Sunday, December 31, 2023

2023 Resolution Review

Looking back over the last year's costuming goals, it's time to see how they went.

  • 1570s: kirtle [post forthcoming], gown, 3 shifts, pair of comfortable garters
  • 18th century: cloak [post forthcoming], short gown
  • Regency: No goals, and none completed.
  • 1850s: new chemises and drawers. Also lots of corset mending.
  • 1873 ensemble: corset, bustle, petticoat, and dress
  • 1908/9 "Suffragette" ensemble: corset [post forthcoming], petticoat, suit, and hat.
  • 20th century: wool skirts, split skirt for the summer.
  • I made a few things on the knitting machine: stockings, muffatees, a rose.
  • I did not experiment with shoe making as much as I had hoped.

Other projects:

All told, I completed more than half of my planned projects, and a comparable amount of unplanned ones. The numbers improve when I reflect that I did, for instance, have a wearable 1909 ensemble for the event that needed one, even if it involved a petticoat from a different era, and didn't include a hat. The main hold-up with posting this year really came down to the actual photography and writing, which usually is the easiest part of the operation.

Saturday, December 30, 2023

December Mending

This has been the month of finishing projects, but it started it with a fair amount of mending for my 1850s Christmas events. I tore out the sleeves of my blue plaid (again!) at candlelight, so this time I took them off entirely, reattached the piping by hand, and then reset the sleeves (skipping the epaulets for want of time, on the assumption that I could re-cut them the next time I repair the sleeves). In an unexpected turn, the dress made it through both events with the sleeves intact. So now it just doesn't have sleeve caps. I also re-gauged half the skirt on that dress back in November (which also didn't get a write-up), and removed the watch-pocket at that time, since it had been hanging oddly.

My linen chemise got a new shoulder seam after I tore it out at the first event. 

Friday, December 29, 2023

Corset, 1870s

Another from the summer railroad events: the corset for my 1873 ensemble. I used the same material and hardware as on the corset for an 1890s ensemble. The pattern is one that was custom-made for me by Marie of The Fitting Room, right before everything shut down back in 2020. It's based on the corset design on page of Corsets and Crinolines.

Shaped-seam corset.

The material is a double layer of cotton coutil, with self-fabric binding, and 1/4" spring steels throughout. Busk and steels from Wawak; I forget whether this piece of coutil was from Renaissance Fabrics, Lacis, or somewhere else, which is unfortunate, as I'd prefer not to order it again.  It's a decently stout twill, but heavier and not quite as stiff as my favorite coutil.

On this garment I really tried to improve my ironing technique. Each seam was pressed closed and open,on both sides, with the clapper to help set them. For the more pronounced curves, I steamed and ironed the fabric over a dressmaker's ham to help set the shape. So far it seems to have paid off with a smooth finish and a garment that can't lie flat 

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Striped Dress, 1956

This project was drafted from the first design in the Haslam Book of Full Figure Draftings No. 3 (1956). 

The Goal.

I used a striped cotton seersucker (white and pale lavender); the three flower-shaped purple plastic buttons (recycled off a pair of pajamas my mom made me c.2001). As usual with the Haslam drafts, making/finishing instructions are sparse, so the sewing was up to my own interpretation. The main issues here was in the closure, which runs down the center front of the bodice, where the skirt is a solid panel. I took this as an offset closure, and made it with half of the front panel attached to a hidden waistband of white grosgrain. The bodice closes with three functional buttons, as shown in the drawing; I worked the buttonholes by hand, because I think they look nicer than my machine buttonholes.

Still need to fix the mannequin. The dress looks much better on a person.

Other than the waistband interpretation, my intentional change to the garment was adding a pocket in one of the right side seams. My unintentional change was not lining the lower bodice, which I was tempted to correct after-the-fact. However, I've found the dress comfortable and sufficiently opaque without it, though I wonder if the extra body would help the center front lie flatter. 

I was concerned that this dress's closures are all below the bust, though I've found that the fabric does stay put and provide decent coverage. Where it's giving me problems is actually lower down, as the fabric tends to gape between the buttons. I think I can solve this with the addition of some carefully-placed hooks and eyes. To get a fit more like the model, I'd need to bone the lower center front of the bodice, and possibly add shape-wear beneath it. Instead, I'm leaning towards keeping this dress unstructured, and easy to wash & wear.

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Christmas Dishes in A Christmas Carol

Let's take a closer look at early Victorian Christmas foods, as depicted in Charles Dickens's 1843 novella A Christmas Carol.

The Ghost of Christmas Present, on his throne of seasonal delicacies.

There are four places in A Christmas Carol where Dickens goes into detail about food served at Christmas. The first, and briefest, is a list of treats served at Fezziwig's Christmas party during Scrooge's youth:

"There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold Boiled, and there were mince pies, and plenty of beer."--Stave II: The First of the Three Spirits

It's worth remembering that this sequence is not set in the story's "present day" (approximately contemporaneous to 1843), but rather at an unspecified point in the past. I've seen adaptations put this c.1790s-1810s, but all we really know for certain is that Scrooge himself was an apprentice--probably in his late teens or early twenties--at the time of Fezziwig's party, which must have been several decades prior to the story's opening.

The other important pieces of context for this moment is that Fezziwig's party it is explicitly a private dance, which logistically lends itself more to a standing supper than a traditional Christmas dinner. The presence of cold meats (both 'boiled' and 'roast') fits well with this service model, while negus is also associated with parties. Furthermore, this is a party being given by a businessman for his family, apprentices, servants, and neighbor's servants. Class distinctions are alive and well in Victorian cookery, and it strikes me that the dishes mentioned here are neither the kinds of cheap food accorded to the very poor nor the especially expensive or impressive dainties laid out to impress middle/upper class guests at an important function. Instead, we're seeing the commonplace luxuries of a middle class family dinner (joints of meat, cake, pie), which would have been rarer treats for the guests at this party, at least one of whom is described as not being fed enough by his employer. The most distinctly Christmas element that I notice here is the mince pies.

The rest of our food descriptions come in during the Ghost of Christmas Present's sequence. He enters the scene with a horn of plenty, surrounded by Christmas decorations, and enthroned on similarly seasonal food:

"Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam." --Stave III: The Second of the Three Spirits
From their close association with Christmas Present (literally supporting him at his first appearance), these would appear to be the foods that Dickens thinks will most represent the Christmas celebration to his readers. Indeed, the exclusive use of greenery, fires, and food suggests that those are the most iconic physical objects of his 1840s English Christmases. There aren't religious or recreational accoutrements, presents, stockings, bells, or any of the familiar modern symbols of Christmas accompanying Christmas Present: just food, light/warmth, and foliage. These items not only arrive with the second spirit, but are also named a second time on their departure: "Holly, mistletoe, red berries, ivy, turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, puddings, fruit, and punch, all vanished instantly."

The foods themselves are all seasonal to the middle of winter, including meat, preserved meat products, nuts, shellfish, and hard tree fruit (the easiest fruit to store long-term, along with the citrus which would need to be shipped in from warmer climates). Twelfth cake, in the receipts I've found from this period, tends to be made with dried and candied fruits, which are likewise shelf-stable through this time of the year, while punch frequently features citrus fruit with various alcohols. The foods featured here also also luxurious to some extent: this symbolic and idealized presentation of Christmas feasting doesn't include the bread or vegetables that often accompany the meats (or, in humble circumstances, replace them), but focuses instead on the more aspirational and luxurious seasonal foods: things that would make Christmas meals special or even unique.

Immediately after this apparition, Scrooge and the spirit move into the streets, where the scene description encompasses the gloomy weather and cheerful countenances of the passersby, but also includes the different shops still open for last-minute customers. This third food description focuses on the ingredients being purchased on Christmas itself:

"The poulterers' shops were still half open, and the fruiterers' were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts...There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spanish onions...There were pears and apples clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers' benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown...there were Norfolk Biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags, and eaten after dinner. The very gold and silver fish, set forth among these choice fruits in a bowl..."

"The Grocers'! ...the blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint, and subsequently bilious. Nor was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly-decorated boxes, or that everything was good to eat and in its Christmas dress..."--Stave III: The Second of the Three Spirits

These different food stores are the only businesses described in this section: there's no last-minute gift shopping, only last-minute food shopping. Once again, the only tangible product worthy of note at Christmas is the food. The ingredients in the shops are given in more detail and variety than in the previous sequence, though the types are the same: we hear about nuts (chestnuts, filberts, almonds), fruit (pears, apples, grapes, oranges, lemons, raisins, figs, plums), and poultry, now joined by fish, drinks (coffee, tea), spices, confections (candied fruits), and finally a vegetable (onions). All that's missing are the pork products and baked goods. Which  I abridged this passage, Dickens's language here is evocative of all the senses, conjuring the color and shape and taste and smell of all these special Christmas foods.

Our fourth and final detailed look at food comes from our introduction to the Crachit household. The material is woven throughout a longer passage describing the family's dress and interactions, but it provides a glimpse of not only what the Crachits were eating, but also how they prepared it (and thus what amenities their house had for cooking):

"Mrs. Cratchit...laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters...while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes.. And now two smaller Cratchits,boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had smelt the goose, and known it for their own; and, basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onion, these young Cratchits danced about the table, and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he...blew the fire, until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, knocked loudly at the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled."

"...the two young Cratchits hustled Tiny Tim, and bore him off into the wash-house, that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper."

"Bob...compounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round, and put it on the hob to simmer, Master Peter and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession...Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot." 

"Eked out by apple sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last!"

"...the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top." 

"The compound in the jug being tasted and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel-full of chesnuts [sic] on the fire." --Stave III (pages 88-95)

To recap, the entirety of the Crachits' feast is a stuffed goose with gravy, apple sauce, and mashed potatoes, followed by a boiled Christmas pudding. After dinner there's fruit, chestnuts and hot punch (shared in three glasses). The narration that I omitted makes it clear that goose is a rare treat for the family, and that the pudding was very small for the number of people eating. 

Interestingly, none of this cooking takes place in a kitchen, or possibly on a stove. The fire in the main room is apparently where most of their cooking takes place: Mrs. Crachit heats the gravy, Peter boils the potatoes, and Bob prepares a festive punch on this heat source, which is called both fire and hob--whether that means a small cook stove, a small heating stove being used for cooking, or a fireplace with some fixture for supporting a saucepan is unclear to me. At any rate, contrary to certain popular adaptations, this cooking area is not sufficient for roasting, baking, or boiling the main menu items. Instead, the goose (stuffed with onion and sage) has been sent out to be baked by a professional, while the pudding is being boiled in the laundry room's copper [basically a proto-water heater: a large, built-in copper vessel over a fire, used to heat water in quantity for washing, etc.]. Both goose and pudding are small, but the Crachits still do not have a designated cooking space that can handle this quantity of food, despite the need to feed at least seven people on a daily basis. Are they routinely boiling their dinners in the copper? Or is their daily hot food limited to the cooking area on the hob? Or, are they among the poor population mentioned in a previous conversation between the Spirit and Scrooge who rely on commercial bakers, and may only eat one hot dinner per week? 

We don't get any firm answers to this, though it strikes me that Tiny Tim's miraculous recovery might be related to the family's increased income providing them with better food and the tools they need to cook it.

And that's a wrap. I didn't have a particular research question in mind with this project, but instead wanted to muse over how food is handled in A Christmas Carol. Dickens is very intentional about using food both to give a sense of place, and as a tangible symbol of Christmas itself, which I think has interesting implications for the importance of food to early Victorian Christmas celebrations. It's giving me an idea for a literature review on cooking facilities across class lines...

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Early Modern Cookery Books

On the second day of Christmas: a compilation of medieval and early modern cooking references I've found online. This is more of a gift to myself, in that the eclectic spelling makes it difficult to search for some of these by name, even when I know which book I'd like to use.

The Forme of Cury (c.1390) 

Two Fifteenth Century Cookbooks: Harleian MS 279 & 4016 (c. 1430-40 & c.1450)

Wynkyn de Worde's The Book of Kervynge/ The Book of Carving (1508) 

Le Grant Cuysinier de Toute Cuysine (1550, French)

The Good Husvvifes Jevvell/ The Good Huswifes Jewell (1582)

A Book of Cookrye (1584/1591)

Edward Allde's The Good Hous-wiues Treasurie/ The Good Housewife's Treasury (1588)

A Good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin (1593)

A Boke of Cookerie and the Order of Meates to Bee Serued to the Table (1629)

Gervaise Markham's English Housewife (1631)

Hannah Wooley's The Cooks Guide (1664)

The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie Kt. Opened (1669) Transcription.

The Accomplish'd Lady's Delight (1677)

 

W. Carew Hazlitt's Old Cookery Books and Ancient Cuisine (1902) lists additional early cookbook titles, some of which I have not yet found available online.


Thursday, December 21, 2023

HFF 6.23: Sweets for the Sweet

 

Detail from an 1850s painting with a woman's hands gesturing over a table of food.

The Challenge: Sweets for the Sweet. Make something sweet!

The Recipe: Great Cake (12th Night Cake) from Elinor Fettisplace's Receipt Book (edited by Hilary Spurling)

The Date/Year and Region: c.1590, English
 
How Did You Make It: I followed the modern 'translation', which primarily is a 1/8 reduced scale version of the given ingredients (the main difference is that no specific quantity is given for the sugar in the original). I started by weighing out the flour, adding the ginger, cinnamon and dried currants, then making a 'posset' with ale and milk and sugar, and starting the yeast in that. After the yeast proofed, I combined the dry and wet ingredients, kneaded the dough, and left it rise for an hour. After beating down the dough, I shaped it into individual rolls, and let those rise for an hour, then baked at 350F for about 30 minutes.
 
Time to Complete: With rise time, about 4 hours.
 
Total Cost: About $5 for the currants and beer; everything else on hand.
 
How Successful Was It?: Fine. It tasted like cinnamon raisin bread, but not all that sweet. Compared to the later Twelfth Cake recipes I've tried, this one was much more bread-like in texture, as well as being much less sweet, and having much less fruit. Which is to say, it made tasty rolls which kept well, but comes across as rather lacking for a cake. I was hoping to make this for a 16th century Twelfth Night party, and now I'm rethinking whether I should use a 19th century recipe instead. At the very least, I think that adding the rosewater-sugar glaze that the editor suggests (from Lady Elinor's marchpane receipt) would make it a bit more sweet and festive, though I'm tempted to add more sugar and/or some honey to the cake itself to make it sweeter.

How Accurate Is It? The historic instructions and modern ones are very similar, save only that the modern ones specify a particularly (small) amount of sugar should be added to the yeast posset, where the historic version just calls for 'some' sugar near the end of the recipe. I read it as rather ambiguous about whether the sugar goes in/on the cake near the end of the process, or if it's meant to be feeding the year from the outset. I did use a 2:1 ratio of ale to milk, simply because I didn't have any use for the leftovers; this didn't cause the cake to have a noticeable ale-flavor or aroma, so I think it was inconsequential. I did intentionally make this up as 12 smaller individual servings rather than a single great cake, but that was purely for ease of serving at my Lord of the Rings party.

The only frame of reference I have for early modern Twelfth Cake is Ruth Goodman's version from Tudor Monastery Farm, and while hers is likewise more of an enriched bread with fruit and spice than it is a modern cake, I don't know enough about her sources to make a definite judgement.

Adequate, if not 'great', cakes

Friday, December 15, 2023

HFF 6.21: Comfort Food

 Detail from an 1850s painting with a woman's hands gesturing over a table of food.

The Challenge: Comfort Food. The opposite of challenge #20. Try a historic version of your favorite comfort food, or a new receipt that uses techniques/tools/ingredients that you are comfortable working with.

The Recipe: Gingerbread. I've made different versions for many, many HFF challenges (including my first ever, and last year's "comfort food" challenge), but this year decided to improve my historic technique while also making a classic treat for the holidays.

I used the "all at once" Gingerbread V recipe from The Dictionary of Practical Receipts:

 V. Flour and treacle, of each 1 lb., butter 1 oz., carbonate of magnesia 1 oz., powdered ginger and cinnamon, of each 1 drachm, grated nutmeg 1/2 oz., let it be baked after having been made about four hours. This is for thin gingerbread; if for thick you must add more flour so as to make the paste stiffer.

Since I'm working on the method and shape here, I also consulted with The Complete Biscuit and Gingerbread Baker's Assistant (1854)

The Date/Year and Region: 1857, London

How Did You Make It: I started by weighing out 1 lb of molasses (substituting for treacle), which amounted to 8-10 fl oz judging by the apparent volume left in the container. I mixed this with 1 lb of all purpose flour, while adding the spices (1.5 tsp each of ginger and cinnamon, 2 tsp nutmeg). I then dissolved 1 oz of baker's ammonia aka hartshorn aka ammonium carbonate (substituting for the magnesium carbonate in the menu, since that's one of the few old-style chemical leaveners I didn't have on hand) in a cup of cold water, and added it to the dough. I set the mixed dough in the refrigerator for about 12 hours (not 4, since I had to go to work); later, I rolled it out to ~3/16" thick with just enough flour to keep it from sticking, then stamped and cut into small cakes, pricked with a fork, brushed with melted butter, and baked at 350F for 10 minutes.
 
[Powdered spices tend to run about 4-5 Tbsp per oz. Here I used 4 Tbsp/oz, so 1 drachm = 1/8 oz ~ 1.5 tsp ginger & cinnamon; 1/2 oz= 2 tbsp nutmeg
 
Time to Complete: About 15 minutes to mix up, another 10 to prep, and 30 minutes to bake the three pans, in addition to the hours of waiting-time.
 
Total Cost: I spent about $3 on the molasses, though I actually had everything else on hand.
 
How Successful Was It?: Softer than the other batch of molasses gingerbread that I made with pearlash. The reproduction stamp I used didn't give as clear as a picture as I'd hoped (weirdly enough, the forks holes that was almost invisible when made stood out after baking, while the stamped design flattened to almost nothing). I noticed a bitter aftertaste which I attributed to the hartshorn, though everyone else who tried it either denied the taste or attributed it to the molasses (in which case I would have expected it in the pearlash batch as well, where I didn't notice it). I was actually worried that the texture and bitterness would make these unsuitable, but three people still voluntarily asked to try it, and then proceeded to take the extras home. Apparently, it tastes a lot like various grandmothers' German cookies.

How Accurate Is It? I switched the leavener, though at least to one that was available (if falling rapidly out of fashion) at the time; the extra waiting time was another intentional departure, which doesn't appear to have hurt the final result. I used a replica resin springerle mold (a sleigh scene, allegedly copied from an 1830s original) and a tin cutter sized to it. Letting the dough rest was the real important part of this experiment: it transformed the sticky batter into a very familiar kind of cookie dough, and rolling it thin produced a far superior (as well as better documented) final product. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I've basically been making gingerbread wrong for years, because the waiting/rolling/cutting steps were not spelled out in the first recipes I tried.

Also, I've now got a group that wants to run some parallel experiments comparing early chemical leaveners, which sounds like a lot of fun.

1850s gingerbread recipe in 1830s mold
Not sure why the photo rotated like that...

Saturday, December 9, 2023

Skate-Sail, 1910

 Finally, an extreme (Edwardian) winter sport that looks fun:

Skate-sailing
 

I'm torn between the amusement and the injury potential. Though the article  in Ladies Home Companion helpfully gives instructions for making the sail at home, I do not have any convenient frozen rivers to test it on. Nor do I think the local ice rink has the necessary wind (or would permit it).

Friday, December 1, 2023

Original: Katharina of Sweden's Doll

 Ok, one more early modern original. Dolls are very seasonal for Christmas, and this one even has a lovely muff to keep her hands warm in the winter cold.

.
Fashion Doll, c. 1600, Staten Historika Museer.

I'm relying on translation software, but I believe the museum's website describes this doll as wearing a purple silk gown with gold lace; red silk sleeves (now faded) with gold mesh and pearls, and embroidered in red, silver, and gold; silk petticoat with silver; rose-color tafetta petticoat with gold; and a yellow taffeta bodice (bodiced petticoat?). The doll's face is silk embroidery on taffeta, with real hair; headdress of gold lace and pearls. [Additional views, including the doll's braided hairstyle, are available at Isis' Wardrobe.]

This doll is attributed to either Princess Katarina of Sweden (daughter of King Charles IX and by marriage the Countess Palantine of Kleeburg; she was also Gustavus Adolphus's older half-sister and guardian to young Queen Christina) or her mother Maria of the Palatinate-Simmern. An alternative date range of roughly the 1590s is also given in the object description; Katarina was born in 1584, and was the only surviving child at the time of her mother's death in 1589.