"And the Dish Ran Away With the Spoon": Mythical Foodscapes in Children's Literature Part IV: Raggedy Ann in Cookie Land

In Part III, Raggedy Ann and the Magic Wishing Pebble, many adventures followed when Raggedy Ann found a magic wishing pebble and wished for a magic ice cream soda fountain and a lollipop field. The story takes place in the countryside, a make-believe tale in the setting of the physical real world. In Raggedy Ann in Cookie Land (1931), however, the Raggedys enter a fantasy world composed entirely of cookie dough. Indeed, the setting is strikingly similar to Bunbury, the dough-based village that Dorothy stumbles upon in the Wizard of Oz (1910) discussed in Part II.

Raggedy Ann in Cookie Land begins with a nod to Alice in Wonderland, when Raggedy Ann and Andy fall down a hole in an oak tree while in pursuit of a rabbit. They land in an ice grotto and quickly discover that all of the icicles are made of flavored soda water. As in Alice in Wonderland, when the Raggedys leave the real world (i.e., the nursery to which they belong) their first encounter is with something to consume. It is through this first taste of magic that the adventure begins, for the Raggedys find that the icicle water has gone right through their cotton stuffing, causing them to stick to the grotto's ice floor. As a result, they are at the mercy of Hookie the Goblin, who informs them that he will chop them with an ice pick and make noodle soup out of Raggedy Ann.

After the Raggedys' inevitable escape with the help of a kindly elf named Little Weakie, they enter a door which leads to a giant oven room, filled with the tantalizing smells of a bakery. Despite the group's innocent intentions, they are countered by a strange, stiff man who is very angry at the trespassers and says he will have to put them through a roller. In defense, Little Weakie strikes the man and he breaks in half. It is then that the Raggedys and Little Weakie discover that the man is a cookie man. Feeling very sorry that the man is broken, Raggedy Ann mends him with molasses and decorates him with some candy icing trim so that he looks much smarter. As the cookie man regains consciousness, he is so relieved to have been mended by the kindly group that he takes them home to meet his family-- Mrs. Cookie and their two children. It turns out that the Cookie family is deeply fearful that they or their possessions (all made of cookie dough or candy) will be eaten by interlopers, and are thus relieved when they do meet anyone who does not intend to eat them. It is surprising and unnecessary that anyone should want to eat the cookie people themselves because they are always baking more and more cookies and giving them away. And yet, there are numerous foes, such as Hookie the Goblin, who do attempt to eat the cookie people.

Left to right: Little Weakie, Raggedy Ann, the Howloon, Hookie the Goblin, Raggedy Andy, the Snitznoodle, Mrs. Cookie, and Mr. Cookie.

After arriving at Mr. and Mrs. Cookie's cake house, the Raggedys and Little Weakie sit down to dinner:

"It was a lovely dinner, for Mrs. Cookie had baked a chicken, nice and brown. It wasn't a real-for-sure chicken. It was a cake chicken covered with maple-walnut and chocolate icing to make it look real. And, it was stuffed with chopped cherries and pecan nuts. The gravy for the chicken was chocolate ice cream, just soft enough to pour over it. The Raggedys and Little Weakie enjoyed the dinner very, very much for it had been almost an hour since they had eaten anything. And then they had had only eleven cookies apiece, and those did not have icing on them. So they were quite hungry."

The abundance of food in Cookie Land attracts some very hungry lost souls, some who do not even know they are hungry until they have tasted some of Mrs. Cookie's baked goods. The Snitznoodle, for instance, soon becomes friends with the group. He is clearly not a threat for he says,

"But you know, I never eat anything but wind sandwiches."

"Wind sandwiches?" Raggedy Ann asked.

"I am very fond of them," the Snitznoodle said. "And, as they cost nothing, it keeps my board-bill down to a small amount each month."

The Snitznoodle then demonstrates how to prepare wind sandwiches:

"I'm going to show you how to make wind sandwiches. Then if Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy and Little Weakie ever get hungry they can find supplies almost anywhere."

The Snitznoodle took a knife from his pocket. "See?" he said. "First I cut two thin slices of air. And then I spread a lump of soft wind on each slice of air and place them together and I have a nice wind sandwich."

But when Mrs. Cookie gives the Snitznoodle an ice cream cone he admits,

"My! That is ever so much better than a wind sandwich!"

Having tasted the delicious ice cream cone, the Snitznoodle asks if he can live with the cookie people, who are very happy to welcome him to their home.

The Snitznoodle

In this way, the realities of hunger are very much a part of the story. Written in the early years of the Great Depression in the United States, when many had difficulty affording even basic provisions, the vision of Cookie Land presented children with a make-believe world of plenty where everyone learns to share and so might never be hungry.  Such stories of imaginary food are not unusual in times of strife.

When food is unavailable, it is the food of the mind that can offer a measure of sustenance. As one reader noted in Part III, this brings to mind examples such as the recording of recipes in World War II concentration camps.  This has been preserved in In Memory's Kitchen: A Legacy from the Women of Terezín by Cara De Silva (2006) which collects the recipes transcribed by Jewish women in the Terezín concentration camp in Czechoslovakia.

"And the Dish Ran Away With the Spoon": Mythical Foodscapes in Children's Literature
Part I: Utensia
Part II: Bunbury
Part III: Raggedy Ann and the Magic Wishing Pebble

Blancmange: Affordable Elegance

As promised in my post on the Cream Top Milk Separator, I've tested one of the recipes from the Cream Top booklet-- Vanilla Cornstarch Pudding. Also known as blancmange, this classic white dessert came to be known as vanilla pudding in the United States by the 1930s. The lovely and elegant blancmange was perfectly suited to the Depression era recipes of the Cream Top booklet and its pledge of "luxury without extravagance", as the only ingredients are milk, a small amount of sugar and salt, and cornstarch.  Instead of using cow's milk, I made the recipe with coconut milk. You could also try rice or almond milk, from which blancmange has long been prepared, or any other nut milk.  The cornstarch is used for firming and works wonderfully, without adulterating the taste of the pudding.  Although I haven't tried it, I'm sure arrowroot powder would work just as well.  Gelatin is often used in blancmange to create a densely moulded shape but I prefer the soft buoyancy yielded from cornstarch.  For a stiff mould, try using agar-agar instead of gelatin.  Blancmange is a very simple dessert and one of the most satisfying things to eat on a warm day because of its cold, slippery texture.  The taste is light and subtle, much like rice pudding without the rice, and therefore the perfect template on which to experiment, by adding flavors such as rosewater, saffron, and cardamom, or embedding ingredients such as edible flowers in the mould.

Recipe
Vanilla Cornstarch Pudding, adapted from the Cream Top Recipe Booklet

Ingredients

3 Tbs cornstarch
3 cups coconut or almond milk (original recipe uses cow's milk)
4 Tbs granulated sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup heavy cream, whipped (I omitted this)


Mix cornstarch, salt, sugar and 1/2 cup of the milk.  Meanwhile scald rest of milk in double boiler.  Pour little of scalded milk on the cornstarch mixture and blend.  Add this to remaining scalded milk and stir constantly until pudding thickens.  Remove spoon, cover double boiler and cook 25 minutes stirring occasionally.  Add vanilla, beat up well, pour into 6 cold wet molds, chill thoroughly, and then unmold.  Serve with whipped cream.  Add sliced fresh fruit, canned fruit or stewed dried fruit, if desired.  Serves 6.

To prevent skin forming on surface of pudding while chilling, cover top of glasses or molds with wax or parchment paper, transparent cellulose sheeting or aluminum foil.

I Made a Fool Out of Gooseberries

Like its close relation, the currant, the gooseberry (Ribes) grows in perfect harmony with the long days of summer. The fruiting season is slow and measured, beginning in the early spring, when the lanky bush sprouts tiny green shoots and eventually shy, white blossoms.  In the summer, the branches bend toward the ground with neat rows of green, delicately veined fruit, slowly maturing to purple orbs around midsummer.  It is always a little sad when you realize that the bush is suddenly bare, all the fruit having finally fallen or been eaten, as this marks the end of summer.

Indigenous to the temperate zones of Europe, the gooseberry is known to have been cultivated as early as the thirteenth century.  It became a conventional ingredient by the sixteenth century and was used in sauces and stuffings.  ("Gooseberry"  An A-Z of Food and Drink. Ed. John Ayto. Oxford University Press, 2002).  Because of their tartness, gooseberries will combine well with anything sweet, such as the custards and cream desserts with which they have long been paired.   Gooseberries can be eaten in both the unripe and ripe states, the latter being slightly sweeter and less acidic.

Beloved in Britain, gooseberries were put to good use in the classic fool.  The earliest extant English recipe for gooseberry fool is found in Hannah Glasse's Art of Cookery (1747) and has not varied much in comparison with present-day adaptations.   Below, I've featured the recipe I use, followed by Glasse's recipe.  Since gooseberries are not often seen in markets, they are worth growing yourself, producing an abundant, disease- and pest-free crop of ready to cook, vitamin-rich fruit.  This season, I'll also try the gooseberry and elderflower cake recipe from Fennel & Fern.

Gooseberry Fool made with ripe purple gooseberries.

Recipe

Gooseberry Fool

You can use green or purple gooseberries for the fool. Since I have only made this recipe with ripe, purple ones, you may find that unripe, green gooseberries require a little more honey or sugar for the compote. Adjust with a teaspoon at a time until you get a nice sweet/tart balance.

Ingredients

1 pound green or purple gooseberries (about 3 cups)

1/2 cup honey

Juice and zest of 1 orange

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

pinch of salt

3/4 cup heavy cream

1 Tbs granulated sugar

1. Prepare gooseberries by removing the tiny tails with a sharp knife or fork tines.

Slice gooseberries in half and place in a heavy saucepan. Add honey, vanilla, and salt. Cover the pot and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes. When the mixture is bubbly and the fruit has softened, remove from the heat and allow to cool. Pour into a bowl and refrigerate until cold, 30 minutes to 1 hour.

2. Whip cream and gradually add sugar. Continue whipping until soft peaks form. Reserve about 1/3 of the compote mixture for garnish and fold the remainder into the whipped cream until well blended. Spoon the fool into 6 serving glasses or bowls and chill for 1 hour before serving. Serve garnished with reserved gooseberry compote. Keeps up to 2 days refrigerated.

Period Recipe from The Art of Cookery (1747) by Hannah Glasse

To make a gooseberry fool.

Take two quarts of gooseberries, set them on the fire in
about a quart of water. When they begin to simmer, turn yellow
and begin to plump, throw them into a colander to drain
the water out ; then with the back of a spoon carefully squeeze
the pulp, throw the sieve into a dish, make them pretty sweet
and let them stand till they are cold. In the mean time take
two quarts of new milk, and the yolks of four eggs beat up
with a little grated nutmeg; stir it softly over a slow fire ; when
it begins to simmer, take it off, and by degrees stir it into the
gooseberries. Let it stand till it is cold, and serve it up. If you
make it with cream you need not put any eggs in : and if it
is not thick enough, it is only boiling more gooseberries, But
that you must do as you think proper.