Grab your bag and grab your coat

It's funny how life comes full circle.  Ten years ago, almost to the day, we loaded up the car with our suitcases and boxes of things too precious for the moving company and our two cats-- at the time, Kelly and Sphinx-- and drove halfway across the country to Northern Virginia.  Everything was unfamiliar, too fast-paced for me, at first.  Then, slowly, I came to know the area.  I knew which roads led where, and I understood the sense of humor, and while the stress we put on ourselves was all-too-real I became a part of that culture, and by the time I left-- really left, after graduating from college when I no longer returned for summer vacations and winter breaks-- I even had a bit of love for the place.  It's fast-paced, yes, and there's definitely too much traffic, but it's charming in its way, and the closer into the city you are the better it becomes.

Three days ago, I loaded up the car.  I loaded it with clothes and books and DVDs and a few precious objects that I wanted to make my room feel homier.  I kissed our three cats goodbye-- still Sphinx, but now also Felix and Rhett-- and drove a few hours north along a now all-too-familiar highway.  I've moved in a bit closer to the city this time, but I still know which roads lead where, and I still have the stops of the Orange Line memorized.  Everything comes full circle.

But while this place is imbued with my past and memories of high school bleed through onto the streets and at the stops, I'm feeling so much more in the now than I have in a really long time.  Today I crossed Key Bridge into Georgetown, knowing which roads led where, until suddenly-- I didn't.  I crossed over into new territory where no past can bleed in and new memories wait to be made and for the first time in years I'm actually excited about doing something again.  Even though I'd never seen the campus before, it felt like home.  It felt like a place that I'd been waiting for since leaving my undergraduate program at William and Mary, like a weight lifted and finally a step in the right direction.  I met some really great people who seem just as excited as I am, and as we discussed places we want to explore and cupcake shops to visit, I realized that the past doesn't have to follow me here and I have so much more to discover in the next two years than I ever thought possible.

And though going home I knew where the roads would lead, even the familiar had a new cast to it. Everything already felt different and shining in the late-summer sunshine.

Sinful Spanish Loaves

One of my last days in Foodways we ate-- I'm sorry, I mean, we made-- Spanish Loaves.  These are absolutely, sinfully, decadently, wonderful.  Once I describe this you'll probably think it's a dessert, but in the eighteenth century this would have been a side dish.  Yes, a side dish.  I suggest you still put it with your side dishes, because who doesn't want chocolate at a meal?



Ok, so here's what you do.  Either buy or make six French rolls, then let them go a bit stale.  Cut off the tops of the rolls, then hollow out the roll, like you would a miniature bread bowl.  If the rolls have a thick crust, carefully grate off the outside crust to make the next step extra wonderful.

The next step is soaking them in wine.  Get a bowl of nice white wine and dip your bread rolls in til they are soaked through, then drain them and cover them in flour til they feel dry to the touch.  Make sure they feel dry or you could start a grease fire.  Then, heat a pound of lard (or butter, or vegetable oil) in a deep frier and put in the floured rolls.  Fry until golden brown. Then, roll the fried rolls in sugar. 

Finally fill your fried, sugared rolls with a chocolate cream.  To make chocolate cream, grate four ounces of dark chocolate (unflavored).  Heat a  pint of cream over the stove, then stir in the chocolate.  Once it's melted together a bit, add in two pre-whisked egg yolks tempered with a bit of the chocolate-cream blend, and as much sugar and spice as you desire.  Some good spices to add are cinnamon, nutmeg, mace, and a pinch of cayenne.  Stir constantly or you will end up with creamy chocolate scrambled eggs because of those yolks!  Once heated and a bit thick, take it off the stove and pour the cream into the French rolls.

Then enjoy!!!

Pretty as a Pear

Yesterday I finished my last day of work in Foodways for the summer.  I can't believe how quickly the past few months have gone by!  It seems like it can't have been so long since I signed my papers and got my costumes and began to cook and learn in earnest.  I'm so thankful for all of the friends I made this summer and the relationships I strengthened.  I'm also thankful for the cooking skills I gained!  Particularly, I like knowing how to make a pretty dish.  One dish that I made this last week at the Palace came out looking especially pretty.

It's called Pears Stewed Purple, or Pears Stewed Portuguese.  The recipe can be found in several cookbooks from the period, and it's very easy to make!  You will need three pears, port wine, sugar, cloves, and lemon-peel (optional).  Skin your pears, then leave one whole and cut the rest into quarters or eighths.  Put them in a relatively deep earthenware dish-- or a deep oven safe dish-- and add in about two cups of port wine, a quarter of a pound of sugar, some whole cloves (not too many!!! Too many cloves can make your mouth go numb.  Maybe only a teaspoon full, or 6-8), and a little bit of lemon-peel, if you choose.  Cover them with parchment paper and put them in the oven at about 325-350 degrees farenheit.  I have no idea how long this will take, so I would say to check every twenty minutes or so.  I cut the paper open to check.  Once they have softened and begun to take on the color of the wine they are done.



Arrange them on the plate, garnish with cloves, then enjoy!  They have a very nice flavor and can be served warm or cold, though I really liked them warm out of the oven. 

Eggs and Tomatoes

The other day in the kitchens I made a dish I’ve made once before and long ago: Eggs and Tomatoes, from Mary Randolph’s cookbook. The first time I made this dish was with Jim Gay when I was an intern. When I came across the recipe the other day, I felt as though I should attempt it again, considering I have such a short time left in Foodways. Silly though it may seem, I felt a bit like I was paying tribute to a great man and a great time.

It's a fairly simple recipe, and very tasty. While now we might think of this as a "scrambler" or an "omelet"-- definitely in the breakfast category-- in the eighteenth century this would have made a nice side dish to a dinner.

You will need six ounces of butter, a small-to-medium-sized onion, six or so small-to-middling tomatoes (note: you can use canned tomatoes in puree, just be sure to strain the tomatoes out from the puree), six eggs, and salt and pepper to taste.

First, get a large frying pan and add the butter.  Let it melt, then saute the onions in the butter until translucent.  Add in your tomatoes-- if you are using fresh tomatoes peel the skin off first-- and then cut them as they fry.  If you are using sliced canned tomatoes, strain off the juices.  Let the tomatoes and onions fry a bit more in the butter, then add the salt and pepper.  I like to use a little salt and more pepper to give it a kick.  Once all of that has fried a bit, break in six eggs.  Or, break six eggs into the bowl, whisk, and add into the fry pan.  Let all fry for a few more minutes, until the eggs are cooked to your liking, then serve.  

A Rich Dish: Buttered Crab

This is one for the books, folks!  Buttered crab!  An incredibly delectable dish full of flavor that you will not be able to finish alone.  I'm planning on making this for the next pot luck I'm invited to, and I suggest that you all do the same.  It will be a hit!

My buttered crab recipe comes from Hannah Glasse.  She suggests this recipe for either crab or lobster.  You will need: crab or lobster meat minced small (about a pound or a pound and 1/2), a glass of white wine, two tablespoons of vinegar (just plain white), a bit of nutmeg, half a pound of butter, two egg yolks, and an (optional!) anchovy.  First, if you have a whole crab, take the meat from the shell and save the great shell.  Hannah Glasse suggests that you serve up this dish in the shell when done.  If you have canned meat, skip that step-- it's not necessary, but makes for a great presentation.  Can you imagine?  Served in a crab shell!  But, it's not necessary.  As you can see, mine was simply presented on a plate.

So, put the crab meat in a large frying pan, add in your glass of white wine, your vinegar, and your nutmeg.  Let cook together for a few minutes.  While that cooks, melt your butter (if you're using an anchovy, add it to your butter here) and mix it with your egg yolks.  Then add that mixture to the crab meat, "shaking the sauce-pan constantly round till quite hot."  Then, if you have the great shell, pour the mixture into the shell for the presentation.  If not, put on a plate.

Then you need to make toast points!  Cut your bread into triangles and fry them in butter or lard until brown, like you would with the bread in a grilled cheese.  Once the bread has been lightly browned on each side, place pleasingly around your plate (or shell).  When you serve it, scoop the buttered crab onto the toast points.  This is a delicious, delicious dish that will fill you up after two bites (or four... or six).  Definitely take it to a party.

Lemonade? No, Lemon Creams!

Desserts in the eighteenth-century are light, little things meant to clear your palate after the heavy flavors of the meal. One of the prettiest is a Lemon Cream. Despite the name, this dessert does not involve any actual cream, just lemon juice, sugar, water, and egg whites.

(Our dessert section.  The Lemon Creams are in the glasses in the back.)

I used the Lemon Cream recipe from E. Smith’s The Compleat Housewife. Her recipe reads, “Take five large lemons, and squeeze out the juice, and the whites of six eggs well beaten, ten ounces of double refin’d sugar beaten very fine, and twenty spoonfuls of spring water; mix all together and strain it through a jelly-bag; set it over a gentle fire, scum it very well, when ‘tis as hot as you can bear your finger in, take it off, and pour it into Glasses; put shreds of lemon-peel into some of the glasses.”

So, take five large lemons and juice them. I find that the best way to juice any citrus fruit it to cut it in half, then slash it across with a knife, then dig in your fingers and let the juice run into a bowl. Once you’ve juiced the lemons, get together your egg whites. Take care that no yolk gets into the bowl of whites. Beat them fairly well, but these don’t need to be stiff like they would if you were making a pound cake. Mix the juice and whites together, add in ten ounces of sugar, then twenty tablespoons of water. Beat all together, then strain through a cloth of some kind. If you have a jelly-bag, great. I used a rag. You can use a cheese cloth. Just push the mixture through the cloth/bag and into a pot. Then set it on a burner turned on low-to-medium and cook until it’s not quite boiling. Be sure to stir the whole time so the eggs don’t solidify! Pour into glasses when it’s at a jelly-like texture. Very lovely dessert and so pretty in the glasses!


Note: Eating not-fully-cooked egg whites can be detrimental to your health in rare cases, and I’m not sure these actually get “fully cooked” (I think 160 degrees is standard), so just be aware of that if you attempt this recipe.

August Daze

August has been a wonderful month for me, but a bad month for my blogging.  So far, August has included a few cool recipes at the Palace kitchen, my birthday, a trip to Captiva Island in Florida, and currently a trip to the Outer Banks!  When life gets busy it becomes harder to blog, but I'm hoping to fill out the last half of this month with a few more food recipes and a couple of posts about my time at the beach(es).  I have five days left of recipe-making in the colonial kitchens this summer, plus a few backlogged recipes to share with you.  Then, the last week of this month, a move to DC and the beginnings of grad school!  Lots of excitement coming up here on this blog!

The Passing Summer

With my impending birthday, it really feels like summer is ending.  My birthday always signaled the beginning of the end of summer.  Days are getting noticeably shorter, the air feels like its in the last bursts of heat and humidity.  Soon August will end, and fall will begin.

I read an article by Rick Bragg in Southern Living about how when he was a kid August would drag on forever, and I think I can remember those days, too.  I used to go outside all the time.  I'd be at the pool everyday, and play in creeks around my house, and draw elaborate hopscotch configurations with sidewalk chalk, and jump on a trampoline that my friend Lizzy owned.  There were always fireflies to catch.  Summer never ended.  Now it always goes too fast, lost in a blur of adulthood.

But, what if it doesn't have to go in a blur?  Let's hold onto August while we can!  Days of sundresses and sandals, a trip to the beach in just a few days, the (temporary) end of my job in Foodways and the beginning of my life in a new city and a new graduate program.  This month looks so jam-packed I can hardly hold it all in my head.  I know that whatever I do it will go faster than I'd like, but maybe I can at least learn to savor it, instead of always looking ahead.  Even if stores began to stock "Back to School" early last month (and next month, I'm sure, we'll be inundated with the first of the Christmas goods), maybe if we all collectively savor the time we can make August sweeter, if not longer.