Mrs. Goodfellow Read online

  Mrs. Goodfellow

  THE STORY OF AMERICA'S FIRST COOKING SCHOOL

  BECKY LIBOUREL DIAMOND

  WESTHOLME

  Yardley

  Frontispiece: An illustration facing the title page of The Useful and the Beautiful: or, Domestic and Moral Duties Necessary to Social Happiness, 1850.

  ©2012 Becky Libourel Diamond

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Westholme Publishing, LLC

  904 Edgewood Road

  Yardley, Pennsylvania 19067

  Visit our Web site at www.westholmepublishing.com

  ISBN: 978-1-59416-548-1 (eBook)

  Produced in the United States of America.

  For Joe, Cate, and Patrick,

  with love and appreciation

  CONTENTS

  Preface

  ONE

  Who Was Mrs. Goodfellow?

  TWO

  Ingredients

  THREE

  Dining Out

  FOUR

  Mrs. Goodfellow's Cooking School

  FIVE

  Directions for Cookery

  SIX

  Lemon Meringue Pie

  SEVEN

  Modern Cooking Schools

  Epilogue: The End of the Day

  Recipes

  Notes

  Bibliography

  Index

  Acknowledgments

  Preface

  America's first cooking school instructor, and arguably the mother of American cookery, is considered by most food historians to be Mrs. Elizabeth Goodfellow. She and her culinary influence have been described as extraordinary by several experts, and her best-known creation—the lemon meringue pie—is considered an American classic. Yet, as these historians have also lamented, she is an elusive and neglected figure.1

  Mrs. Goodfellow appears to have been a savvy businesswoman, running her cooking school out of her Philadelphia pastry shop during the first half on the nineteenth century. For several decades in the early to mid-1800s, her luxurious confections and cookery classes were sought out by the most prominent families in and around Philadelphia. Her philosophy stipulated using only pure, wholesome ingredients—a concept she passed along to the numerous students who had the benefit of her training. Documented by these women in manuscript cookbooks, Mrs. Goodfellow's recipes and methods steadily trickled into mainstream cookery and were adapted by cooks around the country. This helped pave the way for cooking authorities ever since, from her own student Eliza Leslie to Fannie Farmer, Julia Child, and James Beard, right up to today's celebrity chefs.

  Although food historians often recognize the essential part Mrs. Goodfellow played, numerous details of her life and background have been lost or muddled over the years, causing her to be largely forgotten. I first read about her in a cooking magazine, where an article about modern-day recreational cooking schools stated that “cooking skills in the U.S. were first taught in an organized way around 1820 at Mrs. Goodfellow's Cooking School in Philadelphia.” Was this intriguing claim true? If so, how did cooking schools evolve from this model to what they are today?

  As I started researching the history of cooking schools, I discovered that while there may have been a handful of other small cooking schools in America before Mrs. Goodfellow's, it was her school that had the greatest impact on American food and cooking due to its longevity, impeccable reputation, and widespread acclaim. This fact was confirmed by food history experts such as William Woys Weaver, Jan Longone, and Janet Theophano, as well as by my own sifting through numerous historical texts, papers, and documents. In addition, the many Philadelphia area nineteenth-century manuscript cookbooks that contained Goodfellow recipes provide concrete evidence of her extensive influence. One from the Morris Family Papers collection at the Independence National Historical Park Library in Philadelphia was particularly exciting as it contained a direct quotation from Mrs. Goodfellow about making pastry, surely transcribed from one of her classes.

  Based on the many sources I have consulted, I have done my best guess at re-creating a day in the life of Mrs. Goodfellow, circa 1815. Beginning with her awakening at 4 A.M. to start baking, the following chapters take a peek inside her cooking school. They depict her daily routine and show how tightly she needed to schedule her day in order to fulfill her tasks as pastry cook and cooking school teacher, as well as reconstruct the experience of being a student in one of her classes.

  Mrs. Goodfellow was described by those who knew her as a no-nonsense, practical cook and teacher with a focus on using only the finest quality and freshest ingredients in her recipes. These same values align with present-day cooks' renewed interest in many concepts from the past such as artisan baking and using fresh, locally produced foods, making her achievements all the more relevant today.

  ONE

  Who Was Mrs. Goodfellow?

  Philadelphia, 64 Dock Street

  Wednesday, September 20, 1815

  4 A.M.

  It was still dark in her room when Eliza began to wake, and she took a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dusky dimness before slowly rising out of bed. Though it was only September, the air in her bedroom was cool and slightly damp, chilling her feet a bit when they touched the wooden floorboards. Lighting a small candle she kept by her bedside, she quickly dressed, putting on stays, stockings, shoes, petticoats, and finally her plain dark gray linen skirt and bodice. Draping a white neckerchief around her shoulders, she tucked it into the neckline of her bodice, and then pinned on her starched linen work apron and tied her hair up under her cap.

  So began the routine of an early nineteenth-century woman about to perform her usual daily tasks. Although many of these duties were common for that time in our nation's history, this woman, Elizabeth Goodfellow, was different in that she left a rather remarkable impression behind—one not known to many people.

  Ready to begin the day's baking, she carefully grasped the candle to light her way as she headed down the two flights of narrow stairs to the basement kitchen. She greeted her servant Mary, who was putting on her cloak to fetch several buckets of water from the outdoor water pump. The fire Mary had already lit in the large fireplace and its separate brick oven chamber was blazing nicely.

  While Mary went to retrieve the water, another servant, Hannah, opened the windows a bit and then busied herself with sweeping and dusting the kitchen, taking special care to thoroughly sweep any ashes off the hearth. She checked the scales that hung from a small beam affixed to the end of the kitchen dresser to make sure the chains were functioning properly and that all the weights were in their box, since they would soon be needed for weighing cooking ingredients. She then wiped the kitchen work table, dresser, chairs, cooling racks, and shelves with a soft cotton cloth.

  After making sure all the work surfaces were clean, she began to prepare the baking ingredients that would be needed later that day. First she took a hard molded cone of sugar from the small storage closet and pinched off some pieces with iron sugar nippers, a kitchen tool resembling a pair of pliers. She placed the sugar bits in a large mortar and pounded them with a pestle into a fine powder, which she scooped up into a wooden box and closed the lid. She also grated some fresh nutmeg and ground some blades of mace into a fine powder with a spice grinder and placed them in small bowls. Last, she retrieved some jars of dried basil and marjoram and mixed a little of each with some of the powdered mace, peppercorns, and salt and tied the mixture up with a piece of cheesecloth.

  Ma
ry returned from her last trip to the pump and carefully poured the water from the buckets into two heavy iron pots and hung them on the fireplace crane. When they were secure, she swung them around toward the fire so they would be ready for boiling and stewing later that morning. She then fetched a basket of artichokes from the larder. Pulling out a dozen, she stripped off the coarse outer leaves and cut off the stalks close to the bottom of each. After washing the artichokes thoroughly to remove any dirt and debris, she gently placed them in a basin of cold water to sit for a couple of hours.

  After saying good morning to Hannah and checking on her progress, Eliza headed over to the fireplace. The oven door was ajar, and she peeked in, pushing the burning wood farther back towards the center with a long stick, stirring it up a bit. She next walked over to the large table in the center of the room and began to assemble the ingredients she needed to begin making up a batch of puff pastry or “paste”: flour, butter, and cold water. She also got out her rolling pin, her large marble pasteboard, and a sharp knife.

  Scooping flour out of the huge barrel into a bowl, she walked over to the scales and carefully weighed one pound and two ounces and then sifted it through a sieve into a large deep dish. She placed about one quarter of the sifted flour on a corner of the pasteboard to use for rolling and sprinkling.

  Next she washed a pound of fresh butter, kneading it in cool water to release some of the salt. Squeezing it hard with her hands, she first shaped it into a round ball, and then divided it into four equal parts. She placed one lump in the dish with the flour, and the other three she positioned next to the pasteboard. Using a sharp knife, she cut the butter into very small pieces while mixing it with the flour in the dish. Once it was well mixed, she slowly added a little of the cold water, continuing to stir until it formed a lump. She then scattered some of the flour she had set aside on the middle of the pasteboard. Making sure she did not touch the dough with her hands (as the warmth would soften it too much), she carefully flipped the mound out of the pan with the knife, laying it on top of the board.

  As she had perfected over her many years of baking experience, she picked up the rolling pin, rubbed it with flour, and sprinkled a little on the lump of paste. With a deft hand, she rolled out the dough in quick, even strokes, pressing on the rolling pin very lightly. She then took another piece of butter, and dabbed bits at equal distances all over the sheet of paste with her knife. Sprinkling some more flour on top, she folded up the dough, and then rolled it out a second time, after again dusting the surface with flour.

  After it was rolled out, she did the same process all over again two more times: sticking butter all over it in little bits, coating surfaces with flour, folding up the paste, and rolling it out, always making sure she was pressing with a light touch. The final time she rolled the dough out into a large round sheet, and then cut off the sides to form a square, laying the strips of dough on top. She folded it up with the edge trimmings inside and, making little notches on the surface with the knife, she placed it in a covered dish and set it on a cool larder shelf away from the heat of the oven. This large batch of puff paste would serve as the base for an apple pudding, two lemon puddings, and several small square cheesecakes.

  After that was done she mixed the dough for an order of jumbles (ring-shaped butter cookies) and then walked over to a small bench near the fireplace where she had placed several tins of “Spanish Bunns” she had prepared the night before. She noticed the soft yeasty dough had risen nicely; its surface was foamy with light airy bubbles which puffed over the top edges.

  Since it was a market day, Mary would work on baking the jumbles and some delicate little “Queen cakes” after Eliza went to shop for some eggs and a few other supplies. These and the cheesecakes required a hot oven, so they would have to go in before the puddings, which baked best at a more moderate temperature. Eliza also had orders for a batch of kisses (meringue cookies) and some fine custards, but these needed to be made later in the day when the oven was cooler.

  Eliza's pastry shop was a specialized, high-end business. She was supplying fancy, sugary creations of all kinds—cakes, puddings, desserts, pastries, and so on—not the plain “sustenance” foods like pies or buckwheat cakes sold by some of her contemporaries. In addition to selling items in her shop, she also did a brisk catering business—taking orders and sending out food to private dinner parties.

  While Eliza was busy preparing the puff paste and other items, Mary had mixed up the cheesecake filling, which involved grating day-old sponge cake into some cottage cheese that she had made very smooth by pressing through a small strainer. She then creamed butter and sugar together with a paddle-shaped hickory spoon in a separate deep earthen dish, eventually adding some brandy and wine, and then a little grated nutmeg and rosewater. The two mixtures were then combined.

  Eliza retrieved the puff pastry from the larder, and unfolding a sheet, she rolled it out again, but with a firmer hand this time. She cut the pastry into rounds which she placed in the bottoms of small square tin patty pans, leaving half-circles of paste hanging over each side. She then gently stirred the rind and juice of one lemon into the cheesecake filling and spooned it into the pans on top of the pastry, scattering some currants on top. Last she cut long slits in the overhanging curves of pastry and flipped them over, laying them on the top of the cheesecakes. She then walked over to check on the oven.

  Black soot from the smoldering wood had already burned off. Mary had raked the coals over the bottom of the oven and, after letting them rest for a minute, she swept it out clean and wiped the inside surface with a damp rag tied to the end of a long stick in order to generate a moist heat. Eliza stuck her hand inside the oven and after holding it in there for about twenty seconds, determined it was the necessary temperature.

  Carrying the cheesecakes over from the table, she placed the pans in the oven, pushing them toward the back with her long-handled wooden peel (a shovel-like tool designed to safely move bread and pastries in and out of a bake oven). She asked Mary to check on them once or twice to make sure they were not burning on top, and to remove them when done. She then wiped her hands on her apron and carefully unpinned it so she could get ready to go to the market.

  As a pastry cook, Eliza had to arrange her schedule according to the heat of the oven. The huge brick oven burned hottest when first fired up, and then cooled off as the day went on. If she were baking bread, this would go in first; on the day just described it would be the puff paste items, then cakes and cookies, next puddings and buns, and last, custards and meringues. In planning her day, she also needed to make sure she filled any orders by the requested delivery time as well as had fresh baked goods to sell in her shop.

  For Eliza, however, there was an additional factor to consider—lesson preparation. Known more formally as Mrs. Elizabeth Goodfellow, she was also the instructor of what is considered by most food historians to be America's first cooking school, which she opened in Philadelphia in the early 1800s and continued to run for thirty years or more.

  Mrs. Elizabeth Goodfellow focused on teaching mostly upper-class young ladies how to make rich dishes and luscious desserts worthy of the fanciest dinner parties, making their mothers proud and dazzling any potential male suitors. A highly underrated cooking authority, her goods and services were eagerly sought after by Philadelphia's elite during the first half of the nineteenth century. As recently as 1994, Patrick Dunne and Charles L. Mackie wrote in Historic Preservation magazine that she was “an extraordinary, neglected figure in culinary history and should be credited as the mother of American cookery.”1 Her culinary style and techniques were considered paramount at that time, not only in Philadelphia, but around the country as well. It is no wonder mothers wanted their daughters to attend her school.

  Mrs. Goodfellow was born in 1768 as Elizabeth Baker, the daughter of William and Ann Baker, most likely in Maryland.2 She was married (and widowed) three times. So little is known about her that it is a mystery how she spent her life bef
ore opening the shop and cooking school, including how and where she received her culinary training. And as far as what she looked like, there is only one identified photograph in existence, taken at the very end of her life when she was about eighty.

  It is probable that Mrs. Goodfellow was from a British background, since many families with the “Baker” surname immigrated to America from England starting in the late 1600s. In addition, her recipes and pastry-making bear striking similarities to British cooks of the day, including Elizabeth Raffald, Maria Eliza Ketelby Rundell, and Hannah Glasse. In fact, it appears that cookbooks written by Rundell and Glasse were used as instruction manuals in her school.3

  Her first husband had the last name Pearson, but his first name and other personal information are unknown. We also do not know when and where they were married. They had a daughter, Sarah, born on March 4, 1800. By 1801 they were living in Philadelphia, where she is first mentioned in a city directory as Eliza Pearson, pastry cook.4 She is listed as Elizabeth Pearson in 1802 and 1803, with the shop location of 64 Dock Street. Her husband must have died in 1803 or 1804, since the 1804 Philadelphia directory lists her as Elizabeth Pearson, widow.5

  This husband may have been a pastry cook as well. In the book Literary Landmarks of Philadelphia, Mrs. Goodfellow is described as “the widow of a pastry cook, and herself a pastry cook, succeeded her husband in a shop at 64 Dock Street, somewhere between Second Street and Walnut,”6 although there are no instances of a male pastry cook with the last name Pearson in any of the early 1800s Philadelphia directories.

  Eliza then wed Robert Coane sometime in 1803 or early 1804, and their son, also named Robert Coane, was born October 1, 1804. Not much is known about this husband either, other than that he came to the United States from Ireland by 1796 and was naturalized on August 2, 1805.7 According to one of his descendants, Abigail Coane Leibell, he was thought to be Protestant and from Higginstown, outside Ballyshannon, county Donegal.8