Unless we happen to be historians, it is easy to muddle together in our minds Christmas celebrations of the Colonial period with the nineteenth century Dickensian version featuring an enormous roast goose, flaming plum pudding, and presents around the candlelit tree. Christmas in Williamsburg, Virginia in the mid-1700s was much more solemn an occasion and rather low key compared to modern expectations.
Shopkeepers and tradespeople, farmers and servants would mark the occasion with church services and perhaps a tasty venison pie or savory rabbit stew. Gifts were reserved for Boxing Day, December 26th but were generally simple remembrances for family and friends, and practical gifts of new clothing and hams for servants, both free and enslaved. It was largely a spiritual season, with true merriment commencing with Twelfth Night, which featured dancing and the imbibing of spirits.
Understandably, the socially elite could afford to celebrate in a more indulgent fashion, according to Frank Clark, Master of Historic Foodways for The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation (CWF). “In the Governor’s Palace, family and guests who had gathered for the Christmas holiday would break their fasts with a cup of hot chocolate, very fashionable among the gentry at the time,” he says. Expensive as it was, with time chocolate would become less dear and more democratized due to lower tariff rates in the colonies. At the time of the Revolutionary War, there was one commercial chocolate maker in Britain and nearly seventy in the thirteen colonies.
Traditionally, within the Governor’s Palace a light repast was served before Christmas church services in anticipation of the main event, a bountiful feast at two in the afternoon. “The meal began with the governor seated at the foot of the table, and his lady at the head,” Clark shares, “with the guests’ proximity to him arranged in descending order of status. The table would be laden with artfully crafted dishes, at least one for every person present, including meats of every description, plus numerous side dishes of vegetables and desserts.”
First came what was called ‘removes’, soup and fish portioned and passed by the host and removed by the servants when consumed. Everyone was then expected to serve themselves from the nearest food on the table, then pass that plate to the right, not stopping until their original plate reappeared before them filled with a portion of every dish. When the family and guests finished eating, servants would again clear the table and whisk away the soiled cloth, the first of several layers of pristine linens, to make ready for the next course.
At this point, it was customary for the assembled guests to take a refreshing break, maybe seeking out a secluded chamber pot or stretch a bit, because soon would come a fresh bounty of lighter foods. Sweets were snugged alongside savory dishes and salads as part of this course. Naturally this display was of the highest quality, with inventive and expensive spice-infused ingredients and clever presentation. “After all,” Clark states, “the purpose was to show off and impress with an overt display of wealth and was, ultimately, meant to be proof of England’s great power.” The dinner would inevitably end with syllabubs (a frothy, sweet, alcoholic indulgence), candied ginger, and nuts, after which ladies retired to the parlor and drank tea, and the gentlemen broke out the pipes and rum punch for toasting everyone from the king on down to the magistrate’s dog. If one could stay awake, the rest of the afternoon would pass with both men and women playing cards, making light conversation, dancing and enjoying musical entertainment, all the while bracing oneself for supper, which would consist of anything left over from dinner.
“I can’t overstress the popularity of syllabubs in Colonial times,” Clark says. “Every dinner at the Palace would include this item, not just Christmas.” The syllabub is an eighteenth century dessert consisting of cream treated with an acid, usually citrus juice, and mixed with wine. The different types of syllabubs are based upon their mixing style. Once placed in serving glasses, syllabubs separate into a two-part mixture when the cream rises, and the clear liquids sink. When served on glass pyramids or salvers, they became the showy centerpiece of the table.
SYLLABUB
Eighteenth Century Recipe:
Take a quart and a half a pint of cream, a pint of Rhenish, half a pint of sack, three lemons, near a pound of double refined sugar; beat and sift the sugar, and put it to your cream; grate off the rind of your three lemons, and put that in; squeeze the juice of the three lemons into your wine and put that to your cream, then beat altogether with a whisk just half an hour; then take it up altogether with a spoon and fill your glasses; it will keep good nine or ten days, and is best three or four days old; these are called the everlasting Syllabubs.
—Smith, Eliza,
The Complete Housewife, 1753.
Twenty- First Century Version:
Note: These are the syllabubs most often seen when visiting the Governor’s Palace kitchen. For something different, place a tablespoon or so of red wine in your glasses before spooning on the cream mixture. Once the separation occurs, you will have a blush liquid on the bottom that will contrast nicely with the white cream on top.
Syllabub
Ingredients:
- 3 cups of heavy whipping cream
- 1 cup white wine (Rhine Wine or a Chablis)
- 1/2 cup golden sherry
- 1 ½ lemons (juice and peel)
- 1/4-1/2 cup sugar
Instructions :
In a large mixing bowl, grate the lemon peel and juice the lemons. Add the wine and sherry to the lemons, then add sugar and whisk until sugar is dissolved.
Add the cream all at once and whisk until it is light and frothy or to a peaking consistency.
Gently fill your glasses. The mixture will separate in about two to three hours at room temperature. Once separated, they can be put into the refrigerator until consumed. If they go directly into the refrigerator, they will take six to eight hours to separate.
Pork was available year-round thanks to salting and smoking methods of preservation, but the colder months in the calendar meant that fresh pork was also often on even the humblest table, particularly for special occasions such as Christmas and Twelfth Night. This recipe is similar to a fricassee in that the meat is partially cooked and then finished in a sauce. However, par-cooking in a seasoned liquid prior to the frying and stewing adds an incredible depth of flavor and complexity using a few simple ingredients.
PORK CUTLETS
Eighteenth Century:
Cut them from the fillet, put them in a stew pan with a clove of garlic, a bundle of thyme and parsley, pepper and salt, cover them with water and let them stew ten or fifteen minutes, then lay them on a dish. When cold, cover them well with the crumb of stale bread finely grated, mixed with the leaves of parsley chopped very small, some pepper, salt, and grated nutmeg; press these on the veal (pork cutlets) with a knife, and when a little dried, turn it and do the same to the other side; put a good quantity of lard in a pan, when it boils lay the cutlets in carefully that the crumbs may not fall, fry them a little brown, lay them on a strainer to drain off the grease, do the same with the crumbs that have fallen in the pan; while this is doing simmer the water they were boiled in to half a pint, strain it and thicken it with four ounces of butter and a little browned flour; add a gill of wine and one of mushroom catsup, put in the cutlets and crumbs, and stew till tender; add fried forcemeat balls if desired.
— Randolph, Mary, The Virginia Housewife
Twenty First Century:
Pork Cutlets
Ingredients:
- 4-6 pork cutlets
- 3 cloves of garlic, crushed
- 2-4 cups water
- 2 cups breadcrumbs
- 3-5 sprigs of fresh thyme and parsley, plus
- 3 tablespoon of fresh parsley, minced
- Salt and pepper
- ½ tsp. fresh nutmeg
- Lard or vegetable oil for frying
- ½ cup red wine
- ½ cup Worcestershire sauce
- 4 ounces butter
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
Instructions :
Combine the water, garlic, and sprigs of thyme and parsley in a sauté pan and stew for 15 to 20 minutes until the meat begins to turn grey. While the meat is stewing, combine the breadcrumbs, minced herbs, salt, pepper and nutmeg in a shallow dish.
When the meat is partially cooked, place the cutlets into the seasoned breadcrumbs. Press them down so the crumbs adhere to the meat. Repeat for the other side. Continue to press the meat into the breadcrumbs until well coated. Place the breaded meat into the refrigerator to dry while the stewing liquid is being reduced.
Melt the butter in a pan on low heat, add the flour and combine into one solid mass. Set aside.
Continue simmering the stewing liquid until the volume is reduced to about a cup. Strain out the particles and return the liquid to the pan and add the butter/flour mixture to thicken.
Add the Worcestershire sauce and red wine. Stir until combined, and the sauce is smooth and coats the back of a spoon. Taste the sauce and correct the seasoning with salt and pepper. Cover the pan and reduce the heat to a low simmer.
Fry the chilled and breaded meat in a frying pan with lard or a vegetable oil of your choice. When the cutlets are browned on both sides, place them into the simmering sauce. Cover the pan and continue to cook on moderate heat for 15 to 20 minutes.
Try this recipe for a simple yet delicious vegetable side dish.
CARROTS DRESSED THE DUTCH WAY
Eighteenth Century Recipe:
Slice the carrots very thin, and just cover them with water, season them with pepper and salt, cut a good many onions and parsley small, a piece of butter; let them simmer over a slow fire till done.
— Glasse, Hannah, The Art Of Cookery Made Plain And Easy
Twenty First Century:
Dutch Carrots
Ingredients:
- 2 medium onions
- 6 large carrots
- 4 tablespoons of butter
- 1 teaspoon fresh parsley
- Salt and pepper
Instructions :
Peel and thinly slice carrots and chop onions and place in a pot. Add salt, pepper, water, and butter. Cook for 15-20 minutes. Once cooked through, strain off any extra water.
Add parsley and serve.
A sweet tooth is something we have in common with our ancestors, and sippet pudding would be a practical yet indulgent way to conclude our own holiday feast. Sippets are small pieces of fried, toasted, or baked bread that were often cut into fanciful shapes used as garnishes and served with soups or gravy dishes back in Mother England. The Colonies enjoyed sippets in many forms, including as a tasty way to use up bread that had turned hard. Although the name has fallen into disuse, present day bread pudding lovers will smack their lips at this recipe, which can best be described as a layered bread pudding with a hard sauce. Simple but hearty, it combines basic ingredients to make a dish that is rich and satisfying. The sauce is the crowning touch.
SIPPET PUDDING
Eighteenth Century:
Cut a loaf of bread as thin as possible, put a layer of it on the bottom of a deep dish, strew on some slices of marrow or butter, with a handful of currant or stoned raisins; do this until the dish is full; let the currants or raisins be on top; beat four eggs, mix them with a quart of milk that has been boiled a little and become cold, a quarter of a pound of sugar, and a grated nutmeg — pour it in, and bake in a moderate oven — eat it with wine sauce.
— Randolph, Mary, The Virginia Housewife
Twenty First Century:
Bread Pudding
Ingredients:
- A large round loaf of French or Italian bread
- ¼ pound of butter
- ½ cup of dried currants or raisins (currants are sweeter)
- 3 eggs
- 2 cups of milk
- ½ cup sugar
- 1 teaspoon grated nutmeg
- For Sauce: ½ stick butter, ¼ cup white wine, ¼ cup sugar
Instructions :
Grease a 9” pie plate or layer cake pan. Slice the bread rather thin with a serrated edge knife. ¼ inch thick is nice. In the bottom of the plate/pan make one layer of bread slices, then put some butter pats on top, then strew some currants or raisins over that. Repeat that process until your plate/pan is full.
In a bowl whip the eggs and blend in the warm milk, sugar and nutmeg until sugar is dissolved. Carefully pour this over the bread mixture in the plate/pan until it soaks into the bread without overflowing.
Bake in a 375-degree oven for 25 to 35 minutes or until the bread is browned, and you can touch the top, and it springs back. For the sauce combine the sugar, wine and butter in a saucepan and stir it over medium/high heat until thick and drizzle over the finished pudding.
If these recipes inspire you, visit the Colonial Williamsburg website https://www.colonialwilliamsburg.org/learn/recipes/ to further explore the eighteenth century version of what a holiday feast looked like. “Everybody is interested in food,” Frank Clark says. “We have an instant connection with our guests at Colonial Williamsburg the moment they step in the kitchen. We reach their hearts through their stomachs,” he says with a laugh. “I hope you’ll try some of these very traditional recipes at your own holiday gathering and, as always, we wish you all the happiest and healthiest of season!”
DECKING THE HALLS
Have you ever wondered what it takes to decorate Colonial Williamsburg’s Historic Area, Merchants Square and Colonial Williamsburg resorts so beautifully for the Christmas season? Here’s just a quick glance:
- 80 Christmas trees
- 11,400 feet of pine bough roping (2.16 miles)
- 85 cases of fresh fruit
- 600 bunches of dried flowers
- 375 bows
- 1,100 white pine and Fraser fir wreaths
More than 300 wreaths, swags and apple fans decorated by hand adorn 150 buildings in the Historic Area, and over 750 candles shine every night in the windows of its buildings. Colonial Williamsburg first introduced the tradition of decorating the buildings along Duke of Gloucester Street for Christmas during the early days of the Restoration. The Historic Area decorations you see today are a continuation of what began in the Colonial Revival period of the late 1930s. These decorations were, and still are, comprised of fresh greens and natural materials which could be foraged, collected, or obtained in Williamsburg in the eighteenth century. Even for the wealthy, however, citrus fruit and pineapples would be quite expensive, so rarely used as decoration. According to Cheryl Griggs, Director of Interior Design for CWF, “The decorations used on the exterior of the hotels and buildings in Merchants Square are traditional but not confined to materials available in the eighteenth century. While the red bows and warm white LED lights that embellish trees, wreaths and the swags of garland adorning building facades are in keeping with the architecture and appropriate for commercial properties, they would be out of character for the Historic Area.”