{"id":183,"date":"2010-04-28T00:33:01","date_gmt":"2010-04-27T23:33:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.janelaverick.com\/?p=183"},"modified":"2010-04-28T00:33:01","modified_gmt":"2010-04-27T23:33:01","slug":"mrs-beetroots-book-of-household-mismanagement-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.janelaverick.com\/?p=183","title":{"rendered":"Mrs Beetroot’s book of household mismanagement 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

Welcome, a few days early, to another extract from my wonderful ninth hand book shop find; an oeuvre penned, or possibly, crayoned by a Victorian would-be domestic goddess.  Such creatures were ten a penny, not unlike now, really.  Our domestic geniuses have the back-up of a production team, food stylists, chefs to actually cook the stuff and make sure it\u2019s edible, and a post production editor to snip out the bits of film where the dinner fell on the floor.<\/font><\/p>\n

Pity our poor Victorian foremothers, stand-alone authoresses of questionable recipes, who were, in the language of recipe books everywhere, adapting successful formulae, or as we like to say in English, \u2018stealing\u2019 ideas from other books.  Such was the pressure from the publishers to produce the next money spinner that some beleaguered  authoresses hardly had time to read the original recipes before they wrote down the slightly altered version and signed it as their own.  This I feel may have been the reason for this curious recipe from Victorian authoress Mrs Beetroot.  What can I tell you?  Perhaps, don\u2019t try this at home would be the best advice.<\/font><\/p>\n

Braised Lion and Lamb<\/font><\/strong>.*<\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

Ingredients.
<\/em>1 small lion, a bunch of parsley, 5 or 6 newly unearthed carrots, half a pound of peas, a lamb, two blades of mace (pounded), a quart of clear water, salt to taste.<\/font><\/p>\n

Mode.
<\/em>First polish the pantry floor to a high shine using a cake of beeswax.<\/font> 
<\/em>Set a sharp fire.  Place the largest flat bottomed cooking pan upon the table laying a single layer of sliced carrots over the pounded mace in the pan.  Lead the lion into the kitchen, placing it into the pantry and firmly shut the door.  Fetch the lamb from the scullery and wash it in the sink, dry upon a cloth and remove the fur by trimming it closely with pinking shears.  The fur, which in verity is wool, should be put aside and saved; the household that attends to its own needs is a thrifty household and a happy household. The wool can be quickly knitted into socks by the means described at the foot of the page.  Lift the dried, shorn sheep into the pan, arrange it on the carrots and fetch the lion from the pantry.<\/font><\/p>\n

It is not within the scope of this work to describe the method of lion taming and little has been said in other works which I could describe to you.  If it is a quite small lion there is a possibility that inducements might suffice.  Wave foodstuffs that may draw the interest of the lion at the pantry door; bunches of parsley and an assortment of root vegetables should first be essayed.  If the lion shows little interest pour two or more bottles of wine into a bowl for the lion to drink, after which it is probably no difficult task to lead the lion by the ear into the kitchen.  Should the lion prove recalcitrant, or unwilling to leave the safety of the pantry which so resembles its native den, distract it by throwing a cheese from the shelf across the pantry; when it turns, obeying the hunting instinct, to follow the progress of the cheese, grasp it by the tassel at the end of the tail and drag it backwards from the pantry, assisted in no small measure by the highly polished floor.  In the kitchen give it two drops of common opium in a gill of water.<\/font><\/p>\n

Attend once more to the lamb in the pan.  If it has eaten many of the carrot slices cut more and lay them in a decorative manner over the lamb.  When the lamb is covered in carrots, pour a quart of water round it and set the dish upon the fire.<\/font><\/p>\n

Use a laundry hoist to lift the sleeping lion on to the table, trimming the mane with pinking shears, again saving the wool, for, whilst no lion wool doth a sock make, a thrifty wife can stuff a cushion with it.  Sprinkle salt on the lion, according to taste.  Shell the peas and press them all over the lion, if this causes the lion to wake, permit it to partake of more parsley, which will have the benefit of flavouring the dish at source.<\/font><\/p>\n

It may hap that the lamb, feeling the warmth, has exited the pan and is standing on the hearth, therefore wash its feet carefully with lye and rinse them in clear spring water before returning it to the pan to avoid ash in the gravy.<\/font><\/p>\n

Cook both and serve with new potatoes.<\/font><\/p>\n

Time<\/em>  5 hours.
Sufficient for thirty two persons.
Unsuitable for invalids or nursery food.
Cost per diner: elevenpence three farthings.<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

Knitting socks from raw wool.
<\/strong>Ingredients: <\/em>the wool from a small dinner sheep, dye, knitting needles.<\/font><\/p>\n

Mode<\/em>.
<\/strong>First make the dye by pounding madder roots in a vessel, for red socks.  Whilst red socks are known and valued for their warmth in winter, for a summer sock green would be cooler, in which case pound sprouts.  Spread the pounded dye upon the sheep clippings in a bowl and soak with sharp clear well water that has been boiled with the skins of two lemons.<\/font><\/p>\n

My editor has been at some pains to instruct me that sprouts are not in season in the summer, his wife puts them on the table no sooner than November, he says.  I have been at pains to instruct him that the socks could be made at any time of year; even the least affluent household could afford to use one candle in the winter to illuminate sprout pounding for sock dye.  Think of the joy sprout dyed socks could bring to the wearer at Christmas tide and with what pleasure he would anticipate the long summer days when he could parade them with seaside boots and bathing garters!<\/font><\/p>\n

Rinse the dyed wool, lay upon the needles and knit.<\/font><\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<\/font><\/p>\n

*There is a slight chance Mrs Beetroot may have misread a recipe for loin of lamb.  We shall never know and I must replace the book under my wonky table leg and return to ironing the wallpaper.  <\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

JaneLaverick.com – carefully placing carrots on the nose of history.<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Welcome, a few days early, to another extract from my wonderful ninth hand book shop find; an oeuvre penned, or possibly, crayoned by a Victorian would-be domestic goddess.  Such creatures were ten a penny, not unlike now, really.  Our domestic … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[90],"tags":[94,15,93],"class_list":["post-183","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-mrs-beetroots-book-of-household-mismanagement","tag-how-to-dye-socks","tag-humour","tag-recipe"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t