Cooking in the 18th Century
Well, I think about those things too. And I think about just how much harder our tasks would be if we were cooking in the 18th century.
In November, at some point many of us start seriously thinking about cooking. Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and we think about the bountiful feasts that we'd love to attend or give. Perhaps we imagine ourselves as the gracious host who spins pomegranate comfits, apple-spiced stuffing, and fig-walnut-cranberry sauce from the odds and ends on one's larder, effortlessly. Helped by merciful, culinary elves who seek to ease our burden, much the same way Rumplestilskin spun straw into gold for the fair-but-unskilled maid. Perhaps we fantasize about bringing the dish to the family table over at Aunt Berenice's that will be talked about and flattered over all others.
Well, I think about those things too. And I think about just how much harder our tasks would be if we were cooking in the 18th century.
As the technology of cookery advanced through the centuries, so did the equipment. First, in fits and starts. For many centuries, open fires and open hearths ruled cuisines. If you were lucky enough to live in early China or Japan, you could cook your food in a fairly efficient, closed stove. If you lived in Europe, you'd have to wait until the 17th century for that convenience, for the most part.
Closed-stoves came to Europe in the form of charcoal-burning structures called "potagers" (above). Known in the ancient world and used in the Mediterranean remnants of their empires (a potager-type of stove was discovered in the Vesuvius-entombed Roman city of Herculaneum), it was unknown in the majority of Europe until the 17th century. Introduced in France towards the end of the 1600s, it was made of masonry and had multiple holes in a row along the surface (called "stewholes"), which heated the food on the top. The major advances these appliances gave was that the cooking temperatures were easier to maintain consistently, the charcoal fuel did not smoke nearly as much as wood fuel, and you were much less likely to catch on fire while you tried to prepare the evening meal.
It is thought that Thomas Jefferson helped introduce the potager to America after being introduced to it during his time in France. He had long banks of stewholes installed in the kitchens of both Monticello and Poplar Forest (the retreat he fled to after the British occupied Monticello). Outside of Jefferson's abodes, an extant American example can be found in the kitchen of the New Orleans Hermann-Grima House (1831; the potager shown above is from the Hermann-Grima House).
After potager came metal stoves, then gas-burning, then electric, then induction. Along the way styles of earlier eras were jettisoned, until today, when we now look back to earlier stove forms with lovelorn nostalgia, forgetting what drafthorse work and they often required, as well as a time commitment of hours that would have made Bob Cratchit's turn at Scrooge's counting house a pleasant, little diversion. Wood was required to fire these mouths. And in the 18th century, for most that meant you chopped your own. Ever chopped wood? With an analog axe (something that didn't come from Black & Decker)? It's a lot of work. A lot of work. A. Lot. Of. Work.
And of course, that was just the beginning.
After you chopped the wood, you had to feed the fire. And you had to do it with different-sized pieces that made it that much harder to maintain a consistent cooking temperature. No knobs, no dials. Just the fire, maybe a turning spit, and your own swollen muscles building up lactic acid from rotating it.
.
Syndicate
to this blog