Hash of Chickens, 1849

Day three of The Never-ending Chicken went very much like the two that came before. This time, I used the rest of the left-over boiled chicken to make a hash. When I've previously encountered hashes, they're a quick way to re-purpose some leftovers, particularly to stretch expensive meat into another meal (sometimes with judicious use of onions, etc., as needed to bulk it out). I was therefore surprised that Mrs. Putnam doesn't say one way or another about whether to use pre-cooked meat or fresh. Though the lack of washing steps might be her way of indicating that left-over chicken is to be used.

I got out a different plate to show it's not the same as yesterday...

All told, this recipe was weirdly similar to the chicken fricasse, just without the initial 'fry in butter' step. I put the chicken in a saucepan with some salt, pepper, butter, water, and flour; stirred it up; and let it cook for a several minutes. I wish I'd had some leftover gravy from the first day to use in the hash, both because it was tasty and because it would have provided some more contrast with the day before (the water/butter/flour being an alternative if no gravy is available). It tasted fine, though perhaps slightly bland.

Anyway, after three days of very similar recipes, I know feel very confident about cooking c,1849 chicken receipts using only butter and pantry staples. And I think it's time for a more adventurous receipt book. 

Fricassed Chicken, 1849

I used some of the leftover boiled chicken to make a "fricassee of chickens", also out of Mrs. Putnam's Receipt Book (1849). My only previous attempt at a fricassee was using the receipt from Miss Leslie's Complete Cookery (1851) when cooking at the fort some years back. I recall that version had a very strong, complexly flavored gravy with mace, nutmeg, cayenne, and parsley. 

This receipt was much simpler in its ingredients, and also in its flavor profile. The use of left-over chicken is based on the chicken fricassee in Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management (1861), which classifies it as "cold meat cookery". Miss Leslie's and Mrs. Putnam's books do not specify that pre-cooked meat must be used--and the washing step suggests it is not intended.

As previously noted, my carving skills are approximately non-existent, so I ended up with rather finer bits of meat than the "good sized pieces" called for. Meanwhile, I melted 4 oz of butter on the stove (working on half-scale), and proceeded to lightly fry the meat in the boiling butter. To that, I added 1 cup of boiling water, another generous pinch of salt and of pepper, and enough flour to start thickening things (about 2 Tablespoons).  After 10 or so minutes further cooking, I removed the dish from the heat, and served it. 

Served with bread and potatoes. And wine.

The quantity of butter made for a very rich dish; I think that even working on this half-scale, it was more butter than perhaps was needed for this amount of meat. The dish still tasted fine--additional seasoning would have been nice, but the salt/pepper/butter combination is perfectly nice. Using pre-cooked meat didn't harm it, that I could tell. So, the generally verdict is that it's fine, and easy, but could be more heavily seasoned.  

Boiled Chicken, 1849

Trying out a new historic receipt in the modern kitchen. Boiled meats routinely figure into mid-19th century bills of fare, and I haven't done much with them, so I thought I'd give it a try. The receipt I selected is from Mrs. Putnam's Receipt Book (Boston, 1849). It seems fairly straight forward:

BOILED CHICKENS--Dressed and boiled the same as a turkey. Some cooks do not stuff boiled chickens or turkeys, but the dressing adds as much to the boiled as to the roast. Pork boiled with chickens is very necessary. A pair of chickens requires from one to two hours to boil depending upon the size and age.

Like a boiled turkey, ok:

BOILED TURKEY. Is dressed the same as for roasting except in the dressing. Put in the pork chopped very fine instead of butter. In trussing, turn the wings on the back instead of the sides as for roasting; flour a cloth well, pin up the turkey tight, put it into boiling water where one or two pounds of salt pork have been boiling some time; let this boil with the turkey. Dish the pork with the turkey on a separate dish with some parsley. Serve with oyster sauce. A turkey weighing eight pounds requires an hour and a half to boil. 

While I appreciate the succinct receipts, this is quickly devolving into reading the whole chapter backward:

ROAST TURKEY-- A turkey should be well singed and cleaned of pinfeathers, then draw the inwards. Be sure you take every thing out that is inside. Lay the turkey into cold water, clean the gizzards, liver, heart, and neck, let all soak one hour if you have time. Wash all very clean, wipe the turkey very dry inside and out. Make a dressing of two cups of bread crumbs one tea spoonful of salt two large spoonsful of sweet marjoram two spoonsful of butter one egg and mix them well together. Cut the skin of the turkey in the back part of the neck that the breast may look plump fill the breast with the force meat and sew it up. If you have any more force meat than is required for the breast put the remainder into the body and skewer the vent tie the legs down very tight skewer the wings down to the sides and turn the neck on to the back with a strong skewer. Baste with salt and water once then frequently with butter fifteen minutes before dishing dredge with a little salt and flour and baste with butter for the last time. This will give a fine frothy appearance and add to the flavor of the turkey. To make the gravy put the gizzard neck and liver into a saucepan with a quart of water a little pepper salt and mace put it on the fire and let it boil to about a half pint. When done braid up the liver very fine with a knife put it back into the water it has boiled in then add the drippings of the turkey and a little flour and give it one boil stirring it all the time. Dish the gizzard with the turkey. Allow twelve minutes to a pound for the time to roast a turkey 

So, when all is said and done, that amounts to: after removing all feathers/organs, soak the bird in cold water; stuff the bird with a forcemeat of bread/pork/marjoram/salt/egg; tie the legs/wings in position; dredge with salt and flour; tie the chicken in a cloth and boil 1-2 hours with some salt pork.

That is what I did. I used some left-over ham for the salt pork, adding a generous pinch of salt to the water the chicken boiled in. It ended up going a bit over 2 hours, to finish when the bread was ready.

Et voila:

Pale, but it did exceed 165F.

For the gravy, I referred to the roast chicken receipt:

ROAST CHICKENS. Dress and roast the same as a turkey. A pair of chickens weighing six pounds requires an hour and a half to roast. Make the gravy the same as for a turkey except the mace which is to be omitted. 

And thus also back to the turkey one. As it says, I look the organs and stewed them down a bit, strained off the large bits, then finished it with some salt, pepper, and flour. It made a mild, but acceptable gravy. I really like mace with chicken, so I proceeded to add a pinch of it as well, which proved tasty.

Boiling chicken, boiling potatoes, boiling gravy.

The boiled fowl came out quite pale, without the crisp brown exterior I associate with a well-roasted piece of meat. As one would expect. The internal temperature exceeded 165F, so I deemed it safe to eat. The meat was so tender that it fell apart as I attempted to "carve" it. [I can't carve, so it was always going to be a bit of a mess.] 

The flavor was fine. It tasted like chicken. I'm not a huge stuffing fan, but I didn't notice any particular changes to the chicken meat from the use of the pork stuffing. I can see how this dish would be useful in a historic kitchen with a copper (ie, built-in water boiling apparatus), particularly if stove/hearth space is at a premium while preparing a large meal. Outside that logistic consideration or a deliberate attempt to follow a period bill of fare, I don't think I'll be making this often. I prefer the crisp finish of a roasted bird, and working on an electric range it's even easier to oven-roast a chicken than to boil it. 

1858 Morning Cap of Spotted Muslin

 The London and Paris Ladies' Magazine of Fashion, January 1858.

I found this one while looking for dotted muslin sleeve designs a few years ago, and noted it for its simplicity, but never made it because the shape is so unprepossessing. The description of this cap is pretty sparse: "Second do. [morning cap] of dotted muslin, trimmed with scarlet roses and ribbons of the same colour." Fortunately, the structure itself looks fairly self-explanatory: a round flat crown, edged in a ruffle of varying width.

It honestly doesn't look any better made up.

But I needed a quick cap for an online event, and decided to give it a try. It turns out those graduated ruffles are just the thing for ~1859 maximum-width side-braids. It's almost as though really wide side hair is the prevalent look of the time...

Cap doing its floaty thing.

I estimated the proportions from the picture the picture (1 ruffle "header" towards the crown = 1 unit: rest of ruffle is 1 unit at the center top, 3 units at center back, cap is 4 units visible diameter or ~6 units including the part covered by the ruffle). I initially used millinery wire to make a base for the crown, shaping it into loop around the back of the head. However, I really didn't like the way this made the crown either poof up like a mob cap or pull weirdly taut. So, the wire was not used in the final version. Instead, I just hemmed the circular crown, gathered the ruffle 1" from the sloped side, and basted it around.  I figured that using the straight edge on the outside would give a neater finish. 

I cut the ruffle as a single ~60" width of fabric, 5" deep at the center back join, 4" at the sides and 3" at the center front. This included 1" for waste after scalloping both sides on the pinking machine, though the actual waste was closer to 1/2".  To fit my head properly, I ended up enlarging the crown to 8"-9" diameter (it's a little taller than it is wide), though 

I was skeptical of the roses at first.

I used two velvet roses out my stash (originally from Timely Tresses) and the ribbons are two 18" long and 1.5" wide strips of remnant silk with pinked edges. Looking at the image again, I think I could have gone for slightly bigger and wider ribbons to better match the hints of a bow in the picture. However, I actually like how these fit over my hair on the sides. I tacked them in asymmetric 2-loop bows with trailing ends--one side has distinctly longer tails, the other more generous loops. The illustration doesn't show both sides, but wanted to go for the 'asymmetric but balanced' feel of other period headdresses.

Two straight pins at the upper back kept the cap neatly on my hair, but also fashionably far back on the head.

Matching Collar and Undersleeves

Finally able to post a late Christmas present: a collar and matching pair of turned-cuff undersleeves.

The full set

The base material is a Pimatex cotton lawn. It's very light, but with with nice body and a very smooth hand. It's almost buttery, and a delight to sew (and honestly just pleasant to hold while sewing). The lace is from my usual Belgian supplier.

Cuff detail

 The sleeves were based on this pair in the Met. I started embroidering cuffs, but didn't like how they looked. The change from drawstring to open upper edge was planned. I personally don't like wearing elastic/drawstring sleeves, and prefer to make mine full length to pin/baste them into the armscyth. Which is a legitimate style option; I have an antique dress with the undersleeves thus attached.

Inspiration sleeves, c.1850.

Kitchen Garden, February 1819

Prepare beds for radishes, onions, parsnips, and Dutch lettuce. Leeks and spinach should also be sown now; also celery, beets, marigolds, and sorrel, with any other of the hardy kinds. Make up the hot beds for early cucumbers, and sow cauliflower seeds, and some others. Plant beans and peas, observing to put in a fresh crop every fourteen days, by which means, if one fails, another will succeed. and a constant supply be provided. Plant kidney beans upon a hot bed for an early crop. The Battersea and dwarf white bean are the best sorts. When up, admit the air in the middle of fine days, and water gently every other day. Transplant cabbages plant out Silesia and cos lettuce from the winter bed; and plant potatoes and Jerusalem artichokes.

--Modern Domestic Cookery, and Useful Receipt Book

Original: Gown with Day and Evening Bodices, c.1865

 I'm not entirely a fan of the purple crepe trim on the day bodice, but I love how it's applied to the evening low body. And the fact that these three pieces have managed to stay together for 155 years. (Five pieces if you count the undersleeves attached to the day bodice. They do appear to have matching trim at the wrists.) 

Gown with day bodice c.1865 from LACMA.

Gown with evening bodice, c.1865.