Showing posts with label 20th century. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 20th century. Show all posts

Thursday, May 1, 2025

Persimmon Jam, yet another persimmon recipe (1940s)

I know, I know!  You are thinking, "ANOTHER persimmon recipe??"  Did I mention I had a lot of persimmons?  And, well, The California Cook Book also had a recipe for persimmon jam.  (See the February 1 and March 1 posts for the other persimmon recipes.)

Found on Archive.org.
Mine are Fuyu persimmons, which means they are not astringent if not fully ripe, unlike the Hachiya variety I learned to eat first.  You can eat them when they are crisp-firm like an apple or softer or (my favorite) so soft they are like eating pudding.  That is when they are the sweetest.  

Pages 319 - 320
Ms. Callahan said the persimmons for her jam need to be as soft as jelly, and so I saved a bunch of the very soft ones just for this recipe.  They didn't all get soft at the same time, so I kept them in the refrigerator while waiting for enough to make the recipe.  Some were much riper than others.

My Redaction with Notes

2 cups persimmon pulp from very ripe persimmons

2 cups sugar

I used a few more persimmons than what you see here to get 2 cups.

My persimmons were so ripe that cutting them up was not an option.  I broke open the skin and used a spoon to scoop out the pulp.  Remove the seeds as needed -- not all persimmons have seeds, but some do.  I did not include the skin.

Instead of pushing the pulp through a sieve, I used a stick blender to puree it.

I chose to use a double boiler and set the water level so it went up the sides of the insert.  

After I mixed the pulp and the sugar, I put the insert into the double boiler for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, while the pulp got to "simmer" temperature.  I noticed it steamed a little at that time and a few bubbles formed along the edge of the mixture.

The clean jars were filled with water and heated in the microwave for 10 minutes to help sterilize them.  I was not intending to fully can the jam, just get it in very clean jars to store in the refrigerator.

Then I set the timer for 20 minutes and stirred the mixture continuously while it cooked.  I noticed it got thicker as the time went on. 

I ladled the jam into the empty, hot jars, put on the lids, then put them into the refrigerator.

Two cups pulp.

Pureed.

See the bubbles?  I call that "simmering."


Inside the blue circle you can see a little pile-up of jam.  Thicker!

Three jars like this and a little extra.
The Verdict

I managed to keep the mixture from boiling and noticed that the maximum temperature was 175 degrees F.  So I had hoped for no bitterness.

The jam was beautifully thick; just right I would say, for spreading (or even eating off the spoon).

Beautiful!

The flavor was fascinating.  I know it was just persimmons and sugar, but I would swear it tasted like it had spices in it, like cinnamon and ginger or allspice.  I got the persimmon flavor and the sweetness, but it wasn't too sweet, which surprised me.  And no bitterness!  

The texture was intriguing, too.  It was pretty smooth, which is probably because I pureed the pulp.  It also had a slight gelatinous quality to it.  Not in an off-putting way.  I'm not sure what caused that.

So success!  

When I was first contemplating the recipe, I thought I would probably want to add spices to it, but I know now it is not necessary.  The only adaptation I might make would be to add a little lime juice to the jam once it was cooked and before it went into the jars.  Just a thought, anyway.



Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Fluffy Fruit Dressing, AKA Women's Club Fruit Dressing (1940s)

In the two previous posts I wrote about Genevieve Callahan's The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor EatingClick here to see the post with the dressing in it.

Found on archive.org.  An amazing source!

She mentioned a "Fluffy Fruit Dressing" several times but does not have a recipe specifically named that.  One clue she left was that it was in the dressing section, so after reading all the recipes carefully, I concluded that what she really meant was the "Women's Club Fruit Dressing." (Pages 38-39) It is a cooked, flavored dressing that is blended with whipped cream just before serving, thus "fluffy".  

To be fair, it could also be the recipe above it, "Old Fashioned Cooked Dressing" because it, too, is mixed with whipped cream when used with fruit salads.  But its main flavors are vinegar, mustard, and celery seed whereas the Women's Club dressing's flavors were mainly currant and lemon.

This seemed just right to go with the persimmon and pineapple salad.  And, as you saw in the previous post, it was!



My Notes

I could not find currant jelly at the store, but I did buy a jar of currant preserves -- currants in a sweetened syrup.  So I drained the syrup off the fruit by pressing it through a sieve and used 1/2 cup of the syrup.  I did not need to melt it because it was already liquid.

I think it is better to beat the egg whites with the salt and sugar before cooking the lemon, sugar, and yolks mixture.  That way you don't overcook the mixture while beating the whites and it is still hot when the whites are mixed in.

The yolk mixture never got thick while cooking, but it did thicken, so I call that a win.  After it chilled, it was thick.  

I used 1 1/4 cups heavy whipping cream that was, after beating, mixed with most of the cooked dressing.

The cooked dressing ingredients
With the currant syrup.

Folding in the egg whites.
              
Cooking is done.
The finished product.


The Verdict

Yes, this was good.  It was acidic from the lemon, flavorful from the lemon and currant, not too sweet, and the fluffy part was a nice complement to the persimmon and pineapple gelatin salad.

Everyone particularly liked the currant flavor, although most said they never had it before.  It adds a deep fruity flavor that balanced out the other flavors of the dish.

I wonder how it would taste if frozen like ice cream.  I think it would be a good topping on a vanilla cake or angel food cake, too.  Honestly, it was good just eaten off the spoon!

Success!  

Saturday, March 1, 2025

Another Persimmon Salad from the 1940s

Did I happen to mention that I have a lot of persimmons in my kitchen?  And that I have an interest in exploring what California cuisine meant in the 1940s?

The first recipe I posted using persimmons and relating to California cuisine was a persimmon salad that was so basic:  whole, peeled persimmons embedded in lemon gelatin.  That's it!  It was tasty and light, so it was a success.  You can see the post by clicking here:  Persimmon Salad from the 1940s.

Today's post is from the same book, The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating by Genevieve Callahan.

For Indoor and Outdoor Eating
On pages 42 - 43, she offered another version, this one more elaborate.

Jellied Persimmon Salad

3 large, very ripe persimmons
20 ounce can crushed pineapple
3 ounce box lemon-flavored gelatin
dash salt
"Fluffy fruit dressing"*

Those persimmons are as soft as pudding.
Choose a container to act as a mold for the salad.  It needs to hold at least 4 cups volume.  Lightly spray it with non-stick cooking spray and then wipe out the excess.  

Open can of pineapple, pour into a colander over a bowl so the fruit drains and you save the liquid.

Pull off and discard the tops of the persimmons then use a spoon and your fingers to start peeling.  At a certain point it becomes easier to just scoop the pulp out of the skin.

Put pulp in a bowl and mash thoroughly with a potato masher.  Remove and discard any seeds.

Mix in 1 cup crushed pineapple.  Cover and put in the refrigerator.

Add enough water to the pineapple juice to make 1 1/2 cups.   

Heat in the microwave for 2 to 2 1/2 minutes or until boiling.  Alternatively, heat on the stove.

Add the gelatin and stir vigorously until it is clear or mostly so.

Put the gelatin in the refrigerator.  Cool until slightly thickened.

Add a dash of salt and fold in the fruit.

Pour into the mold, shake or tap to level it and remove any air bubbles.

Refrigerate until solid.

Serve as suggested by Ms. Callahan.

*Fluffy fruit dressing recipe will be in the next post.

My Notes

I didn't have three large persimmons, so I used 1 large and four small.  They were very ripe, dark orange and squishy to the touch.

My pineapple came in juice, not syrup, but I didn't worry about have less sugar in the dish.  There was precisely 1 cup liquid.

I chilled the gelatin in a glass measuring cup for 1 hour, 45 minutes, which was too long.  It wasn't "slightly thickened," it was thick but not fully set.  I crossed my fingers and proceeded with the recipe anyway.

My main concern was that the gelatin with all the fruit in it would not set up all the way, or at all.  All I could do was hope.

The mold chilled overnight.  When I took the salad out of the mold, I rubbed the mold all over with a hot, damp cloth to loosen the gelatin.

Persimmon pulp, crushed pineapple, and liquid gelatin.
Chilled!
The Verdict

I took it to a friendly barbeque gathering and presented it as a salad.  People were surprised that it wasn't a dessert, but I emphasized that the cookbook author claimed it was a salad and that it wasn't very sweet.

One person was somewhat skeptical about eating it at all, claiming that having grown up in the midwest, his experience with gelatin-based dishes was not very positive.  But he was willing to try it.

I did not serve it on a bed of lettuce, as Ms. Callahan suggested.  I simply tipped the mold out onto a plate and put a big spoonful of the fluffy fruit dressing in the middle.  The rest of the dressing was served on the table so people could choose to add more as they liked.

My first reaction was that it was pretty.  The gelatin was orange from the persimmons.  The visual texture was nice, too, as the crushed pineapple was lighter in color than the persimmon pulp in contrast and the pieces of fruit gave depth to the presentation.  Also, the dressing was a soft pink color, which looked good with the gelatin.

Out of the mold and with the dressing.  Extra dressing in the upper right corner.

As for the taste, I liked it!  Even better than the previous persimmon salad.  It was more complex in flavor, had an interesting texture while chewing, and, as several guests said, "it was balanced."  It was not too sweet and the lemon-persimmon-pineapple flavors worked well together.  The dressing was tart with the flavors of currant and lemon, which is what everyone thought made the entire combination balanced.  Not sweet but sweet-and-tart.  The fluffy dressing contrasted well with the more solid gelatin.

Several people wanted me to mention that they took a second serving, and that was a compliment.  

As for my midwest skeptic?  He tried it and liked it!  He said that the balance of flavors and the way all the parts came together made him realize what the gelatin dishes of his childhood should have been like.  

My only complaint is that the gelatin was too soft.  That could be because the gathering was outside and it was sunny, but it slumped as time went on and the leftovers never firmed up again, even after being refrigerated.  I also wonder if I waited too long to mix in the fruit and salt.  I think that there was enough liquid between the pineapple juice and water and persimmon pulp that it may have needed more gelatin.  A small boost from a packet of unflavored gelatin would have worked, as well as using a larger box of flavored gelatin.

Ms. Callahan notes elsewhere in the book that the pinch of salt gives two advantages:  it helps to set the gelatin and it brings out the flavors in the dish.  I guess it worked because my guest tasters liked it!

Success!

See the next post for the recipe for the "Fluffy Fruit Dressing", which is a recipe called the "Women's Club Fruit Dressing."


 

Saturday, February 1, 2025

A Persimmon Salad from the 1940s

I have lived in California all my life, so it is easy for me to take the abundance we have for granted.  While I have traveled around the United States and in a few other countries, I don't always recognize that the climate we have is different in a wonderful kind of way.  Where I live, we have a mild climate year-round with the opportunity to grow a variety of fruits, nuts, and vegetables.  

That got me wondering, "What exactly IS California cuisine?"  Sure, I can look around me now and see all the current influences, but what fun is that?  I wanted to know what made California cuisine distinct in prior decades.  Then I recalled that there was a big influx of people arriving in the first half of the 20th century, including my ancestors, who arrived in the 1930s and 1940s.

This website, California Migration History 1850-2022, offers clickable tabs on a chart showing the birthplaces of California residents to compare to the total population of the state.  For example, 1900 shows a population of  1.4 million with about 650,000 born in California, about 50%.  1910 and 1920 show about 37% born in CA, 1930 about 34%, 1940 and 1950 about 36%.  In other words, two-thirds of the population weren't born in the state!  During this time the population of California grew to 10.8 million (1950).

I looked for a cookbook that captured the cuisine of that time period, and I found The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating by Genevieve Callahan.  

For Indoor and Outdoor Eating
One aspect that makes California cuisine distinct, she pointed out, is the use of "Strange Fruits in Salads" (page 17).  In particular, in Southern California, subtropical fruits can be grown "as ornamentals."  She noted it is worth watching the local markets to get items such as mangos, papayas, guavas, cherimoyas, feijoas, passionfruits, white sapotas, kumquats, loquats, pomegranates, and persimmons.

It is persimmon season in my area and I have an abundance of them in my kitchen, thanks to a colleague whose trees "produce hundreds" and a local homeowner who sells them from his garage at an excellent price.

Ms. Callahan gave several recipes that use persimmons in salads, some in ways unusual to me.  

However, the first one I tried was so very basic:  lemon-flavored gelatin with whole persimmons embedded in it.  What attracted me to it was that she stated on page 26,

The Mission Inn Hotel and Spa is an iconic Riverside location.  It started as an adobe boarding house in 1876 and then became a full-service hotel in the early 1900s.  By the 1940s and early 1950s, it was a "place to be" because famous people stayed there, such as Albert Einstein, Booker T. Washington, Helen Keller, Clark Gable, and a variety of U. S. presidents.  But it later closed and became rundown and was almost demolished until purchased by the current owners in the 1980s who renovated it.  It has returned to being a beautiful location to stay, dine, and enjoy the spa.

I didn't want a "large ring mold" for two people to consume, but I do have some small gelatin molds that were deep enough to hold a small, peeled persimmon.  I wanted to see the persimmons "glowing" through the gelatin!

Here goes:

3 ounce package lemon-flavored gelatin

1 cup boiling water

1 cup cold water

6 small soft-ish persimmons

6 individual serving gelatin molds

Just add water!
Mix gelatin with the boiling water, stirring until it is dissolved -- the liquid looks clear.

Add the cold water and stir some more.

Pour a thin layer of gelatin into each mold.  Set into the refrigerator to chill until firmly solid (about 10 to 15 minutes).

While they are chilling, cut off the tops and then peel each persimmon.  If you see any seeds, remove those by cutting them out with a knife.  You should have at least one flat side on each persimmon -- note which is the most attractive side.

Remove the molds from the refrigerator.  Put one persimmon into each cup, setting the attractive side down on the gelatin and centering it in the mold.  Using a fork made it easy to control.

Pour the rest of the liquid gelatin into the molds, covering the persimmon with at least a very thin layer (if possible!).

Set molds back into the refrigerator and chill until solid.

To serve, put some very warm water into a shallow bowl.  Dip the molds in one at a time, without getting water onto the gelatin, leaving it very briefly.  Just enough to soften the sides of the gelatin.

Turn the mold over onto a plate to serve.

A thin layer to ensure the persimmon is enclosed.

I peeled extra, just in case.

The fork pokes into the "down" side.

The mold is full and the fruit is almost covered.

My Notes

My molds hold about 1/2 cup liquid each.  Once I added the persimmons, I ended up with 5 completely filled molds and several extra with just the bottom layers.  So let's say to plan for 6 molds.

Putting the molds in a small cake pan made it easy to transfer to/from the refrigerator.

The fork was poked into the non-attractive side of the persimmon, which allowed me to place it carefully on the gelatin and center it.  My fingers stayed out of the way.

It took over an hour for the gelatin in the filled molds to feel solid.  I let them chill much longer before I served them.

The Verdict

It was good!  I mean, for all that it was just lemon gelatin and persimmon, it was a light, refreshing salad.  The persimmon flavor goes well with the lemon, so that was a good pairing.

My guest taster thought it was fine.  Not earth-shattering as a recipe goes, but fine enough.

Did the persimmon glow through the gelatin?  You be the judge:

Pretty!
The persimmon was soft enough that it was easily cut with a knife, and the gelatin was firm enough that it held its shape after cutting.

As for presentation, I would probably serve this on a bed of dark green lettuce or spinach greens if for a salad.  It would also be good as a light dessert, especially if a cookie (thin, crisp) was with it.  

To be honest, I had some for breakfast the next day, which was tasty, too.

Success!

I doubt you will ever find the Mission Inn serving this again.  It was fun to find out that they did.


Friday, November 15, 2024

Eggs Baked in Whole Tomatoes -- a recipe from the The Egg Basket of the World

In 1879 Lyman Byce and Isaac Dias invented the first reliably working incubator for hatching eggs in Petaluma, California.  This sparked the creation of egg ranches in the area and, by 1917, Petaluma was considered the "undisputed" world leader of the chicken and egg industry.

The town embraced this and unabashedly promoted itself and its industry as "The Egg Basket of the World", offering a National Egg Day which included a parade with an Egg Queen and her court of attendant chicks, and decorating the town with giant plaster egg baskets and roosters.  In 1918, Petaluma reported producing 16 million dozen eggs.

In 1927, the Petaluma High School Parent-Teacher Association (PTA) published The Egg Basket Cook Book to help finance the PTA activities as well as promote the industry and share their egg-cooking knowledge.

The book is basically what I call a "ladies' group" cookbook because most (if not all) the recipes were submitted by Petaluma locals.  I value these recipes because no one is going to submit a recipe that they think is subpar, knowing their neighbors might try them.  The recipes are tried and true.

I chose the "Eggs Baked in Whole Tomatoes" recipe in the "From the Egg Basket" section on page 27.  This section also addresses the food value of eggs and methods of cooking them.  What is amusing about the entire book is that no recipe has "eggs" in them -- the word is always written as "EGGS".

Eggs Baked in Whole Tomatoes  -- M.P.

3 tomatoes

3 EGGS

salt and pepper

3 tablespoons buttered crumbs

3 slices of bacon

Breakfast!
Scoop out centers of large ripe tomatoes.  Break an EGG into each, season and cover with crumbs and lay a slice of bacon on each.  Bake in a moderate oven.  Turn bacon once while cooking.  Place under broiler to brown bacon.

My Notes

I noticed the pattern of one egg and one slice of bacon per tomato.  I only needed two servings, so I reduced everything down to enough for two.

The oven was set to 350 degrees F.  

I sliced the top of the tomatoes off with a knife then used a spoon to scoop out the centers.

Each tomato was set in a glass baking dish before I put the egg inside.

I didn't bother with buttered crumbs as I figured the bacon would drop grease onto them.  I cut the bacon slice in half and put the pieces as an "X" over the top.

I baked the tomatoes for 25 minutes.  See comments below.

Halfway through.  Time to turn the bacon.
Done. (Almost)

The Verdict

I served it with toast and juice.

A tidy breakfast.
Twenty-five mintues was not enough time.  The tomato was somewhat cooked, but the egg was raw.  

So I tried again, turning the temperature down to 325 degrees and cooking for 45 minutes.  The tomatoes were cooked through (skin split and the rest was soft) and the eggs were cooked.  But the yolks were solid, and I really wanted runny yolks.

I kept trying through several attempts.  I kept getting either raw eggs (325 degrees and 35 minutes) or solid yolks.

My observation is that the timing depends on the thickness of the tomato.  If the walls are thin, everything cooks quickly.  Thick walls take more time for the heat to get to the egg.  Don't be fooled by the top of the egg looking cooked!

Success, but it took a while.  The last time I tried it was with thick-walled tomatoes.  They cooked for 45 minutes at 325 degrees.  This gave basically soft-cooked eggs.  The whites were cooked but not hard and the yolks were soft but not runny.  The tomato was cooked through and soft.

I served it in bowls because the tomato released a lot of juice when it was cut.  Tasty!

It is not necessary to turn the bacon.  Just broil it for a minute or two at the end of the cooking cycle and it is done.  (I like chewy bacon.)

A large tomato can be scooped out so much that two eggs will fit inside it.  This takes longer to cook.

Make sure the tomato is shaped to stand upright when the stem end is removed.  Roma tomatoes are not very good for this.

If you want to read more about the history of Petaluma, see this book:

Heig, Adair.  History of Petaluma:  A California River Town.  Scottwall Associates.  Petaluma. 1982,

which you can access online by clicking here:  Heig.


Sunday, September 15, 2024

BBQ Ribs -- a recipe from my family

In the early 1990s, my family put on a big reunion.  It was fun to meet cousins for the first time, to see what my grandfather's generation produced, and to just have a good time with nice people.  I decided I wanted to contribute to our gathering by producing a family cookbook.  A few months in advance I sent out a request for recipes and any stories behind them that anyone wanted to share.  I got a good response!

After sorting and typing them up, I added some cute graphics, an introduction, and a contributors list which documented the relationships we all had to my grandfather's generation.  I could afford to print up and have bound enough copies to share without asking anyone for payment.  I liked that part.  People took them and seemed to enjoy having them.

One recipe was given by my mom, MS, about her dad (my grandfather), BP.  


I loved the comment about the "BBQ/incinerator"!  I enjoyed the graphics of the dark pig and the light pig, thinking that the dark one was the incinerated one.  : )

I decided to try it, but use my propane gas grill instead of a homemade, backyard BBQ pit.

Here is the recipe for easier reading:

BBQ Ribs

2 1/2 to 3 lb pkg. spare ribs
1 tsp. celery seed
1 Tbsp. chili powder
1/2 c. brown sugar
2 tsp. salt or 1 tsp. seasoned salt
1 tsp. paprika

Just add meat!
Mix seasoning thoroughly and rub into both sides of the ribs.  Let stand a minimum of 15 minutes.  Cook over hot coals for 45 minutes to an hour.


My Notes

I had a 2 1/2 pound package of spare ribs.  I chose to use regular salt and chile flakes instead of powder.

Unmixed
Well mixed
After I mixed the seasoning, I rubbed it on both sides and on the edges.  The ribs then sat at room temperature for 30 minutes.  During this time I noticed that the juices were drawn from the meat, dissolving the sugar and salt and creating puddles on the upper surface of the ribs.
Not long after the rub was rubbed in.

After 30 minutes of resting.
I heated my grill for 10 minutes, reaching between 350 and 400 degrees F.  I placed the ribs on the grill rack, using indirect heat, and set the timer for 22 minutes so I could see if they needed turning.

Beee-you-ti-ful!
When the timer went off, I discovered that at some point - I know not when - the grill had run out of propane gas.  Grrrrr.  The meat did not look like it had cooked much.  I had no extra propane on hand, so I put the meat on a pan and put it in the oven at 350 degrees.
Baking is like indirect heat, right?
After 20 minutes, it looked good and it smelled good.  The internal temperature was 170 degrees.  I figured it was cooked enough.

I did broil it for a few minutes on each side to brown it well, being careful not to burn the sugar.
Grilled, baked, and broiled.

The Verdict

I cut the individual ribs from the slab, making sure there was meat on each bone.  Then I served about half of them with some good cole slaw (KFC style!) and sourdough bread.

What I noticed is that the rub had turned into a sauce, which I did not expect.  (I had wondered why the recipe said, "Mother made the sauce".  Now I know!)  It made the meat moist and slightly glazed.

The meat was cooked just right, and was tender and flavorful.  I loved the rub/sauce and how it was slightly sweet as well as a little bit spicy.  I was originally worried about the amount of celery seed because I am not a big fan of that on barbeques, but it was just fine.

I thought including chili powder was a daring thing to do for a family in the midwest during the 1930s and 1940s -- my general impression of that time and place is that spices were not commonly used other than, for example, garlic salt as an alternative to salt and pepper.  I could be quite wrong!  

Daring or not, this is a good recipe.  I would do it again, either baking/broiling or grilling.  Or both, if I run out of propane again.

Success!

The second half of the ribs were also excellent the next day.