The pouter is a ghastly sight. I wonder how people dealt with chicken or pigeon bones while on a picnic (while maintaining etiquette). Having a kitchen's worth of cutlery makes life easier. I work in downtown Lowell and random chicken bones on the sidewalk are an occurrence. Someone is a slob.
Ugh, the pouter pigeon looks like a billiard ball on legs. And all that heavy Victorian cooking... What I hate most is that it was almost certainly healthier than what we eat now. I recall seeing a very British chicken pie on the massive kitchen table of a Rectory in Yorkshire. The vicar and his wife were family friends, and she had made the pie. It was simply loads of (boneless) chicken packed in a heavy, tasty crust, and somehow it was not heavy, and very tasty. Maybe aspic was involved? All told, a very Victorian experience, although the Vicar's wife was very cheerfully modern, not a bit of the 19th century about her!
Hmmm, aspic that's possible. A good gravy made with homemade chicken stock is what makes a chicken pot pie for me. Not so much the rump steak and ham, which seem to be garnishes in Mrs. Beeton's recipe. My family was fascinated by the feet sticking out of the pie. Maybe the next time I make pot pie . . .
The pouter is a ghastly sight. I wonder how people dealt with chicken or pigeon bones while on a picnic (while maintaining etiquette). Having a kitchen's worth of cutlery makes life easier. I work in downtown Lowell and random chicken bones on the sidewalk are an occurrence. Someone is a slob.
I wonder if there's an etiquette book out there that gives instructions on removing pigeon bones from one's mouth during dinner.
Ugh, the pouter pigeon looks like a billiard ball on legs. And all that heavy Victorian cooking... What I hate most is that it was almost certainly healthier than what we eat now. I recall seeing a very British chicken pie on the massive kitchen table of a Rectory in Yorkshire. The vicar and his wife were family friends, and she had made the pie. It was simply loads of (boneless) chicken packed in a heavy, tasty crust, and somehow it was not heavy, and very tasty. Maybe aspic was involved? All told, a very Victorian experience, although the Vicar's wife was very cheerfully modern, not a bit of the 19th century about her!
Hmmm, aspic that's possible. A good gravy made with homemade chicken stock is what makes a chicken pot pie for me. Not so much the rump steak and ham, which seem to be garnishes in Mrs. Beeton's recipe. My family was fascinated by the feet sticking out of the pie. Maybe the next time I make pot pie . . .