Cider Jelly
One ounce French gelatine soaked over night in a pint of cold water; boil a stick of cinnamon in a pint of water a few minutes, pour over the gelatine; dissolve a tea-cupful of sugar in a pint of cider; strain and set to cool.
A clear, wobbling moulded jelly of the kind that closed a light supper in the late nineteenth century. It works exactly as written, but the gelatine and the cider both need translating.
- The gelatineAn ounce is about 28 g, or four envelopes of modern granulated gelatine. Gelatine sold as "French" was generally regarded as a finer grade than the ordinary domestic product; leaf gelatine works well here, and today you would bloom it for five to ten minutes rather than overnight.
- Total liquid and setA pint of soaking water, a pint of cinnamon infusion and a pint of cider give three pints (about 1.4 L). One ounce of gelatine to that volume gives a firm jelly that will unmould cleanly. For a softer, spoonable set, use three envelopes.
- A tea-cupfulSmaller than a modern measuring cup — reckon on about 3/4 cup, or 150 g of sugar. Taste the cider first; sharp cider takes the full amount, a sweet supermarket cider needs less.
- Which ciderIn American household books of this period "cider" may mean either the sweet unfermented pressing or the fermented drink, and this recipe does not say which. Either makes a good jelly; hard cider gives a drier, more adult flavour.
- Keep the cider coldThe cider is not boiled, only stirred into the hot gelatine mixture. Make sure the gelatine is fully dissolved in the hot cinnamon water before the cold cider goes in, or you will get threads.
- StrainingStrain through a fine sieve lined with damp muslin. Cider carries fine sediment and the cinnamon sheds bark; a clear jelly is the whole point of the dish.
- ChillingFour to six hours in the refrigerator, or overnight. A wetted mould, or a bowl rinsed in cold water, releases the jelly with a brief dip in warm water.
- YieldThree pints serves six to eight. Serve cold, with whipped cream or a plain pouring cream if you like.
Moulded jellies were a marker of a well-run table long before packaged gelatine, when the base was calf's-foot stock boiled down and clarified with egg white over the better part of a day. Commercially processed sheet gelatine, imported and sold as "French," put that effect within reach of an ordinary household kitchen in the second half of the nineteenth century, and cookery books filled with wine jellies, lemon jellies and cider jellies as a result. Cider was an obvious American flavouring: cheap, seasonal, and on hand in quantity anywhere apples grew.