This section is from the book "Our Viands - Whence They Come And How They Are Cooked", by Anne Walbank Buckland. Also available from Amazon: Our Viands: Whence They Come and How They are Cooked.
There was also an indispensable Christmas dish known as plum porridge, of which the old nursery rhyme relates: -
'The man in the moon came clown too soon + To ask his way to Norwich; The man in the south he burnt his mouth Eating cold plum porridge.'
This plum porridge, always served as a first course at Christmas, was made by boiling beef or mutton with broth thickened with brown bread; when half boiled, raisins, currants, prunes, cloves, mace, and ginger were added, and when the mess had been thoroughly boiled, it was sent to table with the best meats. This is supposed to have been the origin of the plum-pudding, which in its present form does not appear in cookery books earlier than 1675, and then not as a Christmas dish. Mince pies, shred pies, or Christmas pies are, however, much older, and figure in Ben Jonson's 'Masque of Christmas.' These pies seem to have been particularly obnoxious to the Puritans, as savouring of superstition, the crust which encloses them being supposed
* A more modern recipe for the making of Frumenty will be found among those at the end of this section, and I can strongly recommend it to those who like to try the dishes so much prized by our forefathers.
+ Antiquaries say for ' too soon' should be read 'to Sion.' to represent the manger in which the infant Saviour was laid. There is a rhyme which runs thus: -
'The high-shoe lords of Cromwell's making Were not for dainties - roasting, baking; The chiefest food they found most good in Was rusty bacon and bag pudding; Plum broth was popish, and mince pie - O, that was flat idolatry !'
Soyer's book, 'The History of Food,' gives us two recipes worth reproducing. The first is for making the Athenian national dish: - 'Dry near the fire, in the oven, twenty pounds of barley flour; then parch it; add three pounds of linseed meal, half a pound of coriander seed, two ounces of salt, and the quantity of water necessary.' This does not read particularly appetising, and the same may be said of the next - the famous Carthaginian pudding. 'Put a pound of red-wheat flour into water, and when it has steeped some time transfer it to a wooden bowl. Add three pounds of cream cheese, half a pound of honey, and one egg. Beat the whole together, and cook it on a slow fire in a stewpan.' Both these appear to have been something between porridge and hasty pudding, and in the same category may be placed the fermity or frumenty described above; and from these were doubtless derived the far-famed hasty pudding of Jack the Giant-Killer, and our batter and custard puddings, as well as that king and pride of British cooks, the Christmas plum-pudding, which foreigners vainly attempt to imitate.
The Egyptians had learned to make pastry much as we do now, and figures in the temples and tombs, and on the papyri are represented kneading dough with their feet, rolling the paste, cutting it into various forms, and carrying it to the oven. The cakes thus made were of various forms, often resembling animals. One of these in the British Museum is in the form of a crocodile's head; and others have been found deposited in tombs in the form of rings, or rolled over like Swiss-roll, and sprinkled with seeds after the manner of the Jew's bread of the present day.
Whether the Egyptian pastry consisted simply of bread dough we do not know, but it probably contained oil or fat of some kind, for it is certain that the cakes of the Hebrews were composed of fine flour and oil, with probably honey sometimes added; but none of the Egyptian pastry has been found containing fruit like our pies, although cakes consisting entirely of dates are known to have been made, and called date bread.
Our fruit puddings are simply pies boiled instead of baked. Who is there who fails to appreciate a pudding or pie of fresh fruit, whether of green gooseberries in the early spring, or of black and red currants and raspberries or cherries in summer, and all the delicious plums, damsons, and greengages of autumn ! Happily, the art of bottling fruits has attained to such perfection that we may now get fruit pies and puddings all the year round, instead of, as in former times, having to depend upon apples and jams only, during the winter months. The thrifty housewife, it is true, used to bottle gooseberries for her own winter use, but they could not be purchased; whereas now, for a few pence, we may indulge in pies of currants, cherries, and greengages at Christmas.
 
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