The Gilded Age Christmas Cookbook, Reviewed

 

The Gilded Age Christmas Cookbook by Becky Libourel Diamond is a delightful fusion of culinary arts and historical storytelling that brings the opulent holiday traditions of the 19th century into modern kitchens. This enchanting book revives forgotten confections like sugar plums (no they are not sugar-dusted plums), alongside beloved classics, all adapted for today’s ingredients and appliances. Each recipe is paired with a vivid glimpse into the Gilded Age, offering fascinating histories of the treats, their ingredients, and baking methods. Sidebars sprinkled throughout share captivating Christmas lore, making this cookbook a treasure trove for anyone who loves food, history, and the festive season.

 

The book’s strength lies in its approachable recipes and rich historical context, making it accessible to bakers of all skill levels. From spiced nuts to molasses cookies and mince pies, the recipes are simple yet evocative, perfect for holiday gatherings or cookie exchanges. Standout anecdotes, like the history of Santa Claus as we know him today or Mark Twain’s family holiday traditions, add depth and charm. The inclusion of practical tips, such as mastering egg whites, ensures that even novice bakers can confidently recreate these nostalgic treats, blending the past with the present in every bite. 

 

Visually, the cookbook is a feast for the eyes, with stunning photographs that capture the festive spirit of the Gilded Age. However, one drawback is the lack of images for every recipe, which can be frustrating for visual learners or those unfamiliar with historical baked goods. For a book celebrating such unique confections, pictures of the finished dishes would have enhanced the experience, providing a clearer sense of what to aim for, especially for less familiar recipes like sugar plums or mince pies. 

 

Overall, The Gilded Age Christmas Cookbook is a beautifully crafted love letter to Christmas traditions, blending culinary inspiration with historical charm. It’s an ideal gift for bakers, history buffs, or anyone eager to infuse their holiday season with a touch of Gilded Age magic. Whether you’re a Pennsylvanian reminiscing over molasses cookies or a curious cook in Scotland trying mince pies for the first time, this book will inspire new family favorites and become a cherished holiday companion, revisited year after year.

You can order a copy here.

 I received a complimentary copy from the author and Globe Pequot Publisher in exchange for an honest review.

As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

Anzac Biscuits

I'd wish you a Happy ANZAC Day, but the truth of it is, it was last week; I forgot. 

It's not unusual that I would forget because a) I am mighty busy, and b) I'm not from Australia or New Zealand where this holiday is celebrated. But I feel that any holiday that has its own cookie is aces in my book. 

For the uninformed, ANZAC stands for “Australia and New Zealand Army Corps.”  The holiday is celebrated on April 25th, and while it currently honors all Australians and New Zealanders who served and died in all wars, originally it served to commemorate the troops who fought at Gallipoli in the Ottoman Empire during WWI. 

These cookies (biscuits) are so named because, supposedly, they were sent by wives to soldiers abroad because the ingredients do not spoil easily and the biscuits traveled well. This is a Martha Stewart recipe, although it looks pretty much like every other recipe for Anzac Biscuits that I found.

These biscuits are insanely easy to make, require no special equipment, and can be stirred together in a single bowl. They are crisp on the outside, chewy on the inside, and addictingly delicious.

Anzac Biscuits

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 cups rolled oats

2 cups sugar

1 cup desiccated coconut*

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter

2 tablespoons Lyle's Golden Syrup

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 cup boiling water

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper, and set aside. In a large bowl, combine flour, oats, sugar, and coconut. Set aside.

In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt butter with syrup. Dissolve baking soda in boiling water, and add to butter mixture. Stir to combine. (Be careful; if the butter is hot, it will bubble up considerably.)

Add butter mixture to dry ingredients, and stir to combine. Using a 1 1/2-inch cookie scoop, drop onto prepared baking sheets, about 2 inches apart (be sure to pack the scoop tightly so the mixture doesn't crumble). Flatten cookies slightly with the heel of your hand.

Bake until golden brown and firm but not hard, about 15 minutes. Transfer to wire racks to cool.

*I did not have desiccated coconut, so just used Baker's.  It worked perfectly.

This post is linked to:

Wow Us Wednesday
Work It Wednesday

Create It or Bake It

Full Plate Thursday

Be Inspired Friday

Foodie Friday

Show and Tell Friday 

Seasonal Sundays

Scenic Salisbury Steak - Route 66 Postcard Recipe

I love food and I love to travel, so it's only natural that as a seasoned veteran I've learned to travel light going, and not weigh myself down with souvenirs returning; such items that will only end up stored away and forgotten over the course of time.  So, collecting recipe postcards satisfies my curiosity about local cuisines, provides me with an excellent remembrance of my trip, and a way to recreate the tastier part of it to share with friends once I get home.

Click on this recipe to enlarge it and make it readable.  The only change I made was to add a packet of dry onion soup mix to the sauce in order to give it a more complex, richer flavor.

Today's dinner came from a Route 66 postcard from a collection that I acquired locally at the Missouri History Museum.  I've made this any number of times and each time we've throughly enjoyed this tasty meal of comfort food, and a bit of local history.

Served on an Inca Restaurantware (something else I collect) grill plate to be extra authentic.

I have a bit of a funny story about this recipe.  When I was recovering from an illness, my husband offered to make dinner.  Now he is an excellent chef, so something simple like this would normally pose no problem.  But, he is also a scholar and professor emeritus, who is constantly involved in one project or other and, well to be blunt, is the typical absent-minded professor.  When it came time to serve the meal he put before me the biggest piece of Salisbury steak I'd ever seen. I looked at him and said, "Oh, you made meat loaf!  I can't eat a whole meatloaf." He denied this and said it was the Salisbury steak recipe that I'd given him. Ummm, no, I'd made it before and it never looked anything like this rather challenging mound of meat.

I looked in the baking dish and asked where the other patties were.  "Others?" he asked.  "There were no others, the recipe said to 'form in 2 patties'."

I stared at him, mouth agape.  "No," I said, in my most diplomatic voice.  "You would not turn one and a half pounds of ground beef into two patties.  No."

He continued to insist, so I pulled out the recipe and as I read it a smile crossed my face.  The recipe read "form into patties."  INTO not TWO.  But knowing my dear husband as I do I'm sure he was involved in a number things at the time he read the recipe, his thoughts elsewhere.  And as he was working, repeated to himself "form into patties...form into pattie...form in two patties" and that's how he ended up with Salisbury meat loaves instead of Salisbury steak.

We laugh about this to this day.  As it turned out, the meatloaf thing wasn't half bad.  We froze one and split the other and both meals were equally delicious.

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