Kitchen Connections

One of the things I love about archival research is how many senses it activates. The obvious visual delights, tactile sensations, hints of grass and vanilla wafting from the boxes, and the reading room rustle of papers, chairs, and keyboards. Noticeably and rightfully absent is our fifth sense, taste. Archival research has no flavor*, but food is constantly on the minds of many researchers. What were their research subjects eating? What did it taste like? What did their homes smell like while it was cooking? How and where did they source ingredients? These questions are key to understanding the lives and experiences of those we study. 

These questions were on my mind as a browsed the Doty and Young family papers a few weeks ago. Among the materials was a small bank book, with twenty handwritten recipes and five clipped print recipes. The book is undated, but was assigned circa 1900, which I agree with. It’s unclear who wrote the book, but a good guess would be Jane Woods Willet (1853-1935), wife of banker Charles T. Young (1843-1911). 

In 1900, the Young family was living at 866 President Street with their three children. The recipes lean sweet, with cakes, puddings, and jellies, perfect for a household with kids. The other materials in the collection (receipts, account books, invitations) tell us about the family’s business dealings and social lives, but I was interested in the private life of this small family living in Park Slope at the turn of the century. This recipe book offered me the chance to create a tangible link to their kitchen on President Street, 124 years ago. I decided to select four recipes from the book to cook at home. 

The Center for Brooklyn History has several talented bakers on staff. I am not one of them. I can fumble my way through a batch of cookies, but it ends there. My selected recipes offered challenges, such as no cooking time or temperature, imprecise measurements, and ingredients I’ve never worked with, but with one trip to the grocery store and the purchase of a teacup I was ready to try.  

Recipe #1: Banana Fritters 

This recipe called for sweet milk, which required a bit of research. According to Taste of Home, sweet milk refers to whole milk, which was easily found at the grocery store. However, the recipe didn’t say how much or when to add it. I cut the bananas, added the dry ingredients and eggs, and stirred. I added the milk last, eyeballing about a ½ cup. I substituted lard for Crisco, a vegetable shortening. Dividing the batter into eight sections, I fried and topped them with powdered sugar.  

Despite the powdered sugar, the fritters were very bland. Why didn’t the batter call for additional sweeteners? One glaring difference between the fritters I made in 2024 and the fritters made by Jane in 1900 is the type of banana available to us. The Gros Michel banana arrived in the United States in the 1880s, and remained the dominant variety until the 1950s, when it was replaced by the Cavendish variety, which we find on the shelves today. The Gros Michel was sweeter, creamier, and held up better when heated. In Jane’s recipe, the banana was likely doing the work of an additional sweetener.  

Recipe #2: New Year’s Cake 

In addition to the grocery store, I also stopped by the thrift store to pick up a teacup. To the person who bought a tea set from Housing Works that was missing a cup, I’m sorry! The batter came together quickly but looked like cookie dough. Confused, I spooned it into a pan and pressed it down. This recipe included no cooking temperature or cooking time. 350 degrees seems to be the default for most baking, so that’s what I used. I checked the pan every 10 minutes until it seemed done, which gave me 50 minutes of cooking time. My apartment smelled wonderful! I added some additional caraway seeds on the top for flair and let it cool. 

The cake was a bit bland, and the texture was dense. However, I could see someone with more skill and experience turning this into something special. My husband’s review was “weird flavor,” but this is the only recipe he went back to for seconds.  
 

Recipe #3: Wine Jelly 

Unfortunately, Cox’s gelatine is no longer produced, so it was unclear what 1/3 box of Cox’s gelatine would look like. This recipe pamphlet produced by Cox includes a similar wine jelly recipe, which calls for two packets instead of 1/3 box. I used two packets of Knox gelatin for my jelly. Knox didn’t call for an hour of soaking, so I dissolved the gelatin and sugar in 2 cups of boiling water. I added lemon juice, 2 cups sherry, and poured it into the mold. I thought the sherry would be red, another confusing twist! Luckily, my kitchen has a refrigerator so there was no need to put it on ice. I let the jelly chill overnight. 

This recipe was universally hated by all who sampled it, including me. I cut the jelly into cubes, sampled it like a Jell-o shot, and spread it on bread like a traditional jelly. The sherry overpowered the sugar and lemon, which could be my fault, as “½ a tumbler” was estimated by me to be about 2 cups. This was a fun experiment, but we’ll leave this recipe in 1900.  

Recipe #4: Corn Oysters

Corn oysters are savory fritters and the only recipe on this list still popular in the United States. I’m writing this in June, when fresh corn isn’t available in stores, so I substituted fresh for frozen, estimating the number of kernels found on three ears. I also substituted the lard for Crisco. I was excited to finally try a recipe with some seasoning. A pinch of salt! A dash of pepper! I was unsure how much to add, but a pinch and dash came naturally and into the pan they went.  

Reviews for this one came in at “fine.” It could be that I under dashed the seasonings, because these were also bland. The following day I reheated them in a pan and added hot sauce which improved them. With some adjustments this is the only recipe I would make again.  

Final Thoughts 

Cooking, smelling, and tasting recipes handwritten over a century ago just a few blocks from my home was a refreshing way to connect with the people represented in the Doty and Young family papers. Archival collections have a way of flattening the people they represent, reducing lifetimes to a few items and an objective biography. This baking experiment gave me a few hours to imagine the Young family in a way that archival description doesn’t allow. A Park Slope kitchen, writing a recipe that skips cooking instructions because she knows them by heart, letting the kids sift the powdered sugar, trying a recipe that doesn’t quite work. Idle speculation playing on a loop as I worked, which made the experience very rewarding, although my taste buds may disagree.  

*In preparation for this blog post I asked the Center for Brooklyn History collections team what they think archival research would taste like. Here are their responses: