I've spent the last several weeks packing up one room after another in my house, having it painted, and then unpacking. It's been quite a tedious chore, and I must admit, I left the worst for last - my office/guest bedroom which houses my cookbook library!

So a friend came over to help me pack up my fragile historic cookbooks and move bookshelves (among other things), so we started our day with a little tea party lunch. We had deviled eggs, spring pea "hummus" sandwiches, oatmeal nutmeg scones with butter and strawberry jam, and plenty of tea with sugar and milk. You can find my favorite deviled egg recipe and oatmeal nutmeg scone recipe here, but the spring pea "hummus" is new, so I thought I would share it as a nice, springy, Meatless Monday recipe. It's not historic in the least - it's my own creation - although it does FEEL like someone in the 1940s would have thought of this as a sandwich spread.

If you want to keep the green color, you need an acid to prevent the peas from turning olive green. Yogurt, buttermilk, lemon juice, or vinegar will all help keep that vibrant green. Fair warning - this makes a lot! Close to a quart. So cut the recipe in half if you live in a small household.

1 bag frozen peas
1/4 cup salted, roasted almonds
3 scallions
1/2 cup cottage cheese
1 tablespoon (or more) lemon juice
salt & pepper to taste

Bring about about an inch of water to boil in a 2 quart saucepan with a lid, then add the peas and steam, covered for 2 or 3 minutes, until they are tender and bright green. Drain and rinse in several changes of cold water to stop the cooking (and preserve the color). In a food processor or chopper, add all the ingredients, with the scallions and almonds in the bottom, so they blend first and best. Pulse until well-blended. Add a little water or more lemon juice to taste. 

This is a very forgiving recipe, and will take substitutions easily, provided the peas stay. Substitute walnuts or pumpkin seeds for the almonds, or leave the nuts out altogether (they do give some body). Substitute yogurt or sour cream or even a little buttermilk, or even avocado for the cottage cheese. Use vinegar instead of lemon juice, garlic or raw onion or chives instead of scallions. Add spinach or fresh parsley or dill for extra color and flavor.

I served this spread on toasted rye bread, but you can serve it on any kind of bread, or crackers, or flatbread, or potato chips, or with vegetables, or roll it up inside thinly sliced salami, or a piece of cheese. Use it as an addition to a BLT (you can leave out the T, if you're so inclined), or a ham or turkey sandwich. Put pickled onions on top or dollop it on a baked potato, or both. Stir it into hot pasta with some chicken and roasted spring vegetables for a yummy pasta primavera. The possibilities are endless!

Let's be honest, the scones and deviled eggs are just about gone, but the spring pea hummus will be making several showings this week for lunch. It's a nice way to get an extra, and yummy, serving of vegetables in. I hope you enjoy it!

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

Spring has sprung, with daffodils nodding in the frosty air and trees starting to bud out. So it seemed apt to celebrate with another tea party!

​Once again, our tiny tea party with just one friend featured all-vegetarian recipes, since said friend is a vegetarian. And also because chicken salad, while delicious, seems lazy when you're looking for something new and interesting to try.

This one featured recipes from a new cookbook acquisition, The Lunch Box and Every Kind of Sandwich by Florence Brobeck. My edition was published in 1949, although I believe the original was published sometime in the 1930s.

It's also a bright orange library binding without the original dust jacket. So no pretty cover to show off this time!

Unlike last time, my ambitious list didn't go QUITE as planned. Adapting historic recipes can be like that.

Radish and butter sandwiches just scream spring to me, and they're very easy to put together. To make things extra fancy, cut sliced bakery bread (not the squishy kind from the bread aisle - hit the bakery and get peasant, sourdough, brioche, or in a pinch, French or Italian bread) with a cookie or biscuit cutter into rounds. Spread with soft butter, top with thinly sliced radishes, and a sprinkling of salt (I used pink Himalayan). The salt is what makes the radishes look wet, but adds a nice flavor.

Open-faced cucumber sandwiches are equally easy. Make a cream cheese spread with softened cream cheese (15 seconds in the microwave does the trick), and thinly sliced scallions and dried dill. You can use jarred garlic or minced sweet onion instead of scallions. Spread it on any kind of rye bread. Top with English (a.k.a. seedless - even though they're not - or burpless) cucumbers. If you're hungry, top with another slice of bread spread with the cream cheese mixture, otherwise serve open-faced (which is prettier and more Scandinavian). If you're going really fancy, use fresh dill in the cream cheese and top each sandwich with a sprig of fresh dill.

The little square sandwiches were a mashup of two recipes from the The Lunch Box - "Roquefort Cheese and Celery" and "Pecan and Celery" fillings.

I decided to mash them up - literally - into one, slightly more interesting filling. I mixed a quarter pound of very soft blue cheese with about a cup each of diced pecans and finely minced celery, with a splash of Worcestershire sauce. It was a curious mixture. Next time I would probably add cream cheese to temper the blue cheese a little, and maybe add some scallions and/or smoked paprika. But otherwise it was quite nice on squares of thinly sliced whole grain bakery bread. 

Half the fun of tea sandwiches is the fun and dainty shapes you create. I always find it easier to slice the bread first, and then fill, but some people do it the other way around. 

When one encounters a recipe entitled "Honey Bread," one expects it to taste of, well, honey. Instead, the spicing of this little quick bread leaves the impression of gingerbread more than honey. Curiously, the recipe also contains no fat. I was skeptical, but aside from an accidental overbaking (which I think dried it out), it turned out fairly decently, if scarcely tasting of honey. 

I followed this recipe pretty much to the letter. It makes a tall loaf with a springy crumb - not at all the crumbly, moist, cake-like texture we come to associate with most quick breads today. Much more like true bread texture than cake. Here's the original recipe:

2 cups flour (I used white whole wheat)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 egg
1 cup milk
1/2 cup liquid honey

Sift the flour and measure it; then sift three times with the dry ingredients (or if you're lazy, just whisk everything together). Beat the egg with the milk, and stir this into the dry ingredients alternately with the honey. Beat and pour into a greased loaf pan.

Bake in a moderate oven (350 degrees F.) about forty-five minutes or until done.

Tip out of the pan and cool on a rack. Serve with salted butter, honey butter, and/or jam. 

This recipe is deceptive. The title, "Plain Buns" is not accurate - flavored with lemon zest and currants (I used golden raisins), the flavor was surprisingly strong and delicious. Designed to be used with cake yeast, all I had was rapid rise yeast, so I think they got a little overproofed. I'm going to try making them with active dry yeast again, so I won't comment too much on what I did, and just give you the original recipe:

1 cup scalded milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 yeast cake
1 cup flour
2/3 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup butter or margarine
1 tablespoon lard or shortening
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 lemon, grated rind
1 cup seedless raisins or currants (I used golden raisins)
2 or more cups flour
1 egg yolk

Scald the milk, add the sugar to it and, when it has cooled to lukewarm, add the yeast cake broken into small pieces. Cover this and let it stand twenty minutes. Then stir in one cup of sifted flour mixed with the salt. Cover and let this rise until light. Work the butter and lard together until creamy, add gradually the sugar, then the lemon rind. Combine with the first mixture, add the sifted flour (about one and one-half cups) to make a stiff sponge. Beat it well. Cover and let it rise again. Then add chopped raisins or currants and enough more sifted flour to make a soft dough. Cover and let rise again. Then pull off pieces and shape into large rolls. Arrange on a greased baking sheet one inch apart, cover them, and let rise again. Then brush them over with egg yolk, diluted with one teaspoon of water.

Bake in a moderately hot oven (375 degrees F.) twenty minutes. This makes twenty to twenty-four buns.

Obviously I didn't let rapid rise yeast go through fours separate rises! But I think it still overproofed a bit. I also forgot the egg wash! Which meant the buns looked a bit more like rocks. But they sure tasted good, and that's what mattered. If you enjoy the citrusy flavor of hot crossed buns, you'll love these.

I've made Strawberry Lazy Daisy Cake before, but this time I was somehow out of coconut, so I used chopped pecans for the topping as chopped nuts are the other traditional topping ingredient. Not QUITE as good as the coconut, but still yummy. 

Sadly for you, I did not make the walnut tassies (my friend did), and thus cannot share the recipe. However, she, like I did, had to make some substitutions! For Walnut Tassies are supposed to be Pecan Tassies, but my friend was out of pecans, so walnuts it was. The original recipe is supposed to be like tiny pecan pies, but tiny walnut pies were equally good.

One of the primary joys of tea parties, of course, is in the dishes. I've got my vintage Fire King Azurite Charm teacups and saucers, with newly acquired luncheon plates, some milk glass compotes with sugared strawberries in them, milk glass D ring mugs for cocoa, and assortment of vintage servingware in springy shades, on a vintage floral tablecloth. With tulips in the middle, of course. 

If you missed the last spring tea party, you can check it out here, with a promise of more to come!

Have you had a tea party recently? What favorite food did you feature? Tell us in the comments!

​​​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

Thanks to everyone who joined me for Food History Happy Hour this month. We talked about all things Irish and food, including the origins of corned beef, Irish soda bread, the Irish Potato Famine, Irish slavery and prejudice, cabbage, brussels sprouts, and the role of brassicas in European and Asian cuisine, and we touched on carageenan or Irish moss pudding, scones and bannocks, Irish coffee, and Irish desserts. 

Tonight's cocktail came from Fox's Bartender's Guide by Richard K. Fox (1902). The 1902 edition was preceded by The Police Gazette Bartender's Guide, first published in 1888, and with a much more interesting cover. Richard K. Fox was the Irish immigrant publisher of The Police Gazette, widely considered the one of the first men's magazines, and which covered tabloid-style sensationalist news, manly (and illegal) sports such as boxing and cockfighting, coverage of vaudeville shows, and "girlie" images of burlesque dancers and other ladies of ill repute. 

The cocktail itself is called "Irish" because of the use of Irish whiskey, which also features in several other cocktail recipes. Fox (or whomever was authoring the recipes) seemed rather fond of both absinthe and especially curacao, which feature prominently in most of the cocktail recipes. 

I won't replicate my version of this recipe as I made a number of substitutes (some knowingly, some out of ignorance) and the end result was not to my taste. Perhaps your version will be better!

Irish Cocktail.
Use large bar glass.
Fill glass with shaved ice.
Two dashes of absinthe. (or anisette)
One dash Maraschino. (the liqueur, not the cherries)
One dash Curacoa. (he means Curacao)
Two dashes bitters.
One wine-glassful of Irish whiskey. (probably 2 ounces)

Stir well with spoon, and after straining in cocktail glass, put in medium olive and squeeze lemon peel on top. (a.k.a. a twist of lemon)

This cocktail took on a rather unappealing hue, in large part because modern Curacao, an orange-flavored liqueur, is colored bright blue (something that apparently dates to the 1920s). But even historically absinthe was green. Thankfully, Maraschino liqueur is clear. But blue, green, and brown (the whiskey) a muddy-looking cocktail make, so keep that in mind. 

• The Irish Potato Famine - History.com
• "The curse of Cromwell: revisiting the Irish slavery debate" - History Ireland magazine
• "Is Corned Beef Really Irish?" - Smithsonian Magazine
• "Corned Beef Contains No Corn, and Other Things You Didn’t Know About Irish Food" - Cornell Daily Sun
• "History of Soda Bread" - Society for the Preservation of Irish Soda Bread
• "The short but fascinating history of Irish soda bread" - Trafalgar.com
• "Irish Soda Bread: Not Actually Irish?" - Today.com
• And I forgot to talk about Curacao! So here's a nice article from the Atlantic - "Behind the Caribbean's Iconic Liqueur" 

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

George Washington Carver is a historical figure you may have heard of. Perhaps you grew up learning in elementary school that he invented peanut butter (he didn't), or perhaps you know his work in popularizing sweet potatoes. You might know he was born into slavery, and through his pioneering efforts at plant science, helped found the agricultural college at the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama. 

But the bulk of his accomplishments have been glossed over in popular culture, until now. Grist recently published an excellent overview of the real contributions Carver made, and why they have largely been ignored. 

George Washington Carver died on January 5, 1943. Just a few months before his death, he published Nature's Garden for Victory and Peace, his contribution to the victory garden conversation during the Second World War. 

Many people wrongly attribute Carver's booklet as a guide to victory gardens. In fact, it is a guide to foraging, and in line with Carver's ideas about food sovereignty that were decades ahead of their time.

Carver knew that access to land meant access to food, and even if Black families were denied access to land to grow gardens, they could forage in the wild public spaces or unclaimed verges of roads, edges of fields, etc. Still coming out of the Great Depression in 1941, people were eager to supplement often meager food supplies however they could. Free food was worth the labor to collect and process it. 

Nature's Garden lays out not only the common and botanical names of many wild-growing and native greens and herbs, some with accompanying line drawings, but also advice for harvesting and processing, recipe suggestions, and advice on drying garden produce for long-term storage - cheaper and easier than canning, which required expensive equipment and jars. 

Carver also includes references to Indigenous food uses, such as the use of sumac in making "lemonade," and directions for how to make "Lye Hominy," using the nixtamalizing process invented by Indigenous peoples in Mexico to hull corn and make the naturally-occurring niacin in the corn absorbable by the human body.

The booklet was given away free - one copy per person. Additional copies could be acquired at the cost of printing. 

One of the few recipes Carver actually outlines in Nature's Garden is also one of the first - a recipe for dandelion salad.

It reads: "A simple, plain and appetizing salad made be made thus:
1 pint of finely shredded young dandelion leaves
1 medium sized onion, finely chopped
2 small radishes, finely chopped
1 tablespoon of minced parsley
1 tablespoon of sugar (can be left out)
Salt and pepper to taste

"Moisten thoroughly with weak vinegar or mayonnaise, mix, place in salad dish and garnish with slices of hard boiled egg and pickled beets. This is only one of the many delicious and appetizing salads that will readily suggest themselves to the resourceful housewife." 

A modern incarnation might be made with arugula, instead of dandelion leaves, if you are unable to forage your own safely. 

Today, other foragers are trying to reclaim foraging for BIPOC communities. Alexis Nikole Nelson, also known as Black Forager, is one of those people. Like Carver, she reminds everyone that foraging has been the purview of BIPOC communities for as long or longer than the white male foragers who often get all the attention these days. 

I love Alexis' near-daily posts and how she cooks the food she forages - the most important information and often left out of the foraging equation. She's been profiled by TheKitchn, and Civil Eats, but you can learn the most by just following her on Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, or Facebook. You can also support her work by becoming a patron on Patreon!

To learn more about George Washington Carver, check out these excellent resources.

• George Washington Carver Exhibit, National Agricultural Library, USDA
• "The land-healing work of George Washington Carver" on Grist
  
• "Carver’s Food Movement: How the famous botanist paved the way for today's 'sustainable agriculture'" in The Common Reader
• "Dr. George Washington Carver Biographical Information" - George Washington Carver Museum & Cultural Center
• My Work Is that of Conservation: An Environmental Biography of George Washington Carver by Mark D. Hersey - if you purchase from the Bookshop or Amazon links below, you'll be helping support The Food Historian.

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

It's been cold and snowy lately here in the northeast, and sometimes you just have to have soup. But going to the grocery store in a snowstorm is ill-advised. This recipe lets you use up all kinds of bits and ends that might be languishing in your refrigerator. 

This particular recipe is my own creation, based on what was in my kitchen, but is entirely inspired by history. Several parts of history, in fact.

The first is reducing food waste. Historical peoples did not throw out potatoes just because they were starting to sprout, or lettuce because it was a bit wilted, and neither should you. Putting lettuce in soup is also extraordinarily historic, and a practice that should be revived. 

Another is that this recipe is based on one of my favorites, "Green Onion Soup," from Rae Katherine Eighmey's Hearts & Homes: How Creative Cooks Fed the Soul and Spirit of America's Heartland, 1895-1939 (2002). Eighmey read hundreds of agricultural magazines and gleaned recipes and wisdom from the farm home sections. Found in the December 26, 1924 issue of Wallace's Farmer, Green Onion Soup is a unique recipe. A combination of simply green onions and potatoes, the soup is cooked in a small amount of water, and then partially mashed right in the pot without draining. Cream and milk are added to thin the soup and add richness. The soup is comforting and nourishing and retains all of the vitamins and minerals that might otherwise be lost by draining away the cooking water. 

Which brings me to the final inspiration - vitamin retention in the style of recipes from World War II. By cooking the vegetables in the water that becomes the broth, you lose far fewer nutrients and flavor. Plus, other aspects of the soup are also quite appropriate to WWII - it's meatless, in line with rationing, and makes good use of milk, a favorite 1940s ingredient. 

I had a number of foods that needed using up that made their way into this soup: a few red potatoes, a head of wilted red lettuce, the fresh bits of baby spinach out of a box that was on the verge of getting slimy, a whole celery root starting to go a bit soft, some garlic starting to go green in the middle, and the tail end of a gallon of milk. The only fresh addition was two bunches of green onions. You could modify it pretty much however you want - any kind of greens, any kind of onion, any kind of root vegetable. 

4 red potatoes
2 bunches green onions (scallions)
1 celery root
3 cloves garlic
1 head red lettuce
1-2 cups baby spinach
water
salt
pepper
1/2 cup half and half
1 cup buttermilk
whole milk

Scrub and dice the potatoes, cutting away any eyes or bad parts, but leave the skin on. Slice the green onions, white and green parts. Cut away the knobbly skin from the celery root, then cut into small dice. Mince the garlic, wash and chop the whole head of lettuce. Add it all, with the spinach to a large stock pot and add water not quite to cover. Add at least 1 teaspoon salt (I used wild garlic flavored crystal salt languishing in a drawer) and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer hard until all vegetables are very  tender and potatoes fall apart when pierced with a fork. Do not drain. Using a potato masher or sauce whisk, mash vegetables in the pot until blended with the water, leaving some chunks. 

Add a the half and half and buttermilk (or you could use part heavy cream, or leave out the buttermilk, or just use milk) then add milk to thin out the soup and to taste. Taste for salt and add more if necessary, along with pepper and whatever other herbs and spices you like. Serve nice and hot with buttered bread or toast. 

The buttermilk does add a nice, distinctive tang. If you don't have any, add a dollop of sour cream, or some plain yogurt, or a splash of lemon juice.

You could make this vegan with plant-based milk and butter. For a different flavor, add whatever fresh herbs you have lying around - dill, parsley, basil, and cilantro would all be good here. Add vegetable broth and some lemon juice instead of milk for a bright, brothy soup instead of something creamy. Use sweet potatoes or squash and tomato broth with the greens. The possibilities are really endless. 

If you'd like more interesting recipes, you can purchase Eighmey's book from Bookshop or Amazon - either way, if you do, your purchase will support The Food Historian!

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

Thanks to everyone who joined us for Food History Happy Hour tonight! We made a version of "Fruit Punch" from 1924, doctored with some spiced rum. We also discussed the history of tea, coffee, and hot chocolate, the use of tea in 18th century punch recipes and in the Temperance movement, the influence of coffee houses on politics and science, the gendering of these drinks, and the difference between high tea, low tea, and afternoon tea. 

We often think of fruit punch today as the bright red sugary concoction of questionable flavor profile. Historically, fruit punches were non-alcoholic alternatives to highly alcoholic party punches popular in the 18th century. This version was probably inspired by Philadelphia Fish House Punch, a heady mix of citrus fruit, rum, brandy, cognac, and black tea. Here's the original recipe:

1 cup sugar
1 cup very strong tea
3/4 cup orange juice
1/3 cup lemon juice
1 pint ginger-ale
1 pint apollinaris (seltzer/club soda)
This makes about 10 glasses.

Here's the lovely alternative I made
1/2 cup sugar (this was VERY sweet, feel free to cut it to 1/4 cup)
1 cup very strong tea
juice of 2 oranges
juice of 1 lemon
1 cup ginger ale
1 cup seltzer
1/2 cup spiced rum

Stir tea and sugar together over ice, then and the other ingredients and stir to combine. Serve cold in small cups. This is very good and very smooth. 

You could easily leave out the rum for a more Temperance-friendly non-alcoholic punch, or you can see other alternative punches, along with a history of Temperance, here. 

Next weekend I'm going to have another tea party, but in the meantime you can review the one from last weekend! So fun. 

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

I've given a couple of talks on the history of macaroni and cheese now, and invariably someone brings up how homemade macaroni and cheese is so much better than Kraft. And I agree! While Kraft Dinner, invented in 1937, is definitely an important part of American history, you don't have to like it to appreciate it. 

Macaroni and cheese dates back quite far in Western history. I think macaroni and cheese has its origins in ancient Roman shepherding and cacio e pepe - dried pasta, a little pasta water, very finely grated (fluffy!) pecorino romano cheese, and plenty of black pepper. But I like lots of black pepper on my macaroni and cheese, so perhaps I'm biased. 

By the 18th century, it's popular in Europe and James Hemings, enslaved chef to Thomas Jefferson, famously brings it back from his time in France. In fact, his recipe may have influenced cookbook author Mary Randolph, who was related to Jefferson, and whose macaroni and cheese recipe is one of the first to appear in an American cookbook. 

Macaroni and cheese is not particularly difficult to make. You can go super old-school and just layer butter and cheese, like Mary Randolph in The Virginia Housewife, one of the earliest references to macaroni and cheese in American cookbooks. 

Or, you could emulate the later 19th century with a mornay sauce - that's bechamel maigre  with some shredded cheese mixed in. 

I'm firmly in the cheese sauce category, although I'm tempted to try the butter-and-cheese baked version, just to see how it measures up. 

Regardless, over the course of the 19th century, macaroni and cheese underwent a bit of a revolution, from expensive imported dish of the wealthy, to affordable railroad dining car, hotel, and cafeteria staple. For some, notably Black Americans, it also became an essential part of Thanksgiving and holiday tables - with recipes as varied as the cooks who made them. By the time we got halfway through the 20th century, it had also become a Depression-proof comfort food, beloved by children and people of all ages. 

Whether you're weathering a global pandemic, a bad day at work (or school), or just want to relive your childhood a bit, it's hard to go wrong with a steaming hot bowl of creamy, comforting, delicious macaroni and cheese. 

There's not a lot of measuring in my kitchen, but the butter-to-flour ratio must always hold true - equal parts. You can increase or decrease the cheese to your preference, you can even mix cheeses. If you want something that tastes vaguely like Kraft, be sure to go with plenty of mild cheddar. Otherwise any kind of cheese, from smoked gouda to swiss to blue to cream cheese, are all fair game. You can halve this recipe if need be, but just make the whole pound of pasta. It makes decent leftovers. Here's what you'll need.

1 pound semolina pasta, any kind (I like elbows or medium shells)
1/2 cup butter (1 stick, salted or unsalted)
1/2 cup white flour
at least 1 quart whole milk, maybe more
1-2 cups shredded cheese 
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard (secret ingredient, optional)
1-2 teaspoons salt

Your equipment needs are also basic. You'll need a 4 or 5 quart stockpot to boil the pasta, and a 2 quart pot to make the sauce, preferably one with a heavy bottom. Oh, and life will be a lot easier if you have one of these:

Okay, on to the instructions. First, grate your cheese. Don't use the pre-packaged store-bought shredded cheese - it's got anti-clumping agents (usually cellulose) that also prevent it from melting well.

Then, fill your 4 or 5 quart stockpot with at least 3 quarts of water and bring to a boil over high heat. Once boiling, add the pasta, a tablespoon of salt, give it a good stir to make sure it doesn't stick, and let it come back to a boil.

Next, add your butter to the smaller saucepan and cook over medium heat until the butter is melted and bubbling. When the butter makes a sizzling noise, quickly whisk in the flour, making sure there are no lumps. And then, the important part, let the butter and flour mixture cook for at least 30 seconds, stirring occasionally. If you don't cook your flour, your sauce will be pasty. Yuck. There's a fine balance between golden cooked mixture and browned roux, though, so just keep an eye on it.

Once your roux is cooked, start adding whole milk, a cup or so at a time. Whisk and allow to thicken between additions. After you've added a few cups of milk and the sauce is thickening up again, add your shredded cheese and Dijon mustard, and whisk thoroughly until the cheese is melted into the now very thick sauce. Then add more milk and whisk vigorously again. Keep adding milk until your saucepan is at least 2/3 if not 3/4 full. 

Meanwhile, your pasta has been boiling. You should check it occasionally to test doneness - the pasta should be soft but not soggy. Taste a piece each time. When done, drain and return to the cooking pot. 

Once your cheese sauce is thickened up enough to nicely coat a spoon, taste for salt and add, 1 teaspoon at a time. You want your sauce to be quite salty, as the pasta will be bland and absorb flavor. Once you're satisfied (always better to undersalt - you can add more at the table), pour the cheese sauce into the stockpot with the pasta and stir well. If the sauce seems a little liquidy, let it rest on the pasta for a few minutes. The pasta will absorb much of the liquid and thicken the sauce.

Serve hot with extra salt for those who like it very salty (like me), and plenty of black pepper. Feel free to also top it with more cheese, chopped tomatoes, sliced scallions, caramelized onions, crumbled bacon, sausage, steamed broccoli, or anything else that strikes your fancy. 

If making the cheese sauce and boiling the pasta at the same time seems tricksy and too much multi-tasking, boil and drain your pasta first, and then make the sauce. You'll feel better if you can give it your full attention, without getting distracted. 

And there you have it - a macaroni and cheese recipe that is tastier than Kraft, nearly the same speed (start to finish is about 30 minutes), and almost as cheap. 

Do you have a favorite way you like your macaroni and cheese? 

​​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

I love winter, don't get me wrong, and the frequent snowstorms and squalls we've been having here in New York have actually lifted my spirits more often than not. I vastly prefer fluffy white snow and prettily iced trees to muddy brown landscape and grey days. That being said, sometimes you just need to brighten your day, and this was exactly the little escape I needed. I spent the morning cooking and baking, a friend brought cookies and tulips, and we sat down to a delightful tea party, complete with my new favorite electric tea kettle. It was an excuse also to use some of my extensive collection of vintage glassware. I didn't match, but that was okay. Who can say no to hobnail compote dishes and Charm teacups? 

Deviled Eggs
Lentilwurst Sandwiches with Mustard on Pumpernickel
Cucumber Sandwiches With Herbed Cream Cheese on White
​Ruby Red Grapefruit Sections in Light Syrup
Oatmeal Nutmeg Scones
Citrus Yogurt Olive Oil Cake
Chocolate Chip Cookies
Hot Cocoa
Assorted Tea with Cream and Sugar

I seriously considered making Earl Grey madeleines, and maybe cream biscuits with assorted jams, but with only three of us, this was plenty. We remarked on the funny thing about tea parties is that everything is fairly small, so it doesn't seem like much food, but it certainly fills you up quickly!

The menu was fairly easy. Our friend brought the cookies, the grapefruit was pre-sectioned from the refrigerated produce section of the grocery store. The most involved recipe was the citrus yogurt olive oil cake, which was okay, but not as nice as I had hoped, so I'm not going to include the recipe here.

​I made this tea party vegetarian in part because our friend is vegetarian, but also because vegetarian food just seems a bit lighter and more appropriate for a tea party. You can satisfy even the heartiest appetite with lentilwurst sandwiches - the mushroom/lentil mixture really does smell and even taste like sausage, thanks to the mix of herbs and spices. I first made lentilwurst back for our White Christmas themed party, and I've made it several times since. 

What is a tea party without cucumber sandwiches? I went extra-fancy here and cut rounds out of the centers of soft white sandwich bread (the bakery kind, not the pre-sliced kind). Frankly, it didn't make a lot of rounds, so I left these open-faced. ​I'm saving the outer scraps for bread pudding later this week. The rest of the recipe is simple. You'll need:

1 package neufchatel cream cheese
2 scallions
dried dill weed
a tablespoon or two of milk, cream, or buttermilk
1 English (or burpless/seedless) cucumber
white bread rounds

Soften the cream cheese at room temperature. Thinly slice the scallions, white and green parts, and add to the cream cheese with the dill weed and liquid. With a fork, mash the lot together until well mixed. Spread onto the rounds of bread and top with thin slices of cucumber. If you want to be extra fancy, you could garnish with fresh dill or chives. 

​The bread will dry out as you let it sit out, so try to do these sandwiches at the last minute, or cover and refrigerate them.

Deviled eggs are one of my favorites, but I find most deviled eggs that other people make to be rubbery and bland. There are three tricks to deviled eggs - don't overcook the eggs, boil the eggs the same day you plan to serve them, and make the yolk filling smooth, creamy, and generous. 

12 large eggs
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

In a large pot, cover your eggs with cold water by several inches. Bring pot of cold water to a boil over high heat and let boil for 1-2 minutes. Then turn off heat, set a timer for 15 minutes, and let eggs continue to cook as the water slowly cools down. When the 15 minutes are up, remove the eggs to a bowl of ice water to stop cooking and cool down. Peel the eggs (crack them under water for easiest peeling), halve them, and remove the yolks. With a fork, mash the yolks finely until there are no chunks left and the yolk mixture is powdery. Then add 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard, and 1/4 cup each mayo and sour cream. Mix well. If the mixture seems dry, add another spoonful of mayo and sour cream, until the yolk mixture is fluffy, but not runny. Fill the eggs generously, in the hollow left by the yolk and pile some more on top. I just use a spoon and dollop, but you can fill a pastry bag or a plastic sandwich bag with the end cut off if you want something a little more polished-looking. If desired, garnish with paprika, black pepper, and/or chopped chives, but I like mine plain. Keep cool until ready to serve, and watch them fly off the tray.

Scones are another essential part of a tea party. These are my absolute favorite recipe, straight from the eminent Dorie Greenspan. I didn't make too many changes, except halfway through the recipe I realized I only had room temperature butter. Thankfully, my husband reminded me of the several pounds of butter in our chest freezer, so instead of cutting in cold butter like the recipe calls for, I grated frozen butter and mixed that in, which worked well. These scones have a nutty, toasty, nutmeg-y flavor and using fresh-grated nutmeg really makes a difference, although you shouldn't use quite as much as pre-ground nutmeg

1 egg
1/2 cup cold buttermilk
1 2/3 cup all-purpose flour (I used white whole wheat)
1 1/3 cup old fashioned rolled oats
1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
10 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter (1 stick, plus 2 tablespoons)

Preheat the oven to 400 F. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg and oatmeal. In a larger bowl, whisk all dry ingredients together, than cut in butter (or used grated frozen butter). Add egg mixture and toss with a fork until mostly combined. Knead a few times until the remaining flour is absorbed, then pat into a round and cut into wedges. Bake 20-22 minutes or until golden. Cool for a few minutes before serving.

Serve warm with plenty of salted butter. 

The one lovely thing about using an electric kettle for tea is you can have the kettle right at the table, which is what we did. Cooking at table with electric appliances was common in the 1930s and '40s, especially at breakfast. It was fun to be able to recreate that fashion today! Plus, being able to reheat the water right at the table certainly made a difference in refills. 

In all, this teensy little party was super fun, and I'm definitely having a tea party again! Something about getting out the fancy dishes, fresh flowers, a candle or two, an assortment of tempting little treats, and plenty of hot tea makes everything better. Plus I have plenty of other recipes to share. So many, in fact, I'm considering writing a little tea party cookbook. Would you be interested if I did? 

Have you ever had a tea party? Do you have favorite tea cups and dishes? Tell us in the comments! 

​​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Patrons help keep blog posts like this one free and available to the public. Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

In 1946 the Women's League of the Hollis Presbyterian Church in Hollis, NY published this community cookbook, Hollis Pantry Secrets. Hollis is a neighborhood in Queens County, NY and in the 1940s was a relatively new development of single-family homes that had only been part of New York City since 1898, when it was developed from rural farmland. I was in the process of digitizing the cookbook when I ran across a somewhat familiar name. "Elizabeth Trump Walter." Could it be? Was she related to President Donald Trump? I started digging, but sadly, there wasn't much to find.

Elizabeth was born in 1904 to Elizabeth Christ and Frederick Trump (Sr.), German emigrants to the United States. Frederick (sometimes spelled Friedrich) had made his fortune during the Gold Rush with a hotel specializing in alcohol and suites for prostitutes. He returned to Germany in sometime before 1902, only to run into trouble with the authorities, who deemed his emigration illegal because he had not completed his military service. He met and married Elizabeth Christ in 1902 and they moved to New York City. In 1904, homesick Elizabeth convinced him to return to Germany, but due to Frederick's trouble with the authorities over his lack of military service, they could not stay, and returned to New York City in 1905. It is unclear if Elizabeth the younger was born in Germany or not.

Her younger brother Frederick Jr. was born in 1905 and John in 1907. Frederick Trump Sr. died of Spanish Influenza in 1918, and the family was soon in trouble financially. Elizabeth Christ Trump decided to continue her husband's work in real estate development, and that her children would be her primary employees. Elizabeth the younger was also the eldest child - she left high school to attend secretarial school so that she could be the accountant for the newly formed E. Trump and Son company. Her youngest brother John was to be the company architect. Fred Jr. the builder. 

John left the company early on and Fred Jr., with his mother, built E. Trump and Son into a real estate empire. Derailed by the stock market crash of 1929, when E. Trump and Son officially went out of business, by 1934 Fred Jr. managed to finagle his way into a mortgage-servicing contract, and the Trumps were back in the real estate business. The rest is fairly well-known history, including Trump's housing discrimination. 

But what about Elizabeth? Her history is almost non-existent. She has no Wikipedia page. She isn't even mentioned on her mother's Wikipedia page, despite the fact that Fred Jr. is noted as the "second child" and John the "third." She is mentioned on the Trump family page. We know she married William Walter, who was training to work in a bank, in June of 1929. According to William's 1959 obituary, he was a veteran of World War I who had worked in banks starting as a page boy in 1910. The year he and Elizabeth were married, he was made assistant secretary of the newly formed Manufacturer's Trust. 

Elizabeth apparently continued in her accounting role after marrying William, but it is unclear whether she left in late 1929 when E. Trump and Son went under, and whether she continued to work under Fred Jr. 

Elizabeth and William Walter had two children - William Trump Walter, born in 1931, and John Whitney Walter, born in 1934. Both Elizabeth and William Sr. were highly involved in the Hollis Presbyterian Church. He was an elder, she, a member of the Women's League. So it makes sense that Elizabeth would submit recipes for the 1946 cookbook. 

Here are her recipes: 

The "Party Suggestions" that start on page 125 is a small section that only contains recipes from Elizabeth Trump Walter! All variations on starter salads (with one exception), probably for ladies' luncheons, but possibly also for themed dinner parties, or even children's parties. 

South Sea Island
Place slice of pineapple in center of a bed of shredded lettuce. Fill hole with cream cheese and put a spring of parsley in cheese to represent palm tree. Cut banana in half lengthwise and then in half crosswise – straight bananas are best – and place these on lettuce sea around pineapple island, cut side up. Cut saltines diagonally in half. Each half makes a sail. Insert tooth pick in corner and stick in banan boat. Cut strips of wax paper about ¾ inch by 1 ½ inches. Fringe and tie around chocolate candy dolls for grass skirt and place under palm tree.

Mexican Hayride
Force a Ritz cracker on either side of a toothpick for wheels and axle. Make two sets for each service. Fill lettuce cups with crab meat salad and place on top of two sets of wheels and axles. Force animal crackers on either side of a toothpick. This kames a pair of horses. As many pairs of horses as desired may be used. Place thin strips of green pepper from lettuce cups to team of horses for reins. 

Snow Man
Ice cream cone
Whipped cream
Scoop of vanilla ice cream
3 inch round of sponge cake
Cover sponge cake with whipped cream. – Place scoop of ice cream in center of sponge round. Invert cone on ice cream. Make eyes of melted chocolate and use slice of cherry for mouth. Force whipping cream through tube to make ruffling for collar around face.

Sail Boats
Peel cucumber and cut in half, lengthwise. Scoop out center and mix with salmon salad. Fill mixture in cucumber boat – Place on bed of shredded lettuce for waves. To make sail, cut drinking straw in half. Cut rectangle from stiff white paper and attach to half of straw with scotch tape. Place sail in center of boat.

Easter Eggs in Nests
Place slice of pineapple on small bed of shredded lettuce. Divide cream cheese into five parts. Color each part a different pastel shade, leaving one white. Form cream cheese into small eggs, the size of a robins egg and place in center of pineapple slice.

Circus Salad
Cut a five inch circle from a piece of stiff paper with pinking shears. Cut a slit to center from one side and then put together to form a dome shaped piece for top of tent. Place tuna fish salad in center of plate. Around salad sprinkle Cornflakes or Rice Krispies to represent sawdust. Insert five pretzel sticks around salad and place tent on top of these sticks. 

Her six party suggestions make up the entire "Party Suggestions" chapter. I, personally, would have a hard time cutting saltines in half or forcing toothpicks into crackers, so clearly this sort of thing took a great deal of finesse. 

Elizabeth Trump Walter died on December 4, 1961, at the age of 57, "after a long illness," just two years after her husband William. Her obituary is on page 37 of that day's New York Times, towards the bottom. She pre-deceased her mother Elizabeth Christ Trump by five years. Ironically, Elizabeth Christ Trump does not have an obituary in the New York Times, she is only listed among the deaths recorded on June 9, 1966 - her notice submitted by the Federation of Jewish Philanthropics. 

According to Elizabeth's son John Walter's 2018 obituary, the Walters moved to Manhasset, NY toward the end of their lives. They lived in a retirement home built by the Walters and likely Fred Trump, Jr., but died just a few years later. John begun attending the Congregational Church of Manhasset at his mother's behest. Elizabeth Trump Walter was memorialized with a restored organ at the Congregational Church of Manhassett, NY sometime in recent years. 

Elizabeth Trump Walter rarely shows up in Trump family histories, probably because of her early death compared with the Trump family fortunes. But it was a fascinating project to track down what I could about her. 

The Hollis Pantry Cook Book has more secrets and famous recipe authors to share, so stay tuned for future blog posts. 

Have you ever found a famous person's name in a community cookbook? Tell us in the comments!

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!

Thanks to everyone who joined us live for Food History Happy Hour! We made the 1917 Belmont Cocktail and chatted about January holidays, including the Russian/Soviet Novy God, Twelfth Night, the Swedish Tjuegondag Knut, Robbie Burn's Day, random National Food Holidays, including National Fig Newton Day (today!), National Peanut Butter Brittle Day (my birthday!), and how on earth all those National whatever days got to be decided. Plus, since my birthday is coming up, we discussed birthday history and birthday cake history, as well as some general cake history. 

As those of you who have been following Food History Happy Hour for some time know, I often end up making pink drinks accidentally. But this time, in honor of the new year, and my upcoming birthday, I went looking for something that would be specifically pink! And the Belmont Cocktail came to mind. It's featured in Recipes for Mixed Drinks by Hugo R. Ensslin, published in 1917 and one of my favorite cocktail recipe books. 

The directions aren't super clear. For instance, 2/3 of WHAT of gin? But I've decided that this is likely a ratio - 2 parts gin to 1 part raspberry syrup, and given that the sweet cream measurement is a pony (1 ounce, usually the other side of a jigger, which is 1.5 ounces), here's what I decided to use.

2 ounces gin
1 ounce raspberry syrup
1 ounce cream

Shake with ice, strain, and serve in a pretty cocktail glass. Garnish with a fresh or frozen raspberry if you are so inclined. 

Sadly, this drink was NOT very good. I've since looked up other recipes, which say to use 2/3 of a GLASS of gin and 1/3 of a GLASS of raspberry syrup, which sounds like way too much. I found that while gin and raspberry probably would have been nice together, and raspberry and cream are definitely delicious, the gin was just too overpowering in this cocktail. It would have been much better as a gin fizz with cream. The addition of club soda or seltzer would have smoothed out the flavors. 

I think this was probably my least drinkable cocktail ever for Food History Happy Hour! I was so sad, especially since I had such high hopes. SIGH. Must have been my ratios were off, but even other published recipes, it seems like way too much gin and syrup. Oh well. I'll have to track down something more palatable for February!

• New Year's in Russia can be a bit complicated. Here's an explanation of the chronology of the calendar changes.
• If you'd like to make your own belated Twelfth Night cake, check out this brief history and recipe.
• If you'd like to host your own Burns Night, coming up on January 25th, Scotland has you covered with this Ultimate Guide to Burns Night.
• Glenn asked during the livestream if the Belmont Cocktail was associated with the Belmont Stakes horse race. Although it's possible it was named for the race, it was never one of the "official" cocktails. You can learn more about the three official Belmont Stakes cocktails, with recipes, here. 
• As for national food holidays? Although a few are the result of official Presidential or Congressional proclamation, and more from state and local governments, most are just marketing ploys by food companies and restaurants.

​The Food Historian blog is supported by patrons on Patreon! Join us for awesome members-only content like free digitized cookbooks from my personal collection, e-newsletter, and even snail mail from time to time!