Day Four - Tuesday

On the fourth day of our Victorian food adventure, we had a very simple breakfast.

Breakfast:  Bread and jam;  Apples.

I would have loved some butter on my bread as well, but as it was quite an expensive ingredient in the Victorian era, and as we were already using so much butter elsewhere, I decided (as my imaginary Victorian-era counterpart would have done) to do without it.

Lunch:  Currie / Roast beef & watercress sandwich.

Husband and Daughter ate the leftover curry from the night before.  I had the sandwich.  I was pleased to find watercress at my local supermarket, as this was a very common (and very cheap) source of nutrition for people in Victorian England.  Ironically of course, here and now it is somewhat difficult to find and relatively expensive (the supermarket appears to consider it a herb).  I had never tried it before this week, but it is very nice - quite peppery, like rocket is - and looks very pretty on the plate.  I shall look out for it in future.

Tea:  A Very Good Seed-Cake

One often reads of people eating seed-cake in books.  I have often wondered what it is like, what sort of seeds were used, etc.  Now seemed a good time to find out!  It turns out that the seeds in question are caraway seeds, which luckily I was able to find (although not at the supermarket).  I decided on Mrs Beeton's recipe for "A Very Good Seed-Cake" (as opposed to her "Common Seed-Cake", which calls for dripping, and "dough sent in from the baker's".  Hmm.).  Here is the recipe (or receipt, as they said at the time):  

INGREDIENTS.-- 1 lb. of butter, 6 eggs, ¾ lb. of sifted sugar, pounded mace and grated nutmeg to taste, 1 lb. of flour, ¾ oz. of caraway seeds, 1 wineglassful of brandy.  

Mode.-- Beat the butter to a cream; dredge in the flour; add the sugar, mace, nutmeg, and caraway seeds, and mix these ingredients well together. Whisk the eggs, stir to them the brandy, and beat the cake again for 10 minutes. Put it into a tin lined with buttered paper, and bake it from 1-½ to 2 hours.

After the usual flurry of mathematical calculations, imperial-to-metric conversions, and finding out what on earth a "wineglassful" might have been in the 1800s, I was able to begin.  I made half this quantity, and it fitted very nicely into a loaf tin.

This was an interesting one.  I rather liked the flavour, and didn't really mind the seeds.  Husband found "all the little seeds" super annoying, and the flavour too subtle.  Daughter and I both found the texture of the cake itself a bit odd (she described it as "spongy", which seems about right.).  I suspected the texture is because the mixture is beaten for so long with the flour in it - quite a no-no for most modern cakes, as it develops the gluten too much.  Incidentally, I used my benchtop mixer for this, so I didn't beat it for the full ten minutes, but for two (Mrs B would have done it by hand, so adjustments must be made).

Dinner:  Stewed Red Cabbage with Sausages;  Boiled Beetroot;  Boiled Turnip.

Here is Mrs Beeton's receipt for "Stewed Red Cabbage":

INGREDIENTS.—1 red cabbage, a small slice of ham, ½ oz. of fresh butter, 1 pint of weak stock or broth, 1 gill of vinegar, salt and pepper to taste, 1 tablespoonful of pounded sugar. 

Mode.—Cut the cabbage into very thin slices, put it into a stewpan, with the ham cut in dice, the butter, ½ pint of stock, and the vinegar; cover the pan closely, and let it stew for 1 hour. When it is very tender, add the remainder of the stock, a seasoning of salt and pepper, and the pounded sugar; mix all well together, stir over the fire until nearly all the liquor is dried away, and serve. Fried sausages are usually sent to table with this dish: they should be laid round and on the cabbage, as a garnish.

Again, I halved this recipe - I generally do with these recipes, as often the quantities are enormous, considering I am only cooking for three people.  For the sausages, I used pork chipolatas.

This was very tasty.  The cabbage had quite a tang from the vinegar, but also a rich texture from the butter, and plenty of flavour, thanks to the ham and the stock.

The beetroot was served with melted butter, as per Eliza Acton's instructions, and the turnip was served plain (we were quite keen to find out what it tasted like on its own, as its flavour had sort of disappeared in Sunday's soup).  Husband was very keen on the turnip, as it turns out.

For dessert, we ate the remainder of the leftover raspberry jelly.