Catalan Horchata & the Evolution of the Flip -- a Pinedo recipe and more

Happy 2024!

This begins my 13th year of blogging.  I continue to be astonished that I was able to continue blogging for so long.  My experiences have been many and my education has been vast.  I've learned techniques and recipes from a variety of time periods and cultures.  It is fun to taste something completely different or a riff on something that is familiar.  Sometimes I review my early posts just to remind myself of what I have done, because this is my 289th post and some of them have faded in my memory.  

As of this writing, my blog has had over 144,000 page views from all over the world.  Mostly it averages around 1,000 page views a month, but occasionally I have months where the views are 2,000 or 5,000 and one month over 12,000.  I am pleased to share my writing with so many people.

For my "Happy New Year" 2024 post, I chose to explore Encarnación Pinedo's recipe for Catalan Horchata (page 123).

My Translation

My Redaction

Making the full recipe that uses a quart of brandy was too much for my guest taster and me, so I reduced the recipe to 1/4 her suggestions, thus making the amount I want.  : )

1 cup brandy

2 egg yolks

4 tablespoons brown sugar

1/8 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon orange flower water

2 ounces ground almonds

Put the brandy into a small saucepan.  Beat the yolks thoroughly.

Begin heating the brandy over a very low fire.  Slowly drizzle the beaten yolks into the brandy, beating vigorously with a fork the entire time.  The yolks cook and the mixture looks like egg drop soup, but because of the beating, the strands of yolk are very small and fine.  

Once all the yolks are in, add the brown sugar, cinnamon, orange flower water, and almonds.  Stir well.  

I let it sit without any heat for about 5 minutes to start infusing the almonds into the hot liquid.  But I noticed the brandy wasn't very hot at all, so I returned the pan to low heat to warm it, stirring often, until it started to simmer.  

I tasted it with the ground almonds in it and was not happy having to deal with them as part of the beverage.  So I strained them out.  

There was enough to make two servings of about 3 to 4 ounces each.

Yolks before beating

Beaten yolks

Pour a very thin stream of yolks slowly into the pan.

While beating continuously with a fork

The look with all the yolks incorporated.

And with everything mixed in.

The strained mixture to drink.

The Verdict

It was warm, sort of.  Straining out the almonds took time so the drink cooled in the process.  But oh, it was definitely warming!  

It had a good mouthfeel -- thicker than just brandy.  My guest taster said it had body.  The flavors were bold:  we could taste the cinnamon, the sweetness, the brandy, and (with contemplation) the almonds.  I think the orange flower water was there, but it didn't stand out.  That was acceptable.

It was creamy and had the brandy kick without being too strong.  An alcoholic dessert, really, in the same category with hot buttered rum.  We were both pleasantly relaxed after sipping our share.  A little goes a long way with this!

I think this is a good beverage to serve on a cold winter's night, on New Year's Eve, or at a gathering of good friends.  I recommend it to those who enjoy the stronger spirits.

Success!

But wait, there's more!  When I was translating Miss Pinedo's book, I did some reading about horchatas, which are not typically alcoholic beverages, and discovered that this recipe is more like an horchata-inspired version of an old beverage called a brandy flip, an ale flip, or a "Yard of Flannel." 

I needed to explore flip recipes to learn more about them.  Considering the amount of alcohol involved, I tried one recipe a day.

The earliest reference I found was about Thomas Jefferson (so late 1700s to early 1800s) and his "Yard of Flannel", found in The Early American Cookbook, page 36:

This recipe is given in more detail in William Kitchiner's The Cook's Oracle.  It's first edition was published in 1817 and went through at least seven editions through 1830.  

This was the recipe I tried next.  Again, I reduced the amounts to one-fourth.

1 cup ale

1 egg

1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1/4 cup brandy

For a Yard of Flannel

The ale went into a saucepan and was heated.  The brandy, sugar, egg, and ginger went into another container where they were mixed vigorously with a fork until the egg was fully blended -- I couldn't see any white or yolk floating in the brandy.

It didn't take long for the ale to start boiling, although it was hard to tell if what I was seeing was boiling or just fizzing.  It was important to look for steam.  I put the ale into another container.  

I followed the usual technique for mixing a hot liquid into beaten eggs and not making scrambled eggs:  I put a little hot liquid into the eggs, swirled the mixture to warm the eggs, then poured in more hot liquid, swirling it to keep mixing.  That worked.  Once I had the two together, I kept pouring them back and forth between the containers until I thought they were "smooth."

You can see it was foamy.

The final result looked like this:

Does this look like flannel?

The Verdict

It was fruity, lightly spiced, lightly sweet, and had a thinner mouthfeel than the first recipe.  The ginger was not dominant.  My guest taster and I both liked it, although we disagreed on one aspect.  I felt it needed more sugar and he thought it was just right.  I wanted it to have a more syrupy mouthfeel (I was not aiming for sweeter, honest!).  Perhaps a second egg instead of more sugar would have accomplished that.

It wasn't very warm, so I warmed some of it again over the stove.  I noticed some small chunks of egg appeared, although the flavor didn't change and it didn't stay hot for long.  I don't think it was worth doing.

In comparing the two recipes, this one was my guest taster's preference.  It was not as strongly alcoholic and, I thought, not as robust in its presentation.  I liked both recipes, and I would choose between them based on the situation I was addressing or what I felt like having at the time.

We were curious about how the egg, sugar, spice, and brandy changed the flavor and look of the ale, so we taste-tested them to compare.

Flip on the left, ale on the right

You can see that the flip is darker, creamier, and foamy.  The ale itself was a little bitter but the flip was not at all.  We both preferred the flip over the ale.

Success again!

I found another version of the Yard of Flannel that allowed for no brandy (or rum) being added.  It was in Ziemann and Gillette's 1903 version of The White House Cookbook, on pages 446-7.

I thought it interesting that they suggested adding butter (which I think would improve the mouthfeel) and to serve it with dry toast.  I did not try this recipe, but I did put butter into another recipe (see below).

Something I had seen in a variety of sources suggested that originally the flip was heated with an iron rod (a "flip dog" or "loggerhead") that was heated in the fire, plunged into the mixture, and stirred until the beverage was hot and foaming.  From there, the technique changed to heating the ale on the fire and then pouring the liquids between two pitchers to mix.  The modern recipes for flips don't heat them at all -- they still use an egg but it is served cold.

An example is this entry from the Food Lover's Companion, on page 238.

I wanted to explore the idea of heating the flip with a hot iron.  I chose to repeat the second recipe for this but used 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg instead of ginger.  I mixed all the ingredients together, including the eggs, until they looked smooth.  

I used my hand-forged skewer and heated it to red-hot in my most convenient fire:  my stove top!

Not quite a fireplace, but it meets the need.

The challenge was to stir the liquid well despite there not being very much of it to work with.  

My first attempt was with Kitchiner's recipe, using nutmeg instead of ginger.  I mixed all the ingredients together in one pitcher, making sure the egg was well-incorporated.  The iron was red hot but when I plunged it into the liquid and the mixture hissed and steamed a little.  However, it did not heat the liquid much at all.  I reheated the iron and tried again, several times, but I did not get much of a change.

We tasted it -- it was much like what we had before but not hot and I didn't feel the egg was cooked.  So I heated it on the stove until it was steaming.  We both liked it with the nutmeg as much as we liked it with the ginger, so our choice was to pick the one we felt like having if we made it again.  

I still wanted more body to it, so after drinking about half of it, I added about 1/2 teaspoon of butter to each mug, stirring it well.  The butter definitely improved the body, and my guest taster thought it was fine.  I liked it but it was not what I wanted.  

It was then I realized I made a big mistake:  the ale was cold right out of the refrigerator, which made it a challenge for the iron to get it hot.  We decided to try again the next night, and I left the ale out to come to room temperature.

This time I used Kitchiner's recipe but modified with the inspiration of The Gentleman's Companion, page 52.  Notice the subtitle of this book, "Being an exotic drinking book or, Around the world with jigger, beaker, and flask."  This is funny!  Mr. Baker was quite serious about his drinking skills.

The inspiration was to mix the spices (I used 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon and ginger mixed together) and to use dried lemon zest, which Kitchiner also suggested.  I also increased the amount of sugar to 4 tablespoons.

Alas, starting with room temperature ale did not change the outcome of the experiment.  The liquid did not get hot, even after several attempts with a hot iron, so I heated it on the stove while stirring vigorously with a fork until it was very steaming hot.

We enjoyed it!  The lemon was too strong for me, but my guest taster thought it was fine.  I wanted some lemon, just less.  I particularly liked the cinnamon and ginger mix.  The mixture had more body (I was right about adding more sugar!) although none had as much as Pinedo's recipe.  Perhaps another egg or just a yolk would have done it.  

It wasn't too sweet, and it had a lovely flavor with just the right amount of alcoholic bite.  My guest taster thought that was his favorite mixture.  Mine was the Pinedo recipe because of the flavors and the mouthfeel, although I wished it had less alcohol in it.  Heating it longer could take care of that problem.

At this point we had tried flips five times in four days, and we were seriously done with drinking brandy and ale for a while.  Not that we regretted it!  It was just more drinking than we were used to.

Regarding heating with an iron:  I suspect that I needed to have more liquid and a thicker iron that could get very hot and stay that way for a while.  I can see why the heating and mixing process changed -- using a saucepan was much more reliable for heating, then mixing between two pitchers allowed the frothing that was so desired.  

Just to wrap up the survey of flips, I wanted to share a version from Lobscouse & Spotted Dog, page 114, which suggests using sherry instead of ale and does not suggest brandy at all.  We did not try this.

As an added bonus, I redid a recipe from this blog to keep from being wasteful...

I used the strained out almonds from the horchata recipe to make emeles, a fried medieval cookie.  I added the leftover egg whites and enough dried bread crumbs to make a dough that was reasonably thick and stuck to itself.  I heated oil and dropped in spoonfuls of dough, flattening each cookie, and frying it on both sides until golden brown.  As they drained on a paper towel, I sprinkled them with cinnamon sugar.  They look just like pork sausage patties!  But the brandy kick came through along with the cinnamon and almond flavors.  Click here for the original post on emeles.

Not sausage patties!

What a way to wrap up the old year and prepare for the new!  I wish you all a wonderful 2024 filled with good food and friends.

Cheers!

A Lemon Cordial - with milk

I was perusing a book in my collection that caught my attention (again) because it had nothing printed on the spine.  But it did have print on the front cover and that was A Book of Cookery.  It is an intriguing book because the author, Kimberly K. Walters, does historical reenactment, and she compiled these recipes from a variety of historical sources to aid her reenactment work.

ISBN 978-0-692-26980-0

Her focus is the 18th century, the American Revolutionary War, and George Washington, but she notes in the "Forword" that she sometimes took from sources just before and after that time when she felt it was appropriate.  

The book contains more than just recipes, which she properly calls "receipts."  It also offers information on how to choose good food items, lists of what items are in season "in the colonies", a detailed description of how and what to serve for dinner courses ("removes"), how the table is to be set, and descriptions of cooking equipment.

As someone who has experience in historical cooking reenactment, I would judge this book to be quite valuable to anyone who wants to learn how to be a Colonial American cooking reenactor.  All you would have to add is equipment, costuming, and a location in which to cook.  

I had fun reading through the recipes.  My goal was to find one that used lemons because my neighbor had left a bag full of them on my doorstep.  There were several recipes that I considered, especially the Lemon Gingerbread on page 190, but I decided to try the Lemon Cordial on page 260.  I have made many cordials and liqueurs before but never one that had milk in it.  I wanted to see what it was like.

Lemon Cordial

Cut six fresh lemons in thin slices, put them into a quart and a half of milk, boil it until the whey is very clear, then pass it through a sieve; put to this whey, one and a half quarts of French brandy, and three pounds of powdered loaf sugar; stir it till the sugar is dissolved - let it stand to refine, and bottle it; pare some of the yellow rind of the lemons very thin, and put a little in each bottle. (Randolph).

My Notes

I decided to scale the recipe down a little.  "A quart and a half" is 6 cups, so the proportions for 2/3 of the amounts are pretty straightforward:

4 lemons (washed!)

4 cups milk

4 cups brandy

2 pounds powdered sugar

After the lemons were sliced and the milk was added, I turned the heat onto high to get the cooking going.  

I notice the curdling started right away.  This is a good thing!  It is how you get the curds and whey.

You can see the curds forming.

Once I saw some bubbles forming in the milk, I turned the heat to medium low.  

And this is where I started running into trouble.  You see, I have made curds and whey before with milk and vinegar (click here to see the post), so I expected the curds to be big and to clearly see the whey.

But that didn't happen here.  I let the mixture simmer for quite a while (a few hours!) and never saw the whey separate as I expected.  After the lemons looked very cooked, I turned the heat off and thought about what to do.

The lemons have gone limp. 

The curds were all tiny.  There was whey but everything was mixed.  I decided to pass it through a strainer lined with cheesecloth, but I was not confident this would work.

And it didn't.  Very little liquid came through; it all looked like it was still captured in the curds and lemon.

Then I decided to use some more fresh milk (1 cup) to rinse the curds off of the lemon slices, with hope I could get all that to sieve out.  I used my hands to gently squeeze the slices and to wipe the curds off of them.  This got the curds off the lemons but it still would not get the moisture out of the curds.  I had a thick, creamy liquid now.  I threw away the lemon slices.

At this point I thought that I would just have to expect a creamy, curdy cordial.  Maybe that would taste good?  So I added the powdered sugar and the brandy, mixing well.

This is a one-half gallon container

I tasted it and it was good!  But I didn't think this was supposed to be the desired result.  The container sat on the counter overnight.  The next day I saw that the curds had begun to settle -- and it was forming layers of what looked like curds in liquid at the bottom, liquid alone in the middle, and a foam on the top.  It made me think of syllabub.  I was not happy with this.

Then it occurred to me.  I should strain it through a cloth bag!  This is what I did when I made liquamen and it worked well to remove very fine particles.  Why did this take so long for me to consider?

Straining it through the bag worked really well.  The liquid was clear!

Unfiltered on the left.  Filtered on the right.

It took two days to let it all filter through.  Patience is a virtue here.  I felt confident that I was getting all the cordial through the bag.  In the end, I had just a little under 1/2 gallon of cordial.

The Verdict

The flavor was a lovely blend of lemon and brandy.  It did not strike my taste buds hard with lemon and it did not taste entirely of lemon.  It was definitely a blend.  The mouthfeel was good - enough of a syrupy texture to make me feel like I was sipping something substantial.  My guest taster and I both liked it very much and would love to have it either before or after a meal, or to go with some cheese and fruit as part of a dessert.

When I made curds and whey previously, I warmed up the milk before I added the acid for curdling.  Perhaps I should have done that here.

I should have filtered just the curds and whey through the bag before adding the sugar and brandy.  I think it would have gone faster as it wouldn't have been as thick. 

I did throw off the proportions a little by using the one extra cup of milk to rinse the lemons.  I think it curdled a little.  I doubt it affected the taste much.

I honestly don't know why the milk was important.  When I made lemon liqueur previously, I just soaked lemon peels in vodka for a few months, strained them out, and added sugar.  This worked just fine and the soaked peels were saved as zest for cooking.  

Of course this cordial took only a few days and it was ready for drinking right away.  I suspect it will improve with aging, which tends to smooth the flavors out.  I guess that the whey might add some thickness or improve the mouthfeel of the finished product.  This is all guesswork!

I call it a success.  I have enough to last a while so it will continue to age in the cupboard.  I need to add some lemon zest to it as per the recipe's recommendation.

Just so you know, "cordial" and "liqueur" are often used interchangeably.  They are both typically vodka or brandy infused with flavors, and sweetened.  Cordials are sometimes considered to be sweeter than a standard liqueur.  This was definitely sweet but not overwhelmingly so.

Custard, Again. Baked and with Eggs (intentionally)

Whew!  July was a busy month and I barely got to cook, much less cook for my blog.

My experience with eggless custards and the nifty book, American Cookery by Amelia Simmons,

ISBN-13:  978-1-4494-2313-1

made me want to try one of her egged custards.

Reference Custard #2

How would unbaked be different from baked?  Eggless from egged?  I had to try.  (Besides, the weather has been very hot and I have learned that custards are an excellent dessert:  cool, light, not too sweet, and excellent with berries.  Refreshing!)

My Redaction

1 quart whole milk

2 tablespoons sugar

6 eggs, beaten

1 tablespoon brandy

1 tablespoon moscato wine (sweet)

1/2 tablespoon rose water

generous grating of nutmeg

I like the dramatic look of this picture.

All ingredients were mixed well.  The nutmeg tends to float on top; I don't know how to change that.

The custard mix was ladled into small glass and ceramic bowls.  Each one held about 4 ounces of the mix even if the bowl could have held more.  

The oven was preheated to 300 degrees Fahrenheit.

I placed the bowls in a deep pan, placed the pan on the oven rack, then poured hot water into the pan until the water level was close to even with the custard mix level.

Pre-water.  It is easier to move into the oven that way.

Post-baking

The custards were baked for 30 minutes.  That is when a knife blade dipped into the center of a custard came out clean.  Visually the custard was "jiggly" and a little puffy.

Dipping in the knife

The blade is clean

The pan was carefully removed (no hot water spills!) and set out to cool a little.  Then I used a spatula to lift the bowls from the water.  They went right into the refrigerator without any covering.

The Verdict

After chilling them for a few hours, I served the custard.  It was firm, smooth, and pleasant to look at.  The berries sat on top instead of sinking in (as they did for the unbaked custards).  

A spoonful shows how well the custard set up:  you can see an edge on it.

The texture was smooth, creamy, soft, delicate.  

The flavor was not at all what I expected.  I loved the custard taste and feel but I could not taste the brandy or the wine and only tasted a little of the nutmeg.  It mostly tasted like rosewater.  

I love rosewater but that was not the only flavor I wanted.  I also love the brandy and nutmeg flavor combination so I was disappointed.  I don't mind I didn't taste the wine and perhaps next time I would make it a little sweeter.  However I would use less rosewater and much more brandy and nutmeg!

Vanilla would be good, too.

There were enough bowls of custard that I tried it in different ways.  My favorite was for breakfast with some buttered, spiced crumbs on top along with a little fruit. 

This was a success.  I would just change the flavorings to suit my preferences.  Yum!

Eggless, No-Bake Custard -- Again and Again

Previously I attempted to make a custard that had no eggs and that could be made on the stovetop.  While that didn't quite work out, I did manage to save the food and make a good dessert.  See the recipe here:  Eggless, No-Bake Custard, A Tasty Failure.

Undaunted, I tried again.  Twice.  Here's what happened.

In the very first attempt I used heavy whipping cream and did not see any of the required curdling.  My Internet reading suggested that a better choice would be half-and-half because less cream would allow more curdling opportunities.

Let me note here that the first attempt did look a bit grainy, which I suspect was curdling.  It never got thick, which I think was because I put in too much wine.

So for attempt number two I used half-and-half.  I used the same amount of sugar (2 tablespoons), the same wine, and just a little more of the spices.



I definitely saw curdling but it didn't get very thick at all.  Again, I think I put in too much wine even though I used less than in the first attempt.

Curds!

I expected bigger curds, like I saw when I made Green Cheese.  However this is good because the little curds contributed very little to the texture.

It was served in a bowl garnished with a few berries.  It was thin enough that the berries sank!



Overall it was tasty and I would call it a success.  Creamy and slightly sweet.  The spice flavors came through and were pleasant.   Light, cool, and refreshing; just right for a hot day.

When the custard sat in the refrigerator for a few hours, it separated.  The curds on top were thicker and still tasty.  The liquid below tasted like thin wine with a bit of spice.  Not bad but not exciting.  I suppose I could put it in oatmeal or bread for flavor.

One guest taster suggested that the berries become the main part of the dessert and the custard become the topping.  This gave me a focus for the third attempt.

So one more try!  Honest!  I had to call it "Custard's Last Stand" to convince my family there would be no more attempts.  (They groaned.)

I used all the same ingredients as before except I forgot to add the spices at the end.  I measured the wine, putting in one tablespoon at a time, until I saw curdling.  It took 7 tablespoons to accomplish what I thought was a decent amount of curdling.

And then...

And then I was called away to take care of something and completely forgot that the custard was sitting on the stove on the (thankfully) very lowest heat.  I don't know how long it sat there.  When I found it, I hurriedly stirred it, put it in a bowl, and popped into the refrigerator, crossing my fingers that it wasn't ruined.

It wasn't!

In fact, it was excellent:  thick and creamy and flavorful with very little separation.  Certainly not the "curds and liquid" layers from attempt number two.  Really just a thicker part on top and a thinner part (both with curds) on the bottom.  The curds were bigger but still not a texture issue.

The missing spices were not missed.  I used the custard as a topping on a mixture of strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries.

Yummy!

The second time I served it I added a mixture of breadcrumbs that had been mixed with butter and spices.  Actually it was the same mixture that I use to press into a pan as a crust for a tart, just not baked.  That added a nice crunch and a very light touch of cinnamon.  Note that I just sprinkled a few finger-fulls on top of the custard.

The berries were sweet and a little tart.  The custard was creamy, a little sweet, and a little tart from the wine.  The crunchy topping was, well, crunchy to offset the creamy and bring the flavors all together.

An unqualified success!

We had the same dessert several nights in a row and thoroughly enjoyed it each time.  Very refreshing.