Apron (Workwoman's Guide)

Another recent project: a bib apron (fig 11 no 11) from The Workwoman's Guide (1838). This is is meant for a friend who has recently taken up tin-smithing, and wanted an extra layer to protect her dress from abrasion and snags. Therefore, I used a heavy cotton shirting fabric from Family Heirloom Weavers. The cotton tape shoulder straps are in the historic instructions, though the design is given as being for a girl or teen. I went this route since the intended wearer strongly dislikes pinner aprons, and it seemed a prudent compromise to get that upper protective layer without pins.

One apron with bib and shoulder straps.

The skirt is made from one panel (~54" after washing), which felt scant from my usual mid-century apron expectations. The instructions, however, insist that one breadth of fabric (as little as 36") is sufficient for working aprons.

HFF 5.25: Picnic

The Challenge: Picnic. Make a food to be eaten outside or on the go.

The Recipe: Chicken Salad from The Godey's Lady's Book Receipts and Household Hints. I set about looking for picnic receipts from the 1850s/1860s, and found that after generic 'salad' the most commonly named varieties (in a picnic setting) were lobster salad and chicken salad.

Chicken Salad--Mince the white meat of a chicken fine or pull it in bits; chop the white parts of celery; prepare a salad dressing thus: Rub the yelks of hard boiled eggs smooth with a spoon, put to each yelk a teaspoonful of made mustard, half as much salt, a tablespoonful of oil and a wineglass of strong vinegar; put the celery on a large dish; lay the chicken on that; then pour it over the dressing. Lettuce cut small in the place of celery may be used. Cut the whites of the eggs in rings to garnish the salad Turkey meat prepared in the same way makes almost as good a dish 

The Date/Year and Region: 1870, Philadelphia

How Did You Make It: Having no leftover chicken, I started by pan-frying a chicken tender and boiling an egg.  When done, I cut the chicken into small pieces, and sliced the egg into rounds. I removed the yolk from the egg, mashed it with a spoon, and then stirred in 1 tsp of mustard, 1/2 tsp salt, 1 Tbsp olive oil, and finally 1/4 cup white wine vinegar (~2 oz, which is one "wineglass" equivalent according to some sources). I then divided up a small head of lettuce, arranged the chicken on it, poured the dressing over, and finished by arranging the egg whites along the edges.

Total Time: About 10 minutes to arrange, after the chicken and egg are cooked.

Total Cost: Very little. Less than a dollar for the amount of egg and chicken I used, with the lettuce coming from my garden.

How Successful Was It?: Too much vinegar. It overwhelmed the flavors and made me drink a ton of water. What little I could taste beside that, seemed nice. This is very similar to other 19th century chicken salads I've made, but what I found appealing about this one was its simplicity. I don't have any cucumbers or beets or borage in the garden yet (only lettuce, endive, and the very first nastrutium), so I liked that this receipt would work in the early summer days when I have lots of lettuce to use and little else. Unlike Beeton's delightful recipe, this one also doesn't need milk for the dressing, which would be convenient for travel, allergies, and times when I don't have milk on hand. Next time, I would scale the vinegar down to 1 Tbsp (maybe up to 2 if needed after tasting).

How Accurate Is It? I used an actual heirloom lettuce from this period (Tom Thumb), so that was fun. I actually only tried that variety because it was from my main era, and found therein a very easy lettuce that grows fast, tastes nice, and is perfectly-sized for a single serving of salad.

 

 

Chicken Salad (1870): probably ok with less vinegar.

HFF 5.24: The Tiffany Problem

The Challenge: The Tiffany Problem. Try making a dish that's older than you'd expect; something that seems like it should be an anachronism, but isn't. 

Quinn's 19th century macaroni was how I was introduced to the 'Tiffany Problem' in the first place, so it seemed fitting to finally make some for myself.

The Recipe: To Dress Macaroni from Mrs. Hale's New Cook Book

The Date/Year and Region: 1857, Philadelphia

How Did You Make It: Per the instructions, I boiled the noodles (~4-5oz of cavatappi) until soft, drained them, then returned them to the pan with milk (1 cup), butter (~2 Tbsp), a dash of salt, and a dash of cayenne pepper. I grated ~2 oz of smoked Gruyère cheese into the pan, and stirred it all together for ~10 minutes while the oven pre-heated. I then poured the macaroni into a glass dish, sprinkled over it the smallest amount of bread crumbs I could justify, and let it sit in a cooling oven for 10 minutes to brown.

Total Time: 40 minutes

Total Cost: About $3

How Successful Was It?: Very tasty. I thought at first that I should have used more cheese (since the sauce seemed a bit thin), but the flavor was lovely and I found that after stirring the noodles around, they picked up the sauce very nicely. I don't usually like bread crumbs on pasta, but it actually didn't bother me this time.

I really liked this receipt as I made it this time, and wouldn't change anything. If I had to pick something to alter, I might try adding just a touch more cheese and/or pepper, but I'm not sure either of those would necessarily be an improvement. I would, however, add the slat and pepper to the milk before the noodles go it, just so it's a little easier to stir.

How Accurate Is It? I did use cavatappi-shaped noodles because the store was out of elbow macaroni, and that's the closest I could get. The cheese type wasn't specified, so I picked Gruyère because I heard it's a popular option for macaroni. It melted easily and tasted great, so I think this was a good decision--and if the internet is to be believed, this cheese has been made since the middle ages. I have less confidence that Victorians were using hickory smoked Gruyère in their macaroni, but it certainly tasted nice. For the ingredient proportions, I did follow the instructions to use enough milk to half-cover the cooked noodles; the rest of the ingredients are to one's own taste, excepting the butter, which I scaled down since I am only one person and wasn't preparing a dish for a whole table. I think this is a reasonable alteration since "butter the size of a turkey egg" isn't scaled to anything. I am disproportionately proud that I used homemade breadcrumbs in this receipt.

 

Macaroni from an 1857 recipe.

 

Wrocław Trencher Bread (Medieval Rye Bread)

I found myself without barley flour before the recent renaissance faire, and so went looking for a new bread recipe to try. I was very excited to find this reconstructed trencher bread recipe from Wrocław on medievalists.net because:

• It uses the types of flour (rye, whole wheat) I had on hand.
• It's based on documented ingredients and proportions.
• The instructions are really clear.
  
• I recently discovered that one of my ancestors immigrated from Wrocław, aka Breslau.

After making it, I was pleased because:

• It has a really nice texture.
• Good flavor (lots of compliments).
  
• Convenient-sized loaves.
  
• I got to hit the dough with a stick. Repeatedly.

I ended up making the recipe on a half-scale, which produced 5 loaves. Each loaf was conveniently sized to make a generous meal two people (we tend to sup on bread-and-cheese at Faire). The five loaves I made saw me through the whole weekend, with plenty to share. 

The recipe itself took a little time, since the sponge needs to be started the night before it is baked. Not having any barm, I took the option to use active dry yeast proofed in water (1/2 oz ~ 5 tsp, so this half-batch took 2.5 tsp yeast in 1/2 cup water), with a 5% lager as the beer (Foster's, selected at random). I also chose to use whole wheat flour with the rye, as I didn't have time to source any spelt flour. 

Despite having no added sugar, the yeast did it's job very well and the bread has a rich, full flavor. The pictures I took didn't turn out, but I decided to write this up anyway, so that I can duplicate this bread in the future. I'm eager to try it with spelt (and ideally barm, if I can find any), but would be quite happy to make it again exactly as is.

Original: Shirtwaist & Skirt, c.1902-4

Shirtwaist and matching skirt, 1902-4, from LACMA.