Behind the Recipe -- Jeri Quinzio

Fiber, probiotics, and ice cream

People often ask me why I bother to make ice cream when it’s so easy to buy it. First of all, I don’t always make my own ice cream. Sometimes I buy it.  But often I want to have a flavor I don’t see at supermarkets or even ice cream shops. Like lemon, or coffee with chocolate-covered espresso beans, or some such. So I make my own.

But the best reason to make ice cream is this – you know what’s in it. That’s not always true when you buy it.

I’m diligent about reading the ingredient listing on ice cream cartons now because I recently read a trade magazine article on ice cream additives. I learned that when manufacturers want to modify “the sweetener system,” as the article put it, they have to make up for the bulk lost when sugar is replaced by aspartame or sucralose. So they add fiber. However,the article warned, the amount has to be carefully calibrated because adding too much fiber may cause diarrhea or flatulence. Not exactly what you expect from a dish of chocolate chip.

Manufacturers are also adding probiotics to ice cream because they believe consumers are eager to consume probiotics. Apparently they are not so eager that they will simply eat real, plain yogurt – as opposed to those sweet, fruity dessert-style yogurts that have all the benefits stripped away. Manufacturers believe that consumers want their probiotics in the form of ice cream.

So thanks to food chemists, we can eat ice cream and get fiber and probiotics and artificial sweeteners. I thought ice cream was supposed to be a treat rather than a treatment.

I’d rather get fiber from roasted broccoli with olive oil and Aleppo pepper or lentils simmered with some merguez sausage. I’d rather get my probiotics from yogurt mixed with fresh clementine segments and chopped pecans. I’d rather get my “sweetener system” from cane sugar.

When I make my own ice cream, I flavor it with a real vanilla bean or chocolate. I add fresh fruit or warm spices like cinnamon or nutmeg. I use real cream and milk. And I sweeten it with sugar. Just enough sugar. Here’s a recipe I especially like.

Coffee with chocolate-covered espresso beans

2 cups whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1/3 cup finely ground espresso or dark roast coffee
5 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
1/2  cup chocolate-covered espresso beans

Combine milk and cream in saucepan and warm over low heat. Add the ground coffee, stir and heat until it’s about to simmer. Shut off heat, cover and let the mixture steep for half an hour or so. Give it a stir from time to time.

Half fill a large bowl or saucepan with ice or ice water and set aside.

In another saucepan, whisk egg yolks and sugar until thick and pale. Strain the coffee mixture carefully to get rid of the coffee grounds, then rewarm it. Stir it very gradually
into the egg mixture. When it’s all incorporated, cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until it thickens enough to coat the spoon. Do not let it boil.

Place the pan of coffee custard in the bowl with the ice or ice water and continue to stir until it cools.

Cover with plastic wrap pressed against the surface so it doesn’t form a skin on top. Chill for at least 12 hours.

Put the coffee beans in a zip-lock bag and smack with a rolling pin or a heavy bottle until they’re chopped up. Set aside.

Churn the ice cream mixture in your machine, following manufacturer’s instructions. When it’s almost ready, mix in the chopped chocolate-covered coffee beans. Store tightly covered in freezer until ready to serve. Makes one quart.

 

S'mores and Sylvester Graham

I recently saw someone making a gooey dessert that involved heaping chocolate, nuts, and gobs of caramel on top of graham crackers. It’s a wonder Sylvester Graham didn’t come back from the dead to rage against such a thing.

If you don’t know much about Sylvester Graham, you’re not alone. Almost forgotten today, he was The health food guru in the early 19th century. Graham railed against highly processed, commercially made white bread and promoted the consumption of home-baked bread, made with whole wheat flour. He was also a passionate vegetarian. So far, so unremarkable, especially today.

But passionate is the key word. Graham lectured and wrote about the need for
everyone to abstain not only from white bread and meat, but also from spicy foods like pepper, ginger, and cinnamon. His regimen banned alcohol, most dairy foods, coffee, tea, and what he considered excessive sexual activity. His lectures on the dangers of sex were so explicit that some women in the audience fainted.

He liked some things – cold showers, hard mattresses, exercise. This was not a fun guy. Even Ralph Waldo Emerson, not exactly a sybarite, called Graham the “poet of bran and pumpkins.” The tough regimen didn’t do him much good since he was just 57 when he died.

Ironically, graham crackers were among the first crackers used to make ice cream sandwiches. He would have been appalled. He also would have hated the idea of cinnamon graham crackers, never mind graham cracker pie crusts. But s’mores would have been the most upsetting to him, combining as they do soft, sweet white marshmallows and chocolate candy with sugary crackers bearing his name.

S’mores are said to have been invented by Girl Scouts when they toasted marshmallows over their camp fires and then squished them between Hershey-bar-topped crackers.
The hot marshmallow melts the chocolate, softens the crackers, and makes everyone want some more. Try saying some more with a mouthful of marshmallow, chocolate, and graham crackers and you’ll understand why they’re called s’mores.

In winter, lacking a camp fire, I like to substitute ice cream, preferably hazelnut, for the toasted marshmallows. I toast the graham crackers briefly for warmth and sometimes I  spread some Nutella on them instead of a chocolate bar.

If you really want to infuriate the spirit of  Sylvester Graham, use those oh-so-spicy cinnamon graham crackers.

You can have some multi-grain bread and water tomorrow.


 Photo by Evan-Amos

 
 

Gifts good enough to eat. Or cook by.

Here are some great gift cookbooks for holiday giving or receiving.

 

100 Perfect Pairings: Main Dishes to Enjoy with Wines You Love
By Jill Silverman Hough

Chock-full of delicious, creative, and easy-to-make recipes for everyday cooks, 100 Perfect Pairings makes food and wine pairing easy and approachable. With recipes organized into twelve chapters by wine variety, simply turn to the chapter for the wine you want to serve, make any of the entrees you find there, and enjoy it with your wine. It’s that easy. Be it Pinot Grigio or Pinot Noir, a big dinner party or a simple meal with friends, “100 Perfect Pairings” promises wonderful recipes that make every pairing, well, perfect!

Jill Silverman Hough is a cookbook author, food and wine writer, recipe developer, and culinary instructor whose forte is making food and cooking simple yet special.
 

Almost Meatless: Recipes That Are Better for Your Health and the Planet
By Joy Manning & Tara Mataraza Desmond

Ideal for today’s conscientious carnivores, Almost Meatless is a timely new book featuring 60+ tasty recipes that go light on the meat.  Without compromising flavor or protein, these dishes maximize health benefits while minimizing the grocery bill and impact on the planet.

Tara Mataraza Desmond is a writer, cookbook author and recipe developer focused on food for health and wellness, pregnancy and parenthood.
 

The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook: Home Cooking from Asian American Kitchens
By Patricia Tanumihardja

Asian grandmothers—whether of Chinese, Japanese, Indonesian, Vietnamese, or Indian descent— are keepers of the cultural, and culinary, flame. Their mastery of delicious home-cooked dishes and comfort food makes them the ideal source for this cookbook. The 130 tantalizing dishes assembled in this tome comprise hearty food, brightly flavored, and equally good to look at and eat. Plus, all the recipes are translated to work in modern home kitchens.

Pat Tanumihardja is a food and travel writer currently based in the Washington, D.C. metro area and blogs at The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook
 

Brewed Awakening
By Joshua M. Bernstein

Brewed Awakening is Joshua M. Bernstein’s definitive take on the craft beer revolution. The book is the deeply reported story of the wild innovations and passions driving craft beer, focusing on the tales of the risk-taking brewers, bar owners and the dedicated beer drinkers across the globe. There’s a story in every pint glass, and Brewed Awakening gives voice to each one.

Josh Bernstein is a Brooklyn-based beer, spirits, food, travel and bicycling (phew!) journalist, as well as an occasional tour guide.
 

The Encyclopedia of Sandwiches
By Susan Russo

How do you keep a Dagwood from toppling over? How did the Hero get its name? And who invented the French Dip? Discover these answers and more in The Encyclopedia of Sandwiches—a chunky little cookbook dedicated to everything between sliced bread. You’ll find recipes for every sandwich imaginable along with fascinating regional and historical trivia. From the humble Sloppy Joe to the chic Nutella sandwich, from the iconic Po ‘Boy to the fresh-faced donut sandwich, The Encyclopedia of Sandwiches will satiate sandwich connoisseurs everywhere.

Susan Russo is a San Diego-based cookbook author, blogger (Food Blogga), and freelance writer specializing in food and lifestyle.
 

The I Love Trader Joe’s College Cookbook
By Andrea Lynn

The ultimate one-stop shopping guide, The I Love Trader Joe’s College Cookbook finally offers starving college students a welcome relief from fast food fiascos. Designed to help shoppers recognize the best finds and reap the fruits of Trader Joe’s smart buyers, many recipes utilize TJ’s signature products to create unique meals like olive focaccia, frito pie, pulled-pork sliders, and fish tacos, among other things.

Andrea Lynn is a NYC-based food writer and recipe developer who has tasted almost every product Trader Joe’s has to offer.
 

Parents Need to Eat Too: Nap-Friendly Recipes, One-Handed Meals & Time-Saving Kitchen Tricks for New Parents
By Debbie Koenig

Give a new parent the gift of sanity! Parents Need to Eat Too makes it easy for new moms and dads to take care of themselves as well as they’re caring for baby. Every recipe has been tested by a group of more than 100 moms, and every recipe also includes instructions for turning that dish into baby food. The book goes on sale in February, but author Debbie Koenig has created a special holiday offer, available now: She’ll send a free signed, custom-made bookplate and holiday card to anyone who pre-orders the book as a gift.

Debbie Koenig is a Brooklyn-based food and parenting writer and blogs at Words to Eat By.
 
Golden Afternoons: The Official Handbook of the Society for the Preservation of Ladies’ Afternoon Tea
By Roz Cummins

Roz Cummins is a Boston-based food writer who specializes in sustainability. She also loves tea and baking. She has worked as an editor, a teacher, and an arts administrator. She is currently working on a book called Golden Afternoons: The Official Handbook of the Society for the Preservation of Ladies’ Afternoon Tea.

 

 

A bicicletta, please. But hold the bicycle.

I love that cocktails are so popular now.  I love experimenting with new and different ones when I go out. I think bartenders being creative with ingredients like cilantro, beet juice, St. Germain, cynar, and cachaça is exciting.
 
I’ve thrown out the sticky bottle of Angustura bitters in the back of my kitchen cabinet now that freshly flavorful versions – rhubarb, orange, and such – are being made.
 
That’s all good. What isn’t is having to stock up on dozens of different ingredients to make those new drinks at home. And using most of the ingredients only once or twice.

So this season, I’m sticking to one aperitif. One that calls for just two ingredients – Prosecco and Campari. Yes, it’s like a Campari and soda, but tastier and more fun. Called a bicicletta, it looks cheery and holiday-ish. It’s red. It’s bubbly. Its taste edges

 

toward bitter without going over the line. It’s perfect.


You can make a bicicletta with a dry, still white wine – I like Vermentino but you can use Pinot Grigio, too. You can add a splash of club soda. You can serve it on the rocks. But straight up with Prosecco gives the drink a holiday sparkle.

I was introduced to the drink when I was in Sardinia, where pretty much every meal except breakfast started off with a bicicletta.

Where did it get its name? The story goes that old men used to gather at the bar/cafe and drink biciclette in the late afternoon. When it was time for supper, they got on their bicycles and rode tipsily home, weaving from one side of the road to the other. (Happily, there was no traffic in these small villages.) So the drink took its name from the tipsy bicycle rides.

Whether or not the story is true, serving biciclette kicks off holiday get-togethers in style. Just don’t let your guests ride their bicycles right afterward.

Of course, you can make biciclette in any kind of glass. But since it’s the holiday season, why not use festive champagne flutes. Just pour a shot of Campari into the glass and fill with Prosecco. Add a twist of lemon peel as a garnish, if you like.

Happy holidays!
 

Turning into Halloween pumpkins

 


 
On October 31 in Ireland, people used to hollow out turnips and potatoes, put candles in them, and place them in their windows to light the way home for the souls of the dead. When Irish immigrants came to the US in the nineteenth century, they did the same – with the larger local pumpkins.

By the middle of the century, Americans were celebrating Halloween with parties, bobbing for apples, and dressing up in costumes.

Halloween became a kids’ holiday after World War II when sugar rationing ended, and candy was available again. On the night itself, little kids dressed up in simple costumes walked around their neighborhoods looking for treats and threatening tricks. The role of grown-ups was to accompany kids too young to go out on their own. Or to stay home and dole out candy to the ghouls and goblins on their doorsteps, while pretending to be scared of the little monsters.

Now Halloween is a holiday for adults.

Halloween pop-up stores sell costumes for every age, size, and fantasy. You can buy decorations guaranteed to transform your home into the spookiest of haunted houses. Pumpkin carving kits are changing the face of jack-o’-lanterns. Bakeries and supermarkets feature cupcakes that look like bats, witches, or spiders. Halloween magazines are filled with recipes for ghoulish treats and blood-curdling cocktails for your party. And it’s not just one night anymore. Halloween is celebrated all weekend long. That’s why it’s second only to Christmas in its impact on the economy.

If you’re hopping on the Halloween bandwagon but you’d rather have something less    creepy and more tasty than gummy worms, I’ve got the perfect non-scary dessert for you – pumpkin ice cream.

By the way, it’s great for Thanksgiving, too.

 


Pumpkin ice cream


1 cup canned, unsweetened pumpkin purée
3 cups heavy cream
2/3 cup white sugar
1/3 cup brown sugar 
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2  teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract or 1 tablespoon of Grand Marnier

Combine pumpkin purée and cream in a saucepan over medium heat and stir until thoroughly mixed. Combine sugars with spices, then stir into pumpkin mixture. Simmer, stirring until sugars dissolve. Remove from heat, add salt and vanilla or Grand Marnier and let cool.
 
When it’s cool, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled, preferably overnight.

Churn in your ice cream machine, following manufacturer’s instructions. Store tightly covered in freezer until ready to serve. Makes one quart. – Ice Cream: The Ultimate Cold Comfort, Jeri Quinzio.

 
If you must, serve it with some candy corn sprinkled on top.
 



Image from Wikipedia by Jackins

Ice Cream. The very first time.

 

 

          I don't remember when I first tasted ice cream. I seem to have always known and loved it. It was never
           new and different like, say,  escargot or tequila.

But in earlier eras when some people tasted ice cream for the first time, they found it repellent, abhorrent, and just way too cold. Difficult as it may be for us to believe, some spat it out.

The English, in particular, seem to have had trouble adjusting to the idea of eating a frozen treat. Of course, since ice was a rare commodity in eighteenth century, most had never experienced that degree of cold in their mouths. It was, to say the least, unsettling.

In Frances Burney’s novel, Cecilia, published in 1782, a character called Mr. Briggs describes his first taste of ice cream: 

"…a great lump of sweetmeat; found it as cold as a stone, all froze in my mouth like ice; made me jump again, and brought the tears in my eyes; forced to spit it out; believe it was nothing but a snowball, just set up for shew, and covered over with a little sugar. Pretty way to spend money!"


An English naval officer attending an elegant dinner in Italy at the beginning of the nineteenth century was served ice cream molded and tinted to resemble a peach. Thinking it was the actual fruit, he took a bite and was astounded by its coldness. He spit it out,  exclaiming “A painted snowball, by God!” He was so upset that he had to be stopped from throwing the painted snowball at one of the servants.

As late as 1851, Henry Mayhew described the experience of people who tried the ice cream sold on the streets of London for the first time:

"The Smithfield [Market] man sold them in very small glasses, which he merely dipped into a vessel at his feet, and so filled them with cream. The consumers had to use their fingers instead of a spoon, and no few seemed puzzled how to eat their ice, and were grievously troubled by its getting among their teeth. I heard one drover mutter that he felt ‘as if it had snowed in his belly!’"

At least he didn’t spit it out.

 



 

White whiskey or vodka?

How much have our drinking habits changed since the ‘70s?

I was recently given a copy of the 1972 edition of The Bartender’s Guide by Patrick Gavin Duffy, revised and enlarged by James Beard.


The book was first published in 1940. I don’t know how much updating James Beard did because drinks that I would have thought long-forgotten by the ‘70s are still featured. I’ve never heard of many of them.

Fixes, which are undefined, are made with sugar, water, and your choice of gin, brandy, rum, or whiskey. They’re served in “small tumblers with shaved ice.”

Daisies are described as “overgrown cocktails.”

Fizzes merit seven full pages. I’ve had a gin fizz, but never heard of an Irish Fizz, or a Morning Glory Fizz or a Rose in June Fizz.  Smashes are defined as “nothing more than junior-size Juleps.”
                                                                Gin Fizz

Then there are all sorts of Sangarees, Scaffas, Smashes, and Shrubs. There are also Slings, but no Arrows.

But it’s the vodka section that truly shows just how different today’s drinking habits are. It takes up less than two pages and lists just 12 cocktails. By way of comparison, the gin section is 54 pages long and includes more than 400 cocktails.

Vodka didn’t get to this country until after Prohibition ended and it wasn’t drunk much until an enterprising Smirnoff salesman dubbed it “White whiskey” and claimed it had no taste or smell.

Its popularity was helped by the Smirnoff slogan, “It leaves you breathless." Although the ads didn’t come out and say it, the idea was that unlike gin, vodka wouldn’t reveal that you’d been drinking. Your boss wouldn’t smell it on your breath when you came back to the office after a three vodka martini lunch. Up until then, martinis were made with gin.  

The first popular vodka drink was the Moscow Mule, a mix of vodka, ginger beer (sometimes ginger ale is substituted), and lime. It isn’t even in Beard’s book.

The Screwdriver is, but it’s called a “Golden Screw or Golden Spike.” There’s a Bloody Mary, but no Black or White Russian, no Cape Codder, no Sea  Breeze, no Vodka Gimlet. Definitely no Cosmopolitan but the “Blue Monday or Caucasian” comes close.
I’d skip the vegetable extract.

        The Blue Monday or Caucasian

        3/4 Vodka
        1/4 Contreau
        1 dash Blue Vegetable Extract (coloring)

        Stir well with ice and strain into glass. Coloring may be omitted.


 

Snow Food - Pancakes

 

Now that winter is seriously here and snow is everywhere, at least here in the Northeast,
I’ve been thinking about the ways snow has been used in cooking.

Before there were such things, snow was a convenient refrigerator-freezer. Joy of Cooking authors Irma Rombauer and Marion Rombauer Becker reminisced about storing molded ice creams outside in the snow. “Finding them again was such a lark,” they wrote.

Snow was also an ingredient. It was used as a substitute for eggs back in the day when eggs were not available all the time, everywhere. A couple of spoonsful of snow took the place of one egg, according to many cookbooks.

Perfect for locavores, snow is fresh, local, and doesn’t cost a cent. But you do have to harvest it the minute it falls, while it’s still untouched by human hands – or feet.

This recipe for snow pancakes is in Dorothy Hartley’s famed Food in England, first published in 1954.

Snow Pancakes

Snow pancakes are made in winter. Use an ordinary pancake batter, and, when just ready to fry, stir in a spoonful of fresh firm snow and fry quickly so that the batter firms before the snow entirely melts, leaving holes in the pancake.

 If you don’t have any snow, try this pancake recipe for lovely, light-as-a-snowflake pancakes.

Ricotta Pancakes

Three eggs, separated
One-quarter cup flour
Three-quarters cup ricotta
One-quarter cup melted butter
2 tablespoons sugar
Pinch salt
One tablespoon grated lemon zest

Beat egg whites until they hold stiff peaks.

Mix all of the other ingredients together until they’re well blended into a batter. Fold the stiffly beaten egg whites into the batter gently.

Spoon scoops of batter into a hot, greased frying pan. When they’re browned on the bottom, flip them over and cook briefly. Serve with maple syrup or your favorite pancake topping.




The stunning snowflake images were created by Kenneth G. Libbrecht. To see more, go to – www.SnowCrystals.com.

The cone with the curl on top

If you're at all nostalgic for simple, old-fashioned Dairy Queen cones, see my article in the current ArchitectureBoston magazine. Or read it on the website -- http://architectureboston.com.

The issue is about the unmodern, a fascinating look at how modernism is, and is not, changing.

Count Rumford and baking powder biscuits

 



If you bake at all, you’ve probably seen or used Rumford-brand baking powder, and you may have wondered who Rumford was and why the baking powder was named for him.

Rumford, born Benjamin Thomson in Woburn, Massachusetts in 1753, was a complex and interesting person. A loyalist to King George III, he was accused of spying for the English during the Revolution, so he left his wife and child and fled to England in 1774. There he joined the British army and was soon named Royal Scientist to the British crown for his improvements to military weapons.

Later he was made a Count of the Holy Roman Empire for his services to Bavaria. He chose the name Rumford for a small town in New Hampshire where he taught when he was young. Clearly he did not share the founding fathers’ disdain for royal titles.

In addition to his work on military equipment, Rumford was interested in food preparation. He created more efficient fireplaces, and invented or improved kitchen implements including a type of coffee percolator, a meat roaster, a double boiler, an insulating bottle, and more.
 
He wrote extensively about less expensive ways to provide food for the poor. His rumfordsuppe, made with potatoes, barley, peas, and bread crumbs was just one of his recommendations. He also tried to persuade the British that hasty or Indian pudding would be perfect for the poor since it was inexpensive and filling. They were not fans of cornmeal, however, and preferred to stick to their own earlier versions of hasty pudding made with flour, semolina, or oats.

Was he motivated by genuine concern for the poor or simply in giving them sufficient calories so they could work productively? Some scholars believe the latter, and given his political sympathies, they are quite probably right.

Back to the baking powder. He did not invent it. It was named after him by Harvard professor Eben Horsford, when he created it early in the nineteenth century. Earlier, Rumford had rewritten his will to provide funding for a Harvard professorship. 

Baking powder is a combination of baking soda and cream of tartar, with cornstarch added. Cooks had made their own for years, but the commercial product was readily accepted since it was easier to use.

One tip. Check the use-by date of your baking powder, whatever its brand. If the date has passed, buy a fresh can. It will make all the difference in the world.

Baking Powder Biscuits.
Adapted from Biscuits and Scones by Elizabeth Alston



2 cups flour
One tablespoon baking powder
Pinch salt
Six tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut up
2/3 cup whole milk

Preheat oven to 450. Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt together. Cut in the butter until the mixture is crumbly. Stir milk in gradually until a soft dough forms.

Turn out onto a floured board and knead briefly. Then roll out to about a half-inch thickness. Cut out biscuits with a round biscuit cutter and place them on an ungreased cookie sheet. Place them close together for soft biscuits, further apart for crisp ones.

Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until tops are golden.

Depending on the size of your biscuit cutter, this will make about a dozen biscuits. Elizabeth Alston recommends wrapping the hot biscuits loosely with a dish towel and letting them cool for about 30 minutes for the best flavor.

Coffee cans, pudding molds, and Boston brown bread

“Where can I get a metal coffee can these days?” a friend asked.

He wanted to make Boston brown bread but he was perplexed. The recipe called for the bread to be steamed in a coffee can. Since few of us buy coffee in cans anymore, he didn’t know how he could cook it.

I’m writing a book about puddings so I realized what the problem was. First, I explained that Boston brown bread is actually a kind of pudding – think English and plum rather than creamy and chocolate.

At one time, such puddings were steamed in metal pudding molds, which you can still buy. They are roughly the size and shape of coffee cans, though they usually have a more decorative look.

Before cooks had such molds, though, puddings were boiled in cloths or pudding bags. Cooks poured the pudding mixture onto a square of sturdy floured cloth, tied it up into a rough bag shape, submerged it in a pot of water or broth, and boiled it. Often they boiled up some vegetables and maybe some meat along with the pudding.

They also made puddings in deep pie pans or pottery basins. They buttered the container, poured the mixture in, then tied a cloth over the top, and put it in a pot with just enough water to steam the pudding.

When pudding molds began to be made, cooks switched to the molds since they were easier to use.

However, lots of home cooks didn’t have pudding molds, so they made do with whatever they had. They used tin pails and buckets. They steamed individual puddings in sturdy teacups. When coffee began to be sold in metal cans, they used those.

Now we’ve forgotten that the coffee cans were a substitute and think of them as the actual kitchen utensil.

So I told my friend that if he can’t find a metal coffee can, he can make his Boston brown bread in a cloth, or an earthenware basin, or several sturdy coffee mugs or teacups, or a metal mixing bowl. Or he can borrow my pudding molds.

Boston brown bread

Half cup each of cornmeal, rye flour, and whole wheat flour
One teaspoon baking soda
Half teaspoon salt
One-third cup molasses
One cup milk
Half cup raisins or currants
Butter

Grease a one-quart pudding mold or a one-pound coffee can or the basin or cups (see above).

Stir the dry ingredients together in a bowl.

Add the molasses and milk and stir until smooth. Mix in the raisins or currants.
Pour into buttered container. The mixture should fill the container with about one-third left for the bread to rise. Cover the top with foil and tie around the container with kitchen string.

Put the mold in a large pot and pour in boiling water halfway up the sides of the mold.

Either steam on the stovetop or in an oven preheated to 325 degrees for two hours. Test for doneness by inserting a thin knife or skewer into the bread. If it comes our sticky, continue cooking. When the skewer comes out clean, it’s done. 

Let the bread rest for an hour or so, then serve warm. It’s also good toasted the next day.