A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Oxtail Casserole

Welcome back!  To quote my dearly departed mother, "Spring has Sprung" in Cincinnati.  Albeit very slowly and cautiously, with a few winter tantrums tossed in just for fun.  But things are starting to green up and my bulbs have hesitantly peeked out of the ground.  You might notice that this post is a good month after the last one.  Well, Easter happened, and that combined with a home improvement project and my need to lick my wounds after the previous Orange Cake debacle meant just taking a break.  But Kate and I are back at it today, and I debut my first go around with oxtails.

Ingredients and Directions
"I don't supposed this will appeal to a high salaried woman like you but it's very cheap and jolly good.  Wash an oxtail and cut it in pieces at joints.  Cover with boiling water; cook gently for three minutes, drain, dredge with flour and saute in a little pot with a sliced onion.  Put in a casserole with 2 cups canned tomatoes, 1 teas. salt, 1/8 teas. each of pepper & paprika, a touch of meat sauce and a chopped carrot.  Cover and cook in a slow oven for 3 1/2 hours.  Ten minutes before serving you can add 1 cup of peas if you like them."

Jolly good?  Count me in.  Very cheap?  Eh, not so much anymore.  The vogue of 'nose to tail cooking/dining', defined as cooking and consuming the entire animal has driven up prices of what were less desirable and more affordable cuts in Kate's day.  Getting oxtail was a bit trickier than I thought.  During a trip to Jungle Jim's International Market Meat Dept. and talking with the butcher there I come to find out that they have trouble keeping it in stock.  Many cultures have treasured recipes using oxtail, and hey, a cow only has one.  It took me a couple of weeks but I finally scored a package at $7.50 a pound (that sound you hear?  Kate rolling over in her grave).  And to those of you wondering, in Kate's day oxtails were probably really oxtails, i.e. the tails of oxen a castrated male bovine.  Now they're usually just cow tails (male or female), but are still called oxtails for simplicity's sake. 

Thoughtfully, my oxtail was already cleaned and cut at the joints.  I followed the directions, but when it came to 'a touch of meat sauce', I was stumped.  To me, meat sauce is Italian bolognese.  I just can't believe that is what is called for here, especially the 'touch' reference and given the fact that there is NO Italian blood in the family.  Scouring the book, I don't find another reference to meat sauce and no recipe for it so I just decided to go with Worcestershire sauce, which seems like the thoroughly British thing to do. 

Once again, the scarcity of spices concerned me, but it really shouldn't have.  3 1/2 hours later, the meat was fall of the bone tender and the ''gravy' was incredibly flavorful.  Less 'casserole' and more 'stew' I eliminated the peas, not that I don't like them but that I just didn't have any.  Favorite daughter tasted it and didn't die, but SIL dug right in.  Dear husband took one look at the cooked carrots and passed and the world's most perfect grandchild used his favorite word "NO!" to loud effect. 

Verdict?  Delicious.  Would I cook it again?  Given hubs complete aversion to stew, probably not.  But I might consider using oxtail and the wonderful flavor it imparts in the next beef stock I make. 

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Orange Cake

Welcome back!  Yesterday, March 21st was the first day of spring!  Today, because Ohio, it looks like this...So what better thing to do than bake? 

True Confession time - I hate baking cakes.  Detest it.  My children will probably end up being serial killers because I didn't bake their birthday cakes, or it's evil offspring, the cupcake.  All my love and money goes to Caroline Eder (a friend and phenomenal baker), Costco and Kroger for their contributions to my children's cakey happiness.  The thing is, my father, God rest his soul these past 29 years, was a phenomenal cake baker, like award-winning-from-scratch-mile-high-cake baker.  Towards the end of his life he could barely stand and yet he could turn out a triple layer walnut cake that would earn a handshake from Paul Hollywood!  You'd think I would have inherited the baking gene but dammit, nope.  Well, here goes nothing.

Ingredients
1 cup sugar
3 eggs (yolks)
1 cup flour
1 1/4 teas. baking powder
1 orange (juice)

Directions
Beat egg yolks until creamy - add sugar and blend thoroughly. Measure orange juice and add water to make {1 or 1/2} cup liquid.  Add flour and bak. pow. alternately to first mixture with orange juice.  Fold in egg whites.  Bake in layers.  You can use the third egg white to make a boiled icing.  This is a nice light little cake and can be make in no time.

Of course, 'no time' is what we've been given here, along with 'no temperature' - I chose the often used 350 degrees and am staring with 30 minutes.  I'm also completely stumped by her handwriting - should I add enough liquid to the squeezed orange juice to make 1/2 cup liquid or 1 cup?  Fair warning, I split the difference.  And even though the recipe didn't call for it, I beat the egg whites into stiff peaks before folding them into the batter.  I own no cake pans (I. Don't. Bake.), so I sprayed the hell out of a bundt pan (I do make coffee cake, which isn't really cake), poured the batter in, set the timer for 30 minutes and unlike the contestants in the Great British Baking show who crouch agonizingly by their ovens, waltzed in the living room, ignoring the cake completely. 

Imagine my surprise then when 35 minutes later, the cake was a lovely high risen golden color and smelled delicious.  Now imagine my total disgust when upon removing it from the oven, much like a deflating balloon, this lovely confection compressed itself into the size and shape of a hockey puck.  Seriously, an hour after I took this picture, it's gotten even flatter still.  Mind you, it smells wonderful.  And it tastes good, very orangey but it sure isn't light, per Kate's description.  So what went wrong?

Well, as near as I can research, this cake is a type of 'foam' cake called a sponge.  According to the website "The Joy of Baking" (what a ridiculous name and a total fabrication), "these cakes have a high proportion of eggs to flour and are leavened solely by the air beaten into whole eggs or egg whites.  They contain very little, if any, fat and have a spongy texture."  Well, darn - I thought she meant my sponge cake was supposed to resemble a flat dried kitchen sponge - nailed it!  What did I do wrong?

Well, the Joy of Baking says that 'Sponge Cake gets most of its rise from the air whipped into the eggs.' Problem 1 - I probably didn't beat the egg yolks enough.  It also uses an ungreased pan and I definitely sprayed the life out of the pan.  They recommend using an ungreased tube pan (think angel food cake).  And lastly, I'm still unsure of the water content, as it might have been too much.  

Finally, Kate did not include a boiled icing recipe in the book, so I will not make one.  Instead, I'll just dust thing with powdered sugar and drop kick it to the table.  Hubs will be so glad I baked, he might not notice the chipped tooth when he bites into it.  

Verdict?  Tastes delicious.  And it was relatively quick and easy to make.  But unless someone can figure out the correct proportions, I can only take so much failure in my life.  NEXT!

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Sharp Sauce

Good morning!  It's March in Cincinnati, which means Ole' Man Winter is getting in it's last licks of cold and snow.  There's no better way to kick off a Monday than stay inside and cook.  Well, there might be way better things to do, but this is the best I could come up with.

So, I've been holding out on you, as far as this little recipe journal is concerned. If you've been reading any of the last blog entries, none of the recipes have been too weird, right?  Lacking instructions maybe, and some funky names and methods but the results have been surprisingly tasty.  But in all truthful honesty the journal has an entire section on vegetables.  Now, you're probably thinking to yourself, nothing wrong with veggies, right?  And you'd be correct.  Except Kate's veggie recipes all feature 'gelatin' prominently.  Yes, you guessed it, the dreaded vegetable salads of yesterday.  I didn't quite have the fortitude or copious amounts of gelatin to tackle a vegetable salad today, so the first recipe up is Sharp Sauce.

Ingredients and Instructions
Chop pimientos, white onions, 1/2 green pepper, some celery and a dill pickle.  Pour over this French dressing and let stand a day.  Garnish with stuffed olives. This is nice with cold meat that's rather insipid.  It gives it pep and helps with the leftovers.

So, well, okay.  There's a LOT to unpack here.  Once again there are no measurements, other than 1/2 of a green pepper.  Though her handwriting is a bit garbled, I'm reasonably confident that the first ingredient is pimientos.  In case you're wondering, "a pimiento, pimento, or cherry pepper is a variety

of large, red, heart-shaped chili pepper that measures 3 to 4 in long and 2 to 3 in wide. The flesh of the pimiento is sweet, succulent, and more aromatic than that of the red bell pepper." Fortunately, pimientos come pre-chopped in a jar now.  I decided to cut vegetables into roughly a similar shape and quantity as the pimientos, roughly 1/3 to 1/2 cup.  I did not have a whole dill pickle, but I did have some tasty Zesty Garlic Pickle chips in the fridge, and I figured the addition of some zestiness couldn't hurt.  After chopping all the vegetables, I set them in a colander to drain a bit so that the finished sauce wouldn't be watery - hey, I have to taste this stuff!  The final addition is the electric neon orange french dressing - I used about 8 ounces - and Voila! Sharp Sauce.


Now to the discussion of 'meat that's rather insipid'.  Merriam Webster gives this definition:

in·sip·id – adjective = lacking flavor.
synonyms: tasteless, flavorless, bland, weak, wishy-washy; lacking vigor or interest.

You might be wondering why anyone would make or serve insipid or tasteless meat. Not to be flippant, but I think it boils down (no pun intended) to two things - members of my family tree were on the poorer side, and secondly had a strong British ancestral heritage.  Boiling meat, after all, is cheap and easy, so it's closer to the diet of farmers than royalty. Boiling, stewing, poaching and roasting works well on tougher, cheaper cuts of meat.  And I'm quite sure there was little availability of exotic spice blends to 'pep up the leftovers'.  My mother and grandmothers could cook a roast to within an inch of it's life, so to speak, AND my dad didn't like spicy food, so trust me when I tell you I've eaten my share of insipid meat.  

That's where Sharp Sauce comes in.  The website Foods of England describes it as "a sharply-flavoured sauce for fowl, game and red meat. Eaton 1822 has simply wine vinegar boiled with sugar. Soyer 1845 has chopped onions with chilli vinegar, vinegar, caramel and water. Francatelli 1852 uses chopped mixed pickle with breadcrumbs." It's listed as a 'lost food' of English cooking (if anyone's looking, I found it). And randomly, believe it or not, Baked Haddock with Sharp Sauce was served on the Titanic, albeit in second class dining. The very same Baked Haddock with Sharp Sauce was also a featured dinner on Downtown Abbey.  William Shakespeare even refers to it in Romeo and Juliet during the banter between Romeo and Mercutio in Act 2, Scene 4:

MERCUTIO
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting (apple). It is a most sharp sauce.
 ROMEO
And is it not well served into a sweet goose? 

Verdict?  I love Romeo and Juliet, but I'm not cooking goose anytime soon.  Side note: if you've ever wondered about the phrase 'your goose is cooked' consult World Wide Words for an interesting, time wasting, somewhat mind enriching exercise. As for sharp sauce?  Well, we'll have to wait a day to find out.  As for insipid meat, I'm thinking a plain turkey burger should suffice.  I have no intention of boiling anything any time soon, though fair warning - in future recipes, Kate does call for boiling meat.  You should know however, stuffed olives, sliced or whole, will NOT be added to this sauce, as DH detests olives with the same intensity as beets.  However, he had no problem inhaling almost the entire pan of brownie like Pawtucket Fingers!

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Pawtucket Fingers

Welcome back - and back to baking we go!  But before we do, just an update on the beet salad.  As I suspected, SIL is finishing up the 2nd container that was supposedly meant for his brother - oops, sorry there Tony.  In more spectacular news, DH sampled a forkful again, as he did not taste the revised version with sugar added, and pronounced it 'better'.  He did not, however, go back for a second sample.  It appears 'better' is relatively equal to 'I still ain't gonna eat beets'.  But I digress.

The name of this recipe is what intrigued me, and I wondered what backstory the recipe has. More exciting is that the instructions contain an actual baking time, woot-woot!

Ingredients
1/2 cup melted butter
1 cup sugar
2 1/2 squares chocolate*
3 eggs
3/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
salt**
1 cup chopped walnuts***
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

*I used unsweetened baking squares
**I used 1/2 teaspoon salt
***no walnuts, so I used pecans

Directions
Bake about 30 minutes in a moderate oven.  Cut in fingers while hot.  These are nice with afternoon tea, or in the evening with ice cream.

While I am grateful to Kate for serving suggestion, mixing directions would have been lovely.  I decided to approach this recipe much like Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookies - cream the sugars and fats, added the liquid, followed by mixed dry.  I melted the butter and chocolate in the microwave (yeah, yeah, I know, authenticity and all that), then beat in sugar, followed by eggs and vanilla (with my KitchenAid mixer - authenticity only goes so far when the rain is making your arthritis kick into high gear).  I added the mixed dry ingredients last and folded in the nuts at the end.  A quick finger dip into the batter (admit it, y'all taste test sweet batters with your finger), and as I suspected, this tastes a lot like brownie mix, albeit with a fluffy cake like consistency.

With no suggestion as to baking dish size, I used my trusty 8 x 12 x 2 ceramic baker, and with an abundance of caution, I sprayed it down with non-stick spray.  Since Kate provided the baking time, I judged a 'moderate' oven to be 350.  I popped it in and began checking after 20 minutes.  Kate was spot on the money as at 30 minutes a toothpick came out clean and the surface provided that slight spring back.  As I suspected Pawtucket Fingers are really light chocolate nut brownies.

But I was still curious about the name, so it was off to quiz the Google.  Unlike Matrimonial Cake I found exactly 3 listings.  The first recipe had this attribution...

"This recipe was given to innkeeper Anne Gi Conte by Helen Marsh when her family came for dinner. It has been a real favorite around the Sugar Pine Farm Bed & Breakfast ever since."

Two of the three recipes on Google cite Sugar Pine Farm Bed & Breakfast as the recipe source, and admittedly their recipe is incredibly similar to Kate's recipe.  But the attribution above states that the Inn didn't create the recipe, but merely used it. The other recipe from Google is listed on Recipe Genius, and is labeled as Brownie Fingers - note, there are many recipes on Google for Brownie Fingers, but none reference the distinct name of Pawtucket.  Interestingly, both the Sugar Pine Farm recipe and the Recipe Genius entry have the added step of rolling the 'fingers' in powdered sugar.  But since Kate didn't specify that step, I've left it off.  And I know my Pawtucket Fingers look a little stumpy, but hey, the Lord blessed me with snausages for fingers, so my brownies look the same.  

After spending a half hour or so putting my computer wizardry degree to hard use via the internet, I came up empty as to the recipe name's meaning.  While Pawtucket is a city in Rhode Island, the only connection I can find to the recipe is the Sugar Pine Farm Bed & Breakfast mentioned above in Quechee, Vermont, only a whopping 182 miles apart.  However they didn't create the recipe and unfortunately, there is no other information on the Bed & Breakfast, so that appears to be a dead end.  Additionally, a lovely woman on Facebook named "Betty" posted a picture of her Pawtucket Fingers in 2011, describing them as "basically light chocolate brownies and very simple to make - Baker's chocolate, margarine, sugar, flour, salt, baking powder, vanilla. Recipe goes back at least to my grandmother."  However, when asked in the comments as to why they're called "Pawtucket Fingers", she had no idea about the source of the name either.  

So, it does appear that the reason these brownies are labeled "Pawtucket Fingers" is lost to history.  If you have any guesses or info, I'd love for you to weigh in!  As to DH, I think he's stopping by UDF for the suggested ice cream...my verdict is that we would probably make these again.

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Round Steak with Onions

And we're back at it, this time with our original cookbook author, Kate (as determined by her distinctive handwriting).  This recipe seemed fairly straightforward and I felt it was time to plunge into an entree.

Ingredients
3 lbs. round steak
6 onions, sliced thing
1 tbs dripping*
1 " flour
2 " vinegar
3 springs parsley** & a bay leaf
1 pint boiling water - salt and pepper

Directions
Beat steak with a potato masher*** - Put dripping in a deep fy pan and when hot, add onions.  Put in steak dredged with flour, salt and pepper.  Cover closely, simmer on a hot fire for a minute, then turn steak.  Add other seasonings, lower fire and simmer gently for two hours. Very good and very cheap.

*I used bacon fat drippings
**No fresh parsley, but I did have tarragon and used that instead.
***haven't had a potato masher in years.  I used a meat mallet instead.  While it might have felt I was solving world problems whacking that steak, I mostly got a good workout.

I ended up with top round steak.  Other than the shape, what exactly is round steak?  Wikipedia tells us that "a round steak is a beef steak from the "round"(duh), the rear leg of the cow. The round is divided into cuts including the eye (of) round, bottom round, and top round, with or without the "round" bone (femur), and may include the knuckle (sirloin tip), depending on how the round is separated from the loin. This is a lean cut and it is moderately tough. Round steak is commonly prepared with slow moist-heat methods including braising, to tenderize the meat and maintain moisture."  [Side note: For all you baby boomers like me, 'cube steak' from our childhood is pre-tenderized round steak.]  So far it looks like Kate is spot on her cooking method with this cut of meat.  But as to the 'very cheap' comment, well, Kate, beef might have been cheap in your day but at today's prices, 3 pounds of round steak runs close to 20 bucks. I'm reluctant to just waste that kind of money for a blog that maybe 5 people are reading, so I went slightly against my own rules and used homemade beef stock instead of boiling water to create the roux. Before I added the beef stock, I sweated (sweat? any grammar experts out there?) the onions in bacon grease (honestly, Pam Spray has nothing on bacon grease in the flavor department), plopped the beaten, seasoned and dredged steak on top of the onions, tossed in the tarragon and bay leaf, poured in the stock, on went the lid, and the timer was set for two hours.  Pretty easy, minimal prep, but truly, all I could think was how much faster this recipe would be done in my instant pot.

After a day spent watching the world's perfect grandson, with whom I took turns whacking the steak, I invited favorite daughter and SIL to dinner.  I did tell them they'd be guinea pigs for this recipe - but I didn't tell them what the recipe actually was in the invite (bwahaha).  It only took five minutes after picky eater favorite daughter hit the door to ask what I was cooking.  And surprise, surprise! It turns out round steak with onions is rather tasty, and she actually ate it (I owe you one, SIL - marriage has been good for her pickiness).  For my palate, the recipe definitely needs more seasoning - garlic, perhaps.  The final product reminds me of Swiss Steak, but the addition of vinegar was the real wild card, and added a nice zingy-ness. The finished dish was fork tender and made into sandwiches on crusty french bread.  You can't beat that.

So, verdict?  Everyone thought it was good except the perfect grandchild who refused to eat anything.  I would make it again but probably in the instant pot, and I would definitely amp up the seasoning.

Next week?  Back to baking...Dun Dun Dun!

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Beet Relish

Hello again!  After back to back trips to Florida and California, with Cincinnati Beerfest squeezed in between, I'm back at it sporting the head cold from hell, courtesy of all those planes, trains, and automobiles.  It's the usual Cincinnati weather, gray skies, gray clouds, with a dash of gray to color it all, so what better time to tackle another recipe, while listening to the hammering of our new siding going up?  Side note: with my failing hearing and the added hurdle of a head cold, I'm constantly thinking someone is knocking at the door, so I'm trying to ignore it.  If you're really here and I don't answer, sorry, just keep pounding.

On to the next recipe, beet relish.  I personally love beets, pickled beets in particular.  My mother made her own pickled beets and would add peeled hard boiled eggs to the pickling juice.  The eggs would turn a beautiful purple color and were great additions to a salad.  But I digress.  I've eaten a lot of relishes, but I can say that I never had this version.  

Ingredients

1 qt cooked beets, chopped fine

1 qt raw cabbage, "

1 scant cup horseradish chopped or ground

1 tsp black pepper

1 sweet green pepper, chopped

2 or 3 heads of celery*

1 heaping tblsp salt

2 cups white vinegar

Directions

Cover with cold cider vinegar

And that's it.  Pretty simple, right? I made a couple of executive decisions.  I used canned beets, 3 drained cans worth, and green cabbage, as the heads were smaller at Kroger - the red would be prettier, but the heads were gargantuan.  I was a little stumped by three heads of celery, I mean 3 heads of celery is a damned lot of celery - so I made the executive decision to use just 3 stalks.  Finally, it calls for white vinegar but then mentions cider vinegar.  I used white because it was what I had on hand.  Lastly, about all that chopping...yeah.  I debated the authenticity angle and then thought, screw it, and pulled out my food processor.  I used the shredder attachment for everything except the celery, for which I used the slicer.  I did chop the pepper by hand.  And that was quite enough, thank you.  

So, this is the finished product.  It is quite tart, a bit salty, somewhat inexpensive for the large quantity made, and something of a question mark. What exactly do you do with this quantity of relish except perhaps as an offering at a picnic, especially when DH reminds you that he doesn't like beets ?  And is it my imagination or does the handwriting look different for this recipe than the others?  More on that in a minute.  As to the relish, I was initially torn.  I'm reluctant to pitch the whole thing, but the "balance" of the recipe doesn't taste right.  On scouring the Google, I have found similar archival recipes, and they almost all call for a certain amount of sweetness (such as sugar). Considering the recipe in it's current state was practically inedible, hot and vinegary, I added a cup and 1/2 of sugar, and let it sit for a day.  I then remembered that while DH doesn't like beets, SIL LOVES them. He pronounced it delicious, one of the best he'd had - and being Polish by birth, he's had a lot of beet relishes.  He took the entire bowl, ostensibly to share with his brother - but I doubt it will last that long.  Talk about your fiber!

I'm guessing that if you're a canner, this would be a great recipe to hot pack - heat the vinegar, pepper and sugar, pour over the veggies and pack into sterilized jars, much like a sauerkraut.  The Big Blue Book of Ball canning does have a beet relish recipe, but it calls for cooking and processing, which would degrade the freshness of the veggies, I think.  Would I make this again?  Depends on how much the SIL begs for it - but considering he's pretty handy in the kitchen, I'm thinking he can manage it himself.

Verdict: Interesting, but needed additions to make it palatable.  For me, I don't think this will be a repeat recipe.  

As to the handwriting, I realized that this belongs to my Uncle Ray Cunningham.  I believe that he and possibly his mother Ruth added their own favorite recipes to the book.  I'll do a bit of research and see if I can attribute specific recipes to their respective writers.  Stay tuned...

Next week - an entree!  Some of these are real doozys...stay tuned!

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Brown Bread (Belle) OR "When is a Pound no longer a Pound?"

Good morning!  I decided to go to the front of the book to make my progression easier.  Having said that though, I will choose to cook seasonally if the recipe ingredients are more readily available at different times of the year.  This is the first recipe in the journal, and I began prepping for it 6 days ago.  You might be wondering what recipe with only 10 ingredients would require such a long prep time?  Well, as usual, one ingredient, "Graham Flour" isn't available in my area.  Even Jungle Jim's International Market, a foodie paradise with 180,000 items (that's HUNDRED THOUSAND, folks) doesn't carry it, and honestly, I thought they had everything.  Once again though, Amazon Prime rides to the rescue!

Add caption

Side note:  Graham Flour is not made from ground up graham crackers or the flour used in making graham crackers (and yes, I did wonder if that was it's composition).  According to Wikipedia, Graham flour is a type of flour named after Sylvester Graham (1794–1851), an early advocate for dietary reform. Graham despised the discarding of nutrients such as germ and bran when making flour for white bread and believed that using all of the grain in the milling of flour and baking of bread was a remedy for the poor health of his fellow Americans during changes in diet brought on by the Industrial Revolution. Graham flour is similar to whole wheat flour in that both are made from the whole grain; however, graham flour is not sifted during milling (i.e. unbolted) and is ground more coarsely. Turns out Sylvester was a health nut ahead of his time.

Ingredients:
2 cups white flour sifted with 1/2 teaspoon salt & 2 teaspoons soda*

*Henceforth, going forward "Soda" will be forevermore baking soda

2nd
2 cups graham flour (see above)
1 cup sugar
1 cup raisins

1/2 cup molasses
2 eggs
2 cups sour milk***
2 tablespoons melted lard

***To make 1 cup (250 mL) sour milk for baking, use 1 tbsp (15 mL) vinegar or lemon juice and enough milk to equal 1 cup (250 mL). Stir and let stand for 5 minutes before using.  I am using 2% milk, though my guess is that this recipe used whole milk.  Spoiled milk is unsafe to use (duh).  

Once the ingredient list was managed, the real drama started.

Instructions:
Beat together (Executive decision assumes this means the 3rd set of ingredients).  Add 1st mixture and beat well.  Add 2nd mixture when well mixed divide in 3 coffee tins.  Bake at 350 degrees (hooray, a temperature!  But no time, boo).

But wait - coffee tins?  Do manufacturers even sell coffee in cans anymore?  (short answer, yes - Chock Full O' Nuts.  Most are cardboard or plastic.) Not that the idea of cooking in a coffee can is foreign to me; my mother used to steam her Christmas puddings in Folgers one pound coffee cans.  But this instruction has really slowed me down, not only for the scarcity of the can, but the lack of original size, too.  Anyone who has shopped in the last century knows that packaging is decreasing while prices are increasing.  The Boston Globe has a great article on this very (touchy) subject - read it here.

Case in point - I scored these big coffee cans by beg, borrowing and stealing from friends.  The red Folger can is 3 pounds, even.  The middle Maxwell House can is 2 lbs, 7 oz, and the right Maxwell House is 2 lbs, 1 oz, a full 15 ounces less (and it's plastic to boot).  And damn, does that print get smaller and smaller, too, and it isn't just the bifocals needed, folks!  Even the small seemingly 1 pound Master Blend can (pictured right and I'm guessing the size I'm seeking) is actually only 13 ounces, down to 11.5 currently.

So you might be asking why this matters.  Well, for anyone who has ever dusted off an older relatives recipe, the 'can' or 'bag' or 'package' or even cooking container called for is in all certainty not going to be the same proportion and probably a much smaller amount than is required.  And baking is just darned finicky enough to require correct proportions to turn out right.  Finally, I'd like my attempts to replicate these recipes to be as authentic as possible.

After weighing many options I decided to use the smaller coffee can (for authenticity sake) and just two glass loaf pans for the remainder of the batter.  I generously sprayed them with Pam Spray, as the batter has the consistency of cake rather than a traditional bread (even though greasing is not called for).  I placed all three in a 350 oven for 30 minutes (no time was given), and began testing for done-ness.  It became apparent that the cook time would be more along an hour, though in retrospect the glass pans appeared to set more quickly than the coffee tin - surprising, given the thinness of the metal.  The coffee tin bread set very well, staying moist.  The exposed loaf pan loaves are denser and probably a bit overbaked.  Sorry for the um, suggestive loaf shot above, but I was trying to show the rings around the tin loaf, supposedly a hallmark of authentic brown bread.

While the bread was baking, I was off to question The Google. According to Wikipedia,

New England or Boston brown bread is a type of dark, slightly sweet steamed bread (usually a quick bread) popular in New England. It is cooked by steam in a can, or cylindrical pan.  Boston brown bread's color comes from a mixture of flours, usually a mix of several of the following: cornmeal, rye, whole wheat, graham flour, and from the addition of sweeteners like molasses and maple syrup. Leavening most often comes from baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) though a few recipes use yeast. Raisins are often added. The batter is poured into a can and steamed in a kettle. Brown bread is somewhat seasonal, being served mostly in fall and winter, and is frequently served with baked beans. (Baked beans and raisins?  Really?  Hmmmm.....)

As for my little journal, I have yet to figure out who Belle is, genealogically, or why a New England staple would feature in this book, as we have no ancestral connection to the area.  I will say that brown bread was a hallmark of a poor family (despite the better nutritional impact of the flour), and my family along that thread of family tree were farmers, so the recipe fits from that aspect.  Most importantly, the bread is freaking delicious and I would definitely make it again, this time steaming it instead.  And because DH LOVES them, I'll probably serve it with baked beans, too.

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Matrimonial Cake

I have to admit I was as much intrigued by the name and description of the cake as the recipe itself.  The text reads "Probably you have this already but if not it's worth making.  I think it must owe its name to the fact that any beau to who it's served keeps coming back for more".  Admittedly my first inclination was to run for the Google and look up the history of Matrimonial Cake.  But I held off, and decided to give this recipe a whirl.  Please note, this is not the first entry in the book, but I did have all the ingredients on hand, so it gets first billing.

On to the recipe:

1 1/2 cups rolled oats*
1 1/2 cups white flour
1/2 cup butter**
1 cup brown sugar
 1 teaspoon soda***

*Doesn't specify quick or long cooking; I used quick as I had it on hand
**Salted stick sweet cream butter
**Executive decision decided that soda is Baking Soda

Instructions read "Mix these thoroly (don't think that milk has been accidentally omitted - it's a dry mixture)"

1 pkg dates, stoned & cut*
1 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water

*Executive decision meant using an 8 ounce packaged of dates that I chopped into a small dice

Instructions read "Boil until thick"

Final instructions read "Put half the dry mixture in a pan & spread with date mixture - cover with the other half and bake till a nut brown".

So, artistic cooking license was required here in several places.  There is no reference to the size of the pan, so I used an 8 x 12 ceramic baking dish.  There is no recommendation for buttering the dish, but I did take the modern route and sprayed it with cooking spray.  Finally, there is no recommendation about oven temperature or baking time.  I decided to go with 325 convection for 30 minutes. 

I could tell after assembling the dual ingredients that this was 'cake' in name only, and more resembled a date cookie bar.  In the future I will do more to document the steps of baking for your faithful reading reference, but the final product looks like this. A chewy bar type cookie that is not too sweet and really freakin delicious.  I think, given the ingredient proportions that I might have gone with a smaller 9 x 9 baking pan.  While tasty, the topping was a bit dry.  But my guesses on the baking time were correct, and it was completely necessary to butter or spray the dish.  I would probably increase the amount of dates to a pound to increase the filling to topping ratio.

I was intrigued by the name Matrimonial Cake, so once I was finished baking, I checked Google for the history.  Wikipedia defines it as "A date square (that) is a Canadian dessert or coffee cake made of cooked dates and with an oatmeal crumb topping. In Western Canada it is known as Matrimonial Cake. It is often found in coffee shops as a sweet snack food. There can be nuts added to the base layer or crumb topping. There can be candied peel added to the date stuffing for a contrasting texture."  The two blogs below give their guesses on the background on the cake's meaning, though there isn't a definitive answer.

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2008/07/matrimonial-cake.html 
http://www.littlegraybird.ca/littlegraybird/2011/4/18/matrimonial-cake.html

My theory as to why it appears in my little book is noted in the The Old Foodie blog, stating that the recipe appeared in the 1933's in Ohio.  Given the fact that my relatives are from Northeastern and Middle Ohio, this guess fits as well as any.  Kate's description works for my beau; DH proclaimed them delicious and would definitely 'come back for more'!

A Year of Cooking Genalogically, Intro

I find it hard to believe, but 10 years ago this January 2018, my one-hell-of-a mother passed away after just 79 short years of gracing this earth with her wit and wisdom.  Just 5 months later in May, her beloved cousin Ray died, too.  In the twisted roots that make up my family tree, Ray was my mothers mother's cousin - but to my mom and my sisters and I, Ray was much like a brother and uncle.  Ray was a single man, never married, and both he and my mother were only children, so two family deaths in such close calendar proximity meant that the disposal of two household worth of lives well lived fell to my sisters and me; actually mostly to my middle sister Claudia.  As with most families not named "Hilton" or "Kennedy", items left behind were comprised of the expected and loved (pictures and family heirlooms, such as china and furniture), and the not so expected and problematic, of which I'll spare you the details.

As can often happen in these situations, decisions are made pretty much on the spot.  Keep this, discard that, donate a lot, and dispose of a lot more.  In retrospect, there is always a tinge of regret in what is kept and what is not, and only time can sharpen that distinction.  But occasionally you find a diamond in the rough, so to speak.  A piece of time that might be tossed in a box and stuck away for later (and in this case) much later disposition.

I discovered one such item when going through a box of old papers, tucked in the crawlspace of our basement, a subterranean wonderland that has accumulated 27 years of toys, furniture, papers, pictures, spiders and dust bunnies of gargantuan proportions.  This pocket sized journal was included in items from Ray's home.  After some searching through the fragile pages, I found this dedication page.  The text reads: "Ruth, I've put in only recipes that I use every day and know are good.  I hope that at least a few of them are new to you and that you find them useful. Kate"

Immediately, my curiosity was piqued.  Ruth is Ray's mother, Ruth Ramsire, born 1900, died 1991.  But I have no idea who Kate is - in all my family research, it isn't a name that is familiar.  She might not even be a relative, though she does know Leslie Coe Butler, my great-great uncle, referring to him in one of the recipes in the book.  Beyond that page, there is no other reference as to who this cookbook author might be.  The pages are fragile and the book binding is beginning to come apart.  Upon the advice of DH Rob, I've decided to scan the pages of the book that are written on.  And just for the absolute fun of it, I've decided to cook the recipes contained within.

Now you might be thinking to yourself, big deal.  Recipes abound on the internet.  And you'd be right.  But what makes these recipes unique, besides the family connection are their instructions.  Or lack thereof.  As you'll see going forward, many of the recipes come with 'sparse' details.  There are no oven temperatures, though occasionally Kate calls for a moderate oven.  Of course, there are no pictures included, so the outcome can be left to the imagination.  Some ingredients will require ordering from Amazon.  Some recipes lack for specific measurements, and in those cases I will just use a best judgement going forward.  And while some recipes sound delicious, others leave me wondering what the outcome will be.  Prune Whip, I'm looking at you.

To make this exercise as authentic as I can, I've set some ground rules going forward.

1. I will use the ingredients listed unless they're no longer available on the commercial market.  
2. I will do my best to decipher the ingredients listed, but may have to take poetic license with spelling and printing.  
3. I might scale down the size of some recipes though, as I'm not sure if I want to tackle a 'peck' of cucumbers. 
4. I will not google recipes ahead of time, as I suspect many similar versions can be found online. 
5. Instead I will document decisions I make in the execution of the recipes, especially when instructions are lacking.  
6. I will dutifully document the success and failures of what I make.  

Finally, I will share whatever information I discover through genealogy research of Kate and her recipes.  Ride through the past with me to see what some of my ancestors enjoyed eating.