century the old-fashioned dishes, better suited
to the country than to the Court taste, re-
mained in fashion, and are included in
receipt-books, even in that published by
Joseph Cooper, who had been head-cook to
Charles I., and who styles his 1654 volume
“The Art of Cookery Refined and Aug-
mented.” He gives us two varieties of oat-
meal-pudding, French barley-pudding, and
hasty-pudding in a bag. There is a direction
for frying mushrooms, which were growing
more into favour at the table than in the days
when Castelvetri, whom I cite in my mono-
graph on Gardening, was among us. Another
dainty is an ox-palate pie.
Cooper’s Preface is quaint, and surely
modest enough. “ Though the cheats,” says
he, “of some preceding pieces that treated
on this subject (whose Title-pages, like the
contents of a weekly Pamphlet, promised
much more than the Books performed) may
have provided this but a cold intertainment
at its first coming abroad ; yet I know it will
not stay long in the world, before every
rational reader will clear it of all alliance to
Cookery Books.
7$
those false pretenders. Ladies, forgive my
confidence, if I tell you, that I know this
piece will prove your favourite.”
Yet Cooper’s performance, in spite of its
droll, self-complacent vein in the address to
the Reader, is a judicious and useful selec-
tion, and was, in fact, far more serviceable to
the middle-class gentry than some of those
which had gone before. It adapted itself to
sundry conditions of men ; but it kept in view
those whose purses were not richly lined
enough to pay for dainties and “ subtleties.”
It is pleasant to see that, after the countless
centuries which had run out since Arthur, the
bag-pudding and hot-pot maintained their
ground — good, wholesome, country fare.
After the fall of the Monarchy in 1648,
the chef de cuisine probably found his occu-
pation gone, like a greater man before him ;
and the world may owe to enforced repose
this condescension to the pen by the deposed
minister of a king.
Soon after the Restoration it was that
some Royalist brought out a small volume
called “ The Court and Kitchen of Elizabeth,
Cookery Books.
• 74
commonly called Joan Cromwell, the wife
of the late Usurper, truly described and
represented,” i2mo, 1664. Its design was
to throw ridicule on the parsimony of the
Protectoral household. But he recites some
excellent dishes which made their appear-
ance at Oliver’s table : Dutch puddings,
Scotch collops of veal, marrow puddings,
sack posset, boiled woodcocks, and warden
pies. He seems to have understood that
eight stone of beef were cooked every morn-
ing for the establishment, and all scraps were
diligently collected, and given alternately to
the poor of St. Margaret’s, Westminster, and
St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. The writer ac-
quaints us that, when the Protector enter-
tained the French ambassador and the
Parliament, after the Sindercome affair, he
only spent ^1,000 over the banquet, of
which the Lady Protectress managed to save
^200. Cromwell and his wife, we are told,
did not care for suppers, but contented them-
selves with eggs and slops.
A story is told here of Cromwell and his
wife sitting down to a loin of veal, and his
Cookery Books.
75
calling for an orange, which was the sauce he
preferred to that joint, and her highness
telling him that he could not have one, for
they were not to be had under a groat.
Page 23
Presented as published in 1886. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
century the old-fashioned dishes, better suited to the country than to the Court taste, remained in fashion, and are included in receipt-books, even in that published by Joseph Cooper, who had been head-cook to Charles I., and who styles his 1654 volume “The Art of Cookery Refined and Augmented.” He gives us two varieties of oatmeal-pudding, French barley-pudding, and hasty-pudding in a bag. There is a direction for frying mushrooms, which were growing more into favour at the table than in the days when Castelvetri, whom I cite in my monograph on Gardening, was among us. Another dainty is an ox-palate pie.
Cooper’s Preface is quaint, and surely modest enough. “ Though the cheats,” says he, “of some preceding pieces that treated on this subject (whose Title-pages, like the contents of a weekly Pamphlet, promised much more than the Books performed) may have provided this but a cold intertainment at its first coming abroad ; yet I know it will not stay long in the world, before every rational reader will clear it of all alliance to
Cookery Books.
7$
those false pretenders. Ladies, forgive my confidence, if I tell you, that I know this piece will prove your favourite.”
Yet Cooper’s performance, in spite of its droll, self-complacent vein in the address to the Reader, is a judicious and useful selection, and was, in fact, far more serviceable to the middle-class gentry than some of those which had gone before. It adapted itself to sundry conditions of men ; but it kept in view those whose purses were not richly lined enough to pay for dainties and “ subtleties.” It is pleasant to see that, after the countless centuries which had run out since Arthur, the bag-pudding and hot-pot maintained their ground — good, wholesome, country fare.
After the fall of the Monarchy in 1648, the chef de cuisine probably found his occupation gone, like a greater man before him ; and the world may owe to enforced repose this condescension to the pen by the deposed minister of a king.
Soon after the Restoration it was that some Royalist brought out a small volume called “ The Court and Kitchen of Elizabeth,
Cookery Books.
• 74
commonly called Joan Cromwell, the wife of the late Usurper, truly described and represented,” i2mo, 1664. Its design was to throw ridicule on the parsimony of the Protectoral household. But he recites some excellent dishes which made their appearance at Oliver’s table : Dutch puddings, Scotch collops of veal, marrow puddings, sack posset, boiled woodcocks, and warden pies. He seems to have understood that eight stone of beef were cooked every morning for the establishment, and all scraps were diligently collected, and given alternately to the poor of St. Margaret’s, Westminster, and St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. The writer acquaints us that, when the Protector entertained the French ambassador and the Parliament, after the Sindercome affair, he only spent ^1,000 over the banquet, of which the Lady Protectress managed to save ^200. Cromwell and his wife, we are told, did not care for suppers, but contented themselves with eggs and slops.
A story is told here of Cromwell and his wife sitting down to a loin of veal, and his
Cookery Books.
calling for an orange, which was the sauce he preferred to that joint, and her highness telling him that he could not have one, for they were not to be had under a groat.