Old School Cooking
I'm looking for a good recipe for a ginger (NOT gingerbread - I'm not a big fan of molasses unless it's wintertime) cake, and came across this:
Miss Leslie's Honey Ginger Cake
Rub together a pound of sifted flour and three-quarters of a pound of fresh butter. Mo in, a tea-cup of fine brown sugar, two large table-spoonfuls of strong ginger, and (if you like them) two table-spoonfuls of carraway seeds. Having beaten five eggs, add them to the mixture alternately with a pint of strained honey; stirring in towards the last a small tea-spoonful of pearl-ash, that has been melted in a very little vingar.
Having beaten or stirred the mixture long enough to make it perfectly light, transfer it to a square iron or block-tin pan, (which must be well buttered,) put it into a moderate oven, and bake it an hour or more, in proportion to its thickness.
When cool, cut it into squares. It is best if eaten fresh, but it will keep very well a week.
I will not be making this, because I do not have a pound of fresh butter, a pint of strained honey, or any pearl-ash (what is that?!) at all. But I still thought this was a fascinating little postcard from the past.
ETA: When researching this cookbook further, I discovered it was published in 1851, with this foreword:
In preparing a new and carefully revised edition of this, my first work on general cookery, I have introduced improvements, corrected errors, and added new receipts, that I trust will, on trial, be found satisfactory. The success of the book (proved by its immense and increasing circulation,) affords conclusive evidence that it has obtained the approbation of a large number of my countrywomen; many of whom have informed me that it has made practical housewives of young ladies who have entered into married life with no other acquirements than a few showy accomplishments. Gentlemen, also, have told me of great improvements in the family-table, after presenting their wives with this manual of domestic cookery; and that, after a morning devoted to the fatigues of business, they no longer find themselves subjected to the annoyance of an ill-dressed dinner.
Marvelous!
Miss Leslie's Honey Ginger Cake
Rub together a pound of sifted flour and three-quarters of a pound of fresh butter. Mo in, a tea-cup of fine brown sugar, two large table-spoonfuls of strong ginger, and (if you like them) two table-spoonfuls of carraway seeds. Having beaten five eggs, add them to the mixture alternately with a pint of strained honey; stirring in towards the last a small tea-spoonful of pearl-ash, that has been melted in a very little vingar.
Having beaten or stirred the mixture long enough to make it perfectly light, transfer it to a square iron or block-tin pan, (which must be well buttered,) put it into a moderate oven, and bake it an hour or more, in proportion to its thickness.
When cool, cut it into squares. It is best if eaten fresh, but it will keep very well a week.
I will not be making this, because I do not have a pound of fresh butter, a pint of strained honey, or any pearl-ash (what is that?!) at all. But I still thought this was a fascinating little postcard from the past.
ETA: When researching this cookbook further, I discovered it was published in 1851, with this foreword:
In preparing a new and carefully revised edition of this, my first work on general cookery, I have introduced improvements, corrected errors, and added new receipts, that I trust will, on trial, be found satisfactory. The success of the book (proved by its immense and increasing circulation,) affords conclusive evidence that it has obtained the approbation of a large number of my countrywomen; many of whom have informed me that it has made practical housewives of young ladies who have entered into married life with no other acquirements than a few showy accomplishments. Gentlemen, also, have told me of great improvements in the family-table, after presenting their wives with this manual of domestic cookery; and that, after a morning devoted to the fatigues of business, they no longer find themselves subjected to the annoyance of an ill-dressed dinner.
Marvelous!