Crispy Peanut-butter Bars; or, Not the Absolute Pitts

Mrs. Hindle has many interests in life – handicrafts, old cook books, silent films, and referring to herself in the third person. It’s a rare treat when two of those interests meet.

ZaSu Pitts (1894-1963) made her film debut opposite Mary Pickford in A Little Princess in 1917 and a reviewer described her as “a frightened little marmoset”. She had the sort of face that lent itself to supporting roles which means after a solid career in the silents (including a part in the magnificent Greed of 1924) she effortlessly bridged the sound gap and went on to do film, radio, Broadway and television.

A tough competitor in the category of Best Cook Book Title on Mrs. Hindle’s Shelf

Her book on candy was published posthumously in 1963. There are several interesting recipes in it, but because of Christmas and a lackluster attempt to isolate a bit I was constrained to whatever ingredients I happened to have at home.

Peanut-butter bars it is.

The light corn syrup posed a problem. Not an ingredient commonly used here, it was certainly not something I just happened to have lying around. A bit of research suggested that corn syrup is used in candy making because it doesn’t crystallize and this gives a smooth finish. I have no idea if other syrups crystallize, but luckily I had a bit of glucose syrup left. It turned out not to be enough so I had to add a little maple syrup as well. Not sure if that affected the taste in the end.

Your ingredients.

Mix your dry ingredients and heat the sugar and syrup until it comes to a boil.

This was the last photo I got, after this I was too busy stirring.

When the mixture boils, add peanut butter and vanilla. Vanilla is tricky. ZaSu doesn’t specify what she uses – extract or an actual pod? And if it’s extract, I have no idea how strong extract 60 years ago was compared to now. My solution was to just pour in a splash that seemed adequate. It seemed to work.

Butter your dish. Or have your child do it for you.

Pat the mixture into a greased dish and set to cool. Work fast because this stuff gets sticky very rapidly. Actually everything is rapid here – apart from the cooling I doubt this recipe took more than 15-20 minutes to make.

Normally I tend to prefer older books – 100 years is my rather arbitrary cut-off point – but I will make equally arbitrary exceptions and when I found out about this book a few years ago I had to include it in my collection. I found a copy in Massachusetts, through the wonders of the internet. I enjoy buying second-hand books from all over because often I’ll find something stuck between the book when it arrives.

This one was no different – wouldn’t you just love browsing Whately Book Centre’s shelves? Alas, it seems they have closed doors business last March. Not that I was likely to ever visit Massachusetts. I hope the proprietors got a kick out of sending this book all the way to Finland.

When your dish has cooked a bit, cut it into suitable pieces. Mine weren’t big, but Hindle Child #1 said they need to be smaller so she can pop a whole one on her mouth.

Pictured: apparently not a suitable piece.

I was pleasantly surprised by how easily the squares came out of the dish. The treats were fluffy and sweet, but not sickly sweet, with a pleasant taste of peanut. Hindle Child #2 announced that she intended to have a mandarin and a peanut bar for breakfast.

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Almond Puffs; or, Greetings from London

Mrs. Hindle has been on a bit of a hiatus due to a trip to London with her good sister, Mrs. P. Much merriment was had, refreshments were taken at appropriate tea-related times, public houses were visited, and dainties enjoyed. In honour of this successful trip, today’s blog deals with London.

The London Tavern was opened in Bishopsgate, London, in 1768. It became famous for its good food and skilled waiters and many meetings were held on the premises. So well-know was it as a meeting venue that Charles Dickens used it in Nicholas Nickelby as a location for a public discussion on the issue of “petitioning Parliament in favour of the United Metropolitan Improved Hot Muffin and Crumpet Baking and Punctual Delivery Company.” He may have been making a snide joke.

The building that housed the Tavern was torn down in 1876 so I couldn’t go there for a meal. Luckily one John Farley (1755 or 1756-1827) worked there as head chef during the Tavern’s heyday and recorded his recipes (and many he copied from previous works) in a book called The London Art of Cookery, first published in 1783. Farley is a cook according to my heart – a true man of the Enlightenment. In his preface he states that “Cookery, like every other Art, has been moving forward to Perfection by slow Degrees /…/ we find that daily Improvements are still making therein“. “Cookery“, he adds, “must be considered as an art“. Alas, as will become apparent, Mrs. Hindle has not yet reached the level of a true artis. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves! My recipe of choice from Farley’s book was almond puffs, a little something to serve at young miss Hindle’s 6th birthday party.

What you need. That’s almond, eggs, sugar and orange-flower water.

I started with 60 grams of almonds and ground them up in a food processor. The orange-flower water obviously adds taste and scent to the puffs, but I’m under the impression it also prevents the almonds from going too oily if beaten in a mortar. I didn’t try beating the almonds in a mortar, my mortaring skills are still rudimentary.

Once the almonds were ground fine I whisked the three egg-whites into a hard froth. Remember egg-whites whisk better if you do it in a metal or ceramic bowl, and make sure all your tools are clean and dry. Kitchen chemistry and all that. The recipe was not particularly clear on how much orange-flower water and sugar to add, but in all I put in about 3/4 dl sugar, partly while whisking the whites and partly afterwards. So, final recipe:

60 g almonds, ground up

1 tblsp orange-flower water

The whites of 3 eggs

3/4 dl sugar

Flower water and sugar is up to your own tastes, or course. What I ended up with, anyway, was a semi-solid batter that could be easily dropped into small piles, like thus:

Piles.

So far so good, but now came my tragic error. The recipe calls for a cool oven. I figured I was dealing with something akin to meringues and turned the oven to about 130 degrees C. After 45 minutes I thought they looked a nice golden colour and pulled them out, only to have them sag into sticky lumps.

Sticky lumps.

Now, don’t get me wrong – they were tasty sticky lumps. But the consistency was all wrong. I’m guessing I would have needed to have the oven considerably hotter. They were still tasty enough for me to try them again, though!