Custard – A History Vol. 1

by Tim Williams – A&SB Contributor

From time to time, we like to take a step back from the relentless chase of the new and pause to whip up some sweet nostalgia. Sit back and take in the rise and fall of Custard, that old standard close to our hearts and lips.

1314: Poding Withe The Yolke Ine

This debut was, at first, treated with all the fanfare an experimental food in the Dark Ages could expect.

The monks said: Is thys somme kinde of yolke? The Lord ne liken yow laffen at his yolkes.

The peasants said: We canne stille putte sausige in it, righte?

But our versatile, even gelatinous, hero proved to be more than a well-produced recipe, as happy in front of the fatted king as the tavern dweller.  The jaundiced confection, in fact, never joked and could pack away even the more questionable of folk meats with ease, and by all accounts filled the halls with sighs of content.

Was this the golden age of Custard (in these days “Crustade,” in an ill-advised attempt to appeal to burgeoning evangelical tart-making set)? It’s hard to say what the dish tasted actually tasted like before mass reproduction, but it’s probably safe to say you can skip this one. Here’s a typical recipe:

A Custarde the coffyn must be fyrste hardened in the oven, and then take a quart seven of creame and fyve or moor yolkes of egges, and beate them well together, and put them into the creame, and yf yow cooken on a Tuesday put in Suger and small Raysyns and Dates sliced, and then put them into the creame, put into the coffyn butter or els marrowe, but on the fyshe daies put in butter. And then yow putte the creame in.

On the plus side, I don’t think there’s any lard in it.

1753: The Swedish Invasion
“You eat, in dreams, the custard of the day.”—Alexander Pope

As it is an undisputed truth that the Puritans were no fun and invented the diet, putting eggs and sugar in one’s pudding was from the beginning in the New World a symbol of European indulgence.

With the chicken feather coat craze came soaring prices for eggs, so the health- and thrift-conscious invented powdered food. Sprinkled on top, custard powder could turn any meal into a wobbling monstrosity, without the need for God’s great white ovular mystery.

These were bad times for the dairy industry. Luckily, this was the year of a great turning point in the Western world. On March 1, Sweden underwent spontaneous evolution and adopted the Gregorian calendar.

Suddenly, Sweden was sweeping the world again, conquering now with disaffection and finely-woven sweaters. But mostly, sweet, sweet rice pudding.

I’ll end this installment with a traditional rice pudding recipe:

Beat half a pound of rice to powder. Set it with three pints of new milk upon the fire, let it boil well, and when it grows almost cold, put to it eight eggs well beaten, and half a pound of suet or butter, half a pound of sugar, and a sufficient quantity of cinnamon, nutmeg, and mace. Half an hour will bake it.

I’ll admit I’m partial to this side project, but that could be the Swede in me talking. You’ll just have to try it yourself. Unless you’re out of mace.