The Stag Cookbook : Some Recipes
The other day I saved a link (probably via BoingBoing) for The Stag Cookbook : Written for Men by Men, collected and edited by C. Mac Sheridan, with an introduction by Robert H. Davis; New York : George H. Doran Company, 1922; 197 pages [google books link], so that I could see what manly cookbooks were like nearly 100 years ago.
The entire book is available online and it was fun reading. I like to see, from cookbooks from different eras aimed at men, what the presumed level of kitchen knowledge is assumed. I noticed this ever so much reading a 1950s cookbook for men published by Esquire and aimed at men who were absolute beginners; the familiarity with kitchen techniques they assumed was much greater than one could reasonably hope for today.
Anyway, as I read a few recipes presented themselves for safe keeping. I was particularly pleased to find a recipe for wilted lettuce that's not so distant from my grandmother's technique. Here also was something finally to give me a good idea of what a "pone" is.
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XI [p. 43]
George F. Worts
SWEET POTATO PONE
There are two sure ways of identifying a true southerner. One of them is to play "Dixie." Unlike your northerner, or counterfeit southerner who springs to his feet and looks exalted and proud when the band strikes up that swinging anthem, your true, or southern southerner rarely springs. Generally he just sets and waggles one boot, and looks happy or sentimental, according to his nature. That is one way of detecting your true southerner. The second and surer way is to announce in a tremulous voice: "Gemmen, dat potato pone am done set."
The sweet potato pone is strictly a southern dish. It is served south of the Mason and Dixon line hot and smoking. You don't need much experience as a cook, although the old rule which also places "perfect" after "practice" of course holds good. Your ninth potato pone will be better than your third. Here is the how:
Grind up raw sweet potatoes in a meat chopper until you have one quart. Mix the grindings thoroughly in a bowl with molasses—enough molasses so the mass is soft and sticky, or spongy.
Mix in a heaping tablespoonful of lard.
Add a teaspoonful of allspice.
Put the mixture in a cake tin and place in a slow oven. Stir constantly until a rich brown hue is attained, then smooth over with a knife or spoon and allow to bake slowly until a mellow brown crust is formed.
Remove from oven, allow to cool slightly, cut in slices and serve. General Robert E. Lee would walk ten miles for a slice of it.
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XV [p. 49]
Richard Walton Tully
HAWAIIAN CROQUETTES A LA "THE BIRD OF PARADISE"
It was about fifteen years ago that I first visited the Hawaiian Islands in search of material for my play, "The Bird of Paradise," and during the course of my sojourn I made many friends among the natives, often living weeks at a time with them in out-of-the-way villages. Although their food was radically different from ours in many of its contents and modes of making, it was always palatable, and often strikingly delicious. However, most of the native dishes contained ingredients which we cannot obtain here, but I did learn how to make what some of my friends have nick-named Hawaiian Croquettes a la "Bird of Paradise," the materials for which are easily procured. And it is a dish so wonderfully appetizing that I constantly prepare it for guests of epicurean tastes.
First grate the meat of half a coconut, and add to it a cup of (cow's) milk, mixing thoroughly, and straining through cloth. Melt two tablespoonsful of butter over a low flame, rubbing into it with the back of a spoon five tablespoonsful of flour, stirring until very smooth. Then add slowly the strained coconut and milk liquid, stirring constantly until very thick. Season meanwhile with one and a half teaspoonsful of salt; one of paprika, and one of grated onion. Finally add two cups of cold, boiled, shredded mullet, or any other firm white fish, and two cups of cold, boiled, chopped lobster, and after stirring. allow to cool.
Shape into croquettes, or balls, allowing a rounded tablespoonful to each ball; roll in fine cracker crumbs; dip into an egg which has been slightly beaten and to which one-quarter of a cup of water has been added; again. roll in cracker crumbs.
Have a deep pan of fat, hot enough to fry a piece) of bread a golden brown while you count forty, and cook the croquettes therein for about a minute; then drain on paper, and serve with olives.
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XXXIV [p. 80]
Charles Hanson Towne
Corn Pudding
There ia no dish I like better than a Corn Pudding made just like this;
1/2 cup of cream
I tablespoonful of flour
1/2 tablespoonful of salt
1 teaspoonful of sugar
1 tablespoonful of butter
A pinch of baking powder
Cook for a half hour and serve immediately. It is brown on the top, and in a deep dish it is the most succulent course a man could wish for. I want others to share it with me. I wish I could give a party every night with this as the piece-de-resistance!
Editor's Note:—In speaking of the origin of this dish Mr. Towne says that it was "first made by my wonderful colored housekeeper, Hattie Jefferson."
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LXI [p. 131]
Terry Ramsaye
LETTUCE (a la Red Creek)
In behalf of my favorite fodder, the tender leading lettuce that's newly sprung in June, I am pleased to present a method of introducing it to the human system with a maximum effectiveness.
Wilted Lettuce:—It is said that this dish comes to us from the Hessians. If this be treason let us make the most of it.
Having obtained the lettuce, young and tender and fresh from the patch, plucked before it is yet headstrong, toss it into a bucket of cold water to crisp it.
Repairing to the kitchen, place on the hot stove a skillet and heave into it a good sized cupful of chopped bacon. Let it fry thoroughly. Add a dessert spoonful of salt, a pinch of mustard, a couple of tablespoonsful of granulated sugar and good cider vinegar in quantity slightly in excess of the bacon fat. Let it simmer smartly until well blended. Meanwhile lay out the lettuce in noble heaps on the plates on which it is to be served. Chop up a handful of green onions, a bit of the tops will do no harm, and at the last moment stir them into the concoction in the skillet.
While the whole is sizzling and boiling vigorously, pour the mixture over the lettuce, using a spoon to apportion the nifty bits of bacon about, and serve forthwith.
By this method one can take aboard amazing quantities of lettuce, which is most desirable in view of the fact that this gentle herb contributes strongly to the summel languor when taken in adequate quantities.
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on Tuesday, 26 October 2010 at 00.31
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the familiarity with kitchen techniques they assumed was much greater than one could reasonably hope for today.
Interesting. I suppose it is attributable to the rise of prepackaged foods and eating-out establishments. Also involved is the rise of subject matter experts. I am often astounded at the savoriness of "junk" food in the convenience stores. They may not have much vegetable fiber, but those cookies and cakes are really good! There must be an adage about this being the road to Hell.
on Friday, 5 November 2010 at 17.42
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Oh how I've missed sweet potato pie! Lawsah mercy
on Friday, 5 November 2010 at 22.11
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We'll be certain to have numerous sweet-potato dishes on your next visit. That's why I save recipes like this.