COOKING RECIPES

In an attic, at twenty years old, one could make remarkable discoveries. In old boxes with worm-eaten wood or in ancient trunks covered with skin, fantastic treasures were unearthed. Old lace from a flirtatious grandmother, parchments decorated with voluminous seals, books with fawn bindings, envelopes still bearing stamps from yesteryear, letters in faded ink, in a package sealed with a faded favor, old handwritten collection of songs and refrains, the kitchen notebook of an economical but greedy housewife, almanacs full of recipes and predictions.....
Today, young people can no longer satisfy the curiosity of their twenties with similar discoveries. We emptied the old attics, we put the attics in order, which means that all the motley collection of conservative generations has been dispersed and the era of discoveries is over.
During the war, all the brochures, almanacs and collections that were not immediately needed were sold to the old paper dealer so that he could crush them.
In the past, every household was full of secrets. This was at a time when chemistry, pharmacy and herbalism had not made so much progress. Every family knew the effective ways of removing stains, of starching a white vest, of embossing a cap with fine lace, of making chickens lay eggs; we knew how to make remarkable infusions for many ailments, we cured pain by simple methods, we harvested herbs, leaves or flowers; in short, the people of small towns and villages knew a thousand things that we no longer know, that we sometimes even irreverently consider childish and all, they made up for the difficulty of always having everything on hand with a lot of foresight, initiative and economy.

The Haslemere Education Museum has just been given a curious little handwritten book found in an attic which was written two hundred and fifty years ago by a woman from the County of Surrey, “Sarah Loveland”. The good Sarah Loveland in the year of our Lord 1663, possessed many secrets. that she wanted to leave to her children and grandchildren; this is why she wrote her collection with great care. Alongside recipes from which we could still benefit, there are others which seem strange and singular to us. This, for example:
"To sharpen your verve, your spirit and your memory" take langdebeef around June or July (it is curious to note that in 1663, it was said in
England langdebeef for beef tongue) macerate it and drink the juice mixed with hot water. You will find yourself well off.
I have doubts about the following recipe, which interests bald people. Sarah Loveland assures us that baldness can be effectively combated: “Take wood from the South, burn it to obtain a perfect ash, mix this ash with common oil, rub the scalp morning and evening. Approved." “Approved” means that the recipe has proven itself. If you feel like it, try it; but for my part, I find this designation of the wood which must be “southern” a little vague.
At the time when Sarah Loveland lived, England was often ravaged by the plague. We saw relatives, friends, neighbors die, without being able to help them. Everyone sought to protect themselves against contagion, thanks to recipes that were shared like wonders. All were effective in theory. When the sad opportunity came to try it, many were powerless to ward off the dreaded evil.
Sarah Loveland gives several recipes to protect against the plague, mumps, measles and other epidemics. One of these recipes involved macerating thirty-seven different plants in white wine. Three spoonfuls of the beverage thus obtained were to “relieve any discomfort or mood causing oppression of the heart or stomach”.
Lots of recipes for anemia and tuberculosis. They relate to beverages, herbal teas or syrups and pills. One of them consists of “a quart of fresh milk, a pint of rose water and a pint of cleaned and washed garden snails. It is necessary to boil until the liquid is reduced to a pint, it is sweetened, it must then be drunk three times a day, at sunrise, at four o'clock in the afternoon and at bedtime, each time four spoonfuls hot like the milk coming out of the cow's udder.
As a postscript to this curious recipe, Sarah Loveland added: “This mixture completely restored a woman aged fifty, when she was so weak that she had to be fed with a feather. »
Some mixtures are terrible. One of them which is "best for combating dazzling and fainting" consists of taking twelve live swallows and crushing them in a mortar. After numerous mixings and skilful distillation, we obtain a sovereign liquid.
But the majority of Sarah Loveland's manuscript collection is devoted to cooking recipes. Sarah is greedy. As soon as a neighbor tells her about a new dish, she asks for the formula so that she can reproduce it in her book; if, at a relative's house, she tastes a cake she likes, she insists on knowing the secret of how it is made...
Sarah Loveland still has imitators today, I hear that there are gourmet housewives who are looking to complete their cookbook. They go hunting for delicate and economical recipes. Read the letters exchanged between readers in certain women's newspapers. Alongside chatter and chatter about which book you like, which beach is your favorite, which movie actor is the most photogenic, there are culinary secrets. “Etoile d'Argent” delivers to “Nini d'Alsace” the secret of succulent croquettes and “Petit Bouton d'or” sends, without being asked, to “Minerve de Carpentras” the way to make a coffee cake. There are treasures. in these letters: as the readers live in almost all the provinces, it is frequently a revelation of local recipes. I know several housewives who, thanks to these letters, thanks to exchanges, managed to collect secrets. quasi-magical. Today, the collection of good woman's remedies no longer exists, the book of thoughts itself is very out of fashion, they are replaced by the Almanac, a manuscript of the hundred thousand best recipes. culinary treats gleaned from everywhere.
And in two hundred years from now, as with Sarah Loveland's manuscript, as with so many notebooks discovered in an ancient trunk covered with skin, an amateur will unearth Rose France's Almanac and, in an era of chemical concentrates and electric kitchen, he will publish, excitedly, the recipes written in pen and deciphered, with mouth watering.

PAUL-LOUIS HERVIER.