Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Although Valentine's Day fell on a Friday this year, I had the day off from work (because I worked last Sunday). But despite that, I had a fairly lazy day. Slept in, didn't get out of jammies until noon, and then ran errands all afternoon before completing our annual Valentine's Day rite - NOT going out for dinner. 

Yes, that's right. For the first few years of our coupledom, my husband and I got gussied up and tried fancy restaurants with special Valentine's Day meals. It was incredibly expensive and not a great experience. So, a few years ago, I decided that at-home meals were best. 

Of course, typical turn-of-the-last-century holiday meals were often based around a color theme, thanks to home economists. But rather than go the route of pink-tinted mayonnaise and radish roses, I decided that the perfect way to keep things to a very Valentine-friendly red-and-white color scheme was to make a heart-shaped pizza, with red and white heart-shaped toppings. 

I won't give a recipe, largely because I used store-bought dough and store-bought sauce to make it. But I will say prepare to use a whole pound of shredded mozzarella and set your oven to 450 or 475 F for the best pizza baking experience. My last word of advice? Don't grease your pan - use semolina flour to dust the pan and/or your work surface - it makes a lovely crunchy crust, and is traditional. Years ago Chad got me a pizza stone and peel, and although I've only used it a few times, I thought I would give it another go. I normally make two pizzas on two sheet pans and it works great. I always make two pizzas because they're never as big as the kind you get from a pizza parlor and we like to have leftovers.

Lots of semolina flour was in order to make wiggling the raw dough off of the peel and onto the hot stone work, but work it did. The only downside? Because the stone is smaller than a sheet pan, I wasn't able to make the pizza as thin as we like it - and the crust really puffed up. Which wasn't bad, I just prefer it the other way. 

Once we chowed down on some pizza, I decided to bake a cake. But, because I'm me and typically lazy, I thought Lazy Daisy Cake would be perfect. But also because I'm me, and I can never resist tinkering with recipes (and because I'd bought several quarts of fresh strawberries), I added a layer of strawberries to the bottom of the pan. In retrospect, should have mixed them in, but still delicious how it turned out. 

I first learned of Lazy Daisy cake from Marion Cunningham's lovely cookbook, Lost Recipes: Meals to Share with Friends and Family, but it's a 1920s-era staple. I made it for my 1920s Garden Party a few years ago and it was a big hit. But! a 9x13" pan only went so far with that crowd, and people love it, so always make more than you think you'll need. 

Lazy Daisy Cake is a type of hot milk cake - a type of sponge cake that combines whole whipped eggs with baking powder and hot milk to give it a lovely lift and a springy texture. The "lazy" part is two things - first is you don't have to separate the eggs before you whip them (although the mixing is anything but "lazy," especially if you are stubborn and do it by hand like I do). Second is the topping - a mixture of butter, brown sugar, shredded coconut, and heavy cream that gets popped under the broiler to caramelize before serving. Which is far easier than making a frosting and then frosting a layer cake.

It's certainly not as pretty as a frosted layer cake, but it tastes fantastic - well worthy of any Valentine. Of course, if you'd like this the pure way - leave out the strawberries, or serve them cold on the side. My husband likes this with liquid cream AND whipped cream (and, sometimes, so do I - it's that dairy farmer heritage), but just about any dairy topping is delicious.

My version is based on Marion's, but doubled.

4 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter (2 tablespoons, then 6 tablespoons)
at least 1 quart fresh strawberries (optional)
6 tablespoons brown sugar
4 tablespoons heavy cream
1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut (or finely chopped pecans)

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Butter and flour a 9"x13" metal pan (do NOT use glass!). 

Beat eggs and vanilla until thick, then gradually beat in sugar until very thick. Add flour, baking powder, and salt all together, then stir into egg mixture until smooth and thick. 

Heat milk and 2 tablespoons butter in a saucepan over medium heat until butter is just melted. 

Meanwhile, wash, hull, and cut strawberries into quarters (cut the big ones into sixths).

When butter is melted into milk, pour hot into batter and stir well until fully combined. Either stir in strawberries, or place in bottom of pan and pour batter over. Bake immediately for 30-45 minutes or until top is golden brown and springs back when touched.

While cake is baking, take the saucepan from the milk mixture and add remaining butter (6 tablespoons), brown sugar, cream, and coconut (or pecans) and heat until butter and sugar are melted, then remove from heat. Do not boil. When cake is done, turn off oven and turn broiler on low. Spread the top of the hot cake with the coconut mixture, then broil for about a minute (watch it - it burns easily) until the coconut mixture caramelizes. Remove from the oven and let cool before serving with the dairy topping (liquid cream, whipped cream, milk, ice cream) of your choice. Or eat plain. 

What did you do for Valentine's Day? Did you eat at home and cook or bake something special? Tell me in the comments!

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So I had myself a little Medieval-themed birthday. Let's be honest - I wanted to wear a pretty Elven Princess dress and a tiara for my 35th birthday (Middle Ages was definitely a pun that was used). I didn't decorate the house much, and to be honest you're lucky I snapped as many mediocre photos as I did (too busy having fun!).

​Food-wise, I tried to stay away from any Western Hemisphere foods, and to create dishes based on peasant foods, rather than the feast meals of European kings. Some were very ordinary, like store-bought peasant bread and cheese and roasted chicken legs. Some didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped, such as pease porridge with leeks (flavor was good, split peas didn't cook up as smooth as I would have liked - still some crunchy bits). But a few were real knock-outs, so I'm sharing them here.

This one is inspired by a Tamar Adler recipe by the same name, from her book Something Old, Something New. It's almost certainly a 19th or early 20th century recipe, but it SEEMED Medieval, so in it went. I thought it would be pretty good, and it was, but the party guests LOVED it. A surprise hit.

6 hardboiled eggs
2 tablespoons soft butter
1 cup shredded cheese (I used a mixture of sharp cheddar and jarslberg)
6 green onions/scallions, finely sliced
dash olive oil
a tablespoon or two of mayonnaise
juice of half a lemon
salt to taste

Halve the hard boiled eggs to remove the yolks. Mash yolks with butter until they make a smooth paste. Finely mince the egg whites and add to yolk mixture with cheese and onions. Add olive oil to moisten and mix well. Add lemon juice and mayonnaise and mix again. Mixture should be thick - like a pate. Salt to taste and serve with crackers - sturdy ones like rye Wasa or Triscuits are best. 

This is very loosely based on a similar dish from the nation of Georgia, where they love fresh herbs, garlic, and walnuts. I realize now that kidney beans are actually native to the Americas, so not really accurate to Medieval Europe. But still, shockingly delicious. I actually made it again tonight for dinner, and my husband loved it so much he ate nearly half the bowl. Lol. It's best when eaten with something rich and fatty - like the grilled cheese I made tonight, or like the mushroom pasties I made for the party. 

2 cans red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup minced fresh dill
1/2 a bunch fresh parsley
1 generous handful arugula
1-3 cloves garlic (3 if you like it "spicy")
1 cup raw walnuts
more olive oil than you would think
more cider vinegar than you would think

In a small food chopper, process the garlic, parsley, walnuts, olive oil, and cider vinegar (if you don't have a food chopper, mince the garlic and chop the parsley and walnuts before mixing with olive oil and vinegar). Pour over the beans and minced dill, toss with arugula, and serve at room temperature. Taste and add more vinegar if desired. Alternatively, you can add the arugula to the "sauce" with the parsley. Other options include adding fresh basil and/or cilantro - other popular Georgian flavors. But the dill is the real deal, so don't skimp unless you really hate the taste of dill.

I have a lot of vegetarian friends, so instead of making meat pasties, I decided to go with mushrooms. The pastry dough is my go-to for everything and comes from - believe it or not - an old Russian cookie recipe. It's impossible to overwork and although it's more tender than flaky, it's perfect for pasties and slab pies. I made it with half spelt flour so it tasted more authentically peasant-y. 

For the pastry dough (this will make double what you need for the pasties):
1 pound butter, very soft or melted
1 pound farmer cheese or pot cheese
4 cups flour

Cream the butter and cheese, then mix in the flour. Knead until smooth. Let rest while you cook the mushroom mixture.

For the mushroom mixture:
2 pints white button mushrooms
2 pints baby bella mushrooms
6 shallots
1 stick butter
thyme
salt
white wine
lemon juice

In a wide pot (stock pot or dutch oven), melt the butter with the thyme (be generous - mine could have used more) over medium heat. Meanwhile, peel and slice the shallots and add them to the butter. Then rinse and finely mince the mushrooms (this will take a while by hand - feel free to pulse in a food chopper). Cook the mushrooms and shallots in the butter until all the liquid is absorbed (raise heat if necessary), then add white wine and lemon juice in batches, letting the mushrooms absorb between additions. Taste and add salt if necessary. Let cool before filling pastry.

Preheat oven to 425 F. 

Take walnut-sized pieces of dough (about enough to fill your palm when you make a fist) and roll quite thin (not paper thin, but close). Add mushroom mixture, fold round in half, and crimp edges. Place on a large sheet pan and slash the top of the pasty to allow steam to escape. Repeat until the mushroom mixture is gone. This should make about 18 palm-sized pies. Bake 25-35 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown.

With the leftover dough, make a pear custard slab pie!

I was not planning to make this at all, but had some winter (Bosc) pears on hand. Not enough to really fill the pie though, so I added my classic quiche custard ratio spiked with a little sugar and cinnamon. It was a huge hit. I also had some bits of marzipan and candied almonds that I chopped up and added. It seemed Medieval-y enough and everyone loved it.

2 Bosc pears, cored and thinly sliced
half a batch Russian pastry crust (above)
2 eggs
2/3 cup milk
a tablespoon or so of sugar
ground cinnamon to taste
Optional:
bits of marzipan
1/4 cup candied almonds, chopped

Preheat oven to 425 F. Roll the pastry into a sheet large enough to fit a jelly roll pan (1/4 sheet pan). Trim the edges and use the extra dough for the lattice and decorations. Layer the pears in the pan, add marzipan and almonds, if using. Whisk the eggs with the milk, sugar, and cinnamon, then pour over the pears. Add the latticework and bake 30-45 minutes, or until the custard is set and the crust is golden brown.

What Medieval party is complete without candied almonds? This was a super-simple recipe I lifted from the internet. It didn't turn out quite as nicely as I would have liked - the sugar-egg-white mixture made the coating more powdery, which meant lots of wasted powder got left in the pan. And definitely you'll want to use parchment paper on these bad boys, or be prepared to clean up a very stuck-on mess from your sheet pan.

But, again, the party guests LOVED them. And while I didn't get a good stand-alone photo, if you're really curious, you can see them in the corner of the first pear custard slab pie photo (and, y'know, all candied almonds look largely alike). 

1 pound raw shelled almonds
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg white

Preheat oven to 300 F. Whisk egg white until frothy, add almonds and stir to coat, add sugars, cinnamon, and salt, and stir to coat. In a half sheet pan lined with parchment paper, pour the almond mixture out and spread evenly, so that the nuts are all in a single layer. Bake for 30 minutes, then let cool. (I did not stir like the original recipe called for, and it made a big slab.) When fully cool, break apart into individual almonds with hands (if necessary). Eat by the handfuls. 

This is probably the most authentic of all the recipes and it couldn't have been easier. Of course, it helped that I used store-bought marzipan! 

2 pints medjool dates
1 tube marzipan

Cut dates halfway through, lengthwise, and remove the pits. Take a small bit of marzipan and shape into ovals big enough to fit into the center of the date. Close the edges together, but not so much that you can't see the marzipan. Then try not to eat them all. They are VERY sweet, but also an incredibly delicious dessert and they make everyone ask - why did we stop making these? 

Well, dear readers, it seems as though we are in the '20s again, and since "Dry January" seems to be a growing trend, I thought I would look at some historic alternatives to alcohol for those who don't imbibe or those who are taking a break.

Prohibition, the 18th Amendment to the Constitution banning importation, production, sale, and consumption of alcohol in the United States, officially took effect across the country in January, 1920. 

It was a long, long road to the Constitutional amendment. Begun in the late 18th century, the Temperance movement was a response to the increasing consumption of distilled liquor by the general populace. Rum, distilled by slaves from molasses produced by  brutal Caribbean sugar plantations, was flooding the market at the end of the 18th century. Cider, ale, and small beer were common daily beverages. John Adams was known to enjoy hard cider with breakfast. George Washington adored Maderia. All the founding fathers drank at levels that seem excessive by today's standards. And the Whisky Rebellion was just the beginning of American distilling. 

Alcohol was a way to preserve and consume calories (whether from apples or grain) and was known to be safer for drinking than most water. But it had unsavory unintended consequences. For Temperance advocates, alcohol enhanced all of humanity's sins: drunkenness begat violence, both domestic and public, and wasted hard-earned wages while children starved. 

In February, 1751, the famed British satirical artist William Hogarth published a pair of etchings in reaction to the Gin Craze. They were meant to be viewed side-by-side, with "Beer Street" at the left and "Gin Lane" at the right. The etchings were accompanied by the following poem:

​Gin, cursed Fiend, with Fury fraught,
   Makes human Race a Prey.
It enters by a deadly Draught
   And steals our Life away.

Virtue and Truth, driv'n to Despair
   Its Rage compells to fly,
But cherishes with hellish Care
   Theft, Murder, Perjury.

Damned Cup! that on the Vitals preys
   That liquid Fire contains,
Which Madness to the heart conveys,
   And rolls it thro' the Veins.

The pair of images was meant to illustrate the evils of gin consumption in London. In the above image, emaciated drunks line the streets. A drunken woman lets her baby fall to its death. A person has hung themselves in a dilapidated building and other dwellings are falling down. The distillery, pawn shop, and coffin maker are all doing very well and EVERYONE is drinking gin.

Meanwhile, on Beer Street, healthily rotund, industrious people are resting from their day's work to have a beer. The pawn broker's building is a dilapidated ruin, the dwellings in good shape as construction begins on another, and everyone is well-dressed and otherwise in good spirits. This images was accompanied by the following poem: 

Beer, happy Produce of our Isle
Can sinewy Strength impart,
And wearied with Fatigue and Toil
Can cheer each manly Heart.
  
Labour and Art upheld by Thee
Successfully advance,
We quaff Thy balmy Juice with Glee
And Water leave to France.
  
Genius of Health, thy grateful Taste
Rivals the Cup of Jove,
And warms each English generous Breast
With Liberty and Love!

If we were to compare 18th century Britain to America, we might replace gin with rum (with its problematic connections to slavery), and beer with hard cider, the drink of choice for thousands of colonists and later American citizens. William Henry Harrison won the 1840 presidential election by running as the "log cabin and cider" candidate - meaning a Western pioneer, the better to appeal to rural voters against the much-maligned Martin Van Buren, of upstate New York, who lost his reelection campaign. 

But while whiskey, rum, and "fortified" wines like Madeira and port remained popular beverages throughout the 18th and 19th century, alcohol consumption remained as a problem for women and children. Although many Temperance advocates initially just targeted distilled spirits, soon beer and wine and indeed, any alcohol at all, was decried as the root of many evils.

Many abolitionists were also Temperance advocates. Lyman Beecher, father to cookbook author Catherine Beecher and her more famous author sister, Harriet Beecher Stowe, was an early Temperance advocate. Connected to a religious revival in America as part of the Second Great Awakening, Temperance gained traction in communities throughout the United States. 

The above image is a 19th century analog to the Hogarth images. At left, a healthy-looking family kneels before a man who is perhaps a minister. The angel of Temperance with her anti-alcohol pledge floats down on a cloud, with cupids and a cornucopia of prosperity. In the background, a new and prosperous looking church At the right, a drunkard, bottle in hand, sprawls on the floor. His overworked wife and starving children huddle in the background, with the little girl praying to the glorious angel. Sad looking shacks appear behind them, with a mob of people in the street. 

​After the Civil War, the fight for Temperance continued. Throughout the 19th century, towns, counties, and even states held referendums on whether or not to go "dry." Some advocates installed drinking fountains in public squares in cities around the country. The Women's Christian Temperance Union, one of the strongest proponents of Temperance, formed in 1874. In 1900, Carrie Nation took to violence, chopping up saloons with a hatchet, to try to suppress alcoholism. In 1913, the federal income tax was instated. For the first time, the federal government had a form of tax income that did NOT come directly from the sale of alcohol, which had previously been the main source of tax income. 
​
During WWI, the Temperance movement and the Prohibitionists used the threat of wartime and even the need to conserve grain as a reason to instate Prohibition. 

Here, the threat of alcoholism and "hardened liver" is compared to the deaths caused by the common house fly. At the bottom, the flyer calls for a Constitutional Amendment. Published in 1917, this flyer was created at the outbreak of World War I.

Although the United States was not at war when the above image was published in Puck, it nevertheless made a case to reinstate the Army canteen, where beer and soft drinks were sold. Congress had apparently disbanded them by grace of the Women's Christian Temperance Movement - illustrated here by a hysterical older woman in blue and accompanied by an elderly minister and, in the rear, a "timid legislator." The comparison is made between an Army-sponsored canteen and a public "dive," where soldiers drink to wrack and ruin and can consort with the prostitute implied by her red dress and shoes in the lower right hand corner. 

This illustrates that some people still fought to keep beer and hard cider as a part of daily life, even as public opinion against distilled spirits waxed to a frenzy. Thirty-six states did, indeed, ratify the 18th Amendment on January 16, 1919. It read, "After one year from the ratification of this article the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited." Prohibition, as it came to be known, went into effect on January 16, 1920. 

Prohibition came to represent government overreach into peoples' daily lives and the criminalization of alcohol allowed organized crime to flourish in the 1920s, despite the best efforts of police. Gangsters like the infamous Al Capone, wielding machine guns they learned to use in the First World War, made fortunes off of illegal distilleries, speakeasies, and other criminal enterprises, all while dodging federal taxes. Well, at least until the Feds catch up with you, right Al? 

The wealthy could afford to keep consuming booze (often from the wine cellars amassed on their private estates) as police and prosecutors largely looked the other way. The poor and middle class risked their lives on bathtub gin, wood alcohol, and methylated spirits (also known as denatured alcohol) which caused blindness or even death. The illegality meant that alcohol production was unregulated and therefore dangerous to human health. 

Prohibition was ultimately a failure. The stock market crash of 1929 and subsequent Great Depression left many people in severe economic (and mental) distress. It was repealed on December 5, 1933, with the ratification of the 21st Amendment, which specifically repealed the 18th. For many, the return of the ability to self-medicate with alcohol helped temper the despair of the Depression, although it likely ruined as many lives as it helped.

But while romanticized notions of the "Roaring Twenties" continue today, we can learn from the problems that Temperance sought to solve. Absenteeism and incarceration both declined during Prohibition. Alcohol consumption overall did decline in the 20th century, thanks in large part to the Temperance movement. 

Today, more and more people are reassessing their relationship with alcohol. In 2006, food writer John Ore coined the term "Drynuary" to describe what he and his wife considered to be a post-holiday alcohol detox. "Drynuary" or "Dry January" has been embraced by an increasing number of people and while the peer pressure to consume alcohol in social settings still exists, it is becoming more acceptable to abstain in public. Are we on the brink of a new Temperance movement? Probably not, but interesting to see the historical parallels. 

As we are in full swing of "Dry January," and as more people are embracing temperance, we can look to the past for interesting non-alcoholic beverages to tempt our palates. 

The nice thing about having an extensive library is that it is easy to do research when I want to - I just head upstairs to my little office and library, tucked up under the eaves of our little house. I pulled a couple of 1920s cookbooks that revealed some fascinating recipes.

Coffee and tea were the most common alcohol replacers in polite society, but a number of fruit-based beverages and punches were also popular. Of course, most of them are very heavy on the sugar. The rise of soda fountains in the 1900s was in part a direct response to Temperance - it was a wholesome place for young people, women, and families to meet and socialize. It also meant that many Americans were replacing the vice of alcohol with what we know today to be the vice of sugar. 

The first book I perused was not this one, but I thought I would start here because it is the oldest of the 1920s cookbooks I looked at and its recipes were among the most interesting. Good Housekeeping's Book of Menus, Recipes, and Household Discoveries was published in 1922. 

Don't these sound delightful? "Apple Tree Dulcet" in particular is a brilliant name, although it's much more of a dessert than a beverage.

"Gingerade," made with fresh or "green" ginger root also sounds delightful, if spicy.

Of these I think the Grapefruit Punch sounded the most delicious. I love both grapefruit and maraschino cherries, but have never had them together. I often drink half grapefruit juice, half ginger ale as a bitter-sweet winter tonic. 

2 cupfuls water
3/4 cupful sugar
1 cupful grapefruit juice
1/2 cupful grapefruit pulp
juice of 1 lemon
1/4 cupful maraschino cherries
mineral water

Combine the water and sugar, boil one minute, and let cool. Meanwhile, extract the grapefruit juice and to this add the grapefruit pulp and the lemon-juice. Allow to chill thoroughly and then add the maraschino cherries cut in halves. Dilute with mineral ice-water and serve very cold.

I love collecting community cookbooks - the earlier the better. This particularly nice one from Utica, NY (which is also where I found it), has just one page of beverages. Published in 1924, it includes a homemade version of what was likely a soda fountain drink: Strawberry Flip. Note that it calls for only one TABLESPOON of vanilla ice cream. Per serving, of course. 

The one that seems the most interesting to me is the first Fruit Punch, by Bessie C.B. Capron. 

1 cup sugar
1 cup very strong tea (black)
2/3 cup orange juice
1/3 cup lemon juice
1 pint ginger ale
1 pint appolinaris

This makes enough for 10 glasses.

Okay, this probably needs a little translation for most people. To make the tea very strong, steep 2-3 bags in one cup of boiling water. The orange and lemon juice should be fresh-squeezed. And the ginger ale is probably better if you can find something a little stronger than your garden variety - a craft ginger ale would do nicely. And appolinaris? That's a German type of sparkling mineral water. Known as the "Queen of Table Waters," Appolinaris was a brand name mineral water discovered in the 1850s that is still around today. Although these days it's owned by Coca-Cola. 

This recipe is actually somewhat similar to 18th century punches that called for sugar, citrus juices, black tea, and sparkling water, albeit with the addition of strong spirits like rum and brandy (see: Fish House Punch). 

Marion Lockhart's Standard Cookbook is a teensy tiny little hard cover (hence the fingers to hold it open). Published in 1925, it has a wide variety of punches, which is lovely. I do love malted milk, but I'm wary of raw eggs, so the "Egg Malted Milk" is not one I would probably attempt. However, the "Currant and Raspberry Punch" sounds divine. 

Take 1/2 glass (about 3-4 ounces) currant jelly and dissolve in 1 cup boiling water. To this add 1 cup raspberry sirup and 1 pint fresh water. Pour over ice in punch-bowl, then add 1 quart charged (sparkling) water.

This makes about 2 quarts and seems like the perfect pink party punch to serve for Valentine's Day or a girly party. Despite the syrup and jelly, it also probably isn't too sweet, as you're cutting about 1 pint of sweet stuff with 1 pint of water and a quart of sparkling water. 

And last but not least! The New Delineator Recipes. Published in 1929, this one comes with a few quite lovely photos. "Reception Chocolate" looks delicious and would be perfect for a winter hygge party. 

"Veranda Punch" listed here is very similar to the "Fruit Punch" listed above. 

Of all of these recipes, "Grape High Ball" sounds the most interesting, in part because it uses Niagara grapes. If you live in the Northeast, you can still find both Concord and Niagara grapes at some U-Pick orchards. If you've never had Niagara grapes, I recommend trying them if you see them. A dusky golden color, neither they nor the classic deep purple Concords are much like today's table grapes. Niagara grapes are very soft, with slippery-sweet insides and seeds. But they have a lovely flavor - almost perfumed, and would make a sophisticated beverage. 

For sake of ease, I am combining the two recipe instructions.

Wash grapes and boil [until] skin, pulp, and seeds separate. Press through a jelly bag and to every pint of juice add one-half cup of sugar. Boil for twenty minutes and chill.

​In glasses half-filled with shaved ice, add equal parts syrup and charged (sparkling) water. Lemon is an attractive addition.

Well, that's all for now folks. Are any of you attempting a Dry January? If so, what do you normally drink for festive occasions? Share in the comments! 

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​This article, from the December, 1942 issue of Good Housekeeping magazine, illustrates the first Christmas under rationing for Americans. Although the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, rationing did not go into effect until 1942.

Good Housekeeping set the standard for women's magazines in the period, and had the still-famous "Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval" to its name. But in this instance, the magazine, as many other publications in the period, served as an arm of the government's propaganda machine. Here, the article outlines the Basic 7 nutrition recommendations and gives advice for how to shop around shortages and rationing. 

The article has no author, which is another clue that it probably came straight from Uncle Sam's on-staff nutritionists and home economists. 

"Now for our holiday menus, with recipes.
DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Luncheon 
*Hamburger Shortcakes
Carrot Cole Slaw
Fruit or * Coffee Almond Jelly
Molasses Cookies Milk

Dinner
Hot Vegetable-Juice Cocktail
*Cheese Bread Pudding
Broccoli Tossed Lima-Bean and Beet Salad
Bread Sticks
* Deep-Dish Quince-Apple Pie
Milk

CHRISTMAS DAY 
Dinner
* Cranberry-Juice Cocktail
* Carrot-Cheese Hors d'Oeuvres
Roast Turkey
*Sweet-Potato Stuffing
Giblet or Mushroom Gravy
* Brussels Sprouts with Onions
String-Bean Succotash
Celery      Pickles      Pickled Fruits
Enriched Bread
* Steamed Christmas Puddings with
* Strawberry Sauce
Roasted Walnuts       Coffee

Evening Snack (For Those Who Wish It)
Oyster Stew
Toasted Crackers
Fruit Bowl
Coffee

DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS
Luncheon
* Luncheon Rarebit Sandwiches
Celery
Chocolate-Flavored Milk Drink

Dinner
Sauteed Lamb's Liver
* Mashed Potato-Turnips
Canned or Quick-Frozen Peas
Whole-Wheat Bread
*Jellied Grape Salad
Milk      Coffee

SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS 
Dinner
* Turkey Fricassee on Crumb Noodles
* Vinaigrette Spinach
Baked Acorn Squash
Enriched Bread
Canned Cranberry Sauce
* Marble Ice Cream
Coffee

Supper
Hot Canned Consomme Madrilene
Canned-Tongue and Lettuce Sandwiches
Cookies
Milk       Coffee

​*Recipe given in article" 

I won't transcribe all of the recipes here (there are so many of them!), but most are typical of the 1940s and designed to use up leftovers (Turkey Fricassee on Crumb Noodles) or organ meats like liver or canned tongue. The meals themselves, except for dinner Christmas Day, are also very simple, emphasizing starches and vegetables livened up with cheese and a few interesting desserts. 

The "Dinner" served on Christmas Day was likely intended to be a noon or afternoon meal. Hence the "Evening Snack" of oyster stew ("for those who wish it" - in case they're too full still from dinner) - an American Christmas tradition (usually using canned oysters) dating back to the Victorian era. 

Conspicuously absent from this menu is the plethora of Christmas cookies we are now so used to. But perhaps that's a good thing. Perhaps if we adopted the 1942 stick-to-your-ribs steamed Christmas pudding, it might leave us too full for cookies anyway.

How do your holiday dinner traditions line up to 1942? Do you have any traditional ways of dealing with leftovers? 

I'm trying to convince my family to do "snack Christmas" this year and avoid the big meal. There are only a few of us, so it doesn't make sense to cook so many dishes. Everyone prefers my mother-in-law's dill dip with rye bread, my brother-in-law's hot and cheesy jalapeno dip with Ritz crackers, and other snacks like Christmas cookies, port wine cheese-stuffed celery, and salted nuts, anyway. We'll see how successful I am!

Many thanks to Cornell University for digitizing ALL of Good Housekeeping, plus a bunch of other amazing food- and home-economics-related titles at the Home Economics Archive. 

One last follow-up to the Very Vintage Halloween Party! I wanted to share my recipe for Pumpkin Cranberry Bread Pudding. My husband loves bread pudding, but it can be a tricksy thing. Lots of recipes call for baking it in a water bath (too much work!), others end up making a bread pudding that is dry or too dense or otherwise flavorless. 

This recipe I adapted from my conventional bread pudding recipe, which calls for cinnamon and raisins. The key is to soak all the bread without being too runny, so add more milk if you need to.

2 1/2 cups milk
1/4 cup butter
3 eggs
1 can (15 oz) pumpkin puree (or 2 cups homemade pureed pumpkin)
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon pumpkin spice (or cinnamon with a pinch of clove and nutmeg)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 loaf of unsliced bread (I prefer day-old challah)
1/2 cup dried sweetened cranberries

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Heat the butter and milk over medium heat until the butter is just melted (stir occasionally to accelerate the melting). Remove from heat.

Tear the bread into bite-sized pieces and fill a 9"x13" ungreased pan (I prefer glass) 

In a separate bowl, mix the eggs, sugar, spices, and pumpkin. Stir in cranberries, then fold in bread in stages until all is well-soaked. Add more milk at this stage if you need to. 

Pour the bread mixture into the ungreased pan and bake 40-45 minutes, or until a knife inserted 1 inch from the edge comes out clean. No need for a water bath or to cover it! 

Serve warm or cold with plenty of whipped cream. 

The best part about this bread pudding? Not only was it quick and easy to make the morning of the Halloween party, it also made SEVERAL converts to bread pudding. Lol. A number of people at the party mentioned that they either didn't like bread pudding and liked this one, or that it was the best bread pudding they'd ever had. Plus, it doesn't suffer much from storage in the fridge (if anything it just gets more moist) and is perfect for just about any fall gathering, including, (gasp!) Thanksgiving!

​So hope you enjoy this recipe and happy fall baking!

Halloween is a distinctly American holiday. Although it may have its roots in Great Britain, lots of wonderful traditions started right here in the U.S. In particular, Halloween parties became very popular in the 1920s, helped in part by the work of a crepe paper company called the Dennison Manufacturing Company. 

Starting in the 1920s they published a series of "Bogie Books," which were part advertisement, part instruction manual on how to use their products to craft your own Halloween decorations, costumes, and party favors to throw the perfect party. Few Bogie books have been digitized, as they are insanely popular collector's items, as are the paper goods the Dennison company produced. However, via the Library of Congress, the Internet Archive has a digitized copy you can peruse! Chock full of fantastic images like this one: 

There are other Halloween party-planning gems out there as well. Mary Blain's "Games for Hallow-e'en" from 1912 is lovely for party ideas, with lots of historic divination games perfect for this time of year. ​

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. ​I love to decorate, dress up, and feed people. So it's no surprise that throwing a vintage-inspired Halloween part was right up my alley. When I said I wanted to dress up as a spiritualist medium, a friend suggested making the whole party 1920s and '30s themed! So I did. Costumes in the theme were required and some folks really outdid themselves.

Sadly (or perhaps, wonderfully), most of my guests are usually so busy chatting and eating and having a good time, that we never have the chance to do games or activities! I did take some inspiration from the Bogie Books, however, as paper decorations definitely played a leading role.

We had:

• Veggie tray - ranch dip with orange peppers, carrot chips, orange cherry tomatoes, sliced English cucumber, celery, and the extremely delicious - very juicy and crisp - sliced daikon radish
• Sharp cheddar, colby jack, and habanero cheddar with port wine cheddar spread with crackers
• Pumpernickel, olive batard, and charcoal (!) bread with homemade black olive tapenade (ripe, kalamata, and oil-cured black olives in the food chopper with olive oil and a little balsamic vinegar)
• Fruit tray - jumbo blueberries, blackberries, black grapes, and ripe figs with sliced apples, bosc pears, dried mango, and dried apricots with a fruit dip made of Icelandic skyr yogurt and marshmallow fluff
• Roasted garlic and white bean dip and hot blue cheese dip with blue corn chips and sweet potato chips
• Smoked almonds, rosemary marcona almonds, and harissa peanuts
• Assorted vintage candy including cow tails, Abba Zabba, peanut butter crunch, candy corn, circus peanuts, and Milky Way bars
• Pumpkin cranberry bread pudding with plenty of whipped cream
• Persephone punch - homemade Hedgerow gin with pomegranate blueberry juice and pomegranate seltzer
• Fallen Apple punch - sweet cider, cranberry juice, and ginger ale

The smash hit of the evening was blue cheese dip with sweet potato chips. And everyone, even people who claimed not to like bread pudding, loved my bread pudding. Because I make the best. :D

It was a bit of a scramble, but I was able to get all the fruit and veggies chopped and all the dips made (with a few exceptions) in like, two hours. Three, if you include the time to make and bake the bread pudding.

Stay tuned for more recipes, but here are two: the easy-peasy blue cheese dip (seen here in the cute white pumpkin baking dish), and the roasted garlic white bean dip.

No messy combining mixing cold cream cheese with this one. Just heat, stir, and serve!

3 packages (16 oz.) neufchatel cream cheese
2 packages (8 oz.) Castelano or other very soft creamy blue cheese (or gorgonzola dolce)
about a handful shredded mozzarella cheese

Place blocks of cream cheese, blue cheese, and mozzarella in an oven proof dish. Bake at 350 F, uncovered, until cheese is soft and melty. Stir thoroughly to combine. Serve hot or room temp with plenty of sweet potato chips. 

Full disclosure: I tried to "roast" garlic cloves overnight in the crock pot and it mostly did NOT work. Even on low. But no time called for desperate measures. Cloves got hard/almost burnt. Worked well enough for the dip, though. I just fished the crunchy ones out before sending through the food chopper. I would recommend making roasted garlic in the oven or using whole heads of garlic instead. 

This also makes a LOT. So feel free to cut the recipe in half if you're not feeding a crowd.

2-4 heads of garlic, roasted and removed from skins
2 double cans cannellini beans, drained
olive oil

Process the beans and roasted garlic in stages with the olive oil until smooth. Add to crockpot and keep warm. Serve warm or room temperature with blue corn chips or pita chips.

If you wanted to spice things up a bit, some dried thyme or fresh basil or parsley (or all three!) would not be remiss. 

If you want more party ideas, recipes, and other vintage food fun, consider becoming a member of The Food Historian! You can join online here, or you can join us on Patreon! Members get access to members-only sections of this website, special updates, plus discounts on future events and classes. And you'll help support free content like this for everyone. Join today!

Inspired by my Patreon patrons (please join us!), I'll be occasionally posting Meatless Monday historic recipes. I ran across a gem of a website with scanned pages of all the recipes from Kitchen Klatter Magazine. The magazine was an outcropping of a radio show by the same name, hosted by Iowa homemaker Leanna Field Driftmier. On the air for sixty-one years, Kitchen Klatter is thought to be the longest-running show of its kind in the U.S. Anyone interested in doing some research on Driftmier can find her papers as well as cookbooks and other materials at the University of Iowa Library. 

I have an interest in homemaker radio shows, but my World War I research isn't quite ready to let go of me just yet, so more in-depth research is on the horizon. Sadly, it doesn't seem as though the Kitchen Klatter radio program survived, although I could be wrong. Few, if any of them, have been digitized. Although oral history collections and historic film are often preserved through digitization, historic radio is more neglected, particularly homemaker shows. 

At any rate, this particular recipe page (listed above) is from 1944, toward the end of the Second World War. In my opinion, cottage cheese is completely under appreciated in modern American cooking, which is why I always enjoy finding historic recipes for it. High in protein and generally low in fat, it is creamy and delicious. Cottage cheese, and its siblings ricotta and farmer cheese, are well-used in many European cuisines, particularly in Eastern Europe. 

Note that the recipe calls for "cottage cheese, drained dry." Cottage cheese naturally has creamy whey in it, but for this recipe you need to drain the whey off or use farmer cheese, which is simply cottage cheese that already has the whey drained off. To drain, line a sieve with cheesecloth or a coffee filter, place it in a bowl to catch the whey, and add the cottage cheese. Cover and refrigerate for several hours or overnight. Before using, squeeze out any additional whey. 

Frying "sausages" like this will require a fair amount of oil - preheat a pan (I prefer a cast iron skillet) and cover the bottom with enough oil to run when the pan is tipped. Or, add even more to shallow fat fry the sausages.  

Serve with mashed or roasted root vegetables and a green vegetable, or, for a more breakfast sausage treatment, serve with pancakes, french toast, or fried eggs. 

As a bonus for the vegans out there, I made up a similar recipe last year using canned cannellini beans and oatmeal. Here's an approximation of the recipe (I make it differently every time). 

There are lots of "mock sausage" recipes that have been around since very early in American history. The sage is the primary suggestion of sausage, so don't leave it out, unless you prefer herbed white bean cakes to mock sausage. 

Now that the colder weather is back with us, I think I may just attempt the cottage cheese recipe. Do you have any historic vegetarian recipes to share? What have you been cooking lately?

"The Food That Built America" just finished up last night, and I also reached over 200 likes on Facebook! So as a reward to my new friends and faithful followers, I thought I'd take a look at the Kellogg Brothers, who show up in all three episodes.

Granola was the cereal that started it all. In the late 1870s, Dr. John Harvey Kellogg used it as part of his health regimen for his sanitarium patients. Based on a twice-baked unleavened bread made of wheat and oat flour, the cereal was then hammered into chunks and soaked in milk before serving. He initially called it "Granula."

There was just one problem - there already was a "Granula." This was not covered in the History Channel series, but Kellogg was actually threatened with a lawsuit in 1881 by James Caleb Jackson, of upstate New York. Like Kellogg, Jackson was influenced by Seventh Day Adventist Ellen G. White, who advocated for vegetarianism and other health reforms. But at his hygenic water cure spa in upstate New York, Jackson developed "Granula," based on a twice-baked plain graham flour biscuit (graham flour is un-separated ground whole wheat). He rolled the flour-and-water mixture into sheets, which were baked, then broken into pieces and baked again, and then broken into smaller pieces, similar to the Grape-Nuts that C.W. Post would eventually develop. He invented "Granula" in 1863 - fifteen years before Kellogg.  

In response to the threat of lawsuit, Kellogg simply changed the name to "Granola." 

Both Jackson and Kellogg were likely inspired by simple rusks or zwieback or even hardtack. Dating back to ancient times, twice-baked breads were shelf-stable, durable, and long lasting. Hardtack (sometimes called a "cracker" or "ship's biscuit") was a common sight on merchant vessels and naval ships alike and was common soldier fare from the Revolutionary War to the Civil War. Made of just flour, water, and salt, hardtack was, well, hard. It was meant to be softened in coffee, stew, or water before it could be eaten. But its hardness made it the ideal, stable staple for long voyages without refrigeration.

Rusks, on the other hand, were more likely to be made with sugar, butter, and eggs and were much closer to our most familiar modern incarnation - biscotti. Some rusks, like zwieback, were even yeast-leavened sweet breads that were twice baked. 

It stands to reason then, that Kellogg's original "Granola" was a mixture of whole grain wheat flour (graham) and oat flour, mixed with water (no salt or sugar), and twice-baked before crumbling into what would become "cereal." Having made hardtack myself, I can inform you that the trick is in the kneading - as you develop the gluten in the flour it smooths out and becomes easier to work and shape (and roll!). 

While no known recipe for Kellogg's original "Granola" exists, I did dig up a recipe for "Granula" from the 1906 Inglenook Cookbook, published by the Church of the Brethren, a non-demoninational Christian sect. Apparently hard-baked plain cereals continued their trend of association with religious organizations. You can find more about the Inglenook Cookbook in all its incarnations here. In true, early 20th century style (and like many community-based cookbooks from this time period), the instructions are written in paragraph form.

Granula
Get good graham flour, take pure spring or soft water, nothing else, and knead to a stiff dough. Roll and mould as for biscuit (not as thick). Bake thoroughly in a hot oven. When well done, or over done, remove and cool, then cut each piece in halves and put back in a warm baker and dry to a crisp, not brown or burnt. A yellow brown will not hurt. Now crush or break in small bits and grind them as you would coffee. You now have one of the best health foods known. It can be served in various ways. Soaked in good, rich milk is the best way to eat it. Some like to add a little sugar, some a little salt (but don't add salt when you bake it, it spoils the flavor). Some eat it with fruit. It makes a nice cold Sunday dish and is always ready. It can be used in puddings and mixed with bread for dressings. We have made and used this hygienic food for 23 years, and know its merits. The biscuits, or graham crackers, warm from the oven, well baked, with crispy crust, make a delightful bread. We have a small hand mill to grind them. If you cannot get good graham flour, if it is too rough with bran, add a little white flour, or sift the coarsest bran out. Graham made of white wheat is best. - Sister Amanda Witmore, McPherson, Kans.

While granula and similar incarnations continued to be eaten into the twentieth century, what we know as Granola today  is not really a direct descendant of Kellogg's granola (or Jackson's granula). In 1900 a Swiss physician named Dr. Maximillian Bircher-Benner developed another type of grain cereal called Bircher-muesli (later shortened to muesli). Adhering to Bircher-Benner's beliefs that raw foods were the most healthful, muesli primarily contains uncooked rolled oats, with nuts, seeds, and fruits added in. Served plain or with milk, it was originally intended as an accompaniment to meals or a light supper, not breakfast. 

In 1946, Hollywood health guru Gaylord Hauser published several recipes for "The Bircher-Muesli Breakfast" in his Gaylord Hauser Cookbook. Hauser had studied in Switzerland and was likely heavily influenced by Bircher-Brunner in his own health style, as he often emphasized fresh fruits and vegetables and even juicing. Muesli started to become known among health food enthusiasts after the Second World War, in part thanks to Hauser and others like him who visited Switzerland.

Health guru Adelle Davis, however, is credited with introducing what we know today as "granola" to the masses in the 1960s.  Although the Adelle Davis Foundation credits her 1947 book Let's Cook It Right with first mentioning granola, I can't find any reference in my copy. In fact, her short chapter on cereals makes no mention of cold, crunchy cereals like granola and contains just one recipe - for how to cook hot cereals (p. 427-439). Adelle is purported to have introduced granola as a snack, but her section on snacks in her introduction to Let's Cook It Right makes no mention of granola - instead suggesting fruit, milk, cheese and crackers, or nuts as good "midmeal" options (p. 17-22). Regardless of how she introduced it, Adelle is likely one of several people to discover that by combining rolled oats with nuts, dried fruit, oil and honey, you get a delicious crunchy baked snack. Her "grandaddy" recipe is below:

Adelle Davis’ Grandaddy of Granolas

5 cups rolled oats
1 cup each of chopped almonds, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, shredded coconut, soy flour, powdered milk (preferably non-instant), and wheat germ.
1 cup warmed honey
1 cup oil, any kind

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Combine dry ingredients. Combine honey and oil and drizzle over the dry ingredients tossing and coating. Spread the mixture on 2 cookie sheets and bake for 30 to 45 minutes until golden. Makes up to 12 cups, depending what you add or leave out.

Eventually, people stopped eating granola out of hand and started pouring milk on top and eating in the morning. Of course, these days, modern granola is far more like Adelle's than Kellogg's (or Jackson's) in that it is heavily sweetened and usually quite fattening. But because of its health guru and sanitarium past and its association with hiking and other outdoor pursuits in the 1960s and '70s, we tend to associate it with healthy food, even though it is anything but.  

If you'd like to learn more about Gaylord Hauser and Adelle Davis, take a listen to my podcast, History Bites: Full of Pep, the Controversial Quest for a Vitamin-Enriched America, Part 2. 

So that's the end of my reward post for making it to 200+ likes on Facebook. MaryAnn - are you satisfied? :) I hope you enjoyed this post. If you did, please consider becoming a patron on Patreon to support this and other food history blog posts, podcasts, videos, and more. 

This week's #WorldWarWednesday post comes from Food Historian fan and First World War researcher and food conservation reenactor Sandra Dunlap, who sent me this gem of a recipe. I thought it would be a good follow-up to last week's post on conserving wheat.

Tested Recipe No. 9 - Rice Flour Sponge Cake
100% Wheat Substitute

4 eggs
2  tablespoons lemon juice
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup rice flour

Separate the whites and yolks of the eggs; beat yolks until thick and lemon colored, then add the lemon juice and salt. Add sugar and beat until light. Fold in the well beaten whites of eggs and the sifted flour and bake in a moderate oven.
Washington, April, 1918.

If you'd like to replicate it yourself, and Sandra and her daughter did, you'll need a few extra instructions. A "moderate oven" is 350 F, and Sandra and her daughter used an 8" round cake pan. And those egg whites will likely need to be beaten into stiff peaks. As for the unmentioned baking time? As Sandra recalls, it took about 45 minutes. 

These sorts of recipe cards and recipe booklets were extremely common during the First World War as a way for ordinary people to try to conserve wheat, which was in short supply and needed to be sent overseas to feed the Allies and American soldiers. 

Rice flour was not a common ingredient in American kitchens in 1918, but sponge cake certainly was. American housewives would have been very familiar with the basics of making a sponge cake and these simple cakes would either be served with just cream and fruit or might be cut up to make a trifle or other, fancier dessert. During wartime, because sugar was to be avoided, perhaps the cream would be sweetened with honey or maple sugar. Granulated sugar was necessary to make a sponge cake, however, which is why it is not omitted from this recipe. Any frosting was more likely to be a glaze or made with vegetable shortening than butter, which is also not needed for sponge cake. Conveniently for those who are gluten intolerant or who have celiac, this cake is not only 100% wheat free, it's also 100% gluten free! 

Although it's not in the title, Sandra called this a lemon sponge cake, and given that lemon is the most prominent flavor, it stands to reason that the cake would taste a little of lemon, too. I can imagine this being very nice with raspberry jam and a little whipped cream. Happy historic eating!

If you enjoyed this installment of #WorldWarWednesdays, consider becoming a Food Historian patron on Patreon! Members get to vote for new blog post and podcast topics, get access to my food library, research advice, and more!

Remember my post about George Washington and cherries in February? It's been one of my most popular. And while yes, you can totally still make walnut pie or have pickled walnuts with cheese and Madeira in February, you can also take the time right now to make yourself some Cherry Bounce.

What is cherry bounce, you ask? It's basically brandy, cherries, and sugar, and it was a favored 18th century drink. My in-laws have a now quite grown up sour cherry tree (Montmorency, I think) that was just LOADED with sour cherries when we were up the other weekend. Sour cherries, also known as sour pie cherries, are not as sour as, say, rhubarb, but definitely need a little sugar as they are nowhere near as sweet as the sweet black or Queen Anne cherries you often find in grocery stores this time of year. They're also far more delicate, so if you're going to pick them, please pick them with the stem on, unless you plan to process them right away. 

Martha Washington's recipe is available thanks to the Mount Vernon estate, but I didn't have 10 pounds of cherries, and while mine probably weren't Morellos, Montmorencies are a sub-genus of Morellos. I also thought 3 cups of sugar to 4 cups of brandy was pretty high. That's borderline syrup territory, for my taste. Considering I wanted to use this cherry bounce as a sipping liquor or in cocktails, I reduced the sugar. I also wanted to taste some of that summer flavor, so I left out the spices. 

Here's what I used:
1 colander sour cherries (a little more than 1 quart, pitted and stemmed - feel free to use more)
a little more than 1 cup sugar
1 liter smooth brandy (not the expensive kind, but not the cheapest either)

Place 1/2 cup sugar in each of two quart jars. Pit the cherries and divide equally between the jars (you'll get about a pint for each). The easiest way to do this, since sour cherries are so soft, is just to squeeze the pits out over the jars, to make sure you catch all the juice. Discard the pits. This is also easier if you use a canning funnel for each jar, which helps with the splatters. Because Montmorency cherries have yellow flesh, if you wear dark clothing, the spattering won't stain. 

Once the cherries are done, add 2 cups of brandy to each jar. You'll have a little left over, so just divide the remainder between the two jars. I added another couple of tablespoons of sugar to each, because I had room. Screw the mason jar lids on and shake every hour or so until the sugar is dissolved. Then let rest in a cool dark place, shaking occasionally, until February. I left the cherries in, and intend to either serve one with each glass, or strain them out and cook them in more sugar and serve over vanilla ice cream (Thomas Jefferson's favorite). 

Funnily enough, although the mixture was brown last night, by morning it was bright red and the cherries were already starting to lose their color. 

We'll see how it turns out. I might regret not adding more sugar or cherries, as sugar tends to mellow out alcohol, but then again, I might not! I'll give an update for President's Day 2020, when I'll invite some friends over for cherry bounce, walnuts, and ice cream!