Another Down
September 7th, 2011
This morning I woke up early and finished whipping the edging onto my new petticoat. It’s now resting, neatly folded, next to my embroidered petticoat. Both are awaiting waistbands, which I can’t attach until I assemble my cage…
I am resisting the urge to embroider this one. I can’t help seeing where a pair of inserting patterns, between the tucks, would be a lovely addition. But the fabric is so lousy — hardly worth putting more time into it. And, truth be told, embroidery might be overkill with the heavy crochet work.
Now, on to my day!
Onion Tarts
September 6th, 2011
Last night, I made onion tarts, inspired by a 1911 recipe from Rufus Estes’s Good Things to Eat.
GLAZED ONIONS –Peel the onions and place in a saucepan with a little warmed butter, add sugar and salt to taste, pour over a little stock. Place over a moderate fire and cook slowly till quite tender and the outside brown. Remove and serve on a dish. A little of the liquor, thickened with flour, may be served as a sauce.
I chopped up a giant sweet vidalia onion, and tossed it into an heirloom cast-iron skillet, along with a chunk of melted butter, a couple teaspoons of sugar, and a dash of salt. I didn’t have any stock, so I just covered them with a little water.
Cooking over a “moderate” flame, it took a surprisingly long time for the onions to begin browning. But oh, when they did, what fragrance wafted through our garret! There wasn’t any liquor left over to make into sauce however. Perhaps I didn’t put in enough water/stock? But the onions themselves were definitely coated in a beautiful, sweet glaze.
I made a batch of tart shells to hold the onion filling (and a few extra for raspberry jam tarts) from a modern recipe. At the last minute, I tossed some grated Emmentaler into the bottom of the shell. The hot onions melted the cheese.
I forgot to take a picture of the finished tart until I’d already taken a bite. They were delicious. And the various bits kept well overnight too — I assembled another tart this evening and heated it in the oven for a few minutes. I’m in love.
Not Again!
September 5th, 2011
Is it me? Is it my corset? Is it fate? What am I doing wrong? After only three more wearings, my (relatively) new chemise has another tiny tear.
It’s still just a little teeny rip — too small even to patch. I think I’ll try darning it this time. I suppose I should be glad I caught it so early. I only noticed because I decided to iron the chemise after its recent washing.
Sigh.
Tuck In
September 4th, 2011
Today, while digitizing 78 rpm records for the Treasure Ivan Show, I finished hand-sewing the skirt for my latest petticoat. It is now sitting in my overflowing work-basket, neatly folded, awaiting its crocheted trimming. I have only 11 more repeats, then I’ll block the lace and whip it on.
It’s a fairly modest specimen, as petticoats go. A one-inch hem masquerading as a tuck, topped by two more graduated tucks. I considered an embroidered inserting between the tucks, but decided against it. I couldn’t find any precedent from the period to show that petticoats were ever decorated with BOTH crochet and embroidery. In fact, I couldn’t find any 1850s petticoats with crochet edging period. My only guess — since the pattern is most definitely 1850s, and specifically says that it is for petticoats — is that the majority of lace-trimmed petticoats were cannibalized.
Continuing my train of thought, it’s also interesting to note how quickly this edging has worked up. I started it a few weeks ago, and working sporadically, have nearly finished. Definitely much faster than broderie anglaise. And at least by modern standards, MUCH cheaper in terms of materials as well as effort and skill. Yet another argument for mating it with a fairly simple petticoat. Now the next crocheted edging I’ve got in mind is a different story…
Laundry Day
September 2nd, 2011
After three hot summer days of modeling in 19th century clothes, sweating profusely and getting drenched in a sudden thunderstorm, it was high time to wash my chemise and drawers.
If I was washing these in the 1850s, they’d be soaked in harsh soap, boiled, scrubbed and wrung out. Even so, I couldn’t bear to subject my embroidery to more than a gentle swish in a lukewarm bathtub. Then I wrung them out carefully — just squeezing the lace — and hung them to drip dry.
I was also reminded of this old English nursery rhyme, with its startlingly blunt conclusion:
« Newer Posts — Older Posts »They that wash on Monday
Have all the week to dry.They that wash on Tuesday
Are not so much awry.They that wash on Wednesday
Are not so much to blame.They that wash on Thursday
Wash for very shame.They that wash on Friday
Wash in dire need.They that wash on Saturday
Are lazy sluts indeed!