From Elusive Giants to Tipsy Squire
Via Excuses, Libraries, Civil War, Poetical Cookbooks, Parkin & Horseradish
Hello loveliest of readers,
How are you on this particularly warm Tuesday for mid October? Hopefully not excited waiting for a newsletter about Shropshire folklore that I promised last week because I have a confession to make. I did start reading the book (volume 1 of 3) and when I do get to share it with you it will be a bumper letter full of giants at the very least. However, we still need to get to my confession: I love libraries. That’s not the confession, the confession is that once books come into my house I’m very reluctant to let them back out again. I feel that they have found a home with all the other much loved books, This is unfortunately not very compatible with libraries who quite rightly feel that they own the books and would like them back at some point. So I only borrow books from places where I get to borrow long term, like a full academic year. The only problem with this is that they also occasionally ask for them back for people with real research needs and that is what happened this week. This is a very long winded way of saying that I only had a week to read a library book so I didn’t have time to read about Shropshire folklore again. This is a teaser picture for next time:
The library book however was fascinating, it was Recipes for Reading by Anne Bower and contains a series of essays about community cookbooks and I’m so glad I was pushed into reading it. Community Cookbooks are collaborative efforts, historically by women who put together their own recipes into a collection which was then sold to raise funds for their religious community, war effort or other good works. Since the first one was printed in 1864 there has been an abundance of them, particularly in the United States although the UK has definitely contributed to the genre.
The American Civil War was actually the reason indirectly for the first fundraising cookbook. It became very clear over the cause of the war that a lack of good, clean medical facilities was adding considerably to the number of casualties. ‘Sanitation Fairs’ were held where local crafts people and food vendors sold their wares and their food in aid of improving the provisioning of medical supplies. The Author of A Poetical Cookbook, Maria J Moss collected recipes from those selling different dishes at the fairs and created a book incorporating a verse of poetry with every recipe and it had its launch at the Philadelphia Sanitation Fair in 1864. It was very popular and so the idea was born.
They are living history, you can see how times, technology and women’s working patterns have changed just from these cookbooks alone. Originally they were more likely to have preserving and pickling recipes but these reduced over the years as fridges, brand names and more convenience products crept in. Recipes changed to shorter, more convenient methods as women started working outside the home more. In the US in particular you can also how see how geography affected these recipes with coastal areas producing lots of seafood recipes, southern states having more recipes for cornbread and biscuits whereas those from Eastern states such as New York and Pennsylvania contained more recipes with German/Eastern European roots.
I also loved how these cookbooks gave women a voice they often didn’t have, especially in the 19th Century. The majority of religious communities and houses of worship were led by men but these cookbooks, which were put together to raise funds, enabled women’s groups to have a say and organise in a way they hadn’t previously. There was also the introduction of cookbooks from African-American communities which enabled the women involved to share recipes from within their own communities rather than those they cooked for their employers.
All of these cookbooks have stories hidden behind the recipe collections if you want to find them. These range from stories of dramatic change across a fairly new country to discovering which local ladies were the most popular and had the most influence. They are also stories of the communities that made them and if an organisation made several over a period of years, they can be family stories too. It might also have been the only time that a woman would make it into print and be her bid for immortality outside of her family.
If you are interested you can find a collection of these cookbooks at the Library of Congress and I would heartily recommend it:
I really want to tell you that there is British equivalent but I don’t think there is (I would be so happy to be told I’m wrong on this). Even after much searching and in desperation just begging on Twitter I couldn’t even find when the first British one appeared. I’m really hoping that there is an archive of these somewhere just that maybe it isn’t digitised. I want to read more of these which I can relate too even more closely just because I better understand the story that lies behind them. I also want to see more ingredients I could identify and possibly still buy. There is one place where I could remember some digital references and that was in Parkin, A Ginger Cake to Remember by Ann Fencott which I found as part of my pursuit for the origins of Parkin in an episode of the podcast. This is worth a read in itself, I must warn you however that it is addictive and if you are anything like me you will become very invested.
If you have any more information about where I could start my search for British community cookbooks I would be very grateful. You can contact me via my socials (details at the bottom of the letter) or in the comments.
So to folklore, I thought we might look at horseradish. Mostly because I can really, and also because I bet there is more than you thought. It has been used in folk medicine for 1000’s of years (probably as we can’t be 100% certain that what we and the Ancient Greeks thought of as horseradish is definitely the same thing). It was definitely used in England medicinally from the Middle Ages onwards before it became prized for its culinary uses from, if I’m to believe the internet, a very precise 1640 (no, I don’t know why either, it seems very random and without any real evidence). I’ll just pop my disclaimer here first that this is all about historic information and is not for medical advice or guidance.
Horseradish was used during the Middle Ages to treat a variety of ailments, the leaves and roots were used for treating asthma, arthritis, cancer, toothaches, sore throats, coughs and digestive upset.
It did gradually fall out of flavour but was still used for certain conditions especially in the fens right though the Victorian period. It was said that ‘an efficacious plaster for lumbago, a common Fen ill, was horseradish, grated and mixed with boiling water. This, applied immediately to the sufferer’s back, was an over-night cure. The resultant blister was treated the following day by removing the plaster, baking it in the oven until it was powdery, then mixing it with flour, the mixture being dusted over the blisters.’
It was also used in the Fens to treat chilblains by wrapping the grated root around the effected finger or toe and wrapping it in lint. The leaves were also considered great for wound healing, reducing blood loss and reducing scarring. It was considered a cure for violent stomach cramps and young women who had been dallying in the bedroom before wedlock chewed on the leaves 3 times a day to remove any need for a rushed wedding.
Horseradish was also used in the Fens to predict the sex of an unborn child. This was carried out by means of two thongs of horseradish, placed one each, under the pillow of the husband and wife. If the root under the husband’s pillow turned black first, it would be a boy; if the wife’s did so, the child would be a girl.
I think that’s probably enough of that for now and we can move onto our vintage recipe of the week, one vintage remedy of dubious efficacy per letter is probably more than enough.
How do you feel about Tipsy Squire? This is a recipe by MRs G A McDonald from the The First Texas Cook Book, A Thorough Treatise on the Art of Cookery produced on behalf of First Presbyterian Church (Houston, Tex.) Ladies' Association in 1883. I’m a bit confused about the egg white but I’m all for the custard, cake, wine and almonds.
With that, Gentle Reader, I must bring this letter to a close. Please don’t hesitate to get in touch via the comments or via any of my social media profiles/my website . If you have enjoyed this and would like to read further such nonsense and have not yet subscribed, please don’t hesitate to subscribe for free at the button below. You’d be very welcome and it would be a joy to write to you.
That’s fascinating about the community cookbooks from the civil war! Have you ever gone on archive.org? They have so many old and out of print books on there that you might find interesting 😊