A hundred-year-old issue of American Cookery magazine contained an advertisement for kitchen clocks. To get a clock, people could send $1.50 plus sell seven subscriptions to the magazine, or they could just send $5.25 and not sell any subscriptions. I wonder how many people sold subscriptions to get a clock at a reduced price. I can’t imagine being able to sell subscriptions to seven people.
Actually, I don’t think that I’d purchase one for the full price either. I haven’t had a separate kitchen clock for many years. I just use the ones on my stove and microwave, but, of course, they didn’t yet exist in 1926, so if I went back in time, maybe I’d want one.
The clocks contained pendulums, and needed to be wound every eight days. 1926 was before the era of electric and battery-operated clocks.
Berries, berries everywhere. I flipped through a hundred-year-old cookbook to see if there were any berry recipes, and came across a lovely recipe for Blackberry Cake.
Blackberry Cake is a spice cake that contains blackberries. The combination works really well, and the cake was delicious. It makes a lovely summer dessert.
Here’s the original recipe:
Source: Pennsylvania State Grange Cook Book (1926)
A hundred years ago, canned blackberries were readily available. In those days, before home freezers, many cooks canned blackberries to preserve them. Commercially canned blackberries were also sold in many stores.
Since it’s difficult to find canned blackberries today, I substituted fresh blackberries for canned ones when I made the recipe. I used a pint package of blackberries and cooked them with a little sugar prior to using in this recipe. The blackberries I used were very large, so I cut each berry into 2 or 3 pieces before cooking. After they were cooked, they had a consistency (and liquid) similar to canned blackberries.
1 cup canned blackberries, including liquid (or use 1 pint (8 ounces) fresh blackberries + 1/4 cup sugar)
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup water
2 eggs
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon allspice
Step 1. If using fresh blackberries, put blackberries in a saucepan. (If the blackberries are very large, first cut each one into 2 or 3 pieces.) Stir in 1/4 cup sugar. Let sit for 5 minutes to allow time for juice to be drawn out of the berries, then heat, using medium heat until the liquid begins to boil; reduce heat and simmer until the berries are soft (about 5 minutes). Remove from heat.
Step 2. Drain the blackberries. Reserve both the berries and liquid. (Regardless of whether canned or cooked berries are used, they will need to be drained.)
Step 3. Preheat oven to 350° F.
Step 4. Grease and flour a loaf pan or a 9-inch square baking pan. (I used a square pan.).
Step 5. Cream butter and 1 cup sugar. Add water, and eggs; beat to combine. Add flour, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice; beat until thoroughly mixed. Add blackberry juice; beat until well blended.
Step 6. Then stir in the cooked blackberries. Pour into prepared pan.
Step 7. Bake 40 to 45 minutes, or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.
There have been beautifully decorated cakes at weddings for at least a hundred years (and the tradition probably goes back much longer). The 1926 edition of Mrs. Peterson’s Simplified Cooking cookbook included recipes for both Bride’s and Groom’s Cakes.
I never heard of Groom’s Cake until I saw it in the old cookbook. An online search showed that Groom’s Cake is still served at some weddings. There is regional variation in the popularity of Groom’s Cake, with it being more popular in Britain and the southern U.S. than in other regions.
In the hundred-year-old cookbook, the batter used to make the Bride’s Cake was white. The same basic batter was used for both cakes, but fruit, cocoa and spices were added to the Groom’s Cake batter. It also was smaller than the Bride’s Cake, though both were beautifully decorated.
Source: Mrs. Peterson’s Simplified Cooking (1926)
The cakes in the pictures were beautiful, but since I had no need for wedding cakes, I didn’t try to replicate them. In case you are interested, here are the recipes in the old cookbook:
Can a recipe failure be a success? I think that I have a case where the dish I made didn’t turn out as expected, but I absolutely love the food I ended up with. Let me explain.
I decided to make a hundred-year-old recipe for Jellied Rhubarb. To illustrate the post, I planned to show a picture of a beautifully molded gelatin ring with the piped whipped cream on top. Instead, I ended up with a bright, sunny rhubarb sauce that contained delightful notes of lemon.
I think that this is the first time that I’ve ever made a recipe that called for both rhubarb and lemon juice (and lemon rind). The combination works! Both the rhubarb and the lemon are tart and tangy, while the lemon brings an additional subtle sweetness and refreshing citrus taste. I can’t figure out why it’s not a common combination.
Each spring and early summer, I make lots of rhubarb dishes, and I’m certain I’ll make this recipe again.
Source: Ladies Home Journal (May, 1926)
I’m still trying to figure out why the gelatin did not firmly set. As I go over how I made the recipe in my head, I think that there might be several factors that caused the problems. First, I took some short cuts when making the recipe. To cook the rhubarb, the recipe calls for mixing the rhubarb pieces, sugar, and water, and then baking for 50 minutes. This seemed like an odd (and very slow) way to get cooked rhubarb, so I put the rhubarb, sugar, and water in a pan and cooked it for a few minutes until the rhubarb was soft.
Second, I may have inadvertently not used as much unflavored gelatin as the recipe called for. It calls for 2 1/2 tablespoons of gelatin; I used 2 packets of gelatin. At the time, I thought that 2 packets contained a lot of gelatin and that it must contain at least 2 1/2 tablespoons. In hindsight (and after I researched it following my recipe failure), I realized that each 0.25 ounce packet only contains about a tablespoon of gelatin. (Note to self: Measure don’t guess when making recipes.)
Third, the recipe is a bit vague. It mentions straining the rhubarb juice at one point in the recipe, but at a later point, it mentions that the jellied rhubarb can be an excellent tart filling if it is not strained too thoroughly. This led me to decide to strain the cooked rhubarb, put the juice back in the pan, add the gelatin, and reheat until the gelatin was dissolved. I then stirred the rhubarb that I’d strained out back in. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that. The recipe mentions the tart filling in connection with “not thoroughly strained” rhubarb, not molded gelatin. In any case, adding the rhubarb back in would have increased the volume of the mixture, and it may have required additional gelatin if I wanted a firmly molded gelatin.
Bottom line, the series of mistakes and shortcuts that I took resulted in the recipe not turning out as the recipe author intended. After the rhubarb and gelatin mixture failed to properly jell, I considered reheating the mixture, straining it, and adding additional gelatin; but, in the end, I decided that I was happy with the dish that I got and didn’t do that.
Step 1. Put the diced rhubarb, sugar, and 2 cups of water in a large saucepan. Using medium heat, bring to a boil; reduce temperature and simmer until tender (about 5 minutes); stir occasionally. Remove from heat.
Step 2. In the meantime, put the 1/2 cup cold water in a small bowl. Sprinkle the gelatin on top of the water, and let soak for 15 minutes.
Step 3. Strain the cooked rhubarb. Keep both the rhubarb and the juice.
Step 4. Put the rhubarb juice back in the pan; add the gelatin that has been soaked in water.
Step 5. Bring back to a boil while stirring constantly.
Step 6. Remove from heat, and stir in the lemon juice, grated lemon rind, and the cooked rhubarb that previously had been strained out.
Step 7. Put in a bowl and put in the refrigerator; chill for at least 3 hours.
In a 1926 cookbook called, Mrs. Peterson’s Simplified Cooking, Mrs. Peterson writes that one of the most frequent questions she gets when conducting a cooking class is “What shall I do with egg yolks?”
Both a hundred years ago and now there are numerous recipes that call for egg white, and the cook ends up with leftover egg yolks. To assist readers, Mrs. Peterson provided a list of ways to use them.
Source: Mrs. Peterson’s Simplified Cooking (1926)
Intrigued by the Yellow Jacket Frosting suggestion, I flipped to the cookbook’s index and found the recipe for Yellow Jacket Frosting. According to the recipe, it is a lemon-colored, cooked frosting made using egg yolks, marshmallows, sugar, and Karo.
A recipe for Chicken Roll in a 1926 magazine intrigued me. The roll was made using Baking Powder Biscuit dough, then filled with a chopped chicken and olive mixture and rolled similarly to how a jelly roll is made.
The roll can be cut into rounds prior to baking. After it is baked, it is served with White Sauce.
The recipe turned out well. The Chicken Roll rounds made a nice presentation and were tasty. The tangy, briny olives provided the predominate flavor, with the taste of the chicken being much more nuanced. If I had been the recipe author, I would have called this food a Chicken and Olive Roll.
Source: Ladies Home Journal (June, 1926)
One-half teaspoon of scraped onion did not seem like very much, so I used 2 tablespoons of finely chopped onions.
I assumed that “olives” in the recipe referred to green stuffed olives.
I have made White Sauce so many times over the years that I didn’t need a recipe for it, but I did need a recipe for Baking Powder Biscuits. Here’s a hundred-year-old that I found for them:
Source: Pennsylvania State Grange Cook Book (1926)
As directed in the original Chicken Roll recipe, I doubled the amount of shortening when making the Baking Powder Biscuit dough.
After I added the milk, I mixed the dough with a fork rather than a knife.
When I rolled the dough to 1/3-inch thickness, it seemed rather thick, so I rolled it a little more to make it about 1/4-inch thick.
I cut the roll into rounds prior to baking. Two-inch thick rounds are very thick, so I cut them into 1-inch rounds.
My husband and I ate half the rounds one day, and I reheated the remainder the next. I made a half recipe of white sauce each day that we poured over the baked rounds of Chicken Roll.
Step 2. Put the chopped chicken, olives, onions, and paprika in a bowl. Stir to combine. Set aside.
Step 3. Make the Baking Powder Biscuit dough by combining the flour, baking powder, and salt in a mixing bowl, then cut in the shortening; add milk, and stir with a fork until the dough forms.
Step 4. Put the biscuit dough on a prepared surface, and roll the dough into a rectangle about 1/4 inch thick (approximately 9″ X 12″).
Step 5. Spread the chicken and olive mixture on the dough, then roll the dough starting at one of the short edges (similarly to how a jelly roll is rolled).
Step 6. Cut the roll into 1-inch thick rounds, then place the rounds on a lightly greased backing sheet.
Step. 7. Put in oven and bake for 12 – 15 minutes or until the rounds are lightly browned.
Step 8. In the meantime, make the White Sauce. In another pan, using medium heat, melt butter, then stir in the flour and salt. Gradually, add the milk while stirring constantly. Continue stirring until the white sauce begins to thicken.
Step 9. To serve, put the baked Chicken Roll rounds on a plate, and serve with the White Sauce (or, if desired, pour the White Sauce on the baked rounds prior to serving).
Source: Pennsylvania State Grange Cook Book (1926)
Sometimes old community and organizational cookbooks contain poems or sayings about food and cooking. The 1926 Pennsylvania State Grange Cookbook includes a recipe for doughnuts written in rhyme. I didn’t try making the recipe (Can you trust a recipe written as a poem?), but it was a fun read.
