Syllabub & Candy Memories

  http://amzn.to/1YQziX0  A Master Passion   ISBN: 1771456744
Alexander and his Betsy

A delicious 18th Century treat with which our Founders--and their wives--were entirely familiar.  I'm sure the Hamiltons served this at their dinner parties, especially during the spring, when the cows have freshened and the cream is at its thickest.

Here's a recipe, a variant of many to be found on the web or, yesterday, in what are now historic cookbooks. 

1/4 cup sweet white wine such as Riesling or Gewurztraminer, or, if you want it less sweet, Chablis
2 TBS Brandy (Golden Brandy gives a paler color)
1/2 cup of sugar
1/2 vanilla bean seeded
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 tsp. lemon zest


4 wine glasses

In a small nonreactive bowl, mix wine, sugar, zest from lemon and the vanilla bean. Let this stand over night in the fridge.

12 hours later, remove the vanilla bean. Using another chilled bowl, take the heavy cream and  using a whisk + elbow grease or an electric mixer, whip 'till it forms soft peaks. (Take care not to over work it and turn the cream into butter.)  When the peaks form, spoon into glasses and let stand.

As the picture above, I use wine glasses (these look like Colonial Williamsburg glasses to me) filled 1/2 to 3/4 full, then covered with plastic film and stored in the fridge. After an overnight, the mixture will separate, leaving a layer of cream on top of a liquid. The longer it stands, the more separation you get. The bottom liquid will show the color of whatever wine + brandy was used. Use any brandy you like.

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This is a modern recipe. No fridge or plastic film in the 18th Century. They simply stood the glasses on a table, covering them with a clean cloth to keep would-be buggy diners from drowning themselves. The acidic nature of the dessert would preserve it at room temperature for some days. I've seen some 18th Century sieve gizmos which they used to lift the head of cream from the glass, then they'd serve the syllabub as a two-parter, using the wine/brandy liquid for a chaser.  (I prefer to spoon a little of both out of a wine glass, and then, child-like, slap the cream straight down on my tongue. (Many years ago I knew a little girl who turned her jelly sandwiches jelly side down each time she took a bite. I think I got the idea of eating Syllabub that way from her.) Another method was to use the cream as a topper for fresh fruit, while enjoying the liquid in a separate glass.

***

A Sugary Digression:  

In my grade school days, I lived in Skaneateles, NY, where we were snowed in for what felt like eons. Sometimes I entertained myself with a candy recipe book that had been written before World War One; it had my Grandma Liddle's name inside the front flap. 

The directions said things like: "Take a piece of butter about the size of your thumb..." (My thumb? Your thumb? All of my thumb? To the first joint?") I'd just have to guess. This was, in a way, a great cook book for a kid in a way because it made me think and also try to learn more about ingredients. I'd also ask my adults questions, something that my parents thought was mostly a good thing.

What I created sometimes worked--consistency is a hob-goblin of mine--but sometimes I'd end up with chocolate cement or--if you yanked it off the fire prematurely-- syrup. The last could be poured over ice cream, which wasn't a bad option, but let's face it, a lump of sugar + cocoa makes a great "gateway" drug for most kids. It wasn't a bad way to spend some of a snowy Sunday.
                                                              ***

Syllabub is very sweet, so something plain, like crackers or tinned biscuits or good homemade rolls may be served with it.  You'll often see plates of these items in period pictures of Syllabub parties.

The excerpt which follows is taken from Hannah Wooley's "The Queen-like Closet" recipe book, (London; 1674)

Take one Quart of cream, one Pint and an half of Wine or Sack, the Juice of two Limons with some of the Pill, and a Branch of Rosemary, sweeten it very well, then put a little of this Liquor and alittel of the Cream into a Basin and beat them till it froth, put that Froth into the Sillibub pot and so do till the Cream and Wine be done, then cover it close and set it in a cool Cellar for twelve hours, then eat it.

This lady appears to be having her arm yanked right out of her sleeve in this  

scene depicting events in Richardson's 1740 novel, "Pamela." 

I do approve of this recipe's final instruction. 


~~Juliet Waldron

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The Great Apple Hunt

Every August, I wait and watch for the new crop of apples. I begin the process of filling my fridge with apples, and proceed to bake apple pies and apple bread. Then I fill my freezer with applesauce. The habit began early.

My parents had three acres in Skaneateles, NY which came with the remains of an orchard. There were seven trees in a row on the eastern side of the house, and I remember the shape and habit of each one well, blooming in spring or illuminated by sunrise. Nearest the road was a classic Golden Delicious tree with low, spreading limbs. It was my particular haunt, because it was easy to climb into. During hot summer afternoons, there were almost-comfortable notches you could get into with a book, but actually, the best thing was just to zone out and watch the ever-changing shadows of the leaves dancing across my skinny arms.   Besides this shapely tree there was also a Schuyler Plum, a Bartlett pear, and a single apple tree each of Rome and Cortland. We had one mystery tree which shed rock hard golden-with-pink-blush fruit very late in the season. To this last, my parents could not give a name until they consulted the local old-timers. This, we finally learned, was a Winter Banana. Although initially “hard enough to shoot through an oak plank”, we found that if you wiped these apples and stored them in a cool place inside a big cardboard box, by early January they would become tasty, juicy and delicious. These heritage apples kept so well, that we often made pies or sauce or even Waldorf salad as late as April. We rarely bought store apples.

Winter Banana

From:   http://adamapples.blogspot.com/

When my husband and I were first married, we lived in Massachusetts and so had plenty of excellent northern apples to eat, and so my craving—after dearth years in the West Indies--was satisfied. The newly developed, sweet and crispy Macoun, glowing in those picture-perfect Massachusetts orchards was a revelation. For work, though, we had to move south. The apples here came earlier, and what I found were of poor quality. At the farm stands, the Macs, Romes and Cortlands, and even the ordinarily good keepers such as Staymen, all too soon in the long southern autumns, became mush.  Friends who lived up north sent me fruit by post, but I was an apple exile--deprived.

Moving again, into Pennsylvania, I hoped to find better apples, but at first, I couldn’t locate them. People here liked Lodi, for they come early, but about all they are good for is a mild, soupy sauce. No, the early greens are not favorites—and don’t even mention the awful saw-dust-look-but-don't eat supermarket Red “Delicious”!  The antique varieties our grandparents knew had been destroyed by subdivisions and marketing. I’ve lived in PA for 30 years now, and that once world-famous Pennsylvania export, the York Imperial--of "Treasure Island" fame--has never crossed my seeker’s path.

  

Happily, we are returning to a time in which people crave good taste again, and at the renascent farmer’s markets I'm again finding the old favorites.  It’s catch as catch can, depending on weather, rain and whether I find them fresh off the tree. There are some new, tasty varieties—the Ginger Gold, the Braeburn, the Gala, and the magnificent, late season Goldrush.  Among the newbies, I confess to a weakness for Empires and Jonagolds. The older breeds, however, to my old taste buds, will always be tops. My heart leaps when I find a hard, tart Jonathan or a traditional Winesap, or even a Cortland or a Rome, fresh from a good tree. This year, during my  annual apple hunt, I encountered my Holy Grail of heritage apples—Northern Spy—and enjoyed a brief time of rejoicing in each crispy, crunchy, tangy bite.     

Heritage apples/Assorted

~~Juliet Waldron

Historical Novels @ http://www.julietwaldron.com