In our fast-paced modern world, where trendy superfoods and innovative culinary fusions are constantly emerging, it’s easy to overlook the rich history behind many of our everyday meals. But the foods we consume daily often carry with them stories that span centuries, if not millennia. These humble dishes may have witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations or the births of revolutionary technological advancements, without ever really changing their basic nature.
Here are seven foods that are much older than we might think — foods that are not only part of culinary history, but also part of the story of human civilization itself.
Noodles, a staple in cuisines worldwide, have a history spanning thousands of years. While many people associate pasta with Italy, the oldest known noodles were actually discovered in China. In 2005, scientists uncovered this ancient food, dating back 4,000 years, at the Lajia archaeological site along the upper reaches of the Yellow River in northwest China. The thin, delicate, yellow noodles resembled the traditional lamian noodles (pulled noodles) still common in northern China today. The discovery proved that people have been enjoying noodles for millennia. Since then, of course, the food has spread across the globe, be it in the form of Italian spaghetti or Japanese ramen.
Today, tofu — also known as bean curd — tends to divide opinion. To some, it’s a nutritious, low-fat protein source that serves as a key ingredient in many vegetarian and vegan diets. To others, it’s a tasteless, rubbery mass of crushed, boiled soybeans. Love it or loathe it, tofu has been around for a long time, and various theories exist as to its invention. Some say it was developed by Liu An, a Chinese scholar and ruler of the Huainan Kingdom who lived from 179 to 122 BCE. Another theory argues that it was invented accidentally some time before 600 CE, when a careless cook, probably in northern China, seasoned a pureed soybean soup with unrefined sea salt, causing the whole thing to curdle and produce a tofu-like gel. Neither theory is based on hard evidence, however. Historians tend to agree that the use of tofu dates back to the Han dynasty, from 206 BCE to 220 CE.
This beloved breakfast food has been sizzling on griddles for longer than you might think. Evidence suggests that pancakes — flat cakes made from batter and then fried — were prepared and consumed by our prehistoric ancestors. Analysis of starch grains on 30,000-year-old grinding tools indicates that Stone Age cooks made flour to create a primitive form of flatbread — a kind of proto-pancake. The first written records of pancakes come from the ancient Greeks and Romans, who sweetened pancakes with honey. We also know the British ate pancakes during the Elizabethan era; their version was often very rich and may have included rose water, sherry, eggs, ale, or butter (or any combination thereof). Shakespeare himself mentions pancakes in his play As You Like It, but these were traditional pancakes eaten on Shrove Tuesday (the day before Ash Wednesday in the Christian faith), which were made with beef and dipped in mustard.
Today, cheesecake is a common option on modern dessert menus, yet its origins can be traced back to classical antiquity. The earliest known cheesecake recipe — or something akin to cheesecake — comes from the Greek physician Aegimus, who wrote about making cheesecakes in the fifth century BCE. (Some historians have suggested that cheesecake was even served to athletes at the first-ever Olympic Games in Greece, as far back as 776 BCE.) The ancient Romans later adopted and adapted the recipe. Cato the Elder’s farming manual, De Agri Cultura, written in 160 BCE, features several recipes for cheesecakes, including a sweet version called savillum and a savory cheesecake called libum.
Americans consume around 14 billion quarts of popcorn annually. But popcorn predates movie theaters and microwaves by thousands of years. Archaeological digs in Peru have revealed that people were eating popcorn as far back as 6,700 years ago. In North America, meanwhile, an ear of popcorn found in a cave in New Mexico was dated to be some 5,600 years old. Popcorn was an important part of the Aztec and Inca diets, and many European explorers first came upon this now-ubiquitous treat through contact with Indigenous peoples in the U.S. Around the year 1612, for example, early French explorers through the Great Lakes region noted that the Iroquois often popped their corn.
The precise origins of yogurt are unknown, but we do know that this fermented dairy product has been part of the human diet for millennia. According to some historical accounts, yogurt was discovered accidentally thousands of years ago by nomadic herdsmen. These nomads carried milk in pouches made of animal skins, which contained naturally occurring enzymes that caused the milk to ferment, inadvertently producing an edible food — yogurt — that had the benefit of lasting longer than milk. Some of the first recorded accounts of yogurt — as well as its health benefits — are found in Indian Ayurvedic scripts from around 6000 BCE. The word itself is believed to have come from the Turkish word yoğurmak, which means to thicken, coagulate, or curdle.
Everyone knows bread has been around for a long time, but it may be surprising to learn that bread is so old, it even predates the advent of agriculture. Researchers have found evidence that prehistoric hunter-gatherers engaged in bread production using wild cereals as far back as 14,400 years ago — predating the development of farming by at least 4,000 years. Archaeologists discovered the charred remains of flatbreads at an archaeological site in northeastern Jordan. When analyzed, these remains revealed that ancient humans had collected the wild ancestors of now-domesticated cereals such as barley, einkorn, and oat, which they then ground, sieved, and kneaded prior to cooking.
Food has always been central to human life, but our eating habits have evolved considerably over time. The idea of eating three meals a day, for instance, is now an intrinsic practice for many people, yet it’s a relatively recent development in human history. For centuries, meal habits were sporadic and dictated by various factors: success in hunting or agriculture, religious practices, work schedules, and even the availability of lighting among them. So how did we arrive at this trio of meals?
Of our three routine meals, “dinner” has the deepest etymological roots, though the meaning of the word has shifted over time. In ancient Roman times, it was the one large meal everyone ate, although it was consumed earlier in the day than it is today — sometime around noon. This extended into the Middle Ages in Europe. Laborers often ate a small meal of bread and ale early in the morning before starting a day’s work on the farm. Their main meal of the day, called dinner, was served around noon, and a light snack, known as supper, was sometimes eaten in the evening.
By the late 1700s, the Industrial Revolution was in full swing in Britain; workdays became longer, people could no longer come home to eat their main meal of the day, and artificial lighting — primarily candles — became more accessible and reliable, enabling household activities to go later into the evening. The timing of dinner began to shift, and by the end of the 18th century, many people were eating dinner in the evening after returning home from work. For most people in Europe and the United States, this evening meal became the largest and anchor meal of the day by the mid-1800s, informing the traditional family dinner as we still know it.
In the Middle Ages, Christian religious routines dictated that nothing could be eaten before morning Mass. The word “breakfast,” literally meaning to “break the fast” from the night before, is believed to have originated in this period. Despite the term’s origins, however, breakfast as a regular meal wasn’t widely adopted until Britain slowly began industrializing and its population started moving from farms to cities throughout the 1600s. As the Industrial Revolution progressed through the 18th and 19th centuries in Europe and the United States, so did the need for a regular morning meal to sustain workers through labor-intensive mornings. By the early 20th century, breakfast culture took off even further thanks to figures such as John Harvey Kellogg, who invented Corn Flakes cereal, as well as marketing campaigns in the 1920s and ’30s promoting breakfast as the most important meal of the day.
Advertisement
Advertisement
Credit: Camerique/ Archive Photos via Getty Images
Lunch Arrives Late
As industrialization reshaped daily routines and more people moved from farms to factories and offices, workers needed something to sustain them during the long hours between their morning and evening meals at home. Enter lunch, the last of the three modern meals to cement its place in our daily eating habits. As late as 1755, lunch was simply understood as a small amount of food, more of a snack than a formal meal. Though the origins of the word are murky, it’s likely a short form of “luncheon,” itself possibly from the English words “lump” (a small mass) and “nuncheon” (a slight midday refreshment). It wasn’t until around 1850 that lunch officially began filling the gap between breakfast and dinner. By the turn of the 20th century, it had become a defined meal, typically eaten between 12 p.m. and 2 p.m., and consisting of standard lunch fare even by today’s standards: sandwiches, soups, and salads.
The mid-1800s to the start of Prohibition in 1920 is considered a golden age of mixology in the United States. Imbibing alcohol had long been a crucial component of Americans’ social lives, but for many years people mainly drank rudimentary ales, ciders, rums, and whiskeys. That began to change during the Industrial Revolution, with the mass-production of alcoholic spirits. As copious amounts of affordable liquor became available, some ingenious bartenders began to experiment with new cocktail recipes, many of which became highly popular and in turn revolutionized the alcohol industry.
By the middle of the 19th century, many new boozy beverages with complex and decadent flavor profiles were being created, giving rise to a golden age of cocktails — a term first used in 1798 to describe a “drink made from water, sugar, spirits, and bitters,” according to etymonline.com. In 1862, New York City bartender and saloon owner Jerry Thomas — who TheNew York Timescalled the “Father of American Mixology” — published The Bar-Tenders’ Guide, which is now widely considered the first cocktail book in U.S. history. This foundational text redefined cocktail-making, bringing innovative mixed drinks to the masses and inspiring future creations. Here’s a look at five timeless drinks that came out of this golden age of cocktails.
Some sources claim the origins of the Sazerac date back to the 1830s, though that date is disputed; according to drinks columnist and cocktail expert David Wondrich, it was more likely invented during the 1880s or 1890s. Whatever the origins, there’s no disputing the Sazerac is still a beloved classic cocktail, particularly among residents of the city where it was created: New Orleans, Louisiana.
The earliest Sazeracs were made using a French brandy called Sazerac de Forge et Fils Cognac, which was mixed with half a teaspoon of cold water, a sugar cube, a lemon peel, and four dashes of bitters. The purported mastermind behind this libation was pharmacist Antoine Amédée Peychaud, who moved from the French colony of St. Domingue to New Orleans around 1800. (Peychaud is also known for selling his namesake bitters, which have become staples of cocktail bars around the world.)
Around 1885, the cognac in the recipe was swapped out for American rye whiskey, which remains the standard spirit used in Sazeracs. The preparation process is also noteworthy: While the drink is mixed in one glass, another chilled cocktail glass is swirled with a wash of absinthe; the ingredients are then poured into the absinthe-scented glass and served immediately. After well over a century of enduring popularity, Sazerac was declared the official cocktail of New Orleans in 2008.
The old-fashioned cocktail we know today was the result of trial and error throughout the 19th century. One early predecessor was Thomas’ “Gin Cocktail,” which was similar to an old-fashioned but with gin instead of whiskey or bourbon. Credit for the drink as we know it today is often given to the bourbon distiller Colonel James E. Pepper. He is said to have created the cocktail at the Pendennis Club in Louisville, Kentucky, and then introduced the recipe to bartenders at the Waldorf Astoria hotel in New York City, leading to a rise in its popularity — though it’s possible the story is apocryphal.
Before the name “old-fashioned” was christened, a similar concoction of whiskey mixed with bitters was known as a “Whiskey Cocktail,” according to Difford’s Guide. In the 1870s, bartenders began adding ingredients like absinthe and Chartreuse, so customers began ordering “old-fashioned Whiskey Cocktails” when they wanted a simple drink.
The 1888 Bartenders’ Manual by Theodore Proulx includes one of the earliest printed recipes for the old-fashioned: “one-half lump of sugar… add a little bitters, syrup and absinthe… twist a piece of lemon-peel… drop in two or three pieces of ice, one jigger of whisky… and strain into another glass.” Bartenders and patrons alike loved the drink for its simplicity, as it provided an easy alternative to the increasingly complex cocktails of the time. It wasn’t until the 20th century that several now-commonplace modifications were made to the drink, including adding maraschino cherries and orange zest.
When it comes to the origins of the Manhattan cocktail, the one thing historians know for certain is that it was created in the 19th century. But how it was created remains in dispute, as many of its origin stories are somewhat dubious. The most oft-repeated story claims it was invented in 1874 for a dinner held by Lady Randolph Churchill, Winston Churchill’s mother, in honor of New York Governor Samuel J. Tilden. But historians cast doubt on the claim, suggesting she was actually back in England at the time while pregnant with Winston. Another more probable, yet still uncertain story is that the cocktail was invented by a bartender named “Black” — possibly a man named George Black, according to Difford’s Guide — in the 1860s. Black purportedly worked at a tavern on Houston Street in New York City called the Manhattan Inn, hence the drink’s name.
In any case, the Manhattan cocktail made its way into recipe books in the 1880s. An 1882 column in The Olean Democrat referenced the “Manhattan Cocktail” (also known as a “Turf Club” or “Jockey Club” cocktail) as a mixture of bitters, whiskey, and vermouth. In 1884, recipes for two types of Manhattans appeared in O.H. Byron’s The Modern Bartenders’ Guide. The “Manhattan Cocktail, No. 1” was made using French vermouth, whiskey, Angostura bitters, and gum syrup, while the “No. 2” variant contained “Curacoa,” Angostura bitters, whiskey, Italian vermouth, and ice.
According to cocktail expert Simon Difford, nobody is certain as to the exact origin of the martini — a classic mix of either gin or vodka and dry vermouth, garnished with a lemon twist or olive. But one of the leading theories is that the martini was derived from a popular boozy beverage called the Martinez. The Martinez, which has unclear origins of its own, is a cocktail made of equal parts gin and sweet vermouth, with a quarter-ounce of maraschino liqueur, a few dashes of Angostura bitters, and an orange twist. Some think that the Martinez was invented by Thomas at his Bay Area saloon for a customer who was traveling to the nearby city of Martinez, California. But those who live in the city of Martinez itself say that it was created by a local bartender. Either way, the first known printed recipe for a Martinez appeared in Byron’s 1884 cocktail guide.
The first known print recipe for a “Martini Cocktail,” meanwhile, appeared four years later in Harry Johnson’s Bartender Manual. The drink contained gum syrup, bitters (specifically the Boker’s brand), “curacoa” (curaçao), Old Tom gin, and vermouth. This recipe was quite similar to that of another cocktail at the time, the Marguerite, which was made with Plymouth gin, French vermouth, and orange bitters. It wasn’t long until the very first recipe for a “Dry Martini” was printed, in the 1904 French cocktail book American-Bar Recettes des Boissons Anglaises et Américaine.The recipe specifically called for dry vermouth in place of the sweeter vermouths that were commonly used at the time. Martini recipes became simpler as time went on, and both curaçao and orange bitters were largely removed by the 1940s.
Though the drink has fallen out of fashion, the Blue Blazer was one of the most spectacular cocktails created during the golden age. Its origins date back to the 1850s, but it became a widespread sensation after Thomas’ Bar-Tenders’ Guide was published in 1862. Thomas purportedly conceived of the Blue Blazer while working at a gambling saloon in San Francisco. The drink itself was rather simple, but the showmanship that accompanied it won over the hearts of patrons.
The recipe is reminiscent of what we know today as a hot toddy, and begins by mixing “1 wine-glass” of Scotch whisky with boiling water in a silver-plated mug. The mug is then lit aflame, and its fiery contents are poured between two mugs “four or five times,” creating a visually stunning arc of blue flame. Per the instructions, you then add one teaspoon of white sugar and a lemon peel to cap it all off. This dramatic performance delighted onlookers, including Ulysses S. Grant, who once witnessed Thomas make the drink firsthand.
Tastes in 19th-century America were generations removed from our tastes today. Vegetables weren’t generally as appreciated as they are nowadays, and vitamins were yet to be discovered as an important nutritional factor. Food was also very regional, a trend we see in modern cuisine, too, but the localization at the time was due to scarce means of transporting ingredients. Some foods from the Victorian era endure today, such as oatmeal, roast beef, tomato soup, and mayonnaise. But others might seem as strange and outmoded as the horn on a victrola. Here’s a look at some bygone dishes from the Victorian table.
Nowadays, if squab is known at all, it’s known as the meat of a meticulously raised young rock pigeon, served as a rarified poultry component of an exclusive dinner. But in the 1800s, squab was a staple protein. That’s because the squab of previous eras was a different type of pigeon, one that was among the most abundant birds in the world: the passenger pigeon. Due to its tendency to fly in massive, densely packed flocks, the passenger pigeon was extremely easy to hunt, and represented freely available meat. Prized for its tenderness and often described in terms that suggest a ducklike quality (one historical source recounts it as “darker than the dark meat of a chicken” and “entirely without strong taste”), squab was prepared just about every which way: served in stews, roasted with salt pork, fried, baked in a pie, broiled, and served on toast.
In the wake of post-Civil War advancements in communication, such as the telegraph, and transportation, such as the railroad, a large-scale pigeon industry emerged, which saw professional hunters and trappers tracking and harvesting the flocks en masse. Sadly, the resulting combination of overhunting and habitat disruption led to a catastrophic decline in the passenger pigeon population. By 1900, the birds were too scarce to hunt; by 1914 the passenger pigeon was extinct.
Fricassee, a French loanword, is both the name of a dish and the cooking process used to create it. To fricassee a chicken is to first sauté it in fat, then stew it in a stock that is eventually thickened with flour. The result is a stewlike dish of tender meat in a light roux gravy. As is typical of stew and similar dishes, many variations existed: Sometimes tomatoes were added; sometimes dumplings; sometimes it was served with biscuits. The flexibility of the dish was part of what made it popular; fricassee was known to be a favorite dish of Abraham Lincoln.
A vegetable stew that has its origins in Indigenous cookery, succotash is an Anglicization of the Narragansett word msickquatash. The classic base of succotash is the trio of produce known in agricultural circles as the "Three Sisters": corn, beans, and squash. The dish had two main variants based on the season. During spring and summer, succotash was made with fresh corn and lima or string beans, while in winter it was made with dried corn and dried white beans. Both versions were cooked with butter or pork fat, and a little milk.
In the 20th century, succotash became a common commercial canned food product, and the dish became associated with bland and overcooked cafeteria mush — a far cry from its origins as a harvest meal. As a result, succotash fell out of favor as the century progressed, but 21st-century cooks have been rediscovering the appeal of the original made-from-scratch dish.
Today, raw oysters on the half shell are most often associated with upscale dining, but in the 19th century, oysters were a staple food, prepared in a multitude of ways. They were grilled, fried, roasted, stewed, baked in pies, even pickled. They were eaten in sandwiches, used as turkey stuffing, made into soups and sauces, or composed into dishes such as Hangtown Fry, an oyster and egg dish that, according to a 1933 cookbook, looked “like an egg pancake with oysters mixed in.” Oysters became so popular that by the late 1800s, households tended to keep specific plates for them — oyster plates had between four and six indentations in them, in order to cradle an oyster shell in place.
Because of their incredible abundance, the popularity of oysters transcended class — they were eaten by rich and poor folks alike. But oyster harvesting was not done sustainably. In New York City, which was considered the oyster capital of the world during the 19th century, pollution, landfill, and overharvesting compromised the oyster beds of New York Harbor to an extent that the oysters became inedible. The oyster beds were closed permanently by 1927.
In the 1800s, turtle meat was a protein most often associated with upper-class dining. Preparation for turtle and terrapin was labor intensive — Maude C. Cook’s 1887 cookbook Three Meals a Day contains directions for the laborious process, which required removing the shell. In part because of the difficult preparation, turtle was rarely eaten at home; the meat was most commonly served in a banquet setting. Another reason was the sheer size of the turtles, which averaged between 50 and 300 pounds. The typical preparation of turtle was in turtle soup, considered a delicacy throughout the 1800s.
Over time, overharvesting led to the endangerment and near-extinction of the terrapin, and Prohibition made it difficult to get sherry, which was considered an essential seasoning ingredient for turtle soup. While the popularity of turtle waned during the 1920s, it recovered after World War II, only to mostly disappear by the dawn of the 21st century.
Brown bread was a steamed puddinglike loaf made from rye, wheat, and molasses. Mainly popular in New England, the bread was an affordable food that took advantage of lower prices for rye and wheat in that region. Brown bread was prepared by steaming it in a can, which resulted in a cylindrical shape, and it was served sliced into rounds. Baked beans were the traditional accompaniment, and had been since colonial times. Though it’s rarely seen in other parts of the U.S., the dish is still a popular food in New England today.
From hearty steaks to sugary snacks, the culinary preferences of U.S. presidents have always fascinated the American public. That’s perhaps no surprise, as the quirks of presidential palates offer a unique glimpse into the personalities behind the Oval Office. And when it comes to comfort foods and guilty pleasures, be it FDR’s love of grilled cheese sandwiches or Ronald Reagan’s obsession with jelly beans, you might find that presidents are more like us than you’d think. Here are the favorite foods of 14 U.S. presidents.
Credit: Alex Wong/ Getty Images News via Getty Images
George Washington: Hoecakes With Honey
George and Martha Washington often hosted guests at their home at Mount Vernon, with large spreads laid out for hungry visitors. Washington’s favorite dish was surprisingly simple and reflected his farming roots: He loved hoecakes, a type of cornmeal pancake. According to Martha Washington’s granddaughter Nelly Custis, he preferred them “swimming in butter and honey,” and would regularly eat them for breakfast.
Thomas Jefferson's fondness for macaroni began during his time in France, and upon his return to America he imported a pasta machine to make his own. A recipe for macaroni written in Jefferson’s own hand still exists, and his instructions for creating something similar to modern mac and cheese is credited with popularizing the dish in the United States.
Abe Lincoln was known for his frugal eating habits, often to the dismay and concern of his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln. Some sources note his fondness for two particular dishes: chicken fricassee with biscuits, and oyster stew. But Lincoln’s favorite food might well have been apples, which, according to his friends, he ate with gusto on a daily basis.
William Howard Taft: Steak Breakfasts
William Howard Taft, who weighed 354 pounds when he took his oath of office, remains the heaviest person to ever occupy the White House. His weight owes much to his breakfast habits. According to his head housekeeper Elizabeth Jaffray, he began each day by eating a “thick, juicy 12-ounce steak” served alongside two oranges, buttered toast, and a “vast quantity of coffee, with cream and sugar.”
FDR’s White House was known for serving terrible food, due in part to First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt’s well-intentioned desire to show solidarity with regular Americans during the Great Depression. It was slim pickings for FDR, but he did very much enjoy classic grilled cheese sandwiches. He also liked hot dogs, which were infamously served to the visiting king and queen of England.
John F. Kennedy: New England Fish Chowder
JFK was particularly fond of soup, and New England fish chowder was a favorite. In 1961, a young girl named Lynn Jennings wrote to President Kennedy asking what he liked to eat. He promptly replied and passed along the recipe for his preferred fish chowder. Kennedy was also known to be a fan of waffles for breakfast; in fact, his family waffle recipe is preserved in the National Archives.
LBJ’s love of barbecue was legendary. In the 1950s and ’60s, he and Lady Bird Johnson hosted large Texas-style barbecues at their ranch along the Pedernales River in the Texas Hill Country. The president served brisket, ribs, and his favorite Texas-style chili to hundreds of guests from around the world.
Richard Nixon: Cottage Cheese and Ketchup
Richard Nixon was a cottage cheese devotee, initially as part of his diet regimen. It appears he grew to love the stuff and ate it on a daily basis, often alongside fresh fruit, wheat germ, and coffee. In one of the stranger presidential food combos, he also enjoyed his cottage cheese topped with ketchup and black pepper.
Gerald Ford preferred hearty, homestyle cooking. His favorite meal was a pot roast with red cabbage, followed by butter pecan ice cream for dessert.
Jimmy Carter: Cheese Grits
Jimmy Carter's Southern roots showed in his love of grits — especially cheese grits. In 1976, his daughter Amy toldThe New York Times, “Daddy makes grits for breakfast, then breaks a couple of eggs into it and adds some cheese, and it's yummy.” The family dog was even named Grits.
Ronald Reagan began eating jelly beans as part of his successful attempt to give up pipe smoking, but then his candy consumption became something of an obsession. While he was president, Reagan placed a standing order of 720 bags of jelly beans per month — that’s 306,070 total jelly beans — to be distributed among the White House, Capitol Hill, and other federal buildings.
George H.W. Bush: Pork Rinds
During his 1988 presidential campaign, George H.W. Bush expressed his love for pork rinds, which he at times enjoyed with a splash of Tabasco sauce. Sales of the fried pig skins soared, despite some sections of the media claiming his comment was nothing more than Bush attempting to appear down-to-earth, and that he actually preferred popcorn and martinis.
Before his heart issues and subsequent switch to veganism, Bill Clinton was famous for his love of fast food; he even took reporters on jogs to McDonald’s. He particularly enjoyed jalapeño cheeseburgers with lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, pickles, and onions.
George W. Bush: Cheeseburger Pizza
In 2007, White House chef Cristeta Comerford told reporters about George W. Bush’s fondness for a peculiar pizza topping. “For dinner,” she explained, “the president loves what we call homemade ‘cheeseburger pizzas’ because every ingredient of a cheeseburger is on top of a margherita pizza.” Soon after, the topping could be found in pizzerias across the nation.
The existence of ready-made food has been around for centuries, from ancient Rome’s takeout restaurants, known as thermopolia, to the bread, soup, and meat vendors that have populated the streets of metropolitan centers around the world since antiquity. However, the burgers, fries, wings, and milkshakes that constitute the typical fast-food meal today are a more recent invention — and a distinctly American one. Here’s a brief taste of how a colossal global industry took flight.
A direct predecessor of modern fast-food service were the automats that fed urbanites in the northeastern U.S. in the early 20th century. Essentially a self-service cafeteria, the automat featured rows of windowed compartments along its walls, from which hungry customers could retrieve an array of prepared dishes by depositing a coin. Introduced in Berlin, Germany, in 1895, this new form of casual dining made its way to Philadelphia in 1902 courtesy of restaurateurs Joe Horn and Frank Hardart.
The concept hit its stride after Horn and Hardart debuted their service in the busy New York City neighborhood of Times Square in 1912, and then expanded to more than 80 locations across the Big Apple and Philly. However, the popularity of the automat began to decline as city dwellers increasingly migrated to the suburbs after World War II, and the service slowly fizzled out over the following decades (though it saw a comeback amid the COVID-19 pandemic).
Credit: Win McNamee/ Getty Images News via Getty Images
White Castle Introduces the Hamburger Chain
As described in Adam Chandler's book Drive-Thru Dreams, a cook named Walt Anderson began churning out batches of small, square hamburgers from his stand in Wichita, Kansas, in 1916. Although Americans were leery of ground beef following the exposé of the meatpacking industry that featured in Upton Sinclair's 1906 novel The Jungle, Anderson eased those concerns by preparing his food in public view. Locals quickly took to the compact 5-cent burgers, later known as "sliders," and Anderson soon opened two more stands. In 1921, he teamed with real-estate broker Billy Ingram to open a fourth location in a building that resembled a small castle, a look that partly inspired the new eatery's moniker, "White Castle."
As burger stands began popping up with increasing frequency throughout the decade, Anderson and Ingram sought to distinguish their chain through the comfort of uniformity. Regardless of location, diners enjoyed burgers and coffee that were prepared in accordance to exact instructions, amid interior dining areas marked by white-painted walls, stainless steel counters, and identically dressed servers.
At the same time that Kansans were familiarizing themselves with the White Castle brand, Texans were being introduced to a new form of dining service. Visitors hankering for a pork sandwich or other barbecue fare from the Dallas-based Pig Stand didn't even have to leave their vehicles, as they were greeted by smiling carhops who were ready to order and retrieve meals for them. As mentioned in Drive-Thru Dreams, considering the number of cars on American roads grew from 9 million in 1920 to 23 million in 1931, it was only natural that drive-in restaurants became a staple across the American landscape in the following decades.
The next phase in driver-oriented dining came with the emergence of the drive-thru restaurant in the late 1940s. Although it's unclear exactly where this service first originated, credit is often given to Red's Giant Hamburg on Route 66 in Springfield, Missouri, in 1948. That year also brought the drive-thru to Southern California with the very first In-N-Out Burger, which began expanding to other regional locations in the 1950s.
Meanwhile, another change in the industry was underway. Richard and Maurice McDonald built a successful burger drive-in restaurant in San Bernardino, California, in 1940, but eventually sought enhanced efficiency for their business. By 1948, the brothers had gotten rid of carhops and short-order cooks, divided food preparation into individual stations, simplified their menu, and replaced dishes and glassware with disposable versions. This "Speedee Service System," as it was called, enabled the brothers to rake in even larger profits, and directly inspired competitors such as Keith G. Cramer, who opened the chain that became Burger King in 1953.
Around that time, the development of the Interstate Highway System and migration to the suburbs that hastened the demise of automats also ignited a fast-food boom that was no longer primarily centered on hamburgers. Colonel Harland Sanders, who began experimenting with a pressure cooker at his gas station eatery in the 1930s, started franchising his Kentucky Fried Chicken recipe to restaurants in 1952. Brothers Dan and Frank Carney introduced the first Pizza Hut in Wichita in 1958. Glen Bell switched from burgers to tacos in 1954, before launching Taco Bell in Downey, California, in 1962. And 17-year-old Fred DeLuca teamed up with nuclear physicist Peter Buck to open the sandwich chain that became Subway in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in 1965.
With so many options for consumers to choose from, fast-food entrepreneurs sought to expand their businesses both nationally and overseas. Early pioneers in the international space included KFC, which brought the colonel's secret recipe to Canadain 1955 and Mexico in 1963, and A&W, which cracked the Asian market with shops in Malaysia and Japan in 1963.
As the 20th century pressed on, the fast-food industry's major players pursued various marketing and promotional techniques to reel in more customers. The now-defunct Burger Chef was the first to offer a burger, fries, and drink combo meal after the franchise launched in the late 1950s. Burger Chef also proved ahead of the game with the debut of their food-and-toy "Fun Meal" for kids in 1973, although they were unsuccessful at blocking McDonald's from nationally rolling out the Happy Meal in 1979.
While the mid-Atlantic chain Rays Kingburger claims it became the first fast-food restaurant to offer breakfast in 1972, McDonald's had already been selling breakfast items at select locations. The fast-food giant then upped the ante by introducing the eggs Benedict-based Egg McMuffin sandwich in 1972, before unveiling its national breakfast menu in 1977.
Following the onslaught of advertising between McDonald's, Burger King, and upstart Wendy's that marked the "burger wars" of the 1980s, Wendy's created a model for smaller chains to follow by introducing a 99-cent value menu in 1989. McDonald's also established a menu trend in 1987 with the introduction of "supersized" meals that provided bigger portions, before discontinuing the option in 2004.
The death of the supersized meal was partly due to shifting public tastes that sought healthier choices for quick dining. While the innovators at Burger Chef offered salads as far back as 1974, and Wendy's debuted a salad bar in 1979, the major franchises largely delivered the same high-sodium and high-calorie content until the 2001 satirical film Fast Food Nation and Morgan Spurlock's 2004 documentary Supersize Me called attention to rising obesity rates and environmental problems caused by the production and consumption of this type of food. While most fast-food joints opted not to follow Burger King’s introduction of a vegetarian patty in 2002, an examination of 20 popular chains between 2004 and 2015 revealed industry-wide efforts to add healthier items to menus, particularly for children. And the rise of franchises such as CAVA, Veggie Grill, and Native Foods provided diners with an array of genuinely nutritious options for quick-service meals. Today, regardless of whether consumers seek a lower-calorie grilled chicken wrap or the old standby of burgers and fries, fast food remains as popular as ever, with this American contribution to the culinary industry accounting for $978 billion in global sales in 2023.
Spices have been central to human history since antiquity, influencing trade routes and economies along the way. But despite the rich array of flavors that have traveled the world, salt and pepper have emerged as the most popular seasonings in the Western world. Salt, an essential mineral, was once coveted for food preservation; pepper, a spice derived from dried peppercorn plant berries, used to be worth its weight in gold. Their popularity and ubiquitous inseparability have even led to their names being used as an adjective, as in “salt-and-pepper” hair. Here’s a look at how necessity, global trade, and culinary innovation helped salt and pepper become the two most common food seasonings.
Salt’s journey to dinner tables is rooted in its importance to human life. The natural mineral is crucial for maintaining hydration, nerve function, and muscle control in the body, among other things. Given salt’s essential role in survival, it’s no surprise that humans developed a taste for it. Early human diets were heavy in meat and naturally provided sufficient salt. But as nomadic hunter-gatherers settled into agricultural societies and diets started including more grains, supplementing salt became important. The resource, though naturally abundant, wasn’t always easy to obtain, and it became a highly sought-after commodity throughout expanding civilizations.
In ancient Rome, the production and transport of salt evolved into a major industry. Salt was highly valued and was even used as currency, with soldiers sometimes receiving their salarium, or wages, in salt — a practice that gave rise to the English word “salary.” (Sal is the Latin word for salt.) As European empires expanded and trade routes grew, so did salt’s reach, though it largely remained a necessity of food preservation and was used as a seasoning only by the wealthy. Throughout the Middle Ages, upper-class hosts even made sure their guests of honor were seated next to elaborate, expensive salt cellars at the dining table.
Around the same time, black pepper was experiencing peak popularity in medieval Europe. Native to India’s Malabar Coast, pepper was used in local cooking as early as 2000 BCE, but as trade networks expanded, the spice became highly prized in the Roman Empire, where it was as valuable as gold. Like salt, it remained a top commodity and a luxury for centuries throughout Europe due to difficulties importing it from tropical regions — as well as for its supposed medicinal properties. Black pepper was believed to aid digestion, ward off diseases, and treat ailments such as arthritis and gout.
By the mid-17th century, however, these medical beliefs were waning, and the spice trade shifted significantly as new imports such as coffee, chocolate, and tobacco entered the scene. Food preferences also changed, reflecting refinements in regional cooking, especially in France.
Historians trace the most likely implementation of salt and pepper into everyday cooking to the rise of French haute cuisine in the 17th century. French chefs such as François Pierre La Varenne, who contributed to the influential 1651 cookbook Le Cuisinier Francois (The French Cook), began reducing the amount of spices used in cooking, instead aiming to emphasize ingredients’ natural flavors. This style of cooking also introduced a clear separation between savory and sweet dishes in a meal. Salted foods were served first to stimulate the appetite, while sweet dishes were saved for the end to satisfy it. Pepper, one of the few spices that flavored food without overpowering the taste, didn’t work well with sweets — but it did pair well with salt, and both were relegated to a meal’s savory servings. This shift in French cuisine was a major influence throughout Europe, especially after the cookbook’s first English translation in 1652.
Much the same way pepper proliferated in Europe via land and sea routes, the spice and its culinary uses were introduced to the Americas through European colonizers. Salt, of course, was naturally occurring, but was made more easily available in the Americas with the arrival of colonial settlers and an influx of goods from European imports. Following the American Revolution, New York and Virginia became hotspots of domestic salt production, while Massachusetts emerged as an early-19th-century pioneer in the North American pepper trade. Both were in easy abundance for the early citizens of the United States.
By the early 20th century, most U.S. homes had refrigerators, and salt’s role as a food preservative had diminished — its primary role was in cooking. After anticaking agents such as magnesium carbonate were added to salt in 1911, salt shakers became practical and widely used. Salt and pepper had long been habitually used together, so pepper shakers appeared shortly after, and the pair’s status as everyday cooking essentials was cemented.
The mere mention of ancient Rome conjures up a multitude of powerful images: the assassination of Julius Caesar, legionaries marching in perfect unison, the alliance of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, gladiators fighting in the Colosseum. It was a time of power and conquest, of low scheming and high culture. It was also a time of feasting — something the Romans were known for, especially during Bacchanalia festivals, in which food and wine would flow with fervor. But what exactly did the Romans eat? Here are some of the most common foodstuffs that fed the hungry denizens of the Roman Empire.
Cereal grains, particularly wheat and oatmeal, were part of almost every meal in ancient Rome. These grains were typically used to make bread, biscuits, or porridge, and were eaten by the common folk, the upper crust, and soldiers in the Roman army. Roman porridge recipes survive to this day, including one in Cato the Elder’s De Agri Cultura, a treatise on agriculture written around 160 BCE, which happens to be the oldest remaining complete work of prose in Latin. The simple recipe, which isn’t dissimilar to modern counterparts, suggests soaking wheat in boiling water before adding milk to create a thick gruel — a staple dish that anyone in Rome could have prepared.
Seasonally available and locally sourced vegetables and beans were often served as accompaniments to Roman meals. Common vegetables included lettuce, cabbage, turnips, and leeks, while wealthier Romans could afford asparagus, mushrooms, and artichokes. Legumes such as broad beans, chickpeas, and lentils also played an important role in the Roman diet, providing substantial amounts of calories, protein, calcium, and iron to a diet that wasn’t nearly as meat-heavy as our diets today. A recent study found that Roman gladiators were mostly vegetarian, eating primarily wheat, barley, and beans.
As the empire expanded, the Romans discovered and embraced many varieties of fruits and nuts. The humble apple tree, for example, was introduced to many parts of the world after the Romans found it growing in Syria. They also cultivated pears, plums, apricots, and figs, as well as nuts — which were considered expensive treats — including chestnuts, walnuts, almonds, pistachios, and hazelnuts. Then, of course, there were grapes, which were eaten fresh, or — more importantly — turned into wine. The Romans loved to drink wine, which they diluted with a little water. Drinking wine neat was considered uncivilized, but not as uncouth as drinking beer, which was seen as simply barbaric.
The Romans did not typically drink milk, and doing so was largely frowned upon. They saw excessive milk drinking as evidence of barbarism, and even considered butter fit only for treating burns. (The Romans believed their ubiquitous olive oil to be far superior for cooking purposes.) They did, however, use goat and sheep milk to make cheese. Many farms produced cheese, and some wealthier homes had dedicated cheese kitchens. Roman soldiers were also familiar with the cheese-making process, including the use of rennet, and could produce the food while deployed abroad. The Roman author Pliny the Elder was indignant when considering the lack of cheese-making in what he saw as lesser civilizations, writing, “It is a remarkable circumstance, that the barbarous nations which subsist on milk have been for so many ages either ignorant of the merits of cheese, or else have totally disregarded it.”
Meat and fish were both considered luxuries in ancient Rome, and were primarily reserved for wealthier citizens. Pork was the most common meat, either cooked fresh (stewed or roasted) or turned into bacon. Fresh fish and seafood included tuna, eels, sea urchins, and other shellfish. During feasts, wealthy Romans sometimes ramped up their culinary creations to a whole different level. Dishes served at these extravagant events included pickled sow’s udders, stuffed dormice, bull’s testicles, and hares decorated with wings to resemble Pegasus.
Special mention has to go to one standout ingredient of ancient Roman cuisine: a fermented fish sauce called garum. Pliny the Elder described garum as “a choice liquor consisting of the guts of fish and the other parts that would otherwise be considered refuse.” Despite this unappetizing appraisal, he nonetheless called it an “exquisite liquid.” The Romans mass-produced garum in dedicated factories. Three common varieties were manufactured: a dark-colored condiment that was high in protein, a cooking sauce similar to Vietnamese fish sauces, and a milder version called muria. Roman diners sprinkled garum on all manner of savory dishes, providing a pungent umami to even the blandest of meals.
Sweet-toothed Romans, especially those with money to spend, could indulge in a variety of desserts. Baked goods such as honey cakes and fruit tarts were common, as were homemade sweets known as dulcia domestica, which included stuffed dates. One common dessert eaten throughout Roman society was libum, a type of honey cheesecake. Libum wasn’t only a tasty treat; it was traditionally made as an offering to the household gods, after which it could be enjoyed by all the family.
Much like fashion trends, culinary tastes have changed over time, and once-common dishes have given way to new ingredients, easier preparation methods, and more refined recipes. Desserts, in particular, have seen a rise in popularity over the centuries. Originally served alongside savory items on the dinner table, sweet dishes were moved to the final course of the meal in 17th-century Europe, and cookbooks dedicated to dessert recipes started appearing around the same time.
The affordability and availability of sugar during this era was largely responsible for this culinary shift, due to the work of enslaved people on colonial plantations in the Caribbean. As chocolate, coffee, and tea were introduced to Europe, demand for the sweet stuff increased as well. Sugar, which had previously been used sparingly as a preservative or to sweeten savory dishes, became the main ingredient in new recipes, leading to an endless array of possibilities for cakes, pies, and other sweet treats.
Here are seven old-fashioned desserts that were once commonly served, but are rarely seen today. While some of these foods may seem familiar as the recipes have been updated over the years to accommodate modern tastes, others are reminders of different times in history when people made do with what they had.
Dating back to Europe’s medieval era, mincemeat pie (or mince pie) was a finely chopped mixture of meat — traditionally mutton — along with dried fruit and spices. The spices and natural fruit sugars helped preserve the food as well as overpower the flavor of meat on the verge of spoiling. By the end of the Victorian era, the primary ingredients of mincemeat pies were fruit, spices, and beef suet, a hard animal fat. While they’re not very common in the U.S. today, mincemeat pies are still a popular Christmas dessert in the U.K., and vegetarian pies are readily available.
The earliest recipe for tomato soup cake dates back to 1922, and some accounts say the dessert was popular among Irish immigrants in New England. The can of condensed tomato soup the recipe calls for yields a moist red-orange cake that doesn’t taste like tomatoes at all, thanks to the cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg in the mix. This unusual spice cake was popular through the 1930s and 1940s, when Depression-era and wartime shortages called for culinary creativity. People sought out affordable substitutes that could stand in for pricier ingredients (such as tomatoes) without sacrificing flavor. In the 1940s, the Campbell Soup Company began experimenting with variations on the tomato soup cake recipe and, in 1960, printed a version on its tomato soup label — the first recipe to appear on a soup can.
Shoofly pie is a molasses-based pie with a crumbly, streusel-like topping. No one knows for sure how the pie got its name, but it might be from the fact that its sweet and sticky surface tends to attract flies, or from an early brand of molasses called Shoofly Molasses. According to some sources, the recipe for shoofly pie dates to 1876, originating with a crust-free molasses cake called centennial cake that was served to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia. Other sources attribute the recipe to the German immigrants of Pennsylvania Dutch country in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, who may have used molasses in a variation of an older British recipe known as a treacle tart. This sweet and crumbly pie is still popular among the Amish and Mennonite communities of Pennsylvania and Ohio.
Before carrot cake, there was carrot pudding. A recipe in the 1591 English cookbookA Book of Cookrye describes carrot pudding as a savory pudding made of chopped liver, breadcrumbs, spices, dates, and sugar that is then stuffed inside a hollow carrot. By the 18th century, carrot pudding had evolved into a sweet dessert baked in a pastry shell, similar to pumpkin pie. Another variation called steamed carrot pudding was made with shredded carrots and potatoes and steamed in a gelatin mold.
Fruitcake dates back to the ancient Romans, who made a mash of barley, dried fruit, honey, and wine to sustain their soldiers in battle. During the early medieval era, it evolved into European yeast breads such as stollen and panettone, which were packed with candied citrus and alcohol-infused dried fruits. The cakelike version that became popular in the U.S. arrived with the British colonists. Preserving fruits for winter fruitcake involved cutting fruit into small pieces, boiling it in sugar syrup, tossing it in granulated sugar, and allowing it to dry. These candied fruits could then be baked in a spiced cake batter. There are dozens of variations on fruitcake, with some recipes calling for the cake to be baked weeks in advance and then brushed weekly with liquor or simple syrup. Though fruitcake is still around, it’s rarely made anymore and ranks as one of the least popular holiday desserts.
Also known as “jumbals” or “jumballs,” jumbles are a type of butter cookie that predates the modern sugar cookie. Historians believe the recipe originated in the Middle East and may have been introduced to Europe by Muslims in Spain and Portugal before it was brought to the New World by 16th-century explorers. Made from butter, sugar, eggs, and flour, jumbles were flavored with rosewater or spices, and then shaped into thick rounds or knots before being baked or boiled. Because they traveled well and could be stored for months, they remained popular for centuries, with dozens of recipe variations. Four jumble recipes, including “lemon jumbals” and “almond jumbals,” are included in Martha Washington’s family cookbook, Booke of Cookery.
Though it was a popular Depression-era dessert, vinegar pie dates back to the 19th century. Mimicking the tartness of lemons, this sweet and tangy pie could be made all year long by substituting apple cider vinegar for citrus, which was expensive when out of season. As one of several so-called “desperation” or “make-do” pies, vinegar pie could be made from a handful of staples that home cooks usually had on hand. Other desperation pies included buttermilk pie, chess pie, and even water pie.
Thomas Jefferson’s complicated legacy encompasses his roles as an American founding father, the principal author of the Declaration of Independence, and the third President of the United States. Jefferson was also an enthusiastic foodie, with a willingness to try new cuisine and an interest in kitchen gadgets. He particularly enjoyed ice cream, a dessert he likely encountered during his time in France from 1784 to 1789. And while Jefferson did not introduce the young United States to ice cream — the frozen treat was served in the American colonies as early as 1744 — he certainly helped popularize the dish, and he is the first known American to write down a recipe for it.
Jefferson’s ice cream recipe is one of only 10 surviving recipes in his handwriting. It’s unlikely that the President created the recipe himself; the original source was likely his French butler, Adrien Petit. Still, Jefferson was fond enough of the creamy dessert to write down the recipe and ship pewter ice molds back from France.
While the founding father’s ice cream recipe is simple to make, the tools used in the early 19th century aren’t in common use today. For instance, the “sabottiere” ice cream maker (also spelled “sabotiere”) that Jefferson references was a lidded metal bucket within a larger wooden bucket. Today’s ice cream makers have similar components, but are easier, faster, and less laborious to use. Likewise, the ice cream molds that Jefferson had shipped from France are mostly obsolete today, replaced by silicone popsicle molds and pint- or quart-sized containers.
The website for Jefferson’s Virginia home, Monticello, includes both Jefferson’s original ice cream recipe and an updated version by Jefferson historian Marie Kimball. To make Jefferson’s ice cream, my son and I stuck as close to the original recipe as possible, improvising when necessary. For instance, to bring the ice cream mixture to boiling, we used a large skillet on a gas stovetop rather than an open fire. And instead of straining it “thro’ a towel,” we used a metal sieve.
Though the process took considerably longer than we expected — and longer than Jefferson himself suggested (see the note at the end of the article) — the end result was rich, creamy, and delicious!
2 bottles of good cream. 6 yolks of eggs. 1/2 lb. sugar
mix the yolks & sugar put the cream on a fire in a casserole, first putting in a stick of Vanilla. when near boiling take it off & pour it gently into the mixture of eggs & sugar. stir it well. put it on the fire again stirring it thoroughly with a spoon to prevent it's sticking to the casserole. when near boiling take it off and strain it thro' a towel. put it in the Sabottiere then set it in ice an hour before it is to be served. put into the ice a handful of salt. put salt on the coverlid of the Sabotiere & cover the whole with ice. leave it still half a quarter of an hour. then turn the Sabottiere in the ice 10 minutes open it to loosen with a spatula the ice from the inner sides of the Sabotiere. shut it & replace it in the ice open it from time to time to detach the ice from the sides when well taken (prise) stir it well with the Spatula. put it in moulds, justling it well down on the knee. then put the mould into the same bucket of ice. leave it there to the moment of serving it. to withdraw it, immerse the mould in warm water, turning it well till it will come out & turn it into a plate.
(Modern version here, adapted by historian Marie Kimball)
Advertisement
Advertisement
Photo Credit: Kristina Wright
Gathering the Ingredients
First we gathered our ingredients and supplies. Jefferson’s recipe calls for just five ingredients: sugar, egg yolks, a pinch of salt, cream, and vanilla. But the ice cream-making process requires a number of kitchen supplies, as well as ice and salt, which lowers the freezing/melting point of water. To duplicate Jefferson’s process, I needed to purchase a metal pail, a larger wooden bucket, a large fine sieve, and ice cream “molds,” which were silicone ice cream containers. I also bought a large container of rock salt, as it reacts better with the ice than table salt.
Photo Credit: Kristina Wright
Blending the Eggs and Sugar
In a large bowl, we whisked six egg yolks, then added 1 cup of sugar and a pinch of salt, creating a thick, bright-yellow mixture.
Jefferson’s recipe calls for a “stick of Vanilla,” referring to a vanilla bean, from which we get the more familiar vanilla extract. I made a slit in the vanilla bean before heating it with the cream in order to release those tiny seeds that give vanilla ice cream its speckled appearance. (It also smells amazing!)
The recipe also calls for “2 bottles of good cream,” but doesn’t specify the quantity in the bottles. For this step, we relied on Marie Kimball’s updated version of the recipe and used 1 quart of heavy whipping cream (which is the same as heavy cream).
Advertisement
Advertisement
Photo Credit: Kristina Wright
Pouring the Hot Cream and Vanilla Over the Egg and Sugar Mixture
Once the cream and vanilla reached boiling, we took the pan off the stove and slowly poured the cream over the egg and sugar mixture. Then we gently stirred it until the ingredients were well blended before returning the mixture to the pan.
Photo Credit: Kristina Wright
Boiling the Ice Cream Mixture
Kimball’s version of Jefferson’s recipe calls for using a double boiler to heat the ice cream mixture, but we stuck with a single pan, stirring constantly to prevent scorching. After a few minutes, the mixture began to thicken, taking on a custardy texture that smelled like vanilla cake. Once the mixture reached boiling, we took it off the heat.
For the straining step, I intended to use cheesecloth to simulate Jefferson’s towel method, but due to the potential for a literal hot mess, I opted to use Kimball’s recommendation for a fine sieve. Straining the ice cream mixture like this allowed us to catch the small bits of egg and vanilla bean, leaving the ice cream mixture silky smooth.
Advertisement
Advertisement
Photo Credit: Kristina Wright
Putting the Mixture Into the Ice Cream Maker
In place of Jefferson’s “sabottiere,” we poured the strained ice cream mixture into a lidded metal pail, filled the whiskey barrel with an ice and rock salt mixture (per Kimball’s instructions), and then turned the pail at regular intervals, stirring the ice cream mixture occasionally as it slowly began to cool and freeze.
Photo Credit: Kristina Wright
Molding the Ice Cream
After two hours, the ice cream had cooled and thickened to a milkshake consistency. Jefferson’s recipe calls for the ice cream to be packed into ice molds, which were hinged pewter containers in the shape of flowers, fruit, and other decorative objects, but we used a quart-sized silicone ice cream container instead. In retrospect, I wish we’d used popsicle molds, as the smaller containers would have made the ice cream freeze faster.
Once the ice cream was in the container, it took another two hours to thicken to soft-serve consistency. We could have eaten it then (and we did taste test it!), but we wanted the ice cream to hold its shape when scooped. Since most of the ice in the whiskey barrel had melted at this point, we decided to put the container in our modern freezer overnight.
After freezing overnight, the ice cream was hard-packed and scoopable! Creamy, pale-yellow, and speckled with vanilla bean, it was the richest ice cream we’d ever tasted.
Note: One line of Jefferson’s recipe reads, “Then set it in ice an hour before it is to be served.” The actual time to freeze using his method took several hours just to get to soft-serve consistency. This could be due to the size and shape of the containers we used, but it still seems unlikely that it could be done in an hour, even using Jefferson-era ice molds.