After a meal and a performance that will take some time to digest (metaphorically) here we are waiting for the start of the Sunday sessions. Lots to look forward to, and a gem while we do so: Janet Clarkson’s blog The Old Foodie. A lot of people here are keeping wonderful web sites; next year I hope the organisers will gather these together. Or maybe an independent personage should do so …
Ray Sokolow exlains that a mystery man, possessed of a mysterious fortune derived from a mysterious TV show that he devised, has endowed a bursary to allow a student to research a topic and travel to the OSFC. And this is the first Cherwell Studentship. Goes to Allyson Sgro a chemist who develops microtools for neuroscience. A nanotechnologist, no less.
The Origins of Cockaleekie Soup
The simplest cockaleekie soup is chicken soup, no leeks, with prunes in the broth; you can leave ’em in or take them out, according to taste. No mention of vegetables in Scottish history prior to 1600s. From then to 1700, a gradual switch from meat to dairy and oats. But there are a lot of reports of gardens, including vegetable gardens, around this time. “The diet is devoid of vegetables,” until the 1670s, 1680s. Seems to be that the Scots are growing lots of vegetables, but they aren’t in recipes or lists of dishes. But they must be there in the diet. “They’re eating them, but they’re not celebrating them.”
Scotland seems to maintain a medieval mindset towards dishes long after the sweet and savoury combinations have been abandoned in France and England. Not until early 18th century does Scotland “modernize”. 1737 marks the first recognizably modern recipe for cockaleekie soup.
“Who put the leeks in cockaleekie soup? It was the Scots. They finally decided they really liked vegetables and they should start celebrating them a bit.”
Budding young food historians in search of financial sustenance: go to the OSFC web site and follow the instructions.