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Can we talk about food? Honestly, I don’t know how our heroines aren’t big as houses–most of the lifestyle books I’ve read about the Regency suggest that butter was big, and vegetables weren’t. Plus dinners were long, drawn-out events with course upon course upon course.

If I had lived during that time, I would be challenging Prinny to a weight-off.

Why am I talking about this? Because, like a lot of women, my eating is psychologically motivated. My agent is in the midst of submitting my Regency-set historical, Lessons In Love, and so far I’ve gotten three [very nicely-worded] rejections. My immediate response has been to head for the cookies. My next response has been to think about how I’m getting older (I’m 42; here I am in one of my favorite vintage dresses. It hides a lot.), the metabolism seems to be slowing, working out is hard enough without carrying extra poundage, and really, eating cookies is such a silly reaction. So I settle for a rice cake or iced coffee or something. I’ve still gained a few pounds, but at least it’s not more than a few pounds.

I’m guessing some of the more expertish of Riskies know exactly what the ladies did back then to keep from expanding like the universe–constantly. There was all that needlework, the occasional sidesaddle horseback ride, walking around the gardens, changing clothes, writing letters, etc., etc. No elliptical for those women.

I am guessing that some of you, as well as my fellow Riskies, also have “bad” reasons for eating; what do you do to stave it off? (And why does eating have to be “good” or “bad”?) What’s your favorite ‘me time’ indulgence? How do you think our heroines kept their slim, girlish figures?

Megan

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I like food. I like to read about food and cooking although I rarely follow recipes. So I very much enjoyed this entertaining book by Ian Kelly (Diane blogged about his biography of Beau Brummell a few months ago) about the great chef Antonin Careme, who cooked not only for Napoleon but also for the Prince Regent (who was delighted to hire his rival’s chef), Talleyrand, the Rothschilds, and the Tsar of Russia.

It’s hard to believe it now, when reading Careme’s lavish recipes–for instance, Les Petits Vol-Au-Vents a la Nesle–that his techniques and innovations formed our modern dining experience. He introduced dining a la russe–that is, with food individually plated and served, which, by the end of the nineteenth century, replaced dining a la francaise (where the food was placed on the table and diners fended for themselves). He believed vegetables should be served slightly crisp and that cooks should wash their hands. He invented the chef’s toque. He cooked for kings but he came from very humble beginnings–like a Dickensian hero, he was abandoned when very young to fend for himself on the streets of Paris.

Early on he developed an interest in architecture, taught himself to draw, and later became famous for his extraordinaires–elaborate architectural centerpieces made of spun sugar. These huge, fragile masterpieces were recycled and in some cases outlived their creator, who succumbed, like many in his profession, to charcoal poisoning at a relatively young age.

This is the entire picture from which the cover art was created–the kitchen of the Royal Pavilion at Brighton, pretty much as it was during Careme’s time there (1816-1817)–the palm tree leaves were added later. The center table is a huge steam table to keep food warm.

You can visit the kitchen as it looks now–scroll down the page to look at a 360 panoramic view.

And if you’d like to buy the book, it’s on sale at a massive discount (along with many other goodies) at Daedalus Books.

I don’t think I’m going to attempt any of the recipes, even the simpler ones–and Kelly warns that the modern palate may find them a little bland. But I do like reading about food and life below stairs, so I really enjoyed this book. How about you? Are you a cookbook junkie? Have you ever attempted a historic recipe?

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Because Janie asked for Regency-era recipes, I have translated one for everyone’s entertainment! (Remember, at Risky Regencies, we aim to please.)

So here’s an eighteenth century recipe for a Christmas pie which you might make if you’re peckish one afternoon:

TRADITIONAL CHRISTMAS PIE (with modern editorial comments)

1. Bone a large turkey, a goose, a large fowl, a partridge, and a pigeon. (When you’re done, you can give the bones to your children to play with.)
2. Open all of these birds down the back.
3. Season the inside of the turkey with mace, nutmeg, cloves, white pepper, and salt.
4. Put the goose inside the turkey, and season the inside of the goose in similar fashion.
5. In the same way, place the fowl in the goose, the partridge in the pear tree (sorry, got confused there a second! I mean the partridge in the fowl, of course), and the pigeon in the partridge, seasoning all the way.
6. Close them all up, and try your best to make it look just like one simple innocent turkey going about his business without lots of other folks inside him.
7. Case and bone a hare, and cut it into pieces along with six woodcocks, and five golden rings (sorry, lost myself again there — I mean a boned moor game bird, of course!)
8. Take ten pounds of butter and a bushel of flour, and mush it into a paste. (This should take about two minutes. If it takes longer, you need to work out at the gym more often.)
9. Shape this into a gigantic pie crust.
10. Put some seasoning inside the crust. (No, it doesn’t say what kind. I suggest cinnamon, because I know how to spell it. But maybe instant coffee would be nice too.)
11. Place Frankenstein’s turkey inside the crust, in a supine position.
12. Put the hare by the turkey’s left wing, and the game birds by its right. Or vice versa. It doesn’t really matter. Come to think of it, isn’t it about time the left wing and the right wing started unifying? So why don’t you just take the hare pieces (no, not hairpieces!) and game pieces (no, I don’t mean checkers) and mix them all up, and then just throw them in randomly.
13. Sprinkle seasoning over all. (Again, it doesn’t specify. Maybe nacho cheese seasoning?)
14. Put four pounds of butter on the top.
15. Make a top crust.
16. Put egg whites on the crust, cover the crust with paper (I suggest you not use the Sunday paper, because of the dyes), and bake it in a hot oven for six hours.

Enjoy!

The question for today is: What’s your favorite holiday food? Your least favorite?

Cara
Cara King — www.caraking.com
My Lady Gamester — which contains no Christmas pie of any kind, honest!

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