In Which Many Pickled Limes Are Eaten

It stands to reason that if you bring a jar of pickled limes made as faithfully to Little Women's pickled limes as possible, your fellow Alcott scholars can be cajoled into taste testing them.

And so they were! Thanks friends.

In fact, both the sweet and sugar-free versions were such a hit I went home with motivation to make them again! So it's likely these will pop up in my future. But for now, let's review how this batch was made.

As with my first experiment, the limes were washed and then jarred with salt water using a 1tbs:2c salt:water ratio. They stayed in the salt water for 1 week, then were boiled twice in plain unsalted water. Changing out the water and repeating the process helps draw salt from the limes - it can be done many times, but I stopped at the second because I'm impatient.

The limes went from bright green-yellow to a dull yellow-brown after 6 days in the brine. This color change is actually very similar to the first batch, which I thought was interesting! (Also, I'll be pulling in screenshots from my Instagram story on lime pickling for this, because I apparently forgot to save any of the process photos I was taking. Oops.)

After boiling, the limes were divided in half and put into their jars while I got the vinegar mixtures ready. For the unsweetened mix, I used the same recipe as my first experiment, which comes from The Boston Cooking-School Magazine vol. 17 (1912): 

Make a brine strong enough to float an egg and in quantity to cover a dozen limes. Let stand six days stirring the brine each day. Drain and set to boil in two quarts of boiling water. Let boil fifteen minutes. Let drain and become cold. Scald one quart of vinegar half an ounce of cloves half an ounce of mace half an ounce of ginger root half an ounce of horse radish and one ounce o f white mustard seed and pour over the limes disposed in fruit jars. Close securely. These are best after keeping some months.

This recipe is half a century later than our target decade, but aligns pretty closely to the spices described in plum pickle and lemon pickle recipes I have from 1869. So I think it's a decent guess at what might have been used. I also ended up throwing in a couple of cardamom pods because I had them, and I like cardamom. But that was a personal addition!

The second batch was the sweet pickled lime recipe I found in another volume of the same Boston Cooking-School Magazine (vol 16, also 1912). While period descriptions of pickled limes eaten in Boston explicitly say they are not sweet, I also have tariff records from 1824 listing "limes preserved in sugar" as an import. In fact, there's a number of sources referencing limes preserved in sugar or syrup throughout the 19th century. So while these aren't the limes Amy March was sucking on, I think it's possible she could have encountered them (maybe when on tour with Aunt March in Europe)...and I wanted to try them. 

The recipe is much plainer than the spiced vinegar brine:

[After boiling saltwater limes] Make a thick syrup of sugar and water using a half cup of vinegar to a quart of water. Cook the syrup until it is as thick as molasses, let it get cold. Prick each lime two or three times with a silver fork. When they and the syrup are cold put them together and let them stand over night. The syrup will then be thinned by the juice of the limes. If it is too watery boil it over again. Put the limes in jars and pour the cold syrup over them. They will keep indefinitely if nobody knows they are in the store closet.

I ended up using the leftover spiced vinegar from the unsweetened limes, but otherwise followed this exactly. When I make them again, I'll use less liquid though. The syrup took forever to thicken (there was a lot of water to boil out!) and I didn't have that many limes to cover. And as the instructions mention, I did have to re-boil a couple of days later after the juice loosened the syrup.

It was hard to capture in photos, but you could actually see shimmery swirls of lime juice/lime oil floating in the syrup as the limes released into the sugar. After canning, both jars sat in a dark cupboard for about 6 weeks before we cracked them open for tasting.

In the end, the limes made all the difference. Both of these versions were delicious! The unsweetened limes I think are best described as zesty, which I'd mostly attribute to the ginger and peppercorns in the brine. The cider vinegar zing was pretty mild, and the acid from the limes was also mellow. There was still a little bit of lime or citrus flavor, but it definitely didn't taste like a normal raw lime. The syrup limes were sweet (obviously), but had a more pronounced acid bite at the end which I think provided some balance and prevented the sugar from punching you in the teeth.

As long-time readers of this blog will know, I love historical foods. The more weird and surprising, the better. So I was always going to be excited about pickled limes. For me, the true triumph was the exclamations of "oh! this is actually pretty good!" from the most doubtful observers in the group.

Jamie, pickled lime doubter, taste testing on mic for Let Genius Burn

So on that note, we close the book on pickled limes (for now). If anyone else makes their own, please let me know how they turn out! Cheers to delightful, surprising, and memorable historical food experiments.

The Buccaneers Take Bath

At the beginning of May I found myself drinking Prosecco at 1 in the morning with a very dear friend, debating dance history technicalities over onion tarts. We had just attended the Bath Victorian Ball, and we were savoring the moment. Given that she lives across the ocean from me now, our chances to dance together are few...it was such a treat to get to see her!

Whenever I am lucky enough to attend a historic dance event abroad, I am reminded of Wharton's unfinished novel (and the 1990s mini-series) The Buccaneers. I am usually in a pod of friends--also all American ladies--and while we are quite well trained in the dancing, we never quite fit in with the unique historic dance culture of the place we're visiting. We change partners too frequently, we swap spots in the set between dances, we don't know the "customs of the country" (as Wharton would put it).

But if I do say so myself, we clean up rather well.

At events like this I always feel a bit like Nan and company, shipped off to England to make matches in old society (well, without the pressure to marry a Duke, that is). And I think that pushed The Buccaneers to the front of my mind when I started working on an early bustle period dress for this event (to match Emma's fabulous Huffle-bustle!). The result is a fussy, ruffly, ribbony, shimmery thing, which I promise to discuss in detail soon.

But first, I wanted to share my favorite pictures of the evening: our Buccaneers moment gossiping by a fireplace in the Assembly Rooms. Now all we need is a proposal and a scandal! (Just kidding, we managed to have a lovely evening without either.)

And of course, butt bow posing commenced!

It was an incredible evening, and I had so much fun dancing in the AMAZING Bath Assembly Rooms! What elegant surroundings! Even if I am ever a fish out of water, it's practically worth the flight for the chandeliers alone. 

THAT CEILING THOUGH.

As always, my favorite part of the evening was getting to dance with friends old and new. It is social dancing, after all! A particularly brilliant moment was Mr. Hart's Lancers, as Emma and I spent a week last summer studying Lancers quadrilles in Denmark. It was awesome to stretch the brain muscles, and to so immediately slide back into being a well-oiled machine. I suppose quadrilles are growing on me after all ;)

I think this was the moment we realized the arrangement for the dance was selections from The Mikado, which we both know well!

such satisfying swoop!

I have to admit, in the States we do our balls on modern time, and attending a more "realistic" ball (with a supper break at almost 10pm) was exhausting! Flopping after the ball was all the more satisfying for it.

Cheers to friendship, dancing, bustles, and intrigue!

Put Some Birds On It

This past weekend was Fezziwig's Ball, our annual holiday tradition in which we summon the ghosts of Christmas past for carols, dancing, and a whole lot of refreshments. It's a fun opportunity for me to wear a period I wouldn't otherwise get to explore, because it's our only ball of the year with a date range instead of a specific period ("the life of Charles Dickens," so 1812-1872). Last year I made my first 1830s dress, and I wore it again this year with a couple of improvements--last-minute hand finishing I didn't have time for the first time around.

I also changed my hair this year, because I am totally in love with 1830s hair and I wanted to try something different. So naturally, I hit the craft store holiday bargain bin for bits, and ended up with...birds!

I used wired burlap ribbon in black (closest to my dark brown hair) to make a sort-of upside-down T shape, with the short bits of the T loops that would be easy to get bobby pins through (the weave of the burlap ribbon in general was also good for stabbing through). Then I went to town with the hot glue gun, and created a little holly bush for my head. I took inspiration from styles like this, which mix ridiculous decoration (snakes?!) and vertical sweeps of hair:

hairstyles, 1830 (LA Public Library)

more 1830 styles (also LAPL)

fashionable headdresses, 1830 (Wellcome Library)

new fashions for 1830(?-hard to make out the date) (Oldprint)

  I made a bunch of different bits, and then figured it out as I went. I used a rat to shape a vertical-ish on one side, and then added my holly tower on the other. I finished with birds, because birds are the best part! (No, there were no birds in my fashion plates. But there were snakes, so...artistic license.)

I was in good company! We were a well-coiffed 1830s gang. 

I hope your holiday festivities are joyous!

Denmark Dance Week

The thing is, I should have taken August off. In July I moved, took a summer class, made a dress, and performed, and just generally was awfully busy. But then I didn't take August off--I got on a plane to Denmark, wore the dress, danced my feet off, took a business trip, went to a convention, and finally started to unpack. All of this to say that when my fall semester classes started, I kind of crashed. I had my heart set on a new dress for a ball next week...and I haven't started it. Life happens. Stay tuned, and I'll start that dress eventually!

But in the meantime, I am a bad blogger and I'd truly meant to tell you more about the dance week I attended. I don't have a ton of pictures, because it was mostly modern clothes!

accidental color coordination for a sight-seeing outing

In fact, mostly it wasn't even cute modern clothes! I spent the majority of the week in leggings and batman shirts (just because I happen to own a lot of athleticwear with the bat symbol...I like to be batgirl when I work out), and that was great. Because the dancing was hard--I had to think a lot, and move a lot, and it was glorious.

getting ready for class

a small selection of notes

 I said (a much-needed) goodbye to my practice shoes at the end of the week :(

The week itself is run at a Danish folk high school, a boarding arts school built in the early 20th century. When it was built, it had the largest gymnasium in Scandanavia--perfect for dancing! Staying in the school was a nice chance to really get to know some of the other participants, as we danced together, ate together, sang together, and then all trudged up to bed.

the closet of our room, full of ballgowns!

 The dancing for the week was all based on the theme of "The Lancers," a quadrille that appears first in the 1810s and stays (in various forms) popular through the 19th century. In fact, a version of it is still danced as a folk dance in Denmark today! Each teacher focused on a couple of dances throughout the week, all of which tied back to the Lancers in some form. The teachers also each took a turn leading morning meeting: lectures on their dance research and the evolution of the dances we were learning. It was a great opportunity to think about dance history, how dances evolve over time, and to study through movement. We also had live music during the classes, in the evening, and for the balls. Quite a luxury, and so nice! The musicians made classes a lot more lively, especially towards the end of the week when we were all feeling a bit worn out.

candle light in the dining room after our "half way ball" on Wednesday night

Between all the dancing were a couple of sight-seeing trips, a lot of ice cream (I love trying ice cream in every place I visit! and Denmark puts marshmallow sauce and jam on theirs--yum!!), a lot of tea, and new friends...and then, of course, the final ball.

marzipan ice cream covered in marshmallow and jam on our afternoon off

The ball was held in Christiansfeld at the Brødremenihedens Hotel, a historic building that has been in the town since about its founding (1773). Over the centuries the royal family has stayed there when visiting Christiansfeld, and it was the site where the Danish and Prussian colonels signed the cease-fire agreement ending the Second German War in 1864.

the Brødremenihedens Hotel

Before we danced, we ate (this was somewhat a theme of the week). Dinner was held in the hotel dining room, which was elegant and lit with real candles. Apparently Denmark is known for its national love of candlelight, and this was a really cool thing to experience. It definitely changes the atmosphere!

examining our dance cards after dinner

my dance card from the outside...

...and the inside!

Honestly, I didn't dance very well at the ball because by the time we got there I was tired and hot and my brain was melting out my ears from all of the hard thinking I did during the week. But it was still a lot of fun, and I learned SO MUCH. I'm so glad I was able to attend! So I'll leave you with some of my favorite pictures, captured during a break from dancing.

Here's to picking back up and starting some actual sewing again soon!