Pease Pudding Hot

"Pease pudding hot, Pease pudding cold,
Pease pudding in the pot--nine days old.
Some like it hot, some like it cold,
Some like it in the pot, nine days old."

While the origins of "Pease Pudding Hot" are unknown, the dish described in the rhyme is a thick, smooth paste made from dried peas or lentils. Traditionally served with boiled bacon or a type of sausage called a saveloy, it appeared frequently on the tables of the lower classes, where, more often than was desired, it sat in a pot for nine days (or more), heated and then reheated until finished off.

Was nine-day-old pease pudding palatable, you ask? The July 24, 1884 edition of Knowledge, An Illustrated Magazine of Science reports that aged pease pudding was, in fact, a great treat. It mentions a reader who "has seven dishes of [pease pudding] in his larder, corresponding to the days of the week [and] each being seven days old." The brave reader claims old pease pudding is easier to digest than new. The editor of Knowledge, however, warns the nursery rhyme offers sage advice: Nine days is the limit pease pudding can be kept in a larder before it's likely to make the unwary diner ill.

More pease pudding, please!

The following recipe for pease pudding comes from Maria Eliza Ketelby Rundell's The New Family Receipt-Book (1810). Serve pease pudding with boiled pork or, if you are vegetarian, by itself. Do not, however, keep your pease pudding for more than a day or two without refrigeration.


Pease Pudding Hot

Take a pint of yellow split pease, and after tying them loosely in a cloth, boil them in water until they become tender. Then rub them through a cullender [colander] or hair sieve [sieve], and add to the pulp a bit of butter, a spoonful of cream, two eggs, and white pepper and salt. After being uniformly mixed, put the pease into a cloth; tie tightly, and boil for the space of half an hour, to make the ingredients set.

From Hermann, Missouri: Depression Caramels

In the early 1830s, the German Settlement Society of Philadelphia traveled to the lush and rugged Gasconade River Valley. There they founded the colony of Hermann, Missouri; the Society thought the Gasconade Valley, with its green rolling hills, resembled their beloved valley of the Rhine River, and they wanted to establish a German community devoted to farming and commerce in the heart of it.

The colony quickly grew into a town of successful vintners. The rocky hills of the Gasconade Valley, while inimical to farming, proved perfect for cultivating grapes, and large vineyards were planted along the hillsides.

A print of Hermann, Missouri from 1869

Business was brisk in Hermann until Prohibition, when the vineyards were forced to close. So devastating did Prohibition prove to the town that residents said the Great Depression ravaged Hermann ten years before it hit the rest of the country.

The following recipe for caramels comes from an old Hermann farming family. Dated 1938, it was found handwritten in a cookbook. Made from readily available ingredients, the caramels were a simple delight during the dark days of the Depression.


Hermann Caramels

2 cups sugar
1 can (1 cup) corn syrup
1 can (1 cup) milk
Pinch of salt
1/2 cup butter
1 tsp vanilla
Nuts, if desired

Put sugar, syrup, butter and salt in a saucepan. Cook into a clear, thick consistency. Add milk gradually so as to not stop the boiling. Cook until a firm ball forms. Add vanilla and nuts. Place in a buttered pan until cool. Put on a marble slab or oiled paper [wax paper] and cut into 1-inch squares. Wrap in oiled paper.

Bruegel's Harvest Meal: Buttermilk Porridge

Worn out from their morning's work in the wheat fields, the group of peasants in Pieter Bruegel the Elder's The Harvesters (1565) relax under a young tree and enjoy a meal of bread, cheese and porridge. Some peasants continue to work, tirelessly threshing a golden field of wheat that stretches far into the distance. They remind those who eat of the labor required to produce the hearty loaves of bread and creamy bowls of porridge enjoyed under the tree.

The Harvesters, 1565

Bruegel was a master in his painter's guild, but contemporaries called him "Pieter the Peasant" as he liked to dress in peasant's garb and attend peasant weddings and celebrations. His paintings then depict a world of lived experience. The meal enjoyed by the peasants, amid tall sheaves of wheat on a warm summer's day, was likely savored by Bruegel as well.

The peasants in The Harvesters are feasting on a sour milk pap--a common meal in the sixteenth century. Should you wish to enjoy a similar dish, here's a traditional recipe for a Dutch buttermilk porridge.


Buttermilk Porridge

4 1/2 cups (1 liter) buttermilk
3 ounces (60 grams) flour
molasses or stroop (syrup)
salt

Pour the flour into a bowl and add a pinch of salt. Pour in half the buttermilk and mix into a smooth paste. Boil the remaining buttermilk over medium heat and add the flour paste gradually, stirring constantly. Serve with stroop (a fruit syrup is particularly good) or molasses.

Mystic Baked Beans

Mystic, Connecticut was once a bustling port filled with whaling ships set to embark on dangerous, and lucrative, voyages across the world.

A ship's homecoming after such a voyage brought promise not only of valuable spermaceti, which was used in cosmetics and candles, but also of more exotic cargo, like tropical fruit and spices. Seafaring husbands would often bring their wives these goods from far-off places like New Zealand and Japan, and the suppers enjoyed on the eve of a ship's return were indeed festive affairs.

Mystic's most famous whaling ship: The Charles W. Morgan

Sometimes, if a whaler was lucky enough to have enjoyed a bit of leisure on the high seas, he would also present his wife with a crimping wheel or birdcage delicately carved from whalebone. Known as scrimshaw, these intricate works of whalebone were treasured by families of seafaring men.

But the return of a whaling ship was a special occasion. The lives of Mystic families were usually far more austere. Sunday heralded a roast beef, or some boiled fowl. The rest of the week saw stews of beans and root vegetables, with a piece or two of salt pork thrown in for flavor.

On the busiest day of the week, wash day, when the stove was taken over by boiling pans of water and steaming irons, only the simplest dish was served -- usually a sweet and savory pot of baked beans. Here's a traditional recipe, as recorded in The Mystic Seaport Cookbook, for a tasty pot of baked beans from an old seafaring family.


Sea Cook's Baked Beans

2 pounds dried beans
1/2 to 3/4 pound salt pork
1 apple
1 medium-sized onion (optional)
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup dark molasses
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 1/2 teaspoons salt

Soak beans in cold water overnight. In the morning, parboil until skins crack. Transfer to beanpot and add salt pork cut down to the rind in cubes. Cut the apple into chunks and bury them and the onion in the beans. Mix sugar, molasses, mustard, pepper and salt with about 2 cups boiling water and pour over beans and pork. Bake in a 300 degree F. oven for 6 hours. Add water when necessary. If you like the pork crisp, take off the cover for the last 30 minutes or so. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

Two Cooks and a Cabbage: A Film from Austerity Britain

Here's a 1941 instructional film from the Ministry of Food (see an earlier post on the Ministry of Food here). Entitled Two Cooks and a Cabbage, it champions the cause of frugality in the wartime kitchen.

Wheatless and Sugarless Wartime Cooking: Oat Flour Muffins

During the winter of 1917-1918, The Mrs. Farmer's School of Cookery developed a collection of recipes to aid the American housewife in conserving meat, wheat, sugar and fats. These austerity recipes were tested in the school's "Wartime Cookery" class.

The Mrs. Farmer's School of Cookery was started in 1902 in Boston, Massachusetts. It offered classes to both gentlewomen and housewives on the rudiments of cooking and household management. The Wartime Cookery class was just one of many classes offered at the school, which later came to specialize in convalescent diets.

Mrs. Fanny Farmer testing wartime recipes

Here's a recipe for oat flour muffins from Mrs. Farmer's Wartime Cookery class. Oat flour produces a delightfully light texture in baked goods. Should you not find oat flour in your area, grind oatmeal in a coffee grinder until fine.

Oat Flour Muffins

2 1/2 cups oat flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup milk

1 egg, well beaten

2 tablespoons molasses

1 tablespoon melted shortening

Mix dry ingredients together in a mixing bowl. Add milk, the egg, molasses and shortening. Bake in buttered gem [muffin] pans twenty-five minutes [in a medium oven]. This may be baked in a bread pan and sliced when cold.

The Gooseberry: A Cottager's Treat

Green and round with delicate translucent skin, the tart berries of the gooseberry bush first appear in June.

The plant grows in copses and hedgerows in areas of northern and central Europe; its origins are unknown, however. Pliny mentions it briefly. The plant was valued in the Middle Ages for its cooling properties in the treatment of fevers. But it wasn't widely cultivated until the sixteenth century, when skilled gardeners in Holland deliberately propagated the gooseberry for eating.

The gooseberry was a great favorite among the poor cottagers of Lancashire. They cultivated numerous varieties of gooseberry from seed in their small garden plots. An 1864 article from the Journal of Horticulture, Cottage Gardener and Country Gentlemen attributes the success of the gooseberry's "fruit culture" to the "humbler population" of the district who managed to increase the size of their gooseberries. The Journal urges its readers to imitate "the good works of these real cottage gardeners."

Today there are over two thousand varieties of gooseberry, with berries in all shades of color. Pink, white and yellow gooseberries are just a few of the color variations developed over the past centuries.

Gooseberries are eaten in pies, relishes, puddings and even omelets. Here's a nineteenth-century recipe for gooseberry preserves, much like the one enjoyed in those humble Lancashire cottages.

Gooseberry Preserves

For every quart of gooseberries, add one pound of granulated sugar, dissolving it in the preserving kettle [a heavy-bottomed saucepan] with as much water as it will take to make a syrup. Let it boil for twenty minutes, skimming well; then put in the gooseberries, and boil five minutes; then set by till the next day, then boil again until they [the gooseberries] have a clear look and the syrup is thick. Put up in jelly glasses, with brandied paper on top.

From Austerity Britain: Stuffed Cabbage

During the Second World War, the British Ministry of Food dealt with food shortages by instituting a system of rationing. Each citizen was given a ration booklet, which they had to present to their local shopkeeper. In exchange for money and ration tickets, the customer would receive a set amount of food.

In Britain, as in Germany, rationing was introduced early in the war. By late January 1940 many of the more common foodstuffs required ration tickets. Bacon, butter, marmalade and eggs were just a few of the items rationed by the Ministry of Food.

But the Ministry of Food didn't leave the citizenry unaided when it came to figuring out how to prepare the sometimes unappetizing rations. Using various media outlets to popularize recipes for making the most of one's meager allotment, the Ministry of Food helped the British housewife become accustomed to wartime austerity. Its recipes appeared in newspapers, radio broadcasts and postings in public buildings.

Not much good to eat: Rationing in Britain

Here's a recipe for stuffed cabbage from the March 29, 1941 edition of The Times of London. The cabbage and root vegetables help extend the meat, which was one of the foods rationed during the war.


Wartime Stuffed Cabbage

1 large cabbage
1 pound cooked meat, minced
4 ounces breadcrumbs
2 or 3 carrots
1 small turnip
1 parsnip
Salt and pepper to taste

Grate the raw vegetables and mix them together with the meat and breadcrumbs. Season with salt and pepper. Wash the cabbage and dry carefully before stuffing the mixed mince between the leaves. To make sure the leaves do not open, tie a string around the cabbage and then put it into a saucepan with a little boiling water. Put on the lid and cook steadily until tender. Save the water for soup or gravy.

From the Omalos Plateau: Cretan Rusk Salad

The high and rugged mountains of Crete span its entire length, forming three different ranges. One of these ranges, known as Lefka Ori, is famous for the plateau of Omalos, a circular plain surrounded by green, rounded mountains. For centuries the Omalos plateau was a strategic base for Cretan revolutionaries fighting invading armies.

But the Omalos plateau was also the site of more peaceful activities.

With its remarkably fertile soil, which in the springtime is blanketed in grasses and wild herbs, the Omalos plateau was a favorite place for stockbreeding. Stockbreeders would drive herds of goats and sheep to Omalos's verdant plains to feast on dittany and oregano, setting up camp for months at a time on the vast, empty stretches. There they lived lonely lives, with only a small camp fire and a few songs remembered from home to keep them company through the long nights on the plateau.

The Omalos plateau

For provisions, the stockbreeders brought rusks--baked by their wives specially for the journey--that they ate with aromatic soups and salads of wild herbs and snails. The rusks were made of roughly milled barley. Their coarse, dry texture guaranteed they would survive the journey into the mountains intact and, once there, stay fresh for months.

Cretan rusks from Cretan Diet and Recipes

Here's a recipe for a salad of Cretan rusks and fresh vegetables, a traditional dish enjoyed in Crete. Should Cretan rusks not be available your area, substitute day-old bread.


Cretan Rusk Salad

3 tomatoes
3 green peppers
1/2 large red onion
3 cucumbers, peeled
1/2 cup whole Greek olives
3/4 cup olive oil
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp lemon juice
3 Cretan rusks
salt and pepper
fresh oregano (can use dried)

Cut the tomatoes, peppers, onion and cucumbers into slices. Place in a large salad bowl. Mix olive oil, red wine vinegar and lemon juice. Break up Cretan rusks into small pieces. Sprinkle over salad with the olives. Pour dressing over salad and then season with oregano, salt and pepper.

Bedouin Tea: A Wandering People's Enduring Comfort

The young woman in Albert Camus's short story "The Adulterous Woman" finds herself in an Algerian hotel one night, alone with an indifferent and boorish husband.

While he sleeps soundly in bed she quietly leaves the room and walks to a nearby fortress. There she climbs to the fortress's parapet and gazes out over the vast, seemingly empty desert before her. Suddenly she catches sight of a band of nomads and feels an indescribable sense of longing. "Homeless, cut off from the world," the young woman observes, "they were a handful wandering over a vast territory."

Alone upon the parapet, under a sky of glinting stars, she realizes the nomads of the Algerian desert possess a freedom she will never have, that despite being poverty-stricken, they are "free lords of a strange kingdom."

A Bedouin encampment

The sadness and longing felt by the woman in Camus's story isn't hard to imagine. The tribes of nomads that wandered the deserts of North Africa were indeed lords of a strange and desolate kingdom, where their sovereignty was seldom challenged for 1,300 years.

Otherwise known as Bedouins, they lived austere lives amid sun and sand, wandering from oasis to oasis, trading handicrafts and herding cattle. But despite their difficult lives, they developed a rich oral tradition of poetry and proverbs, as well as a complex culinary history, the ingredients for which they acquired through barter with more sedentary peoples.

The following recipe for spiced tea was, and still is, frequently enjoyed by the Bedouin. It's a rare oasis in what can otherwise be a desert when it comes to flavorful fare. Experiment with different herbs and spices until you find a recipe that suits your taste.


Bedouin Tea

4 tsp dried thyme, or sage (Bedouins use the desert herbs habuck and marmaraya)
2 cardamon pods
1 cinnamon stick
4 teaspoons loose black tea
Honey, if desired

Heat 4 1/2 cups water with the thyme, cardamon pods, cinnamon stick and black tea. Simmer for five minutes. Turn off heat and steep for five minutes. Strain tea and serve with honey, if desired.

From the Viennese Woods: Bärlauch Soup

Walk through the Viennese woods on a warm, spring day and you will inevitably happen upon clusters of bärlauch, or wild garlic. Its pungent aroma fills the air, and its large emerald green leaves, out of which peek sprays of white flowers, carpet the forest floor.

To many Austrians, bärlauch is a welcome sight, one associated with springtime soups and tart, creamy spreads tasting of onion and chives.

A forest floor carpeted with bärlauch

But in days past bärlauch was more than just a springtime treat; it helped many Austrians survive the last days of the Second World War. During the cold, wet spring 0f 1945, when the Soviets broke through German defenses and advanced to Vienna, many civilians, faced with dwindling rations and little hope of securing fresh provisions, looked to bärlauch as an important source of food. Those lucky enough to own a Sommerhütte, or summer cabin, fled to the rolling hills of the Viennese woods, where the plant grows in abundance. There they harvested the bärlauch clusters and prepared simple soups, without cream or seasoning.

Bärlauch

Bärlauch soup was usually the only meal of the day in those summer cabins. The garlicly broth was welcome, though; filled with vitamin C and other nutrients, it helped many Austrians fend off starvation during the final days of battle that spring of 1945.

Here's a traditional bärlauch soup recipe translated from the German. While not as austere as the soup eaten during the war, it is just as nourishing. You can find bärlauch, also known as ramson, growing wild in deciduous forests.


Bärlauch Soup

50 grams bärlauch
1 onion
20 grams butter
20 grams flour
1/8 liter milk
3/4 liter soup stock
white pepper
salt
100 grams cream

Wash the bärlauch thoroughly and cut it into thin strips. Dice the onion and place in a large soup pot with the butter. Cook over medium heat until the onions are transparent. Add the flour, mix into the onions and then add the milk, making a smooth sauce. Add the soup stock and bärlauch strips. Cook the soup for ten minutes on low heat.

Puree the soup with either with a handmixer, or in a food processor. Season with white pepper and salt.

Beat the cream until stiff. Shortly before serving, whisk the beaten cream into the soup. Serve with a crusty white bread, such as Vienna rolls.

Girl Scout Fare: Biscuit Loaf

"A Girl Scout is Thrifty"

Taken from the 1920 Scouting for Girls, the original Girl Scouting handbook, the motto above was one of ten that American Girl Scouts lived by. Started in 1912 by Mrs. Juliette Low, the Girl Scouts encouraged independence, thrift, cheerfulness, loyalty and obedience. The ideal Girl Scout was brave and resourceful. She knew first aid and how to best store potatoes in a country cellar. She could march for miles in pouring rain and decode semaphore signals. Like their British sisters, the American Girl Scouts were intended to be an asset to both family and country.

The Girl Scouts also sought to foster a love of the outdoors, and frequent camping trips taught young scouts how to deftly withstand the elements and cultivate survival skills like fire building and outdoor cookery. Girl Scout camps lacked frills -- just a few spare shelters of canvas and wood in which to pass the night sufficed for the troops. During meals, the scouts prepared their provisions in tin pots and frying pans, using "camp cranes," a horse of pine tree branches, to hold the larger pots over the camp fire.

Girl Scouts at camp

Simple fare nourished the Girl Scouts. They enjoyed beef stews, boiled potatoes and hot cocoa on their camping trips. "Biscuit Loaf," the standard camp bread, was especially popular; it accompanied almost every meal. Here's a recipe from the 1920 handbook. You need not make this bread over a camp fire, however. Bake it in a medium oven ( 350 degrees F.) for approximately one hour, or until golden brown.


Biscuit Loaf

(Serves 4)

3 pints flour, 3 heaping teaspoonfuls baking powder, 1 heaping teaspoonful salt, 2 heaping tablespoonfuls cold grease, 1 scant pint cold water. Amount of water varies according to quality of flour.

Mix thoroughly, with a big spoon or wooden paddle, first the baking powder with the flour and then the salt. Rub into this the cold grease (which may be lard, cold pork fat, drippings) until there are no lumps left and no grease adhering to the bottom of the pan. This is a little tedious, but don't shirk it.

Then stir in the water and work it with spoon until you have a rather stiff dough. Have the pan greased. Turn the load into it and bake. Test center of loaf with a sliver when you think properly done. When no dough adheres remove bread. All hot breads should be broken with the hand, never cut.

To freshen any that is left over and dried out, sprinkle a little water over it and heat through. This can be done but once.

Depression Hermits

The lowly hermit has all but been forgotten these days.

A favorite during the Great Depression, the hermit is a square, soft cookie filled with nuts and raisins. It's origins are a mystery -- some say the recipe came from Moravians who settled in Pennsylvania during the nineteenth century. Others theorize that the hermit's history is rooted firmly in New England. Either way, one can attribute the cookie's popularity to its ease of preparation and long shelf life.

Hermits from Monastic Greetings

There are hundreds of hermit recipes out there. Here's a hermit recipe based on the original recipe from Miss Fanny Farmer's cookbook, published in 1896. It was supposedly the first hermit recipe to appear in print.

Hermits

1/3 cup butter
2/3 cup sugar
1 egg, well beaten
2 Tbs milk
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/3 cup raisins, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup nut meats
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon clove
1/4 teaspoon mace
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

Cream the butter, then add sugar gradually. Once the sugar and butter are creamed together, add the raisins, nutmeats, egg, and milk. Mix dry ingredients and add to creamed mixture. Dough should be firm, but pliable. Roll dough into long strips lengthwise on a greased cookie sheet. Bake at 350° for about 8-10 minutes, until lightly browned. Cut each strip into 2-inch bars while still warm.

The hermit's spicy nature ensures that it will last for weeks in a tightly closed tin.

On the Oregon Trail: Molasses Butter

The Oregon Trail stretched from the Missouri River to the Oregon territory. During the Great Migration of 1843, settlers from as far as New England traveled its two thousand miles, hoping for a new, more prosperous life in the Oregon territory. They traveled in convoys, and long lines of wagons pulled by weary oxen dotted the trail in an otherwise desolate landscape.

A high degree of organization was necessary during the journey. Danger lurked around every corner: wild animals, famine, hostile natives and unpredictable weather all threatened to disrupt the convoy's westward progress. The convoy's leader, usually an official elected by democratic vote at the beginning of the journey, decided on the safest camping sites and kept order among the convoy's many families.

The Oregon Trail

At night the convoys stopped to rest. Camp fires festooned with cauldrons and pots burned brightly against the dark night of the American wilderness as the settlers gathered to prepare their suppers. The meals were meager, but filling -- salt pork, flour, beans and cornmeal made up the bulk of the provisions on the Oregon Trail. When cream was available, the settlers churned it into butter in the wagons as they rocked along their rough, uneven route.

Wagons along the Oregon Trail

The settlers frequently mixed their fresh-churned butter with molasses and eggs, creating a delightful, spicy spread for cornbread, another food popular on the trail. Here's a recipe for the molasses butter enjoyed on the Oregon Trail. Serve it with a hearty cornbread or another variety of quick bread, like banana or pumpkin.


Oregon Trail Molasses Butter

1 cup molasses
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
Pinch baking soda
Salt
2 eggs, well-beaten

Mix molasses, butter, nutmeg, soda and a pinch of salt in heavy saucepan. Bring to a boil over low heat. Beat eggs in a separate bowl. Stir moderate amount of hot mixture into eggs. Return the egg mixture to the saucepan. Cook and stir till thick, about one minute. Chill. Makes 1 1/2 cups.

From a Monastery Kitchen: Minestrone Soup

In honor of Easter, The Austerity Kitchen brings you a recipe for a tasty, springtime soup from the Our Lady of the Resurrection Monastery, located near Millbrook, New York. Throughout the centuries, monastic cooking has been distinctive for its emphasis on frugality, wholesome ingredients and the seasonality of the fruit and vegetables used in its recipes. You can find more monastic recipes in Brother Victor-Antoine d' Avila-Latourrette's From a Monastery Kitchen: The Classic Natural Foods Cookbook.

An eighteenth-century monastery near Magdeburg, Germany

Minestrone Monastico

(Serves 6-8)

3 quarts water
4 carrots
1 cup dry white beans
4 potatoes
1 cup green beans
2 celery stalks
3 onions
1/2 cup plus two tablespoons olive oil
1 cup white wine
1 cup macaroni
tarragon, minced
salt and pepper to taste
grated Parmesan cheese

Wash the vegetables and peel the carrots, potatoes, and onions. Cut all the vegetables in small pieces. Pour the water into a large pot and add all the vegetables, except the onions. Cook slowly over medium heat for 1 hour.

Saute the onions in the 2 tablespoons of oil in a large frying pan until golden. Reserve.

After an hour of slow cooking, add the onions, wine, olive oil to taste (up to 1/2 cup), macaroni, tarragon, salt, and pepper. Continue cooking for another 15 minutes. Cover the pan and allow soup to simmer for 10 minutes. Serve the minestrone hot, with grated Parmesan cheese.

Serve this soup with a crusty, Italian bread.

Velázquez's Spanish Eggs

The old woman in Diego Velázquez's 1618 painting Old Woman Cooking Eggs is lean and gaunt. But her bony hands deftly handle the frying pan in which she prepares her mid-day meal--perhaps her only meal of the day--of eggs fried in olive oil with garlic, pimento and onion. The peasant boy looking on offers her a melon and a jug of wine, lush accompaniments to an otherwise austere meal.

Old Woman Cooking Eggs, 1618

Velázquez frequently used working-class characters in his early paintings, and his penchant for detail brings to life the daily rituals of his subjects, as in Old Woman Cooking Eggs. We can see the woman's everyday plates, pans and cutlery. We can almost hear her eggs sputtering in the oil. Velázquez's painting invites us to share the peasant woman's meal, tempting us with details of its dignified simplicity.

Should you wish to prepare the Spanish eggs of Velázquez's painting, try the following recipe. It follows the basic recipe of eggs fried with onion and pimento, but adds tomatoes and bell peppers for a touch of freshness.


Spanish Eggs

(Serves 5)

4 tablespoons olive oil
2 green bell peppers, seeded and chopped
4 ripe tomatoes, seeded and chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 tablespoons chopped pimento
Salt and pepper to taste
10 eggs

Heat the oil in a large skillet over high heat and saute the peppers and onion until tender but not brown, about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and saute 5 minutes. Add the pimento, season with salt and pepper and simmer until slightly thickened, about 3-5 minutes.

In a separate pan, fry the eggs in olive oil, until yolks are firm.

Spoon the vegetable mixture onto a large serving platter and top with fried eggs. Serve with fresh melon and a crusty, white bread.

A Video on Lefse ... and a New Commenting System

Many of you left kind and helpful comments on the site -- thank you! Unfortunately, the Blogger commenting system devoured them. So I've installed JS-Kit, a commenting system that is quite user friendly and hopefully more dependable. Please let me know if you experience any problems using it.

Below is a video on making lefse from Gwen Katula, a lefse expert!

Lefse: A Norwegian Staple

The northernmost regions of Norway simultaneously enchant and terrify. In winter darkness reigns over the land; in summer, the sun never sets. Vast, craggy forests of pine stretch as far as the eye can see, and high-walled, icy fjords cut into the coastline. It is a landscape that, in centuries past, bred belief in fairies and trolls, evil creatures that supposedly made their homes among the towering pines.

For the human inhabitants of this strange and sometimes hostile land, life was difficult. The steep, rocky coastline hindered the transportation of goods to the inland towns. The mountains made it impossible to harvest cereal grains and cultivate orchards. Of Norway's 125,000 square miles of country, little more than 5,000 are arable.

Lefse

But the people of northern Norway found great comfort in food. They did their best with what staples they could procure, developing an impressive repertoire of rye breads, reindeer stews and rice puddings -- vigorous dishes that could provide warmth and sustenance during the cold winters. Lefse, a popular flatbread, frequently accompanied these meals. Here's a traditional recipe for lefse from RecipeZaar:


Norwegian Lefse

2 cups of plain mashed potatoes
2 tablespoons milk
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup flour
vegetable oil

Directions:

In a large mixing bowl mix potatoes, milk, butter, salt and 3/4 cup of flour.

Knead briefly on lightly floured board, adding additional flour to keep the dough from sticking.

Divide dough into 12 equal balls; roll each on lightly floured board into a circle paper thin.

Lightly oil a heavy skillet or crepe pan; set over medium heat.

Cook one at a time, until lightly browned, about one minute on each side.

Stack on a plate with a paper towel in between each one.

Freeze leftovers, and thaw throughout the year and enjoy a favorite anytime.

Serve lefse with butter for savory dishes, or sprinkle it with cinnamon and sugar for a breakfast treat.

Watercress: A Victorian Superfood

At the mention of watercress, we often think of afternoon tea parties and anemic sandwiches with their crusts neatly removed.

But watercress was a favorite of the Victorian working classes, who valued its spicy, tangy flavor and relative cheapness -- watercress sold for a few pence a bundle, a price well within the budget of even the poorest laborer. They paired it with plain, black bread for lunch and sometimes, when times were tougher than usual, dinner. For laborers living under the worst conditions, the black bread and watercress sandwich was the only food available.

Watercress

The Victorian working classes actually benefitted from their watercress-based diets. A recent article in the Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine concluded that watercress, which is packed full of vitamins and minerals, contributed to the surprisingly good health of early-Victorian laborers.

Luckily watercress could be found on almost any street corner in larger cities like London. Watercress sellers would stand with their wooden carts and baskets from sunrise to sunset, tempting every man and women who passed with mountains of glistening watercress, which they sold in paper-wrapped bunches. Customers would frequently eat their watercress right out of the paper wrappers, enjoying the plant as one would enjoy an ice-cream cone.

A postcard of a watercress seller

Watercress is available in most supermarkets for about $0.70 a bunch. The Austerity Kitchen does not recommend you eat your watercress plain, however. Instead, try it in salads and soups. Its peppery flavor goes well with many savory dishes. Here's a delightful recipe from watercress.co.uk, a website devoted to promoting the cause of watercress:

Watercress Omelette with Mushroom and Stilton

0.5 ounces butter
2.5 ounces mushrooms
3 eggs
1 ounce Stilton, or cheese of your choice
1.5 ounces watercress

Melt the butter in a non-stick frying pan. Add the sliced mushrooms and cook over a high heat until golden brown. Remove from the pan with a slotted spoon. Stir a handful of chopped watercress into the beaten eggs and season with salt and pepper. Pour the eggs into the hot pan and tilt the pan to cover the base with the mixture.

Reduce heat to moderate and cook until the omelet is just set and the underside is golden brown. Scatter the mushrooms and Stilton over the top. Slide the omelette on to the plate and fold in half. Garnish with extra watercress and serve immediately.

If you want to save a few dollars, substitute Feta cheese for Stilton. Serve this omelette with a green salad and, of course, black bread!

The Austerity Kitchen Challenge: Frugal Fruit Salad

Produce is expensive. While shopping the other day, I noticed grapes were $2.50 a pound, and peaches $3.00. Not fare for an austere diet, for sure.

So I decided to develop a "frugal" fruit salad for this month's Austerity Kitchen Challenge. Frugal Fruit Salad depends on canned fruit cocktail as a base. This shaves a couple dollars off the overall price of the salad as a 15-ounce (125 grams) can of fruit cocktail retails for about $0.85. I prefer Aldi's Fit&Active light fruit cocktail. Aldi packs their fruit in pear juice rather than syrup, which lends a nice freshness to the fruit. But you can substitute any brand of canned fruit cocktail packed in juice.

The foundation of fruity frugality

With canned fruit cocktail as a base, you need only add one or two fresh fruits to impart an added toothsomeness to your salad. And you can easily control the amount of fruit salad you make -- no need to use up an entire pineapple, or a dozen peaches before they rot.

Frugal Fruit Salad sets you back about $1.10, depending on the fresh fruit you use in the salad.


Frugal Fruit Salad

(Serves Four)

1 15-ounce can fruit salad packed in juice
1 grapefruit, or 2 oranges
1 banana
1-2 tsp sugar, or sweetener of your choice
cinnamon to taste

Placed canned fruit salad in a serving bowl. Cut up the fresh fruit into small chunks. Add to the canned fruit salad. Sprinkle sugar and cinnamon over the salad. Refrigerate for two hours before serving.

Steerage Soup: Third-Class Dining on the Titanic

The Titanic set sail from Southampton on April 10, 1912 with a treasure trove of culinary delights.

The ship carried in its hold a few hundred tons of foodstuffs for the voyage, including 2,500 pounds of sausage, 36,000 oranges, 1,500 gallons of milk, 40,000 eggs, 1,000 bottles of wine and 800 bundles of fresh asparagus.

But while the Astors and Guggenheims sipped champagne and crunched asparagus in first class, the passengers in steerage dined on more austere fare. A typical dinner menu in steerage included rice soup, corned beef and biscuits. Fresh fruit served as a dessert.

The Third-Class Dining Saloon

Coming from countries like Norway and Ireland, where fresh fruit and vegetables were scare, the Titanic's third-class passengers found their menu almost luxurious. In fact the Titanic's kitchen staff did do their best to provide meals that the passengers would find comforting and nutritious.

I've included a recipe for rice soup, much like the one enjoyed by the Titanic's third-class passengers. It's a simple dish, but tasty:

Cream of Rice Soup

2 qts chicken stock

1 cup rice

1 qt cream or milk

1 small onion

1 stalk of celery

Salt and pepper to taste

Fresh herbs (optional)

Lightly brown the onions and celery. Add chicken stock.

Wash rice carefully, and add to chicken stock, onion and celery. Simmer slowly for two hours

Put soup through a sieve; add seasoning and the milk or cream. Bring the soup to a simmer again, and simmer for five minutes. Add fresh herbs to taste.

Serve this soup with biscuits, like the Titanic's kitchen staff did, or a green salad.

Tasty Prussian Rations: Erbswurst

When the Franco-Prussian War broke out in 1870, Prussia struggled to feed its soldiers. Previously, it served them pea soup and bread. But soup is messy, and bread quickly becomes moldy. The Prussian army needed rations that were tasty, satisfying and convenient.

The Prussian state turned to Heinrich Grueneberg for a solution. In 1867 Grueneberg invented the "Erbswurst," a sausage made from dried bacon and pea flour that could be quickly rehydrated in a mess tin. The Erbswurst proved the perfect food for the Prussian army, as it was tasty and keep well under the worst conditions. The Prussians built a large factory, which employed 1200 people, for making the sausage. The Erbswurst factory produced 5,000 tons of "sausage" during the war.

The Mighty Erbswurst

Perhaps the Erbswurst helped the Prussians defeat the French. It certainly proved popular: In 1899, Knorr purchased the license for the recipe. It continues the production of the Erbswurst to the present day.

Finding Erbswurst in the United States might be a challenge. But you can approximate the taste by making a hearty split pea soup. Here's a fantastic recipe from Saveur, via The Bitten Word:


German Split Pea Soup (Erbsensuppe)

2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
2 slices bacon, finely chopped
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 rib celery, finely chopped
1 large carrot, peeled and finely chopped
1 small celery root, peeled and finely chopped
Kosher salt, to taste
2 tbsp. flour
10 sprigs flat-leaf parsley
8 sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
1 lb. green split peas, rinsed and drained
2 large smoked ham hocks (about 2 lbs. total)
Fresh black pepper, to taste

Directions:

Place oil and bacon in a 6-qt. pot and cook over medium-high heat until crisp, about 6 minutes. Transfer bacon to paper towel with a slotted spoon; set aside. Add onions, celery, carrots, and celery root, season with salt, and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, about 10 minutes. Stir in flour; cook for 3 minutes.

Tie parsley, thyme, and bay leaves together with kitchen twine; add to pot with peas, ham hocks, and 7 cups water. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, until peas are very tender, about 1 hour. Remove from heat. Discard herbs. Transfer hocks to a plate to let cool; pull off and chop the meat; discard fat, skin, and bones. Stir meat into soup, season with salt and pepper, and ladle soup into bowls. Sprinkle with reserved bacon and ground pepper.

Serve with a sour rye bread and butter.

Great Depression Cooking

Check out the Great Depression Cooking series from Clara Cannucciari! Here's a video of the first part, where Clara prepares pasta with peas:

Parting the Ox and His Tail: A Recipe for Oxtail Soup

During the Great Depression, folks boiled a lot of bones. But it wasn't as gruesome as it sounds. They were making delightful, inexpensive and nutritious soups. Oxtail soup was one of them.

A hearty dish filled with chunks of beef and fresh vegetables, oxtail soup is the perfect dish for a winter evening. You can leave it simmering all day in a crockpot, or quickly prepare it on the stove top. Either way, oxtail soup is sure to please. And at only a dollar per serving, who could resist?

Oxtail Soup

(Serves 5)

1 pound beef oxtail
6 potatoes, chopped
2 onions, chopped
2 Roma (plum) tomatoes, quartered
6 stalks celery, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1/2 medium head cabbage, chopped
4 cubes beef bouillon
ground black pepper to taste

Directions:

In a large stock pot add oxtail, potatoes, onion, tomatoes, celery, carrots, and cabbage. Fill stock pot with water until all ingredients are covered.

Stir in bouillon cubes and season with pepper. Cook over medium heat until vegetables are tender and oxtails are cooked through; the meat should easily flake off them.

Serve oxtail soup with a hearty, wholegrain bread.

Clostridium Capers: The Wonders of Salt Rising Bread

Salt rising bread is a natural marvel. A bit of cornmeal, a splash of milk and a few cups of flour result in beautiful loaves of delicious bread.

While its exact origins are unknown, salt rising bread was first popular in Ireland and Scotland during the seventeenth century. Its popularity continued well into the twentieth century, especially during times of rationing and dearth, as the bread has an earthy, cheesy flavor that precludes the need for additional toppings. This cheesy flavor comes from Clostridium, the bacteria that leavens the bread.

A loaf of salt rising bread

Naturally present on coarse-grind cornmeal, Clostridium just needs some milk (or water), potatoes and salt to leaven this unique bread. And it will only cost you a $1.50 per loaf!

Amishrecipes.net has a fantastic salt rising bread recipe:

Amish Salt Rising Bread Recipe

2 1/2 cups potatoes, sliced
2 tablespoons cornmeal
1 1/2 tablespoons salt
1 quart boiling water
1 1/2 teaspoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup warm milk
1 tablespoon shortening, melted
11 cups flour

Sprinkle 1 tablespoon salt and the cornmeal over potatoes. Add boiling water and stir until salt has dissolved. Cover and keep warm from noon to the following morning.

Drain off liquid into a large bowl. Add the baking soda, 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar and 5 cups flour to the liquid. Stir until ingredients are well blended. This sponge should be the consistency of cake batter. Set mixture in a warm place, and let rise until light and full of bubbles. This requires about 1 1/2 hours.

Scald milk and cool to lukewarm. Add shortening. Add milk and remaining flour to sponge. Knead for 10 to 12 minutes and shape into loaves. Makes 3 medium-size loaves. Let rise until light - about 1 1/2 hours.

Bake at 350 degrees F for 1 hour.

"Bean" Down So Long that It Looks Like Beef to Me

Here's a tasty and economical dish from A Veggie Venture. There's nothing cheaper, and more nutritious, than beans. The ham bone adds a touch of flavor -- leave it out if you prefer your soup vegetarian. Serve this with a hunk of wholegrain sourdough bread. The price: About $6.50 for the entire meal. Not bad!


15-Bean Soup

Hands-on time: 5 minutes the night before, 15 minutes the next day
Time to table: 12 - 24 hours
Makes 11 cups

20 ounces assorted beans
1 big ham bone (my choice, but could use a couple of ham hocks or some sliced ham)
1 large onion, chopped
15 ounces canned diced tomato
1 teaspoon chili powder
Juice of a lemon (don't skip this)
1 - 2 cloves garlic, minced (I used a tablespoon from a jar)
SPICE PACKET - I ignored this

NIGHT BEFORE: Rinse the beans and pick out any dried beans. Cover with 2 quarts of water and leave to soak overnight. The beans will expand about 3X so be sure your pot is big enough. Drain the water.

DAY OF: Put the beans in a very large pot or Dutch oven. Cover with two quarts of new water. Add the ham bone (or whatever you're using) and onion. (The bag says to add the onion just a half hour before serving. To my taste, the onion was completely raw like that.) Bring to a boil, reduce heat and let simmer for 2 1/2 hours. If a kind of scummy foam rises to the top, scrape it off with a slotted spoon and discard.

Add the tomatoes, garlic, chili powder and lemon juice and let simmer for another 30 - 60 minutes. At this point, Mary some times adds a can of drained and rinsed beans.