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Land of the Lost Ketchups: Civil War
Ketchups
Walk into a fast food restaurant today (purely for
research purposes of course, unless your lunch was severely
delayed and you are in danger of swooning) and you will find
a pretty standardized rack of condiments.
Salt, pepper, probably mayonnaise, check. Items like tartar,
soy or horseradish sauce depending on the particular variety
of industrial byproduct sold in the store. And then, almost
as certain to be there as the salt, you find the little
packets or pump tube labeled "ketchup."
Ah, but transport that restaurant back in time a century and
a half or so, and the list would have been quite different.
Not only was the French fry not on the menu, it not having
been invented yet, but a request for ketchup would have
resulted in the question of "what sort?" And asking for
"tomato ketchup, please" would have gotten you marked down
as something of an oddball if not an outright troublemaker.
For most people, a ketchup was a sauce made out of
mushrooms.
Not that those two were the only varieties, as we shall soon
see. Walnut ketchup, lemon ketchup, ketchups based on
oysters, cockles and mussels, a vast array of fruits--even
something called "pudding catchup" was available. Once you
switch the spelling from "ketchup" to "catchup" it is no
great leap to "catsup" and this leads to atrocities like
"double catsup" or even (we shudder to admit) "dogsup."
(Cats, to dogs, you see....? Alas, any joke which has to be
explained clearly has failed to work as a joke, but if you
think 19th century cooking is different from that of today
you should look into what passed for humor back then. Oy veh!
But we digress.)
Once your serving wench--we are far back in time, remember,
please don't throw things-- brings you your tomato catsup
your confusion is enhanced rather than reduced. What, you
wonder but are polite enough not to exclaim, is this brown
sludge you see before you? Where is the bright redness that
any respectable product of a Heinz or Hunt factory would
have? And then there are consistency issues: isn't ketchup
supposed to be perfectly smooth? This brown stuff is...lumpy
to say the least. Eww.
Don't believe us? You can walk into a museum in downtown
Kansas City, Missouri, and check out a bottle of
commercially produced catsup. This might not seem remarkable
or you might even think we are suggesting a trip to the
museum food court, but this bottle was made sometime around
the year 1856.
We know this because it was part of the cargo of the
sidewheel steam ship Arabia, which sank in that year
carrying a large cargo of merchandise for stores up the
Missouri river. Only rediscovered in the late 1980s, the
ship's cargo and portions of the Arabia itself were
recovered and the museum built to house them is considered
one of the finest--if not the only--resource for typical
life in "the West" on the verge of the Civil War. We suspect
the museum management will take a dim view if you ask to
open the ketchup bottle and examine the contents, but it
can't hurt to ask.
Let us proceed to the recipe and see how this stuff came to
be.
TOMATO CATSUP (from The Housekeeper's
Encyclopedia by Mrs. E. F. Haskell, 1861)
1 gallon tomatoes
3 tbs. salt
3 tbs. ground black pepper
3 tbs. (dry) mustard, or ground mustard seed
1 tsp. ground allspice
4 peppers, type unspecified but "sweet", not hot
1 onion (optional)
1 quart horseradish "juice" (roots grated and liquid pressed
out)
Select tomatoes not overripe, skin and strain the tomatoes;
to every gallon add three table-spoons of salt, three of
ground black pepper, three of mustard, and one teaspoon of
ground allspice; mix the spices in a part of the tomato, and
strain them through a sieve; put in a small bag four large
pods of sweet peppers and, if relished, one onion, and boil
them with the catsup while it is being reduced; add the
expressed juice of one quart of horseradish, and reduce it
until it is of the proper consistency to pour from the
bottles without difficulty; let the catsup remain in the
bottles, with a piece of cotton cloth tied loosely on the
neck, for three months to ripen, when cork and seal tightly.
"Pepper pods" are simply whole peppers, not divisions
thereof. Slicing them into strips will both free up
flavoring elements and reduce the space the pepper bag takes
up in the boiling pot. Depending on the type of pepper
used--which is not easy since even producers of "heirloom"
vegetables today often trace their varieties back only as
far as the late 19th or even early 20th century--you may
wish to remove the core and seeds before boiling.
This is of course far from the only version of the condiment
even if we confine ourselves strictly to tomatoes here. Mrs.
M. H. (Mary Hooker) Cornelius gives us one which is very
similar to Mrs. Haskell's above, then the following, which
she notes "retain[s] the color and flavor of the Fruit."
ANOTHER CATSUP
1 gallon tomatoes
1/4 oz. mace
1/4 oz. nutmeg
1/4 oz. cloves
1/4-1/2 c. ("a handful") grated horseradish root
2 red peppers or 1 tsp. cayenne
Salt
1 pint wine
1/2 pint vinegar
Skin and slice the tomatoes, and boil them an hour and a
half. Then put to one gallon not strained, a quarter of an
ounce of mace, the same of nutmegs and cloves, one handful
of horseradish, two pods of red pepper, or a large
teaspoonful of cayenne, and salt as you like it. Boil it
away to three quarts, and then add a pint of wine and half a
pint of vinegar. Bottle it, and leave the bottles open two
or three days; then cork it tight. Make this catsup once,
and you will wish to make it every year.
Here again we see the direction to leave the bottled product
exposed to the air, although at least we are down to "two or
three days" rather than Mrs. Haskell's outlandish "three
months." Since these sauces were to be made when the
tomatoes were ripe and then stored for use throughout the
year, this instruction is particularly baffling as it seems
guaranteed to lead to a putrid, moldy goop in fairly short
order.
What we also see is that this was a vastly tangier product
than the stuff we dump by the gallon over our burgers and
fries today. The catsups of the 19th century were intended
for use in very small quantities. Mrs. Cornelius says "This
kind of catsup is specially designed to be used in soups,
and stewed meats," as a flavor enhancer and appetite
stimulant. Ketchup was not a vegetable in those days either.
From the at-least-vaguely-familiar territory of a catsup
based on the known tomato, we turn now into the trackless
wilderness of those sauces which have gone the way of the
dodo and the passenger pigeon in the intervening century.
The best known loser in the ketchup evolutionary race, the
T-rex of its kind as it were, comes to us from the land of
the fungi.
MUSHROOM CATCHUP (from The Cook's Oracle by Dr. William Kitchiner, 1832) (some text omitted as Dr. Kitchiner was an
incredibly longwinded twit if you must know, or else he got
paid by the word)
1 quart mushrooms
Salt
1 and 1/2 oz. black peppercorns, whole
1/2 oz. allspice, whole
Brandy
...Look out for mushrooms from the beginning of September.
Take care they are the right sort, and fresh gathered.
Full-grown flaps are to be preferred: put a layer of these
at the bottom of a deep earthen pan, and sprinkle them with
salt; then another layer of mushrooms, and some more salt on
them; and so on alternately, salt and mushrooms: let them
remain two or three hours, by which time the salt will have
penetrated the mushrooms, and rendered them easy to break;
then pound them in a mortar, or mash them well with your
hands, and let them remain a couple of days, not longer,
stirring them up and mashing them well each day; then pour
them into a stone jar, and to each quart add an ounce and a
half of whole black pepper, and half an ounce of allspice;
stop the jar very close, and set it in a stew-pan of boiling
water, and keep it boiling for two hours at least.
Take out the jar, and pour the juice clear from the
settlings through a hair-sieve (without squeezing the
mushrooms) into a clean stew-pan; let it boil very gently
for half an hour: those who are for superlative catchup,
will continue the boiling till the mushroom-juice is reduced
to half the quantity; it may then be called double cat-sup
or dog-sup.
There are several advantages attending this concentration;
it will keep much better, and only half the quantity be
required; so you can flavour sauce, &c., without thinning
it....
Skim it well and pour it into a clean dry jar, or jug; cover
it close, and let it stand in a cool place till next day;
then pour it off as gently as possible (so as not to disturb
the settlings at the bottom of the jug.) through a tamis, or
thick flannel bag, till it is perfectly clear; add a
table-spoonful of good brandy to each pint of catchup, and
let it stand as before; a fresh sediment will be deposited,
from which the catchup is to be quietly poured off, and
bottled in pints or half pints (which have been washed with
brandy or spirit): it is best to keep it in such quantities
as are soon used. Take especial care that it is closely
corked, and sealed down, or dipped in bottle cement.
We told you he was longwinded, and that's the trimmed and
edited version. Of course the one thing he doesn't go on
(and on and on) about are terms which to him were
commonplace and everyday, so let's go through a few of them:
--A "hair sieve" is not something you put in the shower
drain to keep your follicular rejects from clogging the
plumbing at an inconvenient moment, like ever. It isn't even
made of hair, but rather of fine threads or wires close
together. If a colander is a strainer for big things (for
objects the size of beans, spaghetti noodles, etc) then a
hair sieve provides the same service for much smaller ones.
A common hand-pumped or -cranked flour sifter would qualify
as a "hair sieve."
--A "tamis" (pronounced like the name "tammy" on account of
it is French) serves much the same function as the hair
sieve but the term is more commonly used for a strainer of
liquids rather than solids. Usage varies from one time and
author to the next. A modern recipe would just say "strain
through a doubled layer of cheesecloth." Blessed are the
cheesemakers, as the saying goes.
--"From which the catchup is to be quietly poured off" just
means pour gently so as not to get the sediment in the
bottom of the bottle stirred up and mixed with the liquid.
To continue with our trek through the deserted ruins of the
kingdom of ketchup...
OYSTER CATCHUP (from Kitchiner again, p. 285)
1 qt. oysters
1 pint sherry (wine)
1 oz. salt
2 drachms mace (about 1/4 tsp.)
1 drachm Cayenne pepper (about 1/8 tsp.)
1 glass brandy (1/4 c. )
Take fine fresh Milton oysters; wash them in their own
liquor; skim it; pound them in a marble mortar; to a pint of
oysters add a pint of sherry; boil them up, and add an ounce
of salt, two drachms of pounded mace, and one of Cayenne;
let it just boil up again; skim it, and rub it through a
sieve, and when cold, bottle it, cork it well, and seal it
down. Obs.--This composition very agreeably heightens the
flavour of white sauces, and white made-dishes; and if you
add a glass of brandy to it, it will keep good for a
considerable time longer than oysters are out of season in
England.
As is often the case with Kitchiner the British origins of
"his" book poke through the rather thin layer of
Americanization he was employed to cover it with. The first
clue, oyster aficionados will have already recognized, comes
in his recommendation of "Milton" oysters, a variety of the
mollusk native to a particular region in England. An
interesting discussion of the marketing value of such
nomenclature can be found here as we continue to wander.
And following the above recipe in Dr. Kitchiner's work is
one of his rare examples of terseness:
COCKLE AND MUSCLE CATCHUP
May be made by treating them in the same way as the oysters
in the preceding receipt.
The second mollusk mentioned here is more commonly spelled
"mussel" nowadays. But we continue, to the exceedingly
misleadingly named
FISH CATCHUP (Bryan)
2 qt. mushrooms
Salt
1 and 1/4 lb. anchovies
1 lb. onions, chopped
1/2 oz. allspice
1/2 oz. mace
1/4 oz. black pepper, whole
1/4 oz. red (cayenne) pepper
1/4 oz. ginger, sliced
2 qt. vinegar
2 qt. beer, strong
1 pint liquid in which anchovies were packed
Take two quarts of the proper mushrooms, chop them small,
and sprinkle them with salt. Mix with them a pound and a
quarter of anchovies, chopped small, one pound of chopped
onions, sprinkling them with salt, half an ounce of
allspice, half an ounce of mace, a quarter of an ounce of
whole black pepper, a quarter of an ounce of red pepper, and
a quarter of an ounce of sliced ginger. Put the whole into a
pan or kettle, with two quarts of good vinegar, two quarts
of strong beer and one pint of the anchovy liquor or pickle.
Cover the vessel, and boil it until the liquor is reduced
two quarts then strain, cool and bottle in securely. It will
be found fine for flavoring fish sauces, gravies, &c., and
if made as directed will be good for any length of time.
Sauces based on or including anchovies are both of great
antiquity, traceable back to the Roman Republic, and
extremely modern. Worcestershire sauce and similar products
are anchovy-based. As the fish lives entirely in the ocean
we are not sure how easily they would have been obtained by
the average backwoods housekeeper in Kentucky, but again we
drift off culinary matters into realms better left to
sociologists.
It is worth noting too that the fish-based catsups are
probably the most faithful to the "original" sauce. A fish
sauce from the Malay Peninsula known as "kitsap" is believed
to be that product, although other claims are made for
sauces of fresh or fermented fish from other parts of Asia
as well. Both the name and details of the makings evolved as
it passed from the Malay to the Dutch to the English and
then on around the world.
We are now leaving the carnivorous products for a more
vegetative tone:
WALNUT CATSUP (from Housekeeper's Encyclopedia, Haskell)
1 gallon walnut juice (see directions)
1 oz. cinnamon
1/2 oz. mace
1/4 oz. cloves
Salt
Bruise the nuts, press out the juice; add to a gallon an
ounce of cinnamon, half an ounce of mace, and a quarter of
an ounce of cloves; put the spices in a bag without rolling
or grinding; boil until the liquor is half reduced; pour it
in a jar; add a little salt; let it settle two days, and
filter until clear; bottle in pints or half-pints, and seal
the corks. It is better two years old.
We will pause while our readers of the masculine persuasion
unclench their legs after reading the first line of this
receipt. As to the actual process of walnut bruising and
pressing, we regret Mrs. Haskell does not give any further
details.
Possibly a press more usually employed to make apple cider
would serve? The thought of using a mortar and pestle on the
number of walnuts--which, recall, have already had to be
peeled of their tough outer coating and also extracted from
the shell--required to produce a gallon of their juice is
depressing indeed and causes incipient carpal tunnel
syndrome just from thinking about it. The wonders of modern
technology make it possible to buy the juice pre-pressed and
canned, but the process our ancestors used is lamentably
under-researched.
One possible explanation comes in our second version of
Walnut Catsup, this one from Mrs. Lettice Bryan's The
Kentucky Housewife, published in Cincinnati in 1832. This
one would seem to virtually require having the walnut tree
in one's front yard, or at least conveniently nearby:
WALNUT CATCHUP (Bryan)
Walnuts
Salt
Vinegar
(Per quart of resulting juice:)
1 oz. black pepper
1 oz. ginger, pounded
1/2 oz. allspice
1/2 oz. mace
1/4 oz. cloves.
The walnuts should be gathered while very young and tender,
so that you may pierce them through with a needle. Put them
into a stone jar, pour enough boiling water on them, that is
strongly impregnated with salt, to cover them well; tie a
cloth over them, and set them by for four days: then take
the from the liquor [liquid], mash them fine, put them into
a jar, and pour over enough good vinegar to cover them
entirely. Close the jar, and let them stand for two days,
stirring them well once a day: after which put them with the
vinegar into a linen bag; press through all the juice you
can, mix it with the other liquor, and to each quart add one
ounce of black pepper, one ounce of pounded ginger, half an
ounce of allspice, half an ounce of mace and a quarter of an
ounce of cloves. Boil it in a closely covered vessel for
twenty minutes, skimming it well, and when cold bottle it
for use.
While we think of walnut trees today as simply a common
feature of the landscape, they are in fact native to Asia
and did not come to North America until they were introduced
into California in the 1700s. The English, or Persian walnut
is most commonly eaten today, but whether it or the black
walnut was more popular in the Kentucky of 1832 is unknown.
Falling out of the tree, modern harvesters note, is usually
sufficient to cause the outer hulls to fall off on their
own, or "dehisce," a marvelous word indeed. Mrs. Bryan makes
no mention of getting the nuts out of the shells, however,
so possibly this step can be omitted. Not having a walnut
tree in the vicinity we have done no experiments ourselves.
Mushroom, tomato and walnut catsups were the Big Three of
their day, but this does not even come close to exhausting
the list. Making the following may exhaust the cook, but
let's plunge in and at least take a look:
CELERY CATSUP (Mrs. Haskell)
1 oz celery seed
1 tsp. white pepper, ground
6 oysters
1 tsp. salt
1 qt vinegar (strong--10 percent acid if available)
Mix an ounce of celery seed ground, with a teaspoon of
ground white pepper; bruise half a dozen oysters with a
teaspoon of salt; mix and pass the whole through a sieve;
pour over the mixture one quart of the best white vinegar;
bottle and seal tight.
Here we are bruising things again, although at least it's
mollusks this time so we trust there was less flinching.
Since oysters tend to be of a rather rubbery consistency it
may be hard to tell the difference between "bruising" and
"mashing to a pulp" but we leave such matters to the
discretion of the cook.
CATSUP FOR MUTTON CHOPS (Mrs. Haskell)
3 tsp. black pepper
3 tsp. dry mustard or ground mustard seed
1 tsp. allspice
3 tsp. salt
2 qts. horseradish, grated
1/2 onion (optional)
Vinegar
Three teaspoons of black pepper, three of mustard, one of
allspice, three of salt, mix the spices with two quarts of
grated horseradish, half an onion or not, as desired; beat
the ingredients together quickly; strain the liquor from the
radish, add one-quarter as much ten per cent. vinegar as
there is liquid; bottle in half-pint bottles, and cork
immediately.
CUCUMBER CATSUP (Mrs. Haskell)
Cucumbers
Vinegar
Salt
Grate large cucumbers before they begin to turn yellow;
drain out the juice and put the pulp through a sieve to
remove the large seeds; fill a bottle half-full of the pulp,
discarding the juice, and add the same quantity of ten per
cent. vinegar; cork tightly; when used, add pepper and salt;
sale kills the vinegar if put in when made. This is almost
like a fresh-sliced cucumber when opened for use.
The question this brings to mind is how bottled cucumber
mush can be said to resemble a fresh slice of the original,
but then again we are not great cucumber fans to begin with
so should probably keep quiet on the subject. Possibly this
would serve as something like an early form of pickle
relish. In any case most of these catsups are intended for
use as secondary ingredients in other sauces and not as
free-standing condiments.
Past the borders of the realm of the vegetables the
remainder of our exploration will take place in the orchards
and patches of fruit. (Well, mostly...but continue on to the
end because then it's time to hit the booze.)
PEACH CATSUP (Mrs. Haskell)
Peaches
Sugar
(Per quart of resulting juice:)
1 tsp. mace, broken not ground
2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves
1 tsp. black peppercorns, whole
Strong vinegar
Boil ripe peaches over steam with the pits; press out all
the juice; to every quart allow a pound of loaf-sugar; boil
without the sugar until it is reduced one-third; add to each
quart of juice before boiling a teaspoon of broken, not
ground, mace, two of cinnamon, half a teaspoon of cloves,
and one of peppercorns; boil all together; when half reduced
remove the spices, add the sugar, boil until quite thick,
and reduce to a convenient consistency for bottling with
strong vinegar.
The "boil over steam" simply means put the cut-up peaches,
with their pits, in the top of a double boiler. By this
process they can be heated to release their juice without
being diluted with water, as would be needed to keep the
fruit from burning if it was cooked directly over the heat.
Nearly all recipes from this period for "stone fruits" call
for including the pits, both shell and kernel, during
cooking. This is not usually advised today since it is now
known that the seeds contain a form of cyanide. Not very
much per pit, it is true, but one never knows where an
individual food sensitivity is liable to pop up. We would
suggest only serving the with-pit version to people you
particularly dislike, but that raises the question of why
you would go to the trouble of making such an exquisite
sauce for somebody you dislike? We will leave further
discussion of the subject to philosophers.
PLUM CATSUP (Haskell)
Whole plums
Per quart of resulting juice:
1 tsp. cinnamon sticks, broken
1 tsp. mace
1/2 tsp cloves
1/2 tsp pepper (black or red not specified)
2 lbs. sugar
1 qt. strong vinegar
Boil whole plums over steam; press out the juice; pass the
pulp through the sieve; boil in a quart of the juice a
teaspoon of broken cinnamon, one of mace, and half as much
of cloves and pepper until reduced [by] half; add this to
the pulp, with two pounds of loaf0sugar, and heat it,
stirring constantly; when the sugar is dissolved, reduce the
catsup with one quart of ten per cent. vinegar.
The straining is presumably intended to remove the plum
skins and seeds from the scene. "Loaf sugar" refers to the
way in which sugar was sold in these times, in solid
cone-shaped masses which were a result of the sugar refining
process. This made sugar usage a bit of a nuisance since it
had to be chopped into chunks which then had to be grated
into a granular form. While no doubt good for the health,
since it discouraged use of the product, it is not a matter
we need to bother with today.
The remaining fruit catsups are similar to the ones so far
noted, varying only in the types and amounts of spices used
in the different ones.
GRAPE CATSUP (Haskell)
Grapes
(Per quart of juice)
1 tsp. cinnamon, broken
1 tsp. mace
1/2 tsp. cloves
Wine or vinegar
Boil grapes over water; to each quart allow a teaspoon of
broken cinnamon, one of mace, one half-teaspoon of cloves;
simmer over water one hour; strain, and add to every quart
one pound of sugar; reduce nearly to jelly, and add wine or
vinegar to thin it to the proper consistency.
This is one which might be the easiest to attempt at home,
given the ready availability of high-quality, full strength
grape juice in stores. Just skip down to where it says "To
each quart allow" and proceed from there.
CHERRY CATSUP (Haskell)
1 lb. cherries
1 lb. "coffee sugar" (can substitute light or dark brown
sugar)
1 tsp. pepper
1 tsp. mace
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. ginger
1/2 tsp. cloves
Vinegar
To every pound of fruit allow one pound of coffee sugar;
boil the fruit and sugar together, drain off the syrup, and
to every quart add a teaspoon of pepper, one of mace, two of
cinnamon, one of ginger, and half a teaspoon of cloves; boil
until the syrup is highly flavored; pass the fruit through a
sieve, strain the syrup, add it to the pulp' boil all
together until of the consistency of very thick molasses;
thin with ten per cent. vinegar until it is only of the
consistency of common catsup. Bottle while hot and seal
immediately.
Coffee sugar, as best we can tell from historical sources,
was named as much for the fact that it was close to the
color of coffee as for the fact that it was commonly used to
sweeten that beverage. Sugar as a rule costs more the whiter
it is, since each step in processing takes out more of the
sap (molasses) that imparts the brown coloring. And as to
the "cherry catsup" itself, we see ever more clearly that
the term is being used as a catchall for any kind of sauce
the author fancies. This would be far better suited to use
on waffles, for instance, than on a hot dog.
WHORTLEBERRY CATSUP (Haskell)
1 gallon whortleberries
2 qts. water
1 tsp. mace
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. white mustard (seed, presumably whole)
1 tsp. ginger
1 tsp. pepper (presumably black, presumably whole)
1/2 lb. sugar
1 tsp. citric acid
Vinegar or wine, as needed for thinning
Add to every gallon of fruit two quarts of boiling water;
let it stand all night; in the morning draw off the juice;
pass the pulp through a sieve; add to each gallon of the
liquor [juice] a teaspoonful of each of the following
spices: mace, cinnamon, white mustard, ginger, pepper; boil
one hour gently; strain off the liquor; add to every quart
half a pound of sugar; stir in the pulp, and boil it in the
spiced juice; dissolve a teaspoon of the citric acid in a
little of the juice reserved for the purpose; add it to the
catsup, and if too thick thin with vinegar or wine.
The only unusual item in this recipe is the citric acid
called for. This, we are told by the invaluable Wikipedia,
"was first isolated in 1784 by the Swedish chemist Carl
Wilhelm Scheele, who crystallized it from lemon juice.
Industrial-scale citric acid production began in 1860, based
on the Italian citrus fruit industry." The things you learn
while making catsup! The product is as readily available
today, probably in the aisle near the canning and pickling
supplies.
Oh, you say, you were wondering more what the h*ll a
"whortleberry" is? It's a little bitty blueberry. They grow
mostly in the northeast, so if you aren't there or in any
case don't have a patch growing in some accessible area, use
regular blueberries instead. We won't tell.
LEMON CATCHUP (OR PICKLE) (Bryan)
2 oz grated horseradish
2 oz. mustard seed
1/2 oz nutmeg, cracked or ground
1/2 oz. mace
1/2 oz black pepper
1/4 oz cayenne pepper
1/4 oz. cloves.
12 lemons, sliced and seeds removed
2-4 tbs. salt ("a large handful")
3 pints strong vinegar
Mix together two ounces of grated horseradish, two of
mustard seed, half an ounce of nutmegs, half an ounce of
mace, half an ounce of black pepper, a quarter of an ounce
of cayenne pepper, and a quarter of an ounce of cloves. Beat
them very fine in a mortar, and put it in a stew-pan with
one dozen lemons, which have been sliced and divested of the
seeds, a large handful of salt, and three pints of good
vinegar. Cover the pan, and boil it for fifteen or twenty
minutes; then put it in a jar, cover it, and let it stand
for four weeks, stirring it up occasionally; after which
strain it, put it in small bottles, and cork them tight. A
very little of this catchup (or pickle as it is sometimes
called,) gives quite an agreeable flavor to fish and other
sauces.
Standard vinegar of the 19th century was assumed to be of 10
percent acidity, but terms like "strong" or "good" vinegar
are not really defined. Most people outside of cities kept a
barrel of vinegar which was replenished with spoiled or
leftover wine, cider or other liquids (a description of the
process, at least as it was known in 1881, can be found
here) so they were probably not all that finicky about it
either.
One way to make stronger vinegar out of the wimpy commercial
varieties today is to put it in a bowl and the bowl in the
freezer for a time. The layer which freezes on top should be
all water with the vinegary part (acetic acid) accumulating
underneath. Remove and throw away the ice layer and the
process repeated until the total mass has reduced by half.
But again we digress from our topic.
Finally, as promised, we get to the kicker: Booze Catsup!
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