In the next recipe, the fool has amalgamated with the syllabub and the trifle, the gooseberry fool taking the place of the cake at the bottom of the dish. An attractive recipe.
GOOSEBERRY OR APPLE TRIFLE
‘Scald a sufficient quantity of fruit, and pulp it through a sieve, add sugar agreeable to taste, make a thick layer of this at the bottom of your dish: mix a pint of milk, a pint of cream, and the yolks of two eggs: scald it over the fire, observing to stir it: add a small quantity of sugar, and let it get cold: then lay it over the apples or gooseberries with a spoon, and put on the whole a whip [a syllabub] made the day before. If you use apples, add the rind of a lemon grated.’
Elizabeth Hammond, Modern Domestic Cookery and Useful Receipt
Book, c. 1817
The next recipe comes from a work compiled by two eighteenth-century London publicans.
TO MAKE GOOSEBERRY FOOL
‘Put two quarts of gooseberries into about a quart of water, and set them on the fire. When they begin to simmer, turn yellow, and to plump, throw them into a cullender to drain out the water, and with the back of a spoon carefully squeeze the pulp through a sieve into a dish. Make them pretty sweet, and let them stand till they are cold. In the meantime, take two quarts of milk, and the yolks of four eggs beaten up with a little grated nutmeg. Stir it softly over a slow fire, and when it begins to simmer, take it off, and by degrees stir it into the gooseberries. Let it stand till it be cold, and then serve it up. If you make it with cream, you need not put any eggs.’
Francis Collingwood and John Woollams, The Universal Cook and City and Country Housekeeper, 1791
The main point of interest about the book from which the foregoing recipe is extracted is the French translation which appeared in Paris in 1810.
The flow of English translations from French cookery books has been well-sustained ever since the mid-seventeenth century when La Varenne’s celebrated French Cook appeared in England. French kitchen terms peppered throughout English cookery books, and half-anglicized names of French dishes are no novelty to us. When for once the tide runs in the reverse direction we get a new view of our own cookery, and a revealing insight into the oddness of traditional names as they appear in another language.
In the case of Le Cuisinier Anglais Universel ou Le Nec Plus Ultra de la Gourmandise there are some interesting metamorphoses, as well as signs that the translator was defeated by the names of some of our cherished specialities, among them le catchup and le browning (‘to even the most skilled of French cooks these sauces will be new’, says the publisher’s preface). The syllabub turns up as Eternel Syllabub, syllabub solide, and syllabub sous la vache.
La plume of the French translator gives a new aspect to several of our old sweet dishes, among them the trifle which as bagatelle, regains something of its lost charm. Cheesecakes also return to grace and elegance as talmouses. As for folie de groseilles vertes it is no longer perfidious Albion’s frailty, serene and cool, but a wild whirl of summer gaiety and greenery.
I fancy that across the channel where Napoleon’s wars were ravaging all Europe, our two innkeepers fell flat as pancakes, and were it not for the felicities of their translator they would scarcely be worth comment. All their recipes had been borrowed – by their own admission – from earlier works and their style is charmless. It is a relief to turn back to something with the flavour of originality, an evocation of a truly pastoral summer dish, half fruit fool, half syllabub.
TO MAKE CREAM OF SUNDRY KINDS OF FRUITS
‘Take either currants, mulberries, raspberries or strawberries, sprinkle them with a little rose-water; press out the juice, and draw the milk out of the cow’s udder into it; sweeten it with a little sugar, and beat it well with birchen twigs, till it froth up; then strew over it a little fine beaten cinamon, and it will be an excellent mess. You may do this with the juice of plums, gooseberries, apricots, figs, or any juicy fruit.’
The Family Magazine Containing Useful Directions in All the Branches of House-keeping and Cookery, 1741
Now two seventeenth-century gooseberry dishes:
TO MAKE GOOSEBERRY CREAM
‘Codle them green, and boil them up with sugar, being preserved put them into the cream strain’d or whole scrape sugar on them, and so serve them cold in boil’d or raw cream. Thus you may do strawberries, raspas, or red currans, put in raw cream whole, or serve them with wine and sugar in a dish without cream.’
Robert May, The Accomplisht Cook, 1660
TO MAKE A GOOSEBERRY HUFF1
‘Take a quart of green gooseberries boil them and pulp them thro’ a sieve, take the whites of 3 eggs, beat them to a Froth, put it to the Gooseberries and beat it both together till it looks white, then take ½ pound refin’d sugar, make it into a Syrrup with Spring Water, boyl it to a Candy, [i.e. to the small thread] let it be almost cold then put it to the Gooseberries and Eggs and beat all together till tis all froth, which put into Cups or Glasses – Codlings [green apples] may be done the same way.
‘N.B. Eleven Ounces of Codlin pulp’d thro’ a sieve is a proper quantity to the above Eggs and Sugar.’
Dorset Dishes of the 17th Century, edited from MS. receipt books and published by J. Stevens Cox, The Toucan Press, Guernsey, 1967
BLACK FRUIT FOOL OR BLACK TART STUFF
This is a recipe adapted from a dish evidently popular three hundred years ago in the days of the Stuarts, when a purée of dried prunes, raisins and currants cooked in wine was used as a filling for tarts and pies. Recipes for this ‘black tart stuff’ as it was called appear in at least two cookery books of the second half of the seventeenth century. One of these books, The Accomplisht Cook of 1660 has already been quoted on pages 231 and 242. It is a most beautiful piece of cookery literature. The author, Robert May, worked in a number of grand and noble households, including that of the Countess of Kent, whose book of medical receipts appeared posthumously in 1653 under the title A Choice Manual, Or Rare Secrets in Physick and Chirurgery. Published together with A Choice Manual was a little book of cookery receipts entitled A True Gentlewoman’s Delight, often also attributed, although probably wrongly, to the Countess of Kent.
Robert May gives several different variations on his ‘black tart stuff’ recipe, one of which includes damsons. A True Gentlewoman’s Delight also gives a formula for black tart stuff. My own version is the result of experiments with these different recipes. I find it a delicious and refreshing cold fruit purée. As a pie filling it is rich and dark without the cloying and heavy qualities of mincemeat. It has also a certain originality which provides a small surprise at the end of the meal.
Exact proportions of the different dried fruits are not important, but as a rough guide, use ½ lb. of good large prunes, ¼ lb. of raisins (Spanish muscatels are the best for flavour and colour, stoneless Australian or South African raisins are cheaper) and 2 oz. of currants, plus ¼ pint of red table wine or ⅛ pint of port.
Put the prunes in an earthenware oven dish, with the wine and enough water to cover them. Leave them, in the covered pot, in a very slow oven, anything from gas no. ½to 1 or 290°F., to gas no. 3 or 330°F., for 2 to 3 hours or longer, until they are very swollen and completely soft and have absorbed most of the liquid. During the final hour or so of cooking put the raisins and currants previously well washed, in a separate oven pot, and with water to cover them, to bake.
Stone the prunes, sieve them, with any remaining juice. Strain and discard the water from the raisins and currants. Sieve them. Mix the two purées together.
Serve well chilled in glasses, or in one large bowl, with a layer of thin pouring cream floated on the top, and with sponge or shortbread fingers.1
When the purée is made a little extra port can be added by those who like a stronger flavour of wine.
These quantities fill six glasses of about 3-oz. capacity. The purée keeps well in the refrigerator, so it is economical to make a batch and store it.
A note for teetotallers: I have several time
s eaten another modern version of this dish in which black coffee rather than wine is used for flavouring the dried fruit.
QUINCE FOOL
Quarter and core the quinces but do not peel them; put them in a vegetable steamer – the kind known as an adaptable steamer, which looks a bit like a colander, and fits on the top of the saucepan, not a bain marie or double boiler – over a pan of water, and cover them. Steam until they are quite soft. Sieve them. Into the hot pulp stir caster sugar (about 6 to 8 oz. for 1½ lb. of quinces, but this is a matter of taste). When quite cold fold in about ¼ to ½ pint of fresh cream.
This is my version of a quince cream recipe from the note book of Mrs Owen of Penrhos in Anglesey, 1695.
DRIED APRICOT FOOL
The way to get the maximum flavour out of dried apricots is to bake them slowly in the oven instead of stewing them. They emerge nicely plump, with a roasted, smoky flavour which I find irresistible; although only, it must be said, if they have been dried without the sulphur dioxide used as a preservative for dried fruit. To get good dried apricots it is nowadays necessary to shop for them in wholefood and health food stores.
Put ½ lb. of fine dried apricots to soak in water just to cover for a couple of hours – or overnight if it is more convenient. Cook them, in the same water and without sugar, in a covered oven-pot at a moderate temperature, gas no. 3, 330°F., for about an hour. Strain off the juice. Put the apricots through the coarse mesh of the vegetable mill, and into the resulting purée mix about 4 tablespoons of honey – the amount depends upon the quality of the apricots as well as upon your own taste – and then stir in about ¼ pint of thick, slightly whipped cream. A good addition to dried apricot fool is a spoonful or two of freshly ground almonds.
Serve chilled in glasses or cups. Enough for four.
RHUBARB FOOL
Rhubarb fool is made in just the same way as gooseberry fool, but needs an even larger proportion of sugar, preferably dark brown, and it is very necessary when the rhubarb is cooked to put it in a colander or sieve and let the excess juice drain off before the purée is made and the cream added.
Rhubarb fool is a very beautiful dish – and to me the only way of making rhubarb acceptable. The brown sugar, incidentally, gives rhubarb a specially rich flavour and colour.
A NINETEENTH-CENTURY TRIFLE
‘Cover the bottom of the dish with Naples biscuits,1 and macaroons broken in halves, wet with brandy and white wine poured over them, cover them with patches of raspberry jam, fill the dish with a good custard, then whip up a syllabub, drain the froth on a sieve, put it on the custard and strew comfits2 over all.’
Frederick Bishop, The Wife’s Own Book of Cookery, 1852
It is rarely appreciated that in Bishop’s day, a Trifle was not a nursery pudding squashed anyhow into a common fruit bowl, but built up into a pyramid in an elegant stemmed glass compote dish. Crowned with its frothy whip and scattered with coloured comfits, the Trifle was a very pretty dish for a party. Eliza Acton, in Modern Cookery 1845, referred to a special trifle-dish. So did Mrs Beeton, in the first edition of Household Management 1861, and gave two illustrations of it, a black and white one on p.750, and a coloured one on plate VI. She garnished her built-up Trifle with strips of bright currant jelly, crystallised sweetmeats or flowers. Coloured comfits were rather old-fashioned, she thought. In her day cream was 1s. per pint and she estimated the total cost of her trifle at 5s. 6d.
ALMOND SHORTBREAD
A good and simple shortbread to serve with syllabubs, fruit fools, and creams.
3 oz. plain flour; 3 oz. unsalted butter; 1½ oz. of caster sugar; 1 oz. of ground almonds; ½ to 1 oz. of rice flour or cornflour.
Crumble the softened butter into the flour, sprinkling in the rice flour or cornflour at intervals, as and when the butter seems to be getting sticky. Add the almonds and the sugar.
The ingredients should not be worked too much. Grainy pieces will disappear in the cooking.
Spread the mixture into a 6-inch sandwich tin or tart tin with a removable base. Press it down lightly and smooth over the top with a palette knife. Prick the top surface with a fork.
Bake in the centre of a very slow oven, gas no. 2, 310°F., for an hour and a quarter, until the shortbread is a very pale biscuit colour.
Leave to cool in the tin, but before it is completely cold cut into small neat wedges. Enough for four people
Booklet published by Elizabeth David, 1969
*
In its original form my article on Syllabubs appeared in the very first number of Nova, in March 1965. The historical recipes which I had included in my typescript were, however, omitted from the published article, and these, together with several for English fruit fools, and a new introductory essay, were published in Queen magazine in the summer of 1968, in the days of Hugh Johnson’s editorship. On that occasion the article was illustrated with reproductions of Thomas Lowinsky’s wonderful twenties designs for table centres, drawn originally for Lovely Food, his wife Ruth’s book published by the Nonesuch Press in 1931.
For its next reincarnation, I rearranged, revised and slightly augmented the text of the Queen article, replacing the new introductory essay with the original one from Nova, and in 1969 published it in booklet form under the title Syllabubs and Fruit Fools. It was the last of a series of four little booklets which I published myself and sold to Elizabeth David Ltd. for the Pimlico kitchen utensil shop I had launched in 1965. Two years after the publication of the Syllabub book disagreements with my partners over policy matters led to my resignation as chairman and director of the firm and eventually to my total severance of all connection with it. When the booklets were finally sold out, I did not reprint them. The first of the series, Dried Herbs, Aromatics and Condiments, 1967, formed the nucleus of my Spices, Salt and Aromatics in the English Kitchen, Penguin 1970. Another, The Baking of an English Loaf, 1969, an article first published in Queen, December 4th 1968, was eventually incorporated, much rewritten, in my English Bread and Yeast Cookery, Allen Lane 1977. The fourth, English Potted Meats and Fish Pastes, 1968, is reprinted in the present volume, pp.216–229. The retail price of the Herb and the Bread booklets was 2/6d, the Potted Meat and the Syllabub ones were all of 2/9d.
I give these bibliographical details because from time to time I get asked for them by collectors and booksellers.
1. Published by Constable, 1964.
2. The spelling is Max Beerbohm’s.
1. Rhine wine.
2. Sherry.
3. Cassia bark, an alternative to cinnamon, cheaper and less pungent.
1. Miss McNeill has since died.
1. The editors of the 1971 OED missed Lady Grisell Baillie. Their earliest mention of an epergne is quoted as 1775.
2. For the syllabub, sweetmeat glasses and glass epergnes of the eighteenth century see Therle Hughes Sweetmeat and Jelly Glasses. Luttcrworth Press, Guildford 1982.
1. No. There had been earlier published recipes, notably in Mary Eales’ Mrs Eales Receipts 1718, and Vincent La Chapelle’s The Modern Cook 1733. Both authors had derived their ice cream recipes from earlier French sources. Mrs Glasse’s raspberry ice cream recipe, however, appears to be her own.
1. A redcurrant and whisked egg white confection made in a similar fashion was once a great favourite of my own. In the context huff means a puffed head.
1. See the recipe on page 245.
1. At this period sponge fingers.
2. Sugar-coated coriander or caraway seeds.
Operation Mulberry
Every August or early September for the last few years I have been lucky enough to receive a present of ripe mulberries from a magnificent old tree in the garden of Rainham Hall in Essex. I use them to make a Summer Pudding or a water ice. Last year I added a new dish of mulberries and almonds to the repertory.
SUMMER PUDDING OF MULBERRIES
For a small pudding, enough for four people, you need 1 lb. of home-made white bread at least two or three days old; 2 lb. of ripe mulbe
rries; about 6 oz. of white sugar; a Pyrex soufflé mould of 20-oz. capacity.
Cook the mulberries with the sugar until the juice runs.
Line the mould with narrow, crustless slices of bread. These must fit the dish exactly, with no spaces for the juice to seep through. This task is made quite easy if you dampen the bread slightly so that it can be pressed into the shape you need.
Pour in the warm mulberries, with just a little of their juice, reserving the rest for later, and leaving enough room at the top for a covering layer of bread slices. When these are fitted into place put a flat plate or saucer inside the dish. On top put a 2-lb. weight. Transfer the pudding to the refrigerator, where you may safely leave it for several days. It is in fact all the better for a prolonged wait in the cold. The juice is best stored in the freezer.
Turn the pudding out into a deep plate or a dish with room to hold some of the juice reserved for pouring over it. Don’t swamp it though.
With this most delicious version of summer pudding – raspberries and redcurrants make the next best – you need a jug of good rich cream of pouring consistency.
An Omelette and a Glass of Wine Page 28