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Concerning Chartreuse, Dr. Thudicum has related some interesting particulars. "The religious brotherhood called Chartists, or Carthusians, (one compulsory rule of which order was a total abstinence from flesh) devised an elaborately constructed dish which was named a Chartreuse," "the queen of modern entrées," quoth Careme. "La Grande Chartreuse ne doit contenir, comme on soit, que de legumes et des racines." Such a Chartreuse (the most accomplished of hot vegetable combinations) could be perfect only in the months between May and August, inasmuch as the vegetables necessary for its production are only then in the desired state of growth and tenderness. Eventually, however, parts of fish and shellfish were allowed to be introduced by Careme, leaving only the casing to consist of the legitimate vegetables and roots. At last, together with the Chartists went the Chartreuse, and its name became misapplied to a simple pudding made incongruously of flesh and vegetables, whilst distinguished by French cooks as à la Parisienne. Next the predilections of the Carthusians extended from concretes to abstracts, and from pies they ascended to liqueurs, this advance being effected by a process of evolution which passed through an apple pudding. The Chartreuse of apples began with applejam, (called in mistake marmalade by French and German cooks); then Angelica entered as an ornamenting incrustation over the yellow, red, and white apples cemented together by the jam, the whole being boiled in a water-bath, and turned out on a plate. Here ended the apple Chartreuse, the apples assuming therein their ancient rights, and shapes. But the Angelica wandered to the brandy bottle, and Chartreuse developed into a spirit, the Carthusians becoming at length manufacturers of liqueurs. Sic transit gloria Carthusianorum." Modern Chartreuse is now compounded at Tarragona, in Spain, having among its herbal ingredients (mostly secret) carnations, and the young buds of pine. Orange liqueur is made, according to an old Dutch recipe, by peeling very thinly ten oranges and ten lemons; then putting the peel into four bottles (in quantity) of good Cape brandy, adding four pounds of white sugar. Let it stand thus for eight, or ten days, stirring each day morning and evening; strain, and bottle. 66 Concerning Wormwood liqueur, see ABSINTHE.
Angostura cordial is chiefly flavoured with bark bearing that a name, from the Angostura, or Cusparia febrifuga, other spices being added. This bark has a tonic operation without astringency, being of particular service in the typhoid state of fevers, and especially in tropical dysentery. It contains a volatile oil, resins, gum, salts, and cusparin, tannin not being present. The tree is found abundantly on the mountains near the Orinoko river. Angostura liqueur is now manufactured at Trinidad. The Table, an excellent culinary magazine, is astonished as to how the use of liqueurs has lately grown in this country. " Time was when they were used only by a few; but now every suburban householder offers them after dinner; and at every luncheon and supper party the liqueurs make their appearance as a matter of course. Even ladies when lunching, or dining alone, regard their coffee and petit verre as quite a necessity. Nor is it the sweet variety only which they patronize; indeed, absinthe, and cognac are as much used as the sweet liqueurs. Benedictine, however, seems to be first favourite; also Chartreuse, and Kümmel, are very popular, but there appears to be a general belief that the former of these two is on the decrease. Noyau is quite out of the running, though this was formerly by preeminence the ladies' liqueur; but Curaçoa, and crème de menthe have wholly taken its place, with them at least."
The Ratafias are liqueurs which have not been distilled, since, for obtaining the perfume, aroma, and colour of a fruit, its expressed juice may be best put into brandy, so as to fabricate the different ratafias; and because the majority of these juices are full of water strong, brandy must be used. For a qualmish stomach disposed to nausea, and sickness, a ratafia pudding is usefully remedial. Butter a pie dish, and cover its bottom inside with ratafia biscuits in a single layer; proceed in the same way with the sides of the dish, then over all strew some sponge-cake crumbs thickly. Beat an egg, mix it with two ounces of cake crumbs, and about an ounce of crushed ratafias; make a pint of blancmange (using Bird's powder, of noyau flavour); while it is hot beat it with the egg, presently pour into the dish, and after it has stood for a short time, bake it in a steady oven. When the pudding is turned out, garnish it on the top with small lumps of brightly coloured jelly, either raspberry, or red currant. If wishing to use a shallow dish, then reduce the quantities of cake crumbs, and of ratafias mixed in the blanc mange, to one fourth. Cook only long enough to set, and lightly brown the pudding. For Grenoble ratafia, "Take three pounds of Morella cherries, and crush them without removing the stones, adding the thinly cut rind of half a lemon, and allow them to steep for a month in two quarts of strong brandy. This may be flavoured at will with cinnamon and cloves. Pass through the sieve, press out the pulp, and filter through paper." "A captain bold at Halifax, who dwelt in country quarters, Deceived a maid, who hanged herself one morning in her garters; His wicked conscience smited him, he lost his stomach daily, Then took to drinking Ratafie, and thought upon Miss Bailey." Similarly a Muscat ratafia can be made from stoned Muscat grapes, crushed, and soaked in strong brandy for eight days; then put through a sieve without pressure, and filter, and add sugar to this ratafia.
The entry is half essay, half recipe collection: an orange liqueur, a ratafia pudding, and two fruit ratafias, wrapped in a digression on the Carthusians. One of the recipes rests on a practice no modern cook should copy.
- Crushed cherry stones are the problemThe Grenoble ratafia crushes three pounds of morello cherries without removing the stones and steeps them a month. Crushed stone kernels release amygdalin, which breaks down into hydrogen cyanide in the presence of water and enzymes, and a month's maceration in spirit is precisely the extraction step. This is the same chemistry that makes bitter almonds unsafe; commercial kirsch and noyau are produced under controls that a jar on a shelf does not provide. Use a current recipe if you want a cherry cordial.
- Noyau flavouring in the puddingThe pudding calls for Bird's blancmange powder "of noyau flavour" — noyau being a kernel flavouring in the same family. That product is long gone, and the ratafia biscuits themselves were traditionally made with bitter almond. Modern almond extract and modern ratafia-style macaroons are made with benzaldehyde or sweet almond and carry none of the old risk.
- "Four bottles (in quantity)" of brandyAn ambiguous measure. A Victorian wine bottle ran roughly 26 fluid ounces, so four bottles is somewhere in the region of two and a half to three quarts, or about three litres, but the original gives no fixed capacity and the figure should be treated as approximate. Cape brandy simply means South African brandy; any decent unaged grape brandy stands in.
- A "steady oven"The book gives no temperatures, so any figure is a modern guess; treat it as a moderate oven, somewhere around 300-325F. The instruction that follows matters more than the number: cook only until set and lightly coloured. It is a baked blancmange bound with one egg, and it will weep if pushed.
- Morella cherriesMorello — the dark, sour cooking cherry, not a sweet eating variety. The name is spelled several ways in nineteenth-century texts.
- Chartreuse the dish, not the drinkThe historical passage describes a moulded vegetable entrée lined with cut roots, which is what Carême meant by the word. It is not a recipe here; no quantities or method are given, and the paragraph is antiquarian rather than practical.
- The medical claimsAngostura bark as a tonic "of particular service in the typhoid state of fevers" and ratafia pudding as a remedy for nausea are period therapeutics, not advice. The book's whole premise is that food is medicine, and this is the premise showing.
The Carthusian connection in this passage is real, if compressed: the monks of the Grande Chartreuse near Grenoble had been producing a herbal elixir since the eighteenth century, and the book's remark that "modern Chartreuse is now compounded at Tarragona, in Spain" dates the text neatly — the order was expelled from France under the 1901 associations law and moved production to Tarragona, where it continued for decades. Ratafia is the older and broader term: an infusion of fruit or kernels in spirit rather than a distillate, its name often traced to the Latin rata fiat, the drink taken to seal or ratify an agreement. By the late nineteenth century "ratafia" in English kitchens meant chiefly the small almond-flavoured biscuit, which is why the same entry can move from a cherry cordial to a pudding lined with ratafias without feeling the need to explain itself. The quoted complaint from The Table that every suburban householder now offers liqueurs after dinner, and that ladies lunching alone take absinthe as readily as crème de menthe, is a useful snapshot of how quickly the after-dinner petit verre spread down the social scale.