Manolo says, in the autumn, the middle aged man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of toast.
Gone now is the summer of our grapefruit halves, sprinkled with sugar, replaced by toast

All hail toast!

The miraculous transformation of that holiest of foods, bread, into the perfect synthesis of homey tastes, the essential conveyance of butter, or jams, or honey, or if one is ambitious, perhaps the scrap of soft boiled egg.

Toast! The English vice!

“Village life makes stale bread so common that toasting has become a national habit restricted to the British Isles and those countries which have been colonized by Britain.” – H. D. Renner, The Origin of Food Habits

Of the course, as we all know that the Battle of Waterloo was won on the toasting forks of Eton?

“It isn’t only fictional heroes to whom toast means home and comfort. It is related of the Duke of Wellington – I believe by Lord Ellesmere – that when he landed at Dover in 1814, after six years’ absence from England, the first order he gave at the Ship Inn was for an unlimited supply of buttered toast.” – Elizabeth David, English Bread and Yeast Cookery

Did the Manolo say toasting forks?

We modern have advanced into the present blessed with the electronic 4 slice toaster. Two for me, and two for thee, dear breakfast friend!

So, lift your cup to toast! Humble, yet divine. Simple, yet delicious.

And last month he was coffee; this month he's tea. So hard to keep track!

Quote of the day, via Dane Morgan:

Once there was a little teapot, short and stout. But then some of the other utensils in the kitchen started making fun of it on the internet and it went on a diet. Now no one gets to drink tea any more. the end.

Meet one of the most successful cookbook authors in history, Mrs. Isabella Beeton. Yes, that Mrs. Beeton.

Although she died in 1865, just about a month before her twenty-ninth birthday (of peritonitis and puerperal fever, following the birth of her fourth child), Mrs. Beeton remains a household name through much of the English-speaking world.

Her book, Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management has been reprinted, updated, and collected ever since it was first published in 1861.

In fact, I have two different versions in my own collection. One is my own copy of the 1992 edition that I bought shortly before I got married. The other is my mother’s long-cherished copy sans a publication date. My guess is that it dates back to somewhere between the late 1930′s and the fall of the British Raj. Why? Because of the sorts of recipes, the instructions included with them, the advertisements shown on the endpapers, and the fact that there is a significant section on cooking in India.

The recipes are, of course, a major reason for the long popularity of the franchise. Over time, old recipes that are no longer fashionable or practical have been dropped in favor of things more in line with modern tastes. The sheer range of recipes makes the volume a great choice if you only have room or interest for one or two cookbooks in your world. And despite the common wisdom, there have never been very many extravagant dishes, nor was anyone ever instructed to ‘first catch your hare.’ Mrs. Beeton didn’t worry about whether you found your meat at the market or in the local Lord’s woods. Her concern was making sure you cooked it in the tastiest, most healthful possible ways and carved it neatly so that every person at the table could get an equal and attractive share.

But there’s a great deal more to the Book of Household Management than just the recipes. After all, there’s a lot more to managing a household than cooking. From the first, the Book has included lots of information on cleaning, organizing finances, child care, and medical advice. My 1992 edition includes a rather fascinating section on legal issues, and the older one has a section to teach your servants how to wait at table properly.

Did Isabella know her stuff? Well, she was the oldest of four children. Her father, Benjamin Mayson, died quite early. Her mother then remarried a gentleman named Henry Dorling,  who was a widower with four children of his own. The Dorlings proceeded to have another thirteen children. That made Isabella the eldest of twenty-two offspring. I’m guessing her emphasis on practical matters and economical management was based strongly in her early life.

You can find the complete text of the original book at ExClassics.com, but I’m  going to go ahead and include one of the recipes here To Dress Carrots in the German Way:

TO DRESS CARROTS IN THE GERMAN WAY.

1101. INGREDIENTS.– 8 large carrots, 3 oz. of butter, salt to taste, a very little grated nutmeg, 1 tablespoonful of finely-minced parsley, 1 dessertspoonful of minced onion, rather more than 1 pint of weak stock or broth, 1 tablespoonful of flour.

Mode.– Wash and scrape the carrots, and cut them into rings of about 1/4 inch in thickness. Put the butter into a stewpan; when it is melted, lay in the carrots, with salt, nutmeg, parsley, and onion in the above proportions. Toss the stewpan over the fire for a few minutes, and when the carrots are well saturated with the butter, pour in the stock, and simmer gently until they are nearly tender. Then put into another stewpan a small piece of butter; dredge in about a tablespoonful of flour; stir this over the fire, and when of a nice brown colour, add the liquor that the carrots have been boiling in; let this just boil up, pour it over the carrots in the other stewpan, and let them finish simmering until quite tender. Serve very hot.

This vegetable, dressed as above, is a favourite accompaniment of roast pork, sausages, &c. &c.

Time.– About 3/4 hour. Average cost, 6d. to 8d. per bunch of 18.

Sufficient for 6 or 7 persons.

Seasonable.– Young carrots from April to June, old ones at any time.

 

See? No need whatsoever to catch your own hare. But you could cook that today, and it would still be nice with pork.

Vinny Garcia is a hardcore Doctor Who fan as well as a talented cake designer, and you just know how those people are: gotta cross them streams, unite those worlds. No doubt it started with an undergrad in the sixties, baking John Pertwee-faced cookies to the sounds of the Merseybeat, and the next thing you know, this exists.

From BBCAmerica:

“I’ve seen Dalek cakes made here and there, but I just felt like nobody really captured the essence of the Dalek and the complexity of the design,” he explained. “Somebody went through a lot of trouble to design every nook and cranny of this thing, and you never see it. I thought, ‘Everyone always thinks the conical shape when they think Dalek,’ so I decided to go that extra mile to get to the difficulty level. And to be able to make this Dalek in the way that I wanted to make it, as cheesy as it sounds, it’s a dream come true.… Having made the Dalek, I naturally want to make Davros,” Garcia revealed. “I’d also like to make a three-foot tall cyberman or even The Doctor himself. I’d love to make a Tom Baker with a giant scarf and a little K-9, oh that would be so awesome.”

You can keep your molecular gastronomy, boys and girls. THAT is true food nerdism.

Cheers!

What can I say? It’s been one of those weeks.

Paula Deen and Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie at the royal wedding

Oh look, she brought a plus one. And you know, that’s what that hat needed: more butter!

By the way, my favorite ridiculous tea accessory (and there are a LOT from which to choose, including my mechanized sugar picker, which reminds me of the claw in that Pick A Toy machine at the Legion) is this delightfully pointless set of Royal Family Hot Tubber Teabags. Pun away!

Does their milkshake bring all the boys to the yard?

It is with sadness (for we always enjoy having one more ridonkulous thing in the world upon which to snark) that we note that health concerns have turned off the tap on Baby Gaga, the ice cream made from human breast milk. It seems dairy livestock need to be raised in accordance with certain conditions which the new mothers of London were not as a rule encountering in their own lifestyles.

The late lamented publicity magnet was offered at London ice creamateria The Icecreamists for a cool £14 a serving; a serving which was delivered to you by a waitress dressed up as, yes, Lady Gaga. Apparently, it tasted like vanilla. And desperation.

We much prefer the new (and, yes, real) Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack ice cream, another vanilla variant, this one with salty caramel swirl and fudge covered potato chip clusters. All that’s missing is the salsa and it’s a late night meal in a carton!

Late Night Ice Cream: Beer and/or pot not included

Apparently Jimmy Fallon is involved in the product, but presumably not as a “donor.”

A toast to Julian Assange

How did I miss this? Spies, food, alcohol, anarchy, conspiracy, and double-crossing: it’s got EVERYTHING I look for in a story.

In order to keep government-mortifying website Wikileaks running and pay the considerable legal fees of his (unsuccessful) fight against extradition, Draco Malfoy imitator and human ferret Julian Assange invited the world to dine with him on February 9th of this year.

For a fee.

Nom for Freedom, Julian!

No, seriously, how did I miss this? Assange is easily my favorite James Bond villain, and a more stimulating dinner companion could hardly be imagined (just keep all the lights on). According to the website, it was a one-time opportunity to gather with friends and Wikileaks supporters, donate to the cause, and in return be given a link to unlock a Vimeo video of Assange saluting you and presumably pretending to be interested in what your Uncle Harry has to say about kids these days and their crazy music, etc, etc.

Well guess what? Someone leaked the video. So here’s what we missed! [ed note: when the inevitable takedown notice comes, the very fabric of the space-irony continuum will be destroyed]

In the words of Julian Assange – “There are four things that cannot be concealed for long, the sun, the moon, the truth – and dessert!”

Hunky Italian chef Gino D’Acampo is a big man, and a total hambone. When he loses a bet, he doesn’t shrivel up, he antes up. Here he goes Jamie Oliver one better by becoming a truly Naked Chef, and never mind the risks to life, limb, and little buddy.

From TheDailyWhat:

Long story short, Italian chef Gino D’Acampo made a promise to viewers of ITV’s This Morning that, should the show win a National Television Award, he would return to cook sans clothes. Well, they won, and he did.

That takes sfere, and, as you can see, Gino is a man who knows where to draw the line, who’s not as likely to run something up the flagpole and see who salutes as he is to carry his cowl where the sun don’t shine. Of the three of them on-camera (and the vast, multitudinous horde swarming around off-camera) only one person keeps his cool when the heat is on and the dial is turned up to 12. He barely cracks a smile even as his boneheaded cohosts pull boner after boner during this simple segment on preparing gammon and mushy peas.

Yes, Gino D’Acampo is the obvious weiner.

The Magic Potion

Here’s the quote of the day, from an Englishman and thus, naturally, a tea fanatic:

It is very strange, this domination of our intellect by our digestive organs. We cannot work, we cannot think, unless our stomach wills so. It dictates to us our emotions, our passions. After eggs and bacon it says, “Work!” After beefsteak and porter, it says, “Sleep!” After a cup of tea (two spoonfuls for each cup, and don’t let it stand for more than three minutes), it says to the brain, “Now rise, and show your strength. Be eloquent, and deep, and tender; see, with a clear eye, into Nature, and into life: spread your white wings of quivering thought, and soar, a god-like spirit, over the whirling world beneath you, up through long lanes of flaming stars to the gates of eternity! ”
—
Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men in a Boat

via ItWasNow