“Happy Thanksgiving! Have Some Onions.”

This may be the equivalent of the mall Christmas tree lit on November 2, and we do hate to be the bearers of potentially alarming news, but here goes: You guys, it’s pretty much the holidays. Here in the States, we’re just on the cusp of Thanksgiving—you know, that time each year when we gather with friends and family to celebrate the many blessings of life, specifically the survival of our Colonial forebears thanks in large part, one assumes, to buttered mashed potatoes and an enormous hors d’oeuvres table. (They invited their Native American neighbors over for a celebratory dinner, then sat around the table eating butter mints and cashews and lemon drops out of tiny paper baskets. I’m pretty sure that’s how it went, anyway. Otherwise, my family maaaaay be doing it wrong.)

Of course, there’s no greater blessing than a good book, and, uh, no more appropriate Thanksgiving meal than the historical dishes of the nation the original Thanks-givers left in the first place? (Or something.) That’s why we’d like to offer a few (ostensibly Jane-approved) Regency dishes you might try out this holiday season. Check out a few classic Austenacious takes on Regency recipes, each tested by our own Miss Osborne for Mrs. Fitzpatrick and myself!

  • Apple Puffs: It’s not pie. It’s a puff! Made of air! So really, you can eat, like, a million. It’s fine. It’s a puff.
  • Plum Pudding: Because nothing says “holiday” like dried fruit and raw beef or mutton fat!
  • The Onion Dish: Also contains eggs, butter, English mustard, white wine vinegar, and a bit of naming confusion.
  • Syllabub: It’s not called “cream sherry” for nothing, my friends.
  • Molasses Cakes: For those who have never had a Twinkie.

Enjoy, and don’t forget the butter mints.

“Happy Thanksgiving! Have Some Onions.”

Plum Pudding: Scorching Your Eyebrows Off Since the Middle Ages!

Christmas time is upon us, and what says “holiday spirit” better than steaming up a magical mixture of Guinness, candied fruit peels, and straight-up Anglophilia—and then setting it all on fire? For hundreds of years, plum pudding has been known to bring families together and save ships in wild Atlantic storms, despite its lack of actual plums or resemblance to any kind of American-style pudding. Best of all, we’re pleased to announce that the recipe has morphed over the years and no longer requires meaty bits (as was common in the 1400s)—much to our relief, it’s managed to stay firmly in the dessert category since the 1800s.

Bring on the flaming brandy sauce!

Plum Pudding

(Adapted from a recipe provided by the delightful Mrs. Varley, whose diligence in preparing this treat annually will always be fondly remembered.)

Ingredients

5 cups fresh bread crumbs
1 cup light brown sugar
1 cup currants
2 cups raisins
1 and 1/3 cups golden raisins
1/3 cup chopped candied mixed peel
½ cup candied cherries
8 oz suet or veg fat equivalent (Crisco) [I used Crisco]
½ teaspoon salt
2–4 teaspoon mixed spice [I used half cinnamon and half nutmeg]
1 carrot, grated
1 apple, peeled, cored, and chopped
1 orange rind, grated
Juice of one orange
2 large eggs, beaten
2 cups Guinness (or whiskey) [I used Guinness]
Butter for greasing

Brandy Sauce

Mix brandy, confectioners sugar, and butter. [I didn’t have specific measurements, so I winged it. There is, after all, no going wrong with these three ingredients.]

Instructions

1. Put bread crumbs, sugar, dried fruit, and peel in large mixing bowl.
2. Add suet, salt, mixed spice, carrot, apple, and orange. Mix well.
3. Stir eggs, orange juice, and Guinness into bread crumbs.
4. Leave mixture overnight, stirring occasionally if possible.
5. Butter two 2-pint heatproof bowls and place fitted parchment paper (cut into circle to fit in bowl).
6. Stir mixture and turn into bowls. Top bowls with buttered parchment paper that will fit just over mixture on top of bowl. Cover bowls tightly with more layers of parchment paper and then a top layer of foil that folds over sides of bowl (secure tightly).
7. Steam bowls in a couple of inches of water for 6–7 hours. Keep checking them to make sure water is maintained at that level and steams bread pudding (no water can get into mixture).
8. After pudding is cooked through, cool, recover, and store in cool place.

Invert the pudding onto a serving dish. Put a sprig of holly in the top of the pudding, pour warm brandy, on top and light. (If you value your eyebrows, be sure to stand back.) After the applause and the flames have died out, serve slices of pudding. It’s handy to have warm brandy sauce in a small jug (or a measuring cup will do) to pour over each slice before it’s served. Don’t be shy about using plenty of sauce!

Makes 2 puddings, each serving 6–8 people.

Dear readers, I’ll be honest with you. Making a plum pudding is a pain in the arse! I couldn’t find candied peels, and ended up making those from scratch (which wasn’t difficult, but I was pressed for time); I also had trouble finding a day when I could watch over the steaming pudding for six hours. (I also didn’t pay much attention to the directions and didn’t realize that the mix was supposed to rest overnight. I only had it sitting around for two hours—quelle horreur!—but it came out fine.) Annoyances aside, it really is delicious . . . particularly if you’re liberal with the brandy sauce!

Photo credit: ©2010 Christine Osborne. All rights reserved.
Plum Pudding: Scorching Your Eyebrows Off Since the Middle Ages!

How to Throw a Serious Jane Austen Party

We need more parties, don’t we? Well, I know I do, especially Jane Austen parties! Other people have ventured opinions on this topic. 99% of them involve a) tea, b) watching movies, or c) both. I’m in favor of all three of these activities (well, duh), but I do think we could broaden our horizons here, venture across the ha-ha, as it were.

Basic steps: This write-up has some good ideas, including period card games, period snacks, and trivia. Be warned that you are venturing into weirder territory here than you know, as Miss Osborne’s cooking experiments have shown us. Stick to syllabub, is my advice. As far as card games go, I love them, but Miss Austen did not, or at any rate none of her heroines did. So if you play them, stick to the more “comfortable, noisy” games, like Speculation, and avoid Whist as all costs. Whist (the precursor of Bridge) is bo-ring, both in Mansfield Park and in my experience. Still, you get good discussions around the card table, and good insights into people’s characters, the Crawfords’ in particular.

Crafty steps: While “painting tables, covering screens, and netting purses” may draw derision from Mr. Darcy, I am all in favor of “cutting up silk and gold paper” as the girls do in Persuasion, and crafts in general. Here’s some Regency party craft ideas.

Ballsy steps: Lots of places have Regency balls, where you can be spurned by Mr. Darcy and overhear Mr. Elton insulting your best friend, and have good times generally. You can also do this at home, even if you have to dance down the hall to lively tunes from your MP3 player. (It’s better than Mary Bennet on the piano.) Make sure to have white soup, negus, and indiscreet conversations, and, ladies, I happen to know that many gentlemen find Regency/square dancing less intimidating than ballroom. Show them diagrams! Let them figure it out!

RPG steps: It’s funny how you never hear “role-playing” and “Jane Austen” in the same sentence, especially when you consider all that fanfic out there. So, if you are really feeling adventurous, I suggest designing some sort of Austen role-playing activity. You could,  you know, assign the different parts from a book beforehand, get everyone together, and let them have at it. Sounds sort of like Lost in Austen, doesn’t it? Or, since it’s almost Halloween, why not do a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies flash mob? Everyone decide beforehand whether you’ll be a zombie, a Bennet sister, or an innocent bystander; show up someplace and have it out! Regency zombie battles on the National Mall! I see this happening, people! Serious Austen party-ers will do this in full costume, of course. But watch where you put that sword. You could put someone’s eye out with that thing.

Olympic steps: OK, OK, it’s true that zombies aren’t genuine Austen. But it’s also true that whenever you get together, you are probably having a party pretty close to one Jane Austen wrote! Oh, the food, drink, dancing, and clothes might be different, but I bet the social dynamics are not far off. I know that’s not what you want to hear, though, so I suggest the Jane Austen Olympics! Events can include: the 100-meter Dash Across the Lawn to Find Mr. Bennet, the All-Terrain Walk to Netherfield (points deducted per inch of dirty hem), the Louisa Musgrove Stair-Jumping Contest, the Pairs’ Rainy Hillside Rescue Dance, Fencing Wits, and Conversational Gymnastics (Lizzie’s an odds-on favorite there, clearly), and . . . .

But you see! The possibilities are endless! Now get your corsets on, go out there, and PARTY!!!

Photo credits: ©juzka81. Used through Creative Commons licensing.

How to Throw a Serious Jane Austen Party

The Supersizers Go . . . Regency

Given that the ladies of Austenacious think mainly about two things, food and Jane Austen, you’d be surprised at how long it took us to put the two together and think about Jane Austen’s food! Well, now we are, and we have great plans in the works. In the meantime, though, Miss Osborne came across The Supersizers Go . . . and The Supersizers Eat . . . in her researches. This show is hilarious and educational and disgusting! You must watch! We command thee!

http://www.youtube.com/p/BAA6E8319B127BC9&hl=en_US&fs=1

If you don’t see the player above, here’s the Regency series on YouTube.

The Supersizers Go . . . Regency