Revisiting Resolutions

New Year's Eve, the day on which I traditionally assess my previous year's costuming to-do list and reflect on how it went. This was probably my least productive costuming year yet, worse than 2020 somehow, but let's see how it adds up:

1850sSort undergarments: repair, replace and add laundry markings. The goal is to have:

• 4 Chemises (3 plain, optional 4th embellished) Nope. I think I have two that are wearable, and both are more hole than whole.
• 4 Pairs Drawers, ditto I have three in "wearable but embarrassing" condition
• 1 corded petticoat, 1 quilted These are still functional at least.
• 3 white cotton petticoats (plain or embellished) Technically, but only 1 I like.
• Corset  Actually made this one. It's comfy, though I think I could get better shaping.
• 4 pairs cotton stockings Some number, but I need to dispose of the worn-out pairs.
• All silk and wool stockings in good order. Wool, yes. Some of the silk need to be altered.

Clean and repair outer garments and gowns. The goal is to have:

• 1 work dress and 1 nice dress for cold weather. Work needed.
• 1 work dress and 1 nice dress for warm weather. Time to plan some new gowns...
• Cold and warm weather bonnets, both working and 'nice' versions. Better on the cold than warm...
• Winter coat Procured supplies and cut it out at least.
• Warm-weather wrap Pattern acquired.
• Two aprons Technically, though one's more of a "fine accessory".
• Fine accessories suited to the nice dresses Made a two caps (1856 Morning Cap
  1858 Spotted Muslin Morning Cap), but not the undersleeves and collars I'd intended.

1860s 

Underwear and work clothes as for 1850s. Yeah...

 Hoops fixed up neatly. Nope.

 Sort out bonnets and remake or discard the unusable ones. I should do that one of these days 

Have at least one fashionable early 1860s ensemble assembled. Rather the opposite, I fear.
 

16th century 

Make one more smock (plain or embellished). Nope.

New kirtle. Still waiting on my pre-order of The Typical Tudor.

 Finish the round gown. Mocked-up, but waiting on the kirtle to fit it properly. 

Fit waistcoat better. Also waiting on the kirtle. 

Make a jacket or cassock as an extra outerwear option. Actually a coat, but I did this one! 

Sort out headgear, personal linens. I could get started, but again am waiting on the new book. 

Hem sheets for camping. More linen acquired!
 

18th century

Finish 1780s stays. Actually did this one. And then didn't post it for 5 months. 

Make a pocket. Good idea. 

Make one gown. Also a good idea. 

Make pads to try the hairstyles from the American Duchess book. Materials procured. 

[Maybe make a peignoir for the hairdressing because it'd be fun...] I cut it out, and started piecing it. Miles of ruffle to hem.

Other

Replace Regency/Empire/whatever-you-call-the-high-waisted-early-19th-century-sihlouette petticoat Still need to do. 

Finish the red print Empire gown. Sleeve gusset issues, but this one's been sitting at 90% since late 2019. 

Cotton spencer. Need to get gowns sorted out first. 

Draft pelisse (the one with the greatcoat-style capes). After I work out the spencer fitting issues. 

1870s spoon-busk corset from my custom pattern. Maybe this year? I finally may have some 1870s events on the horizon.

 1900s corset from my custom pattern. It would be nice to get that railway costume started... 

Start on undergarments for early 1900s traveling suit. After the corset.

 Linen tablecloth. Did this one! Never posted it, since it was just some simple hemming. 

 

Draft folder below 50 by the end of the year, particularly finishing the hairdressing posts. Currently at 87, after going back over 100 earlier this year.  

 
Other Completed Projects: 

Hand-plaited Straw Hat 

Straw Ornaments c.1850s 

1930s Silk Slip

 1933 Striped Skirt 

1956 Zigzag cotton dress

 1956 Green silk dress with bolero 

Yoga Pants

Zigzag Dress, c.1956

Cotton dress, adapted from figure 4 in the 1956 Haslan Book of Fuller Figures Drafting No. 3.  What I like about the design is how lightly-fitted and comfortable it looks: a practical, casual garment for moving around in.

 

The material is a black and white zig-zag patterned cotton, with black plastic buttons. Machine sewn, except for the buttonholes, which are worked by hand. The diagram didn't specify whether the sleeve was to be faced and folded up, or have a faux-cuff attached. I opted to apply a separate band in imitation of a turned cuff. In the illustration, the garment is shown with a matching (self-fabric?) belt with two buttons. I converted this to a waistband, mostly because I don't like sewing pleats directly to other pleats (skirt to bodice). Also, the drafting instructions didn't given any directions for how to handle the waist-treatment.

Evening Gown with Bolero, c. 1956

I made this ensemble last summer for a wedding, but somehow got no pictures of me wearing it. The zipper also decided to shred itself the second time I put the dress on, so it's been languishing on the repair pile for a while.

Green dress!

The outer material is an apple-green silk shantung, lined in magenta silk habotai, both from Fashion Fabrics Club. The shantung came fully interfaced, which did some interesting things with the skirt drape, but didn't make it unbearably warm to wear (as I had feared). I drafted the pattern from a custom sloper using the Haslan system. The design is outfit No. 8, in the 1956 Haslan Book of Fuller Figures Drafting No. 3

The dress has a skirt of four sloped panels (nearly forming a complete circle) with a dropped waistline, princess-seamed bodice (and extra darts), and sweetheart-neckline halter. The bolero is made from the same material as the dress, with intrinsic sleeves and stand-up collar around the back of the neck. The dress zips down the left side; the halter back is fitted an has no separate fastener. I opted to use self-fabric-covered buttons for the two decorative points/flaps.

Coat, 16th century

 As usual, I found myself scrambling to complete a garment for one of my very few events this year (the Goode's Company muster), but never did finish the last few steps. 

This time, it was a mid/late 16th century woman's coat or waistcoat, patterned from the advance chapter of The Typical Tudor which I received last autumn for having pre-ordered the book. I'm still eagerly awaiting the final product (not in the least so I can start on my next kirtle with more confidence), so it was nice to get a useful sneak-peak. The outer material is a pale blue (twilled) wool stuff from Burnley & Trowbridge, whence came also the fastening hooks; the lining is mid-weight linen from fabrics-store.com (left-over pieces in both white and natural). I did the major internal seams by machine due to the time crunch, but finished the sleeve gussets and all the edges by hand.

A coat.

I intentionally tried to draft this coat with extra wearing ease in the upper arms/shoulder and upper chest, which has been a problem with my earlier outerwear from this period (a waistcoat). The mock-up seemed to suit, but I'm not entirely happy with the fit of the final garment. The gussets in the sleeve elbow were annoying to insert, but less so than I feared. I'm also not entirely convinced of their utility in this instance, but the pictorial evidence shows awkward little elbow gussets, so I sewed them. The skirt's extra volume is contained in three box pleats set into the side and back seams at the waist: these looked weird in the instructions, but came together quite easily. They reminded me of the pleats on the 1790s robe I once made.

Tiny, tiny stitches!

One aspect of this project that I am pleased with is the hand-stitching. All along the hem and openings (wrists, neck, front), the wool and linen are joined with tiny whip or running stitches. I am rather pleased with how small and even the stitching ended up.

Striped Skirt, c.1933

I started getting interested in 20th century vintage sewing last summer, but for various reasons haven't been able to post most of the resulting garments. This c.1933 skirt is the first one ready to photograph. 

'Tis stripey.

The underlying shape is very simple: four skirt pieces, each tapered toward the waist, and a two-piece shaped waistband/belt. I ended up adding a few small pleats to make the fabric drape better on me. This skirt is certainly comfortable, but I'm not particularly happy with the shaped waistband. It was weirdly difficult to fit: I cut out a mockup to my measurements with suitable ease, then took it in and reshaped the back seam to fit, cut the revised pattern in the fashion fabric...and had to take it in twice more. I used bound buttonholes instead of overstitching them, which was a first. I like the neat welted-esque finish (and the speed) of the bound holes, but trimming them is finicky.

I got a length of wool to make a second one of these, but honestly can't decide if I should follow the pattern exactly, or opt for a narrower waistband, or save the fabric for a different maxi-skirt.

1780s Stays

For the second day of Christmas: the stays I cut out a year ago last April. I actually finished binding them over the summer, but never managed to photograph the finished garment. The chamois leather was much easier to sew than any other sort I've work with; I ended up using a regular sharp needle rather than a leather needle, and it didn't have any sticking trouble. 

Finished Stays

I realized after I'd committed to the style that the shoulder straps really shouldn't have been bound. I also watched a couple of Luca's videos on original 18th century stays (via Foundations Revealed) while doing said binding, and now want to completely re-make these stays, with slightly different grainlines on the pieces.

Underarm guards are based on several examples in PoF 5. 

Easing the leather around the curves got easier as I worked, but it was still annoying, and there are several points I've less than pleased with--but I can live with that as an alternative to re-doing the binding.

Still rather pleased with the eyelets, if not the tab binding.

Merry Christmas

 

HFF 5.12: Sauce

The Challenge: Getting Saucy. Make a sauce.

The Recipe: Sauce Piquante from Eliza Acton's Modern Cookery

The Date/Year and Region: 1865, London

How Did You Make It:  I chopped two very small onions, totaling ~3 Tbsp worth, fried them in butter, added 1 tsp flour, and browned it a little more than intended (but didn't quite burn it). I then added 1 pint of fresh-made vegetable stock in lieu of drippings,, 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, 1 bay leaf, and a few sprigs of thyme. I brought this to a boil, and let simmer until the rest of the meal was ready (15-20 ish minutes), then strained out the solids, and added a dash of black pepper,and ~1 oz of apple cider vinegar.

Total Cost: Unsure. Used home-grown onions and thyme, and homemade vegetable stock, so not very expensive.

How Successful Was It?: The sauce ended up quite thin, and rather strong, mostly tasting of vinegar plus some cayenne. I probably shouldn't have strained out the onion pieces; it does only specify the thyme and bay being removed. Tasted on its own, the sauce was a bit much (mostly vinegar-flavored), but poured over meat, it added a bit of a pick-me-up.

How Accurate Is It?: I already noted the onions, and I'm wondering if I should have stirred the sauce more before pouring, with how the vinegar flavor predominated. I'll probably make this again, but will be more careful about the vinegar and stirring it in well.

Per the instructions, I served this sauce with Fillet of Beef (er, shoulder roast baked in lots of butter), with a side of Broccoli ala Francaise, and also bread and mashed potatoes.

[The broccoli was the best part of the meal: nice and buttery and steamed. I forgot the lemon juice, and just poured a little melted butter over the vegetables after removing them from the water. It tasted very nice, and I had seconds. The bread and potatoes were modern recipes. The fillet of beef wasn't bad (it's hard to go wrong with a ton of butter, some salt and pepper), and I finished my piece, but beef isn't really my thing.]

I think this is an excellent color for
something named 'sauce piquante'.

H.F.F. 5.10: Let Them Eat Cake

The Challenge: Let Them Eat Cake. Make a cake, or cakes, or anything involving "cake".

The Recipe: Queen Cake from Eliza Leslie's Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes and Sweetmeats

The Date/Year and Region: 1832, Philadelphia

How Did You Make It: Half-scale. I used 3 large eggs (for ~5 historic ones), 1/2 lb butter, 1/2 lb granulated sugar, 7 oz flour, 1 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp mace, 1/4 tsp cinnamon.  I  beat the butter and sugar together, then mixed the spices and flour, and beat the eggs separately. I added the flour mixture and eggs to the butter/sugar, then stirred in 2 oz of mixed brandy and white white, and 3/4 tsp rosewater. I baked the cakes in my new queen cake tins. Each tin was buttered and floured before baking.

This half batch made 1 of each shape, large and small, as well as an extra of the large round. Per the period instructions, I only filled each tin halfway, which was felicitous, as each cake basically doubled in height.  I was worried about need to use a utensil to free the cakes, and potentially scraping the tins, but the cakes actually pulled away from the sides like they were supposed to, came free with a few gentle taps to the pan.

I also made the icing at half scale for the icing: beat 1 egg white (rounded down for the size) into stiff peaks, added 6 teaspoons of powdered sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon rosewater. It gave a nice meringue texture, but didn't make enough to cover all the sides of the cakes. So, I probably shouldn't have rounded down the egg size (or possibly only the tops are meant to be frosted). I tried setting the iced cakes in the oven at "bread proof" (100F) to approximate the 'warm place to dry, not too close to the fire' instructions, but after 2 hours the icing was still tacky. Instead, I ended up baking them at 200F for another hour to dry the icing.

Time to Complete: Not counting the week to clean my oven after attempt 1  About 20 minutes to prepare the batter and pans, 15-20 minutes per batch in the oven, another 2+ hours to frost and dry.

Total Cost: Unsure.

How Successful Was It?: Second time was the charm. The cakes have a nice crumb, strong spicy flavor (neither too insipid or overwhelming), and stay fresh for a surprisingly long time. On days 3-5, the remaining cakes were slightly tough, but still quite palatable. 

My first attempt, using the Queen Cakes receipt from The Practical Housekeeper (1855) on a quarter scale was a complete disaster. The batter was fairly light after beating it for a long while, but the batter completely melted when baked (leaving behind only currants in melted butter in the pans and a huge mess in my oven). I also tried using pasteurized egg whites in the icing, but found that 'not suitable for meringues' also applies to meringue-like icings, so I used a regular egg white on the second attempt. Which worked much better.

How Accurate Is It?: I'm feeling pretty good about the tins. I used an electric oven and mixer. I already noted scaling down the eggs. I rounded down the rosewater in the recipe based on the proportions given in the icing receipt: it called for 8 drops lemon essence or 1 Tbsp rosewater in the icing, but the 12 drops of lemon or 1/2 glass of rosewater in the cake. I used the icing proportion instead, and concluded that 1 1/2 Tbsp was the appropriate amount of rosewater, and then halved that as I was working at half-scale.

Test cake has come out of the oven, large pans ready to go in.

Queen cake in many shapes

The cakes that lasted long enough to get frosted.

Queencake Pans

I'm very fortunate to have a friendly neighborhood tinsmith who likes experiments. 

Thus, queencake pans:

The pans are both numerous and shiny.

Sources for this project were both informative, and less common than I expected. I couldn't find any contemporary (c.1840-1865) illustrations of them, as are sometimes found in Beeton's or the other household books. In fact, the only historic illustration I could find was this from 1907: 

Queen Cake Pans from Saleable Shop Goods (London, 1907)

Written sources are a bit more plentiful, though again most receipts only say to use queencake pans, without describing them in great detail. Put all together, we know that the tins:

• Come in multiple sizes
• One of those sizes has an average volume of ~1.5-2 cups
• Various shapes are used, including round and oval
• Most queencake receipts give a thick batter, and are expected to double in size while cooking

Miss Leslie's Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats (1828) specifies that oval or round pans are best, and gives a queen cake receipt which calls for ~12 such pans; it uses 1 lb of flour, 1 pound butter, 14 oz sugar, and 10 eggs. The pans are to be filled about half-way. This advice is repeated verbatim in other books, as late as The American Family Cook Book (1860). [Compared to similarly sized cake receipts I've made, this suggests each queencake pan should bake about 5/6 cup batter, or that the total volume of each tin is 1.67-2 cups. As noted below, though, contemporary pans apparently came in a few different sizes.]

The complete Biscuit and Gingerbread Baker's Assistant (1854) calls for "some oval, round or other shaped small pans, similar to Queen's cake pans but rather deeper".  

The Practical Cook Book (1860) has three queencake recipes, one calling for rounds and two for tins. One of the tin receipts mentions rolling out the "paste" and spreading it 1/8" thick on the bottom of the tins (implying a very thick dough rather than a liquid batter).

An 1842 catalog of tin and japanware lists "Small, medium, and large" queencake tins.

The Saleable Shop Goods bakery manual (linked above) gives two sizes of queencake, the larger priced twice as high as the smaller.

Two sizes of the replica tins. In real life,
the short tins are also noticeably smaller in footprint.

For construction and detailed size information, I searched my usual material culture archives. None of the U.S. museums I checked had queencake pans or tins mentioned. Fortunately, the UK National Trust online collections came through with several sets. None are dated, but they show an array of shapes including some set combinations; some include dimensions, and most of the pictures are close enough to show construction techniques (some even mention the edge/corner construction in their descriptions!

These pans include a pair of square tins made "with rolled over edges and chamfered corners on the bases", and another set of five pans: an oval, a crescent, a clover, a diamond, and a triangle. Other lone shapes are a hexagon, kite, and heart. I also found another square, crescent, and two different triangles

Construction details. 

This was an interesting find. According to the expert, these style of folded and chamfered joins are easier and cheaper than a soldered join or wire edge. Experimentally, most of the tins hold water short term (say, while washing them), but won't contain a thin liquid indefinitely (as when a receipt calls for way too much butter so that the batter melts into a pool of butter with some sad currants at the bottom).
Even the shapes with sharp corners (like the diamond above) which have tiny holes in some of their corners are capable of containing the thick queencake batter while baking. 

Note on patty pans: this isn't a case of British and American English diverging. I've found queencake tins and patty pans named in cookbooks on both sides of the Atlantic. For example, Walsh's The Manual of Domestic Economy (1857) refers to patty pans of different sizes and shapes, but does not include any among its illustrations. Mrs. Rundell's Domestic Cookery (1859) mentions baking in small and very small patty pans, and has one receipt which call for "small moulds, patty pans, or saucers." Esther Copley's The Cook's Complete Guide (1810) mentions patty pans for making tarts, tartlets, and individual cheesecakes; The American Family Cook Book  (1859) does as well. I haven't found a definite answer for how queencake tins and patty pans differ, though the illustrations in Beeton suggest patty pans have sloped sides where queencake tins in the 1907 illustration have straight ones (miniature pie pans versus cake pans). The sources indicate that patty pans are small, come in different shapes and sizes, may have lids (?), and can be about the size of a saucer, tea cup, or half a soup plate in volume. This tracks pretty closely to I could find about queencake tins as far as size and shape. 

As for surviving patty pans, the only American museum example I found so far had no picture, description, or dimensions attached. The Museum of London and UK National trust again came though, the latter with several large sets of identical pans: about 90 of these 9cm diameter round pans, 24 rectangular (4.5cm x 6.5 cm); a set of 33 shallow round patty pans; an 18th century transferware patty pan; a set of 11 fluted round pans; fluted square pans, diamond-shaped pans, and more. 

Original: Cream Wool Coat with Chenille Braidwork

Wool cloak with silk trim, 1851. The Met.

 

It's a good thing I don't reenact the early 1850s, so I would very much need to replicate this cloak.

HFF 5.11: Comfort Food

Yep, I did these challenges out of order. The cake receipts experienced technical difficulties, so some comfort food was in order.

The Challenge: Comfort Food. Make a dish that you are comfortable with, or that is comforting to eat. 

The Recipe: Brandy Cocoa from The Mendelssohn Club Cook Book

Brandy Cocoa--Three tablespoons cocoa; 1 1/2 cups boiling water; 1/4 cup sugar; 4 cups milk; 3 teaspoons cooking brandy. Prepare as Reception cocoa, then add brandy before beating. 

[Scald milk, mix cocoa, sugar, and salt, adding enough boiling water to make a smooth paste, then add what water remains, and boil 1 minute; pour into scalded milk and beat 2 minutes with egg beater.*]

*The reception cocoa differs from the brandy cocoa by having half as much water, no brandy, and "a few grains of salt".

The Date/Year and Region: 1909; Rockfort, Illinois

How Did You Make It: I boiled water (in my electric kettle, very much cheating), while scalding the milk over the stove. I added 1/4 cup of the water into the sugar and cocoa, whisking it into a thin paste (I probably should have used less water to get a proper paste). I then whisked in the other 3/4 cup of water, having accidentally measured out 1 cup rather than 1 1/2 cup. I brought the cocoa-water up to a boil for another minute, then poured it into the scalded milk, added the brandy and spent two minutes whisking it together thoroughly.

Time to Complete: 19 minutes

Total Cost: Literally everything was left over from other projects.

How Successful Was It?: It tastes a little more tart than I usually make cocoa, but it's warm, and chocolatey, and I'm drinking it in quantity. It didn't taste as rich as I expected to, what with the whole milk, but that might be a combination of the water, and the relatively low amount of sugar. I didn't really taste the brandy at all. Normally when I make hot chocolate, I use heavily pre-sweetened mix in skim milk without any water, so this was a bit different.

I found it interesting that the recipe on the cocoa box eleven decades later is very similar to the "reception cocoa" in the 1909 cookbook: for the same 4 cups of milk, it uses 1/3 more cocoa, twice as much sugar, the same amount of salt, and about half as much water. It would seem that either this cocoa powder is a bit off from the period version or that modern tastes run rather sweeter and a little more chocolatey.

How Accurate Is It?: I used 1 cup of water instead of 1 1/2 cups, but considering the reception cocoa used that amount, I daresay it's within period norms. For a more representative 1909 cooking experience, a coal or gas range would be better, but the main difference I'd expect in this instance is cooking time. I used whole milk (which is probably closer than the skim I usually have on hand), and unsweetened 100% cocoa powder (which seemed to fit the cook book's description of 'cocoa' on page 28). Considering the recipe on the cocoa container is so similar, I think the modern product was actually a pretty good analog of the period one. I did use a whisk, having no egg beater, but it mixed the cocoa adequately.

It begins...

One disadvantage of this method is the amount of dishes it dirties.

A single batch does make a solid 4-5 mugs of cocoa.

H.F.F. 5.9: Fear Factor

I ended up putting this one off for a bit longer than intended. I was busy....and intimidated, seeing as that was the challenge.

The Challenge: Fear factor. Try using an ingredient or technique that intimidates you. 

The Recipe: Boiled Custard from Domestic Cookery, Useful Receipts, and Hints to Young Housekeepers

The Date/Year and Region: Baltimore, 1859

How Did You Make It: Half scale. I peeled one lemon, added the peel to 1 pint of whole milk, and set it on the stove over medium-high heat. Meanwhile, I beat 2 eggs with 2 Tbsp of granulated sugar. [Rounded down to from ~2.5 eggs to 2, because I was using large modern eggs.] When the milk just barely started to boil, I removed it from the heat, lifted out the peel, and then slowly poured in the eggs while stirring vigorously. I set the egg-milk mixture back on the burner at medium-high, stirring it carefully for 5 more minutes until it began to thicken, then removed it from the heat, poured it into a ceramic pitcher, and continued stirring it for 25 more minutes as it cooled.

I spent a lot of time stirring this mixture.

It actually seemed to get thinner as it cooled, not thicker, so I heated it again for 20 more minutes on medium-high (not allowing the mixture to boil) until it looked to be thickening again, and stirred it for 20 more minutes as it cooled.

After two attempts, the 'custard' had the
consistency of eggnog. Or a very melted milkshake.

Still being a liquid, I gave up and threw the whole pitcher in the refrigerator to deal with the next day.

Success through giving up?

After some 18 hours of cooling, it had thickened to passable custard consistency. [And I should have sprinkled with nutmeg.]

Time to Complete: A day. Prep: 5 min pre. Heating: 30 min to boil milk + 5 min to thicken. Cool: 25 min. Then another 20 each of heating and cooling. Then refrigerating  ~18 hours.

Total Cost: $2.25 

How Successful Was It: Delicate lemon flavor, and not too sweet. Custard-consistency was eventually reached, but there were some unpleasant lumps lingering in the custard.  I'm not sure whether these were caused by insufficient stirring while it cooled, or something about how I added the eggs, but it's just annoying enough that I'll need to solve it before serving this to anyone. I'm pretty sure I needed to boil the milk longer (I was scared of scalding it), and probably also to heat it with the eggs longer (I was scared of cooking the eggs in the milk, which I've done on accident). I expect this would help it thicken at room temperature, but failing that, my next step would be to use an ice or water bath to cool the pitcher further while stirring. 

I liked how straightforward the ingredients and instructions were, but probably won't bother with this receipt on its own: it's alright, but not worth the trouble. I think it's a good candidate for further practice, though, so that I can make custard when another recipe calls for some.

How Accurate Was It: I forgot the nutmeg. Alas.

I used a modern stove for heating (and ultimately, a fridge for cooling), but did all the mixing by hand. I already noted the adjustment for egg size. With no quantities given, I had to guess on the lemon peel and sugar. My initial thought was to use half a lemon peel, but I think using 1 lemon per pint milk is a tasty proportion--noticeably but not overwhelmingly lemon-flavored. Next time, I'd be tempted to go up to 3 Tbsp of sugar per pint milk: 2 Tbsp gave it the not-overly-sweet flavor I've come to expect from Victorian dessert receipts, but I think it could be a little sweeter and stay true to that standard.

Original: Royal Monogramed Stockings, 1887

Wool Stockings with Silk Adornments, 1887. In the Met.

Got onto another research project, and encountered these gorgeous silk-embroidered wool stockings from Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee, 1887. In addition to the crowned VR ("Victoria Regina") monogram embroidered in silk, the stockings have royal orbs and the United Kingdom's horticultural symbols: Scottish thistles, Irish shamrocks, and English roses. No Welsh leeks, though.   
 

HFF 5.8: Literary Food

 

The Challenge:  Literary Food. Make a dish mentioned in a novel, story or song.

I encountered the aphorism "Fine words butter no parsnips" in Vanity Fair (1848), and thought it too amusing to ignore--especially when I had a garden full of parsnips to cook up. It shows up in a smattering of other sources (like so), variously phrased by always referring to parsnips with butter. The cookbooks bear this out as the standard method of serving parsnips: 

"They are boiled and otherwise treated exactly as carrots. Melted butter is their usual accompaniment." (2500 Practical Receipts, 1837)

The Recipe: Parsnips/ Mashed Parsnips from Good Plain Cookery (1882) by Mary Hooper

PARSNIPS. These are usually served boiled plainly like carrots; they take from two to three hours to boil. Mashed, as in the following recipe, parsnips are excellent .

MASHED PARSNIPS. Wash and scrape a large parsnip, cut it into eight lengths and having divided them in half, put them into a quart of boiling water with a teaspoonful of salt and an ounce of good dripping. Boil the parsnip until perfectly tender; it will take about two hours to cook. Take it up, drain, and press the parsnip in a colander to get out as much moisture as possible, and with a wooden spoon mash it quite smooth, and then put it in a clean stewpan with an ounce of fresh butter, or a tablespoonful of milk and cream, add salt and pepper, and stir the parsnip over the fire for five minutes, and take care to serve hot.

The Date/Year and Region: British, 1882

How Did You Make It: Both ways. I started by peeling and slicing one of the large parsnips from my garden, then put it on to boil. I added the salt, but forgot to collect the drippings in time. I found that after 1 1/4 hour, the parsnip pieces were soft enough they were nearly falling apart, so I drained them. I set seven pieces aside, and mashed the rest with 2 Tbsp unsalted butter, and a dash of salt and pepper. I put the mashed parsnips back on the stove, stirring on med-low heat for another ~3 minutes. I melted 1 more Tbsp of butter to pour over the unmashed pieces.

Time to Complete: ~90 minutes

Total Cost: Used ~25 cents worth of butter, parsnip was homegrown

How Successful Was It?: Very tasty. The mashed parsnip had the texture of a well-mashed potato, and the incorporated butter really cut the sharp parsnip taste. The boiled parsnip was also good, and the parsnip's sharp flavor came through more clearly. I didn't put salt and pepper on the non-mashed parsnips, and comparing between the two, I think the salt and pepper is a pleasant addition, though not strictly necessary.

I've made the mashed parsnips twice more (having a ton of parsnips to use), and while neither time needed the full 2 hours to boil, the parsnips definitely work best when they are thoroughly softened before mashing. Thirty minutes isn't quite enough, but with small pieces the parsnips can definitely be cooked through in under an hour. 

How Accurate Is It?:  Other than forgetting the dripping, I thought this went fairly true to the recipe. I confess to using the microwave to quickly melt one tablespoon of butter. I grew heirloom parsnips this year in order to try cooking with them, and this is tasty enough that I plan to continue growing them next year as well.

The hollow crown parsnips are supposed to date
to the 1820s, not sure of a date on the turga parsnips.

Parsnips boiled and mashed.

HFF 5.7: Offal-ly Good

 

The Challenge: Offal-ly Good. Make a dish with offal or using parts of an ingredient that you normally wouldn't cook with. Watermelon rinds, seed pods, or anything edible-but-unexpected is on the table.  

The Recipe: Garbage from Harleian M.S. 279 "Potages Dyvers", as printed in Two Fifteenth Century Cookery Books 

xvij Garbage Take fayre garbagys of chykonys as þe hed þe fete þe lyuerys an be gysowrys washe hem clene an caste hem in a fayre potte an caste þer to freysshe brothe of Beef or ellys of moton an let it boyle an a lye it wyth brede an ley on Pepir an Safroun Maces Clowys an a lytil verious an salt an serue forth in the maner as a Sewe. 

In more modern spelling: 17. Garbage. Take fair garbages of chickens, as the head, the feet, the livers, and the gizzards, and wash them clean and cast them in a fair pot, and cast thereto fresh broth of beef or else of mutton and let it boil and allay it with bread and lay on pepper and saffron, mace, cloves, and a little verjuice and salt and serve forth in the manner as a sewe [stew?].

The Date/Year and Region: English, c.1430-1440

How Did You Make It: I saved the organs from the 4 boyl'd chickens made the previous night, as well as the remnants of one carcass (to substitute for the head/feet, which my cooking mentor recommended). Not being able to find any beef or mutton bones in the store(s), I used beef bouillon cubes for the beef broth. The meat and bones were added to the broth, and then boiled over the fire by my kind and able assistant. I added the pepper, saffron, mace, cloves, and salt just before serving. The bones were also removed prior to serving.    

Time to Complete: No time pieces were available, but it seemed ~ 1 hour-ish.

Total Cost: Unsure. The bouillon was about $2, but the chickens were purely left-over.

How Successful Was It?: It tasted great, though I still don't care for the texture of chicken hearts. I'd be tempted to copy the flavor profile for a chicken stew without organ meat. The spices were lovely with the chicken.

How Accurate Is It?: I purposefully substituted the carcasses of the left-over boiled chicken for the head/feet, after a long discussion with Friend-Who-Raises-Chickens. The reasoning is that the bones and cartilage and scraps of meat in the carcass should provide a similar flavor/thickening property as the head/feet, without the necessity of cleaning blood and feather off a fresh-killed chicken head (or assorted-barn-yard-matter off the feet). I'm also still working on the whole 'cooking with meat' thing, so I think this was the right choice for me. I omitted the bread on purpose since some of the diners need to avoid gluten/carbohydrates, and the verjuice on accident (I'd brought apple cider vinegar as a substitute for it). On the other hand, I couldn't find my ground cloves, and so used my mortar and pestle to grind up whole cloves, which was very fun. 

Garbage (pottage)

HFF 5.6: Luncheon

Still writing up the backlog....

 

The Challenge: Luncheon. Make a mid-day meal from your preferred era.

[I sorta cheated on the spirit here, since the mid-day meal of the 16th century is still dinner, aka the main meal of the day.]

The Recipe: "To boyle a Capon" from A Book of Cookrye

Take your Capon and boyle it tender, and take out a little of the broth and put it in a little pipkin with whole mace and a good deale of ginger, and quartered Dates, and boyle your corance and prunes in very faire water by themselves, for making of your broth black and thicken your broth with yolks of egges and wine strained togither or a little Vergious, and let your broth boile no more when you have thickened it, for it will quail.  Then cut sippits in a platter, and lay in your Capon, and laye your fruite upon it, so dooing serve it out.

The Date/Year and Region: British, 1591 (First edition 1583)

How Did You Make It: Over an actual fire!

I started by bringing a cauldron of water to boil over the fire, then adding a whole (pre-cleaned) chicken, and letting it continue boiling ~90 minutes. At that point, I cut the dates and prunes, and put 1/2 cup of each into a sauce pan with ~1 cup of the chicken water, and set it to boil on a trivet (which happened almost instantly--it was a very fast fire). Having misread the recipe, at this point I also the added 1/2 cup zante currants, 1/4 tsp each of powdered ginger and mace [the prunes and dates should have boiled separate first, then been combined with the broth and everything else]. Once the sauce had started boiling, I pulled it off the fire, added 1/2 cup white white and 1 egg (beaten well together), and stirred the sauce near-but-not-on the fire until it thickened, which took about a minute. Once the sauce was done, I confirmed the chicken had reached 165F, then removed it from the cauldron. 

To plate, I cut sippets of bread, arranged the chicken on top, and poured the sauce over all.

Time to Complete: About 2 hours. It would have gone ~30 minutes faster if I'd started the sauce earlier, since the fixed minimum time is "how long the chicken needs to cook through". 

Total Cost: About $25. 

How Successful Was It?: Needed a bit of salt. but otherwise good. The sippets got soggy fast, so using toasted bread would have been better there. When I made this again (with 4 birds, for an event) the next week, I added some salt to the boiling water, which improved the flavor to both bird and sauce. That second time, I used only 3 eggs instead of 4 in the sauce, and whether due to insufficient egg or less heat, the sauce never really thickened nicely. In both cases, I ended up boiling the chicken longer than needed, such that the bird started falling apart when I dished it up. I'm still getting used to the fruit+meat flavor combinations of the medieval and renaissance periods, but this one does work in my opinion.

How Accurate Is It?: One of my more accurate attempts, what with actually cooking it on a fire both times. I even used a ceramic pipkin for heating some of the second-attempt sauce next to the fire--and the first time, ate it with period-appropriate utensils, ie, the hand. The usual zante-currant-for-currant substitution was used, and the proportions in the sauces were all a fortunate guesses from my first attempt. I don't have an accurate 16th century cauldron or cooking pot, so 20th century cast iron was used. Also, I used a general grocery store chicken, not a real capon (though I'm given to understand that modern meat birds are closer in size to capons, ie neutered roosters, than to other historic birds). 

Sauce and boiling chicken (with bonus 20th century
dessert in the dutch oven).

Boyl'd Capon.

H.F.F. 5.5: Save It For Later

Believe it or not, I actually have been keeping up on the cooking part of the HFF. It's the writing that's fallen so far behind...

 

The Challenge: Save it for Later. Try to preserve a food for later use, or make a dish with preserved ingredients.

The Recipe: 

Pickled Nasturtiums (a very good Substitute for Capers)

To each pint of vinegar, 1 oz of salt, 6 pepper corns, nasturtiums. 

Gather the nasturtium pods on a dry day, and wipe them clean with a cloth; put them in a dry glass bottle with vinegar, salt, and pepper in the above proportion. If you cannot find enough ripe to fill a bottle, cork up what you have got until you have some more fit: they may be added from day to day. Bung up the bottles and seal or rosin the tops. They will be fit for use in 10 or 12 months and the best way is to make them one season for the next.

Look for nasturtium-pods from the end of July to the end of August.

The Date/Year and Region: British, 1861

How Did You Make It: I picked about three dozen nasturtium seed-pods ( I grew the "dwarf jewel mix" from Baker Creek, and have been getting red, orange, yellow, and particolored blossoms since June, with seed pods from late July to October), rinsed them with water, and patted dry.

I put 1 oz white vinegar, 1/2 oz pickling salt, and three peppercorns in the smallest canning jar I had, then added the nasturtiums. Since there was still space, I threw in a few radish seed pods that I'd picked as well. Following modern safety standards, I processed the jar for 10 minutes in a boiling water bath, rather than corking it.

Time to Complete: I spent about 10 minutes picking all the nasturtium pods I could find, <5 minutes to assemble all the ingredients, and 10 minutes processing the jar. Bringing the water bath up to boiling took a bit longer, though I did not time it.

Total Cost: $0, everything was from my garden or out of the pantry.

How Successful Was It?: I haven't tried it yet, but the jar appears to have sealed successfully.

How Accurate Is It?: I really should do more research into period vinegar varieties, but other than the modern safety measures, there were no known inaccuracies.

Nasturtium pods (and a few radish seed pods).

Having extra produce, I mixed up some of Beeton's Universal Pickle at the same time, and used it on the radish pods out of my garden and some cucumbers that a coworker grew. I made it at 1/6 scale, using 1 qt vinegar, 3 oz salt, 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper, 1 tsp mace, 1.5 tsp tumeric, 2 tsp mustard seed, and a small amount of coarsely chopped fresh ginger and small onions. This filled two quart jars, with a bit of the pickle left-over. If I make this again, I would not actually boil the mixture together before canning, as the vinegar vapor quite overwhelmed the kitchen, even with windows opens and fans at top speed (whereupon I stopped boiling it after ~10 minutes rather than 20, and promptly fled outdoors.)

Original: Green Silk Pelisse, 1828

 Did I select this one just for the color?

Silk Pelisse, English, c.1828 in LACMA.

Mostly. I also like the scalloped trim. I wonder whether the two silks faded the same, or if they originally had more (or less) contrast...

Original: Brown Mantle, 1871

 

Wool and silk mantle, c.1871.

Looking for inspiration for an upcoming project, and I found this lovely mantle c.1871. It's made of wool broadcloth mantle with silk taffeta lining, trimmed in silk ribbon and fringe. 

HFF 5.4: First Fruits

The Challenge: First Fruits

The Recipe: Apple Fritters from the Royal Baker and Pastry Cook

The Date/Year and Region: New York, 1902

How Did You Make It: I started by pealing and cutting up the singular apple [at 1/4 scale, because I'm still leery of fritters]. I cut it into quarters as directed, but then decided to divide thre of them into smaller slices, since I personally don't like chunky apple in pastries. I set the apples to soak in 1/4 cup of sweet white wine (moscato) with 2 Tablespoons of sugar, and some grated nutmeg (replacing the nutmeg extract).  I let these soak for about an hour, then melted some lard on the stove top while I made up the "plain fritter batter" right above the apple fritter recipe. This is the same one I used for the filet of eggs, and again used it on a half-scale. I mixed together 1/2 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon baking powder, and 1/8 teaspoon salt; then beat together 1 egg with 1/2 cup milk; and finally mixed the wet and dry ingredients, stirring to make a smooth batter. I then dipped the apple slices in the batter, and fried them in the lard. I sprinkled granulated sugar over the fritters before eating them.

Time to Complete: About 5 minutes to prep the apples, an hour to soak them (should have been 4), and then another 5-10 minutes mixing up the batter while the lard heated up. Approximately 20 minutes to cook.

Total Cost: All ingredients were on hand, so I didn't tally the cost.

How Successful Was It?: Better than I feared, but not really worth the work. The thinner slices cooked all the way through, and were alright. The quarter-apple was still hard in the center, which I do not like in my apple pastries (pie apple should be thinly sliced, not left in thick cubes!). I ate several of the fritters, but the egg-flavor of the batter was still quite strong, which made these a little weird at times with the sugar/fruit/nutmeg flavors. I didn't really taste the wine, but that might have been because I didn't soak the apple slices as long as I should have.

How Accurate Is It?: I didn't source an era-appropriate wine or heritage apple to use, and already noted my substitutions with the fresh ground nutmeg instead of extract, and slicing the apples thinner. Also, I probably I just need to find someone who can teach me how to make fritters.

Apple Fritters: Not Worth the Effort

HFF 5.3: Keep It Simple

The Challenge: Keep it simple.

The Recipe: Squash, another way (stewed) 

The Date/Year and Region: New York, 1866

How Did You Make It: Peeled one butternut squash, removed the seeds, and cut the squash into pieces. Boiled the squash until soft, then stewed it in butter with parsley, nutmeg, salt and pepper.

Time to Complete: ~30 minutes total

Total Cost: $0 [Was gifted a squash and needed to do something with it]

How Successful Was It?: Perfectly palatable. I'm not sure how often I'll make this, but it's a nice little recipe for when I have squash to use, or need another vegetable-based side dish for a dinner.

How Accurate Is It?: It's certainly simple, so the most I can say for accuracy could be improved by using appropriate heirloom squash. [Which I certainly tried to grow this year, without success.] I ended up making this a second time before posting it, using an unknown-variety of squash, and cooking it on a period-style woodstove. Even without the nutmeg and parsley that time (pure oversight), it proved an adequate little dish.

Original: 16th Century Waistcoat

 In honor the Faire I'd be attending but for the plague, a 16th century woman's waistcoat:

Embroidered linen waistcoat, 16th century, Art Institute of Chicago

The description says it's a plain-woven linen with silk and metallic (silver) embroidery. I suspect from the wings over the sleeves, that it's from the end of the century. I would love to get a closer look at those gusset seams (are they corded or just embroidered?).