Groats, gruel, gruau... it's all oatmeal to me!

So here goes. My first vintage recipe, found in The Healthy Life Cook Book by Florence Daniel, and published in 1915.

The Second Edition of the book features a preface by Mrs. Daniel that goes like this: "This little cookery book was originally published for that 'straighter' sect of food-reformers who abstain from the use of salt, yeast, etc." Having no clue as to what "food reformers" were, I let my fingers do the tapping and researched the term only to discover that it applied to vegetarians. For some strange reason, I somehow never considered that vegetarians might have existed back 1915.  This led me to read up on a brief history of vegetarianism which I found fascinating.


Back to our recipe. Our esteemed author called for Robinson's "Patent" Groats. What is a groat and why would it need a patent, I asked myself. I assumed this was oatmeal, considering that oatmeal was part of the recipe's name, but to be sure, I once again let my fingers do the tapping and found that groats are “hulled, or hulled and crushed grain of various kinds, chiefly oats, but also wheat, barley, and maize." According to the article, one was supposed to dissolve them in water or milk and they were "considered excellent nourishment for mothers, babies and invalids." I suddenly recalled a scene in one of my favourite movies, Oliver, based on Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist, where the boys in a workhouse were fed gruel at every meal. "More food please!" Poor Oliver. I find it interesting that "groats" sound like the French "gruau" for oatmeal. But once again, I digress.

For those not familiar with the term "castor" or "caster" sugar, it's simply super-fine granulated sugar. The term is commonly used in British cook books.

The recipe itself is very simple and includes but a few ingredients, and not surprising, no salt. 

Fine Oatmeal Biscuits

• 2 ounces flour
• 3 1/2 ounces Robinson's "Patent" Groats
• 2 ounces castor sugar
• 2 ounces butter
• 2 eggs

Cream the butter and sugar, add the eggs, then the flour and groats, which should be mixed together. Roll out thin and cut out with a cutter. Bake in a moderate oven until a light colour.

As you can see, this recipe should have been as simple as pie. So, in an effort to be transparent, I have a confession to make. Despite the fact that I have been in culinary school for four months... Despite the fact that I received 100% on my last examination... And despite the fact that I really, really should have known better - I made this simple yet significant error: when measuring out the ingredients,  I confused ounces for grams. I know, I know. The shame of it. But I promised myself I'd be completely honest in this venture so hence my mea culpa. As you can very well imagine, my 2 grams of butter and 2 grams of sugar looked fairly pitiful in my mixing bowl. After adding 2 eggs, 2 grams of flour and 3.5 grams of oatmeal, I looked at the wet mess and wondered where on earth I'd gone wrong. Wait. I was using large eggs. Were they too big? How big were eggs in 1915? Did I need to adjust my dry ingredients to compensate for the large eggs? And just like that, my brain decided to kick in gear and I realized my mistake. Knowing full well that 1 ounce = 28 grams, I quickly did the math and adjusted the recipe accordingly.

As the recipe indicated, the dough needed to be rolled out, but mine was too liquid so I added a little flour and left it to rest in the refrigerator for about 10 minutes. I then rolled out the "biscuits" to about 2 mm with my new adjustable rolling pin (Christmas present from hubby) and baked them in a 350 degree oven for 9 minutes.

And voila!

The gold-plated dessert plates were handed down to me from my grandmother 

Loretta (Lussier) Duriez  (1903-1999). 

They're tasty, though a little dry, but nice with a cup of tea. 

Well, that was fun and very informative indeed. For my next entry, I promise to find something with more than  five ingredients. Chocolate. Yes, something with chocolate would be nice. 

A bientôt!