very long.  The fire was hot and I didn't want to sit in front of it.  So I sat off to the side and used a long handled fork to keep the birds spinning.  Every few minutes I used the fork to push on a stick to twist the string.  Then I let it go and watched it spin until it slowed down again.  I thought this worked well.

It took about 45 minutes until my thermometer showed the meat was over 140 degrees F on both birds.  They were a lovely golden brown so I decided to take them down.  Unfortunately I lost control of them when unhooking the long loop and they fell down into the drip bowl.  This didn't harm the birds but it did dump the liquid all over the floor of the fireplace.  No drippings to try!

The birds rested on the kitchen counter while I quickly tidied the hearth.  (The cats were very interested in what I had left there!)

The red juices concerned me.

The Verdict

The birds were attractive to serve; it was fun to tell my guest taster about the cooking process while we ate dinner.  I served stuffing and a salad as side dishes.

The meat was tender, the breast was still moist, and the skin had some crisp and crackle to it.  

The flavor was good!  My guest taster wanted more salt but I didn't need it.  We enjoyed it.  I call it a success!

The only part that wasn't cooked enough -- there was still a lot of pink -- was where the thigh was pressed up against the rest of the body.  It was easy to fix with a minute in the microwave oven.  From this, I think I could have roasted the birds another 10 to 15 minutes without worrying about overcooking them.

I had thought about turning the birds while they were cooking to make sure the tops got as cooked as the bottoms, but with two tied together, I decided it was too risky.  I didn't want to drop them.  This was a good decision considering what happened when I took them off at the end.  Fortunately, the birds were cooked well top to bottom.  I think this worked because the fire was so big.

Cracknells, Revisited

I was making Royal Frosting the other day, which requires egg whites and not the yolks.  I decided to take the opportunity to make cracknells again with those yolks.

To see the whole procedure, see the original post, "To make Cracknells".

This time I started with the yolks, 6 or 7, I hadn't quite remembered the amount.  This was about 1/2 of what I used to make cracknells the first time, so I chose to use 1/2 pound each of flour and sugar.

Considering the alternate recipes that used no yolks and all butter, I decided that was about right but if I needed to, I could put in more butter.

I also wanted to make a different flavor.  One of the alternate suggestions was caraway and rose water.  I LOVE caraway and I love rosewater, so why not both?

Here's the list:

1/2 lb flour
1/2 lb sugar
6 or 7 egg yolks
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon rose water
1 teaspoon caraway seeds

glaze:
1 egg white and 1 tablespoon rose water, well mixed

Preheat the oven to warm, about 155 degrees F.

I mixed in the yolks and butter together into the mixed flour and sugar.  Then I mixed in the rose water and caraway seeds, and kneaded in enough extra flour to make the dough non-sticky.

The dough rolled out to about 1/4 inch depth on the floured silicone mat.  I cut the dough in rounds at about 2 inches (5 cm) in diameter.  That made a lot of them and they fit well in the pan.

I kept rolling the dough and cutting out shapes until I had used up all the dough.

Then I poked holes with a fork and brushed glaze well over each one.

They baked for four hours at that temperature; at the 2 hour mark I loosened them from the pan.  A few cracked but I pushed them together for the rest of the baking.

After the four hours, I turned off the oven and let them sit in the oven overnight.

The next day, I took them off the pans.

The Verdict

Oh my, yes, these are good!  The caraway was there but understated.  Slightly sweet and very crispy.  I could not taste the rose water at all.  And I was still glad I used a glaze.

Some were missing before I took the picture...

These things are addictive.  I want to just keep nibbling on them.  If any survive, I want to try them with cheese and wine as a dessert.  Just having one while drinking some wine was good!  Success again!

Try making them.  They are easy and tasty and different from a cracker and from a cookie.  A nice way to surprise your guests.

"To make Cracknells"

I am still enjoying a book I bought recently, titled John Evelyn, Cook. The first recipe I tried from it was for a Quaking Pudding -- see here for the post.

ISBN 0 907325 653

Today I was intrigued by Recipe #127, "To make Cracknells."  I wondered if they were a form of cracker, my neighbor thought they might be like pie crust, and they also struck me as some form of cookie.

The recipe does not look complicated but it is vague about some of the quantities.  I made sure I had ample amounts of all and crossed my fingers.

127. To make Cracknells.

Take a pound of sugar finely searsed, and a pound of the finest floure, mingle them together; take the powder of dry'd Orenge Pills, finelie sersed, mingle it amongst the flowre and Sugar such a quantity as you like, then take a little butter and as much egge yolkes as will make it into a very Stiff paste, then rolle them out very thin, putt them upon Papers verie well flowred, and pricke them thicke, beat a peice of the yolke of an egge with a litle rose or orenge flowre water, and wash them verie well over, and bake them in a slow oven before they be too hard raise them from your Paper, and then put them in againe to harden keep them neere the fire.

My Redaction

1 pound all-purpose flour
1 pound sugar
1/4 ounce dried orange zest (see notes below)
2 tablespoons butter, softened
15 egg yolks, beaten  (see instructions)

glaze:  1 egg yolk, beaten, divided
            1 teaspoon rose water
            1 teaspoon orange flower water

I ended up needing more than 1 dozen eggs!

Preheat oven to 200 degrees F.

Place the flour and sugar in a large bowl and mix well.  Add the orange peel and mix well.

Slightly sparkly from the sugar

Cut in the butter, as you do for making a pie crust.  Use your hands, if necessary, to make sure there are no big pieces of butter left in the flour mixture.

I didn't know in advance how many yolks were needed to make "a very Stiff paste" so I mixed in 2 at a time until the mixture pulled together in a ball.  I recommend you put in 10 yolks at first and mix them in well.  Then put in one at a time, mixing well, until you achieve the goal.  It will be a slightly sticky ball that holds together with only a gentle squeeze.

Just before there were enough yolks in it.  A little crumbly overall.

This is just right.

Flour your rolling surface and keep extra flour nearby.  Roll the dough to about 1/4 inch thickness or less.  I floured the top of the dough as needed to keep the rolling pin from sticking to it.  At first I rolled it on the countertop but found it worked better on my Roul'pat.  It made it easier to pick up the pieces, because they were slightly sticky.

As thin as I could take it, without the paste breaking.

I had to choose how to cut them.  I decided to use a 4 1/2 inch round cutter, so they looked generous.  I also cut some rectangles that were about 1 to 1 1/2 inches wide.

The pieces were placed on well-floured pans and pricked many times with a small fork.

For the glaze, I beat the yolk then divided it into two small bowls.  I added the orange flower water to one and the rose water to the other, mixing each well.  I used a brush to put the glaze on each piece; I heeded Mr. Evelyn's direction to "wash them verie well over" -- I spread the glaze thinly but tried to cover each piece well.

Here, five were glazed with rosewater, the one with a notch used orange flower water.

As each tray (there were three) was pricked and glazed, it went into the oven.

I checked them every 30 minutes; after 2 hours I turned the oven to "warm" (175 degrees F) and left them for four hours.  Then I turned the oven off and left the pieces in overnight.  At the 2 hour mark, I loosened the pieces as directed.  I also loosened them again before leaving them in overnight.

All done.

The Verdict

There were 16 rounds and several rectangular pieces in total.

The first thing I noticed was that most of the round pieces had stuck to the pan again, so some broke when I took them off.  I think the pans could have used more flour on them.  Also, they didn't spread, which I appreciated.

The next noticeable thing was that the rounds weren't all dry all the way through.  The middles (and sometimes to near the edges) were still soft and a little sticky, whereas the rectangular pieces (narrower) were dry all the way through.  I think I probably should have cut smaller pieces, perhaps 2 inch diameter rounds.  This would give more to share around and a better chance of having each piece dried all the way through.

You can see the darker region on the round -- that is the sticky part.

This gave me some that were crispy (the ones with a soft middle) and some that were crunchy (dried all the way through), both of which I liked.  Neither were too hard to chew and both had the flavor come through.

And what was that flavor?  Definitely orange, definitely sweet (but not overly so).  The ones with the orange flower glaze were more "orangey" than the rose water glaze.  Both glazes gave a light floral perfume to the flavor, and I can say I really like the rose/orange combination.  The one piece I left unglazed for comparison was good but the glaze increases the flavor level, so I would always want to use a glaze.  I have no preference for the glaze flavor -- both were good!  The differences were subtle but there.

Success!  Here is a picture showing a top and a side view.  I estimate the thickness to be about 1/4 inch.  The glaze became shiny and the paste became dry all the way through.



When I first read the recipe (okay, the first three times I read the recipe), I had no idea what Mr. Evelyn meant by "Orenge Pills" -- I kept thinking, "What kind of pill is he talking about?"  Then I realized he meant "peels" and so I had to figure out how to get dried, powdered orange peel.

My daughter had the best idea: remove the zest off the oranges and then dry it, which is what I did.  I knew I was just getting the good part of the peel without the bitter white part.  So I did that with four small oranges (from my yard!), placed the zest on a pan, and dried it in a warm (175 degree F) oven for about 30 minutes.  Once it cooled I rubbed it with my fingers to break up the clumps.  I considered pounding it in my mortar but decided to keep the particles as big as they were.  I'm glad I did, as I think they added a good orange flavor.

Here is the picture I took about it.  The composition made me laugh!



Finally, the book's editor added a footnote to this recipe:  "Related to the French craquelins.  See Hess, pp. 155-6 for a discussion of cracknells."

I checked with my fellow historical cooks about the Hess book.  My friend JH sent me a picture of the pages; it lists two versions of the cracknell recipe.  One is flavored with caraway and rosewater, and also contains yeast.  There is a half pound of butter and no egg yolks at all.  The other uses 4 yolks, 1 white, and 2 ounces of butter and is flavored with rosewater and coriander seeds.  Neither uses a glaze.  The first bakes in a "soft oven" and the other calls for "an oven that is not too hot."  A variation has them baked on buttered plates in "a pretty quick oven."

As for craquelins, they are defined as "made of the yolks of eggs, water, and flower; and fashioned like a hollow trendle [a cupped disk or ring]."  Another reference says they are to be "thrown into boiling water and when they rise, they are to be lifted out, wiped, and baked", which is a medieval technique.

I can see why making the shape like a ring is recommended -- it would avoid the sticky center I found even after a long, slow bake.

These would be good as a light dessert, perhaps served with cheese and wine, especially if they were smaller.

I still think the glaze is necessary!

A Quaking Pudding

I was wandering through a little bookstore in Los Angeles one day.  The cookbook section was small but had some interesting books, including the one I decided to buy.

ISBN 0 907325 653

Such a simple title!  I was intrigued to open it and was not disappointed.  From page 7:

John Evelyn (1620 - 1706), virtuoso, diarist and author, was the second son of a prosperous gentry family of Wotton in Surrey, whose wealth was founded on the manufacture of gunpowder in Queen Elizabeth's reign.

The description goes on to tell us that, among other things, he was a founder of the Royal Society, and "the first gardener-cook for whom meat was incomplete without a salad."  He was particularly interested in gardening, architecture, and city planning.

The editor of this volume, Christopher Driver, tells us that he first saw the manuscripts of John Evelyn some time in the 1950s:

... I saw exhibited there a large volume bound in decorated calf gilt, with Evelyn's arms on the cover and his woodcut bookplate inside.  It was titled, Receipts Medicinal, and proved on inspected to contain not only prescriptions for sick cattle and humans, but receipts for the still-room, formulas for preserves and perfumery (many of these in Portuguese), and culinary recipes.  (page 8)

He later went back and typed up the receipts of cookery.  "Evelyn's neat - but faint - hand always gives me a frisson, as though a friend had planted a great walnut tree three centuries ago."

The story of John Evelyn's life, as far as the editor could determine, is a good read.  Mr. Evelyn lived during a time of change in England, and his manuscripts reflect that.  I recommend it.

There are 343 receipts listed, some of which have a title only and no text.  There are many repeats.  Mr. Driver has reproduced them faithfully, including the spelling of the time and making notes about words that were crossed out or added in after the original words were written.  He also tried to determine the relationships that are mentioned in the receipts, tying the name or title to a person known at the time, and how Mr. Evelyn or his family might have known them.

Especially useful is the Glossary, starting page 179, that defines so many of the words used in the receipts.  I think I would use this when reading other old recipes, too.  Did you know a "kilderkin" was 16 gallons of beer?

The first recipe that caught my attention was #76, on page 69:

A quaking pudding

Take eight egges a pinte of creame, 4 spoonefulls of flower, a nutmeg a little rosewater, a quantity of sugar you thinke fitt, wett the cloath you intend to boile it in, then floure it and let it boile two houres.

I have made boiled puddings before and usually enjoy them, so I wanted to try this one.  The idea of it "quaking" made me think it might be more delicate than the puddings I've tried that used a lot of flour or had a base of bread crumbs.

My Redaction

8 eggs
1 pint heavy cream
4 tablespoons flour
1/2 tablespoon freshly ground nutmeg
1 tablespoon rosewater
1/2 cup sugar

See the nutmeg bits?  I grated them then pounded the rest in a mortar.

First I filled a large pan up halfway with water and also filled the kettle, and began heating the water in both.

I broke the eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork.  Then I poured in the cream and stirred it well.

The flour was spooned into the mixture.  First I stirred it to break up the clumps of flour, then beat it more vigorously to distribute the grains well.

The nutmeg and rosewater were stirred in next.

Finally, I added the sugar and stirred until all the sugar was dissolved.

The mixture looked a lot like pancake batter, but was very thin.

Yes, just like pancake batter.

I rinsed the pudding cloth well (this gets rid of any residual soap from the last washing), then draped it over a bowl that was deep enough to hold all the mixture.

I sprinkled flour over the cloth.  It shouldn't be thick but it should be spread around well.

The picture doesn't show it well, but the cloth is at least lightly sprinkled.

At this point the water in the large pan was simmering and the kettle was steaming.

So I poured the mixture into the cloth, pulled the edges up and gathered them into a bundle to contain the mixture.  I tied the edges together with a sturdy cotton string, not too snugly because you need to leave room for the pudding to swell.



Some of the mixture was seeping out so I worked quickly to get the cloth put into the large pan of hot water.  As soon as it touched the water, the parts seeping out cooked and stopped the leak.

I poured in enough hot water from the kettle to nearly fill the pan, putting the water level an inch or so below the top edge of the pan.

Finally, I gathered the excess cloth into a bundle and rested it on one of the handles of the pan.  This keeps it from falling over the edge and possibly catching on fire.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble!

I adjusted the flame under the pan until the water was just simmering without boiling over or bouncing the cloth around.  I noticed the water was circulating around the whole thing, and I liked that.

I set the timer for 2 hours.

After two hours of gently boiling it, I pulled the pudding cloth from the hot water, let it drain back into the pan for a minute or so, and then placed the whole thing in a bowl.  I removed the string and opened the cloth -- it is hot so be careful when touching it.

The top, as it came out of the cloth.

I could see the pudding was, indeed, quaking!  It looked delicate so I carefully put my serving bowl over the pudding's bowl and inverted it.  This allowed the pudding to transfer without breaking or having to pull the cloth off.

The underside.  I removed that bit of eggshell before serving.  The brown specks are nutmeg.

I sprinkled a little ground mace over the top to decorate it before serving.

It needed something decorative around the edges but that didn't happen.

The Verdict

The pudding was served still warm as a side dish to some pork confit on a bed of apples and onions, and a tossed green salad.  (Remember, John Evelyn thought meat was incomplete without a salad!)

It was easy to remove pieces with a spoon.  It was soft but firm enough to hold its shape.

Cut away view, from the side.

The texture was mostly smooth, meaning it felt smooth on the tongue but looked a little lumpy. 

The flavor was very delicate:  the rosewater and nutmeg combination suggested that some fruit had been added.  My guest taster thought there might be vanilla in it.  The sweetness was a little too much for me for it to be a side dish -- I think next time I would add only 1/3 cup sugar.  But it wasn't bad, and seemed to emphasize the sensation that fruit had been added.

My guest taster wondered if there was cheese in it, which I attribute to the heavy cream and the texture.

The ground mace was warmed by the pudding and provided a lovely scent to entice our taste buds.

It was, as I suspected, a delicate custard.  The little flour in it probably acted as a binder to allow me to turn it out into a dish without it breaking.  But that also allowed it to quake, or wiggle when the bowl was moved. 

A success, for certain!  We both enjoyed it as a side dish and I look forward to having the leftovers for breakfast or lunch.

Rose Shrub, a Springtime Treat

I have been hard-pressed to do my blog posts for the last two months.  No, work and life in general have not been the culprits; I can only point to my loquat tree in astonishment.

A loquat, in case you didn't know, is a semi-tropical fruit that happily grows in my area and I have a decent-sized tree on my property.  It has produced fruit before but this year, it outdid itself.  I have picked over 120 pounds of fruit so far and it looks like another 20 to 40 are still on it.  I have made loquat jam, loquat chutney, spiced loquats, and loquat liqueur.  I have 12 pounds cleaned and frozen, waiting for a break in my schedule.  I've given away many pounds to friends.  Loquats are lovely to eat fresh, so I've had a lot of that.

Here is a picture of my tree and a closeup of the fruit on the tree.

One heavily laden loquat tree

Luscious, heavenly, flavorful loquats

The fruit is sweet and tastes somewhat like peaches or apricots without the tartness.  But it is different from them, which makes it a treat.  The recipes are not historic and, although they are foodie fun, most of them I got off the Internet, so I didn't want to write them up for my blog.  Now you know!

But today's recipe has to do with another springtime treat:  Roses!

The wet winter and now cool, wet spring has my yard in full bloom and among the flowers are the roses I planted a few years ago.  Two are highly scented and one of those has been producing flowers regularly.  I decided I wanted to try something with the petals.

I turned to a book I used once before, when I made a Rosemary Tea Sherbert  (part 1 and part 2).  It is Flower Cookery -- The Art of Cooking with Flowers.

By Mary MacNicol, Fleet Press Corp, published 1967

Today's recipe is on page 164.

Rose Shrub

Take one and a half pounds of fresh rose petals, add three cups of water and boil up.  Remove from heat and when cool, strain.  Then add two and half pounds of sugar, and the beaten white of an egg, boil, skim, strain and bottle.


My Redaction

I picked all the rose petals I could off of the three rose bushes.  The dark red roses aren't scented but I wanted them for color.  The other two were deeply scented. 

The recipe books all say to remove the bitter white base of the rose petals.  I tasted them and found that only the red petals had a bitter base, which I tore off.  The other bases were sweet.

A beautiful basketful, picked on a rainy day

It filled my basket to the brim and yet the total weight was barely six ounces.  I needed to scale the proportions.

Rounding up to call it 6

1 1/2 pounds petals (by weight) to 3 cups of water (by volume) is the same as

24 ounces petals to 24 ounces water, so that scales down to 6 ounces of petals to 6 ounces of water.

Similarly, 2 1/2 pounds of sugar is 40 ounces (by weight), so

24 ounces petals to 40 ounces sugar gives

3 ounces petals to 5 ounces sugar.  I had 6 ounces petals so I used 10 ounces of sugar.


That is not a lot of water but the roses took up so much volume that I chose to use my enameled cast iron Dutch oven.  I put the water in the bottom and then packed the petals in on top.

A large pot filled with roses.

I liked that the lid was heavy as I wanted to keep as much of the water and rose scent in the container as possible.  I set the heat to medium high until the water boiled -- I saw steam coming out from under the lid.  Then I turned the heat down to low, which stopped the steam, but I could still hear it simmering.

After about 25 minutes, I turned the heat off and let the whole thing cool for a few hours.  At no time during the cooking and cooling process did I lift the lid.

Once it was cold, I looked inside.

Now they are cooked down.

I decided to squeeze the petals to extract all the liquid I could from them.  I scooped them into a small colander, placed that in the pan, and squeezed with my hands until no more liquid came out. 

Squished until they could offer no more.

You can see the lovely red liquid in the bottom of the pan.

Then I strained the liquid through a fine sieve into a measuring cup and saw it was almost 8 ounces.  I still decided to use the original 6 ounces of liquid quantity to determine the sugar amount because that is what the recipe seemed to indicate.

I put the liquid into a small saucepan and then I added the sugar and the entire amount of egg white, beaten.  I suppose I could have put in a lot less white but I chose not to.  I stirred it all together and put it over medium heat.

Just starting to warm up.

It started foaming almost immediately but I waited to skim it until it had come to a boil.  As it was heating I kept turning the temperature down so it wouldn't foam over.  When I saw bubbling along the edges, I used a small ladle to skim the foam off the top.

Foam!  You can see the boiling at this point, so I started skimming.

I kept skimming through the foam even though it seemed like I was taking a lot off.  Eventually I started seeing the clear syrup peeking through the foam.

Dark islands of syrup.

So I kept skimming, trying not to take the syrup off, until the surface was pretty clear.

Nearly done.

I used a wet paper towel to wipe the sides of the pan so that when I poured the syrup out, it wouldn't pick up more foam.  Then I poured the syrup through the fine mesh sieve into a clean jar.

8 Ounces of Nectar!

After it cooled, I gave it the taste test.

The Verdict

First we tasted it just as it was, straight out of the jar.  It was definitely a sweet syrup, thick, with a lovely rose flavor.  One tester is a person who does not generally like the flavor of roses.  When she tried this, she liked it.  She felt the sugar gave the taste enough body to feel like she was drinking something, instead of just getting a strong scent of roses.  She also felt the rose flavor was an actual flavor and not just perfume.

Everyone liked it although we all agreed that it was too sweet to have more than just a sip or two.

So we tried it mixed with several other liquids.

Just adding cold water was okay but I think too much water was added; the ratio should be more like equal parts rose shrub and water but for me to say that, I will need to experiment more.

I also added equal parts tonic water, which was interesting because the tonic water is bubbly and has a bitter taste.  That shifted the whole experience away from sweet, which I liked, and the bitter added an extra dimension in flavor.  One taster, who does not like bitter, did not like the tonic water mix.

I mixed some of the shrub with a white wine, a little more wine than syrup.  That was intriguing because I no longer got the definite rose flavor but it didn't taste like wine, either.  It was a perfumed, fruity sensation that I truly liked.  One tester thought it could be described as a "rose sangria".  She does not normally like wine but felt this was a mixture she could drink, and she described it as "classy."  I liked that.

We also mixed it with white wine vinegar.  When it was about 2 parts shrub to 1 part vinegar, it was too tart for a beverage but we thought it would be a good sweet-and-sour glaze on roasted meat.  At about 3 parts syrup to 1 part vinegar, it was a refreshing, sippable beverage.  Actually, this is what I think of when I think about a beverage called shrub.

Success!

I want to make more (keeping blooming, my rose bushes!) and try it with other foods.  I think it would be good in lemonade, or drizzled over fresh loquats (or strawberries), or on pancakes, or in my hot chocolate, or mixed with vanilla yogurt as a fruit salad dressing, or brushed on the top of a cake hot from the oven (white, yellow, or lemon cake).

How to Pickle Mushrooms

I was enjoying the book Dining with William Shakespeare by Madge Lorwin, which I wrote about in a previous post, "My Salmon is Soused..." when I came across (on page 18) a recipe called "How to Pickle Mushrooms."  

The original recipe was cited as from William Rabisha's The whole Body of Cookery Dissected.

Actually the full title of the book is The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected, Taught and Fully Manifested, Methodically, Artificially, and According to the Best Tradition of the English, French, Italian, Dutch, &c., Or, A Sympathy of All Varieties in Natural Compounds in that Mysterie, which amuses me to no end.  I think today we would use the word "artfully" instead of "artificially".  

You can download a PDF of this book consisting of scanned images at
http://lcweb2.loc.gov/service/rbc/rbc0001/2013/2013pennell28918/2013pennell28918.pdf.

Image taken from the Library of Congress Rare Books Collection

This is the 1673 edition.  The first edition arrived in 1661 and four more editions were published over the next 20 years.  You can purchase facsimile print copies, mostly of the 1682 edition.  Once I had downloaded the Library of Congress file of the 1673 version, I found the recipe on page 2 of Book I, right after "How to Pickle Cowcumbers."

Mr. Rabisha presents himself as a person who was raised right and was trained in the art of cooking. He was a master cook in England and in foreign places to ambassadors and nobles alike.  He wished to share his "small endeavors" with the public in hopes of assisting the young "Practitioners" of the art.

What I really love is the poem "In Commendation of the Author" (first stanza):

Cooks burn your Books, and vail your empty brains; 
Put off your feigned Aprons, view the strains
Of this new piece, whose Author doth display
The bravest dish, and shew the nearest way
T' inform the lowest Cook how he may dress,
And make the meanest meat the highest mess;
To please the Fancy of the daintiest Dame,
And sute her palate that she may praise the same.
Give him return of worth, (besides due wages)
And recommend his book to future ages.
Let it be know Rabisha here hath hit,
The fairest passage that hath dared it.
     But read his Book, and judge his Pains,
     His is the labour, yours the gains.

This poem goes on for two pages, describing the contents of the different parts (books) and the high quality of the recipes.

So let us take advantage of William Rabisha's labours and see what gains we get.

How to Pickle Mushrooms

Original version:

Take a bushell of Mushrooms, blanch them over the crown, barm them beneath; if they are new, they look red as a Cherry; if old, black; this being done, through them into a pan of boyling water, then take them forth and let them drain; when they are cold, put them up into your Pot or Glass, puth thereto Cloves, Mace, Ginger, Nutmeggs, whole Pepper; Then take white wine, a little Vinegar, with a little quantity of salt, so pour the Liquour into your Mushrooms, and stope them close for your use all the year.

Ms. Lorwin's "working version":

1/2 pound fresh young mushrooms, about 1 inch in diameter
2 cups water
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon peppercorns
2 cloves
1 large piece of whole mace
1 thin slice fresh ginger
1/2 nutmeg, broken up
3/4 cup white wine
1 tablespoon vinegar

Wash the mushrooms under cool running water.  Slice off the stems to within 1/2 inch of the caps.  Put the water, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, and the mushrooms into a saucepan and bring to a rapid boil.  Drain the mushrooms immediately and put them into a half-pint, screw-top jar with the spices and the rest of the salt.  Pour the wine and the vinegar over them--if there is not enough liquid to cover the mushrooms, add more wine vinegar.

Cover the jar with a piece of plastic before screwing on the top--otherwise the vinegar will corrode the metal.  Turn the jar upside down several times to distribute the seasonings.  Store in a cool place (but do not refrigerate) for three or four days before using.

My Notes

I couldn't get all small mushrooms but instead halved or quartered the ones I could get.

I used cubebs instead of peppercorns because I could.  I don't have whole mace so I used 1/4 teaspoon of ground mace.  Instead of fresh ginger I used one large slice (halved) of candied ginger.  I used a dry Chardonnay and apple cider vinegar.

The spices

I called it a "rapid boil" when the water was foaming around the mushrooms.

It truly seemed like the mushrooms wouldn't fit in a half pint jar, so I cleaned and microwave-sterilized a pint jar.  This was too big and I hoped the extra air in the jar wouldn't make difference in the flavor.

It didn't seem like the amount of liquid called for was enough so I added some more cider vinegar.  It might have been too much because the mushrooms started floating above the bottom of the jar.

It filled more than half of the jar

Overall the preparation was very easy and I would be willing to do it again and in greater quantities. Assuming it tastes good!

The finished jar was labeled and placed in a storage cupboard for a few days.

The Verdict

We waited four days to taste the mushrooms.  All three of us enjoyed it.  I didn't put in too much cider vinegar after all, although I think it would still taste fine without as much.  If I do this again, I think I will just barely blanch the mushrooms -- they were cooked more than I thought they would be.

Overall, the taste was slightly sour from the vinegar, a little sweet (from the wine?  from the candied ginger?), and the spices were present and interesting but not particularly dominant.  Just right, I would say.

Success!

Ms. Lorwin notes that

Pickled mushrooms were used as "salad" appetizers both when mushrooms were in season and during the cold months to add some zest to usually heavy meals.

Sounds good to me!

I would like to close with the final few lines of the "In Commendation of the Author" poem:

Therefore brave Book, into the world be gone,
Thou vindicates thy Author; fearing none
That ever was, or is, or e're shall be,
Able to find the parallel to thee.

My Salmon is Soused...

I had fresh salmon fillets and wanted something different to do with them.  Many of my historical recipes don't deal with salmon (it was protected and regulated and thus was expensive during the Elizabethan era) but I did find something intriguing in my copy of Dining with William Shakespeare, by Madge Lorwin.

ISBN 0-689-10731-5

On page 99, in the chapter labeled "A Feast for Beatrice and Benedick", there is a recipe titled

To Marrinate Salmon to be Eaten Hot or Cold.

The original recipe, taken from Robert May's The Accomplisht Cook, is:

Take a Salmon, cut it into joles and rands, and fry them in good sweet sallet oyl or clarified butter, then set them by in a charger, and have some white or claret-wine, and wine-vinegar as much as will cover it, and put the wine and vinegar into a pipkin with all manner of sweet herbs bound up in a bundle, as rosemary, tyme, sweet marjoram, parsley, winter savory, bay-leaves, sorrel, and sage, as much of one as the other, large mace, slic't ginger, gross pepper, slic't nutmeg, whole cloves, and salt; being well boild together, pour it on the fish, spices and all, being cold, then lay on slic't lemons and lemon-peel, and cover it up close; so keep it for present spending, and serve it hot or cold with the same liquor it is soust in, with the spices, herbs, and lemons on it.

You can view Robert May's book through Project Gutenberg here:  The Accomplisht Cook.  It was published in 1685 and was "Approved by the fifty five Years Experience and Industry of ROBERT MAY; in his Attendance on several Persons of great Honour."

Ms. Lorwin's adapted version is:

One 1 1/2-pound piece of thick salmon fillet
4 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup minced parsley
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon peppercorns
4 cloves
1 bay leaf
1/2 nutmeg, broken up
1 large piece of whole mace
1/4 teaspoon thyme
1/4 teaspoon rosemary
1/4 teaspoon marjoram
1/4 teaspoon savory
1/4 teaspoon sage
6 tablespoons wine vinegar
1 1/4 cups claret
1 lemon, sliced thin and seeded

I love all the spices!

Rinse the salmon fillet under cold running water and pat it dry with paper towels or a clean white cloth.  Cut into approximately 2 1/2-inch squares.  Melt the butter in a skillet large enough to hold all the fish in a single layer.  Arrange the fish pieces in the skillet and saute' over low heat only until the flesh is no longer translucent, turning once -- about four minutes on each side.  Remove the skillet from the heat and set aside, covered, until the sousing liquid is ready.

Beginning to cook

Turned once

Add the herbs, spices, and wine vinegar to the claret and bring the mixture to a boil.  Lower the heat to simmer and cook ten minutes.

Looks a bit muddy but smells good

Layer the pieces of salmon in a small, deep bowl -- a 1 1/2-quart stainless steel or glass bowl is a good size.  Pour the hot marinade, including the seasonings, over the salmon.  Arrange the lemon slices over the top, pushing a few down into the liquid at the sides of the bowl.  Cover and set aside until the marinade has cooled.  

I used one lemon, not two

Refrigerate until needed.  Serve the salmon cold with some of the marinade poured over it.

This dish keeps well for a week to ten days; after that the fish begins to toughen.  But if you plan to keep it that long, peel the lemon before slicing it, since the peel tends to give the fish a slightly bitter taste if left more than a day or two in the marinade.

We preferred the salmon cold, but if you wish to serve it warm, reheat it in the marinade in the top of a double boiler.

My Notes

I was out of parsley and fresh ginger (and dried ginger) so I skipped the parsley and used dried, ground galingale in place of the ginger.  About 1/4 teaspoon of the galingale.  Also I used cubebs instead of peppercorns, just because I could.

My sage and mace were ground.  The nutmeg was broken up by pounding it a bit in the mortar.  Oh my, it smelled good.

The rosemary and thyme were fresh from the garden.  I used about a teaspoon of each.

I used white wine vinegar and chardonnay for the wine.  "Claret" used to mean clear wine and I felt that white wine was the best choice here.  And yes, my lemon was a Meyer lemon! The tree still has some fruit on it.

The salmon cooked for almost exactly four minutes on a side but wasn't "no longer translucent".  I didn't worry about it because I set the skillet aside as Ms. Lorwin instructed and the residual heat finished cooking the fish.

I was concerned about the spices being poured on the salmon.  This seemed appropriate to get them to infuse their flavors in the meat but I really didn't want to take a bite of it and crunch into a whole cubeb or chunk of nutmeg.  My hope was that I could somehow rinse off the big bits of herbs and spices before serving.

It took about an hour before I felt the marinade had cooled enough to refrigerate.  Then the whole dish cooled for about four hours before eating.

The Verdict

I served the salmon cold alongside a tossed salad with a variety of vegetables.  It was easy to brush off the big pieces of spices so that turned out to be not a worry at all.  I poured a little of the marinade on each piece but put it through a fine mesh sieve first, to remove the chunks.

This was really good.  I am not super fond of fish but like it well enough.  This was cooked thoroughly, did not smell "fishy", and the marinade have enough acid bite (just a little) to make the fish and the spices blend together well. The flesh was firm and moist.

The spices were not overwhelming nor were they dominated by any particular flavor.  Just a balanced blend with occasional little dashes of flavor on your tongue.

My two guest tasters both liked it, enough to ask for seconds.  We all agreed that serving it cold seemed the better choice to let the flavor of the marinade shine through.

Success!  Easy!  Give it a try!