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RWA National, here in New York City, is coming up. For people who might not know, RWA is the Romance Writers of America, and our national conference is 2000+ people strong, plus this year it’s in my hometown!

(Which just means, sadly, I am not rooming with Risky Carolyn, instead staying at home, since justifying a hotel room wasn’t within my powers of persuasion.)

But on a happier note, it does mean I can see my writing friends. Even though they might think of me as their ‘non-writing friend,’ since I haven’t done more than poke at my mss. in the past few months, since taking on the new job. The agent is still out with several projects, so hope springs eternal that something will happen, writing-wise.

Okay, fine, yay me. But if you’re coming to NYC also, we should be announcing plans for Risky get-together, plus you’ll get to be in NYC! Where the food is amazing and despite rumors to the contrary, cheap. You just need to know where to go, and where not to go.

I heartily recommend Carolyn and her mad baking skillz find time to visit Momofuku Milk Bar, which offers the Crack Pie. In addition to other insanely good cookies, etc.

Banh mi is a Vietnamese sandwich that includes a baguette, pork, pate, jalapenos, cilantro, pickled carrots and is pure nom. There are many, many places to obtain this sammie, and it is well worth it (not likely worth the French colonial domination of Vietnam, but the collision of cultures is obvious, and delicious).

Apparently, Koreans kick butt on making fried chicken, although I haven’t tried it yet myself. It’s on the list. There’s a Koreatown right near Macy’s.

And when in doubt, go ethnic; it’s cheap, it’s usually delicious, and can be found all over the city.

And now I am hungry. Darn.

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I am on vacation in New York, visiting Risky Megan. This means I am away from my library of paper inspiration. I have the internet at my fingertips but all I can think about is the awesomeness that is the Pop Tart Store. Genius. Sheer genius.

Now I’m wondering what life in the Regency would have been like if someone had invented Pop Tarts 200 years ago.

Mrs. Porter-Evans: Archibald, dear, Cook has made the most delicious biscuit for the little darlings!

Archibald: What’s that dear? Frederick? Frederick! Stop running around like that Freddie!

Mrs. PE: Biscuit, dear. DUCK!!! It’s jam between slices of puff pastry and covered in frosting! You toast it.

Blam. A rasher of bacon slides across the floor and hits the footman’s boots.

Mrs. PE: Freddie, dear, do stop and Darling Susan, poppet, if you keep spinning you’re going to be— Johnson!

Johnson: On it, Ma’am.

Mrs. PE: Do change your boots, Johnson

Freddie:
May I have another?

Susan: Mama, he’s already had three and I’ve only had two.

Archibald:
No more of those infernal things. And please dismiss the cook.

I don’t think the Regency was ready for Pop Tarts. Agree or disagree

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I’m trying to be enthusiastic about food.

Now, to those of you who know me, that may sound odd, because formerly I loved to eat. In fact I did rather too much of it. Then came adventures with teeth, where for some time I nursed along two temporary crowns and a gap, and had to think every time I put something in my mouth whether it could dislodge a crown and whether it was therefore worth the effort. (Yes, we romance writers are such glamorous creatures.)

Now I sport a full working mouth of teeth again and decided I should build on the momentum of losing weight by joining Weightwatchers. I’m finding it a slow, tedious process, the program altogether too damn perky, and some of the food weird. (Brownies made with black beans? Eew.)

I’m not that enthusiastic about food and it’s not helping the weight loss process, so I’m trying to take an interest. I mourn the brief tomato and peach seasons of the summer; the first time my farmers’ market had heirloom tomatoes, I brought some home, along with a loaf of expensive artisan bread, and made myself a massive tomato sandwich. I think it was the highlight, gastronomically, of my summer.

I’m thinking hard about the pleasures of winter squash and of the delicacies of winter-harvested brussel sprouts; yes, I know 90% of you are turning up your noses, but believe me, brussel sprouts turn deliciously sweet in frost, even if you have to saw through the stalks. I’m indebted to the wonderful Tiny Farm Blog for this picture and other interesting stuff.

So, what would Regency folks eat in October? According to Sarah and Samuel Adams, you’d get the last of the artichokes and scarlet beans, the first broccoli, and cabbage, carrots, endive, leeks, onions, potatoes, beets, parsnips, spinach, and small salad (not sure what this is; does anyone know?). Just imagine what you could get if you had a greenhouse. Yum. (The pic, by the way, is from Colonial Williamsburg, not England.)

What are you planning on eating and cooking this fall? Any sources of good recipes you’d like to share?

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I blogged yesterday over at The Spiced Tea Party about dealing with the heat. I live near Washington DC where every year, when the temperatures spike into the upper, and very humid, 90s we assure each other, and unlucky visitors, that it never normally does this here. Right.

So I thought I’d talk today about the joys of Regency summer living. Ice cream certainly wasn’t invented in the Regency, but it was very popular among those who could afford it–visit historicfood.com to check out recipes for this gorgeous collection of ice creams and water ices: in the back, royal cream ice, chocolate cream ice, burnt filbert cream ice and parmesan cream ice; in front, bergamot water ice and punch water ice. I’m guessing that the parmesan cream ice (and some of the others, too) must have been served as a savory accompaniment, to be expected when each remove would include items that nowadays we’d consider being strictly dessert.

Big question–were ice cream cones used in the Regency? According to this illustration from 1807, and article at historicfood.com, they were.

The great houses made sure they would have plenty of ice by constructing an ice house–this is the interior of a brick-built Georgian ice house at Parlington Hall, Yorkshire, which measures a mighty 16 ft. in diameter and around 20 ft. deep.

Ice would be cut from local lakes or imported from countries such as Norway, and insulated with straw. The actual igloo-like design of the ice house, and its position in a shady spot on the grounds would aid in keeping the ice cool.

As for cool drinks, spruce beer was always a favorite. Made from spruce buds, its flavor could cover a whole range from citrus to pine–or possibly not. exoticsoda.com bravely tested a modern brand and came to this conclusion:

If ever offered a bottle, save yourself the trouble and drink some paint thinner. It will taste the same, but you can wash your brushes with the remaining thinner you don’t drink. Spruce Beer would probably melt the bristles off. But it’s not all bad …there is a sweet buffer that does keep you from projectile vomiting.

Lemon barley water was a favorite, too, first manufactured by Robinson and Belville in 1823 in powder form, to be mixed with water to cure kidney complaints and fevers. It also aids in lactation, should you have the need, and Robinson’s lemon barley water is still the official drink of Wimbledon for players (although presumably not for that reason). Here’s a modern recipe from cuisine.com.

As for lemonade itself, here is a recipe from the seventeenth century from coquinaria.nl, and Mrs. Beetons’, from the 1830s, at thefoody.com.

I also looked around for some ginger beer recipes–ginger was readily available as it was a subsidiary crop in the sugar-producing islands and found this one at allrecipes.com which claims to date back to the Tudor era.

What are your favorite summer drinks or ice cream flavors? Have you ever made any yourself? Do you have any favorite historic food sites?

This is very belatedly in a response to a question someone asked when I or Jane Lockwood was guest blogging (and before I forget, you can enter Pam Rosenthal’s contest to win a copy of Jane’s book Forbidden Shores–the dirty one with the bodiceripper cover). The question was, who would I invite to dinner if I could have anyone from any time?

Great question, and it opens up all sorts of possibilities. As far as real people go, I’d like to invite Brummell, Byron, and Jane Austen, and watch her have fun with them both, possibly aided and abetted by Harriet Wilson. I think I’d serve shish kebabs… definitely something on skewers, to be followed by raspberries.

If you open it up to fictional characters, you could have a lot of fun mixing and matching characters–the Miss Dashwoods meet Toad of Toad Hall, for instance. The Bennett sisters enjoy rat pie and chips with the Watch of Ank-Morporkh, while one of Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler’s sausages has a profound effect (but not the usual one) on Proust. Sir Walter Elliot and Mr. Micawber dine (on food bought on credit, cooked and served by servants who haven’t been paid in months) and discuss matters of economy.

What do you think? Who would you invite to your literary (or otherwise) feast, and what sort of food and drink would you serve? Which characters would you like to mix and match for a dinner party?

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