Mince Pies – Where’s the Beef?
Last week's venture into the wonderful world of Greggs steak bakes turned my mind to pies. And with us being in the month of December, I suppose that even a dyed in the wool, bah humbug type must permit discourse on the topic of Christmas. So consider this. Go into a butcher's and ask for mince, and you'll be given finely chopped beef. Pop into the baker's next door and ask for a mince pie, and you'll receive a sweet treat. Why?
For once we can't directly point the finger at the Victorians and Prince Albert and their reshaping of Christmas. Mince pies have been around for ever, at least from the 15th century, and probably before. The word mince, of course, simply means to chop up very finely. Mincemeat is short for minced meat, and it must be remembered that the first part of the OED definition of meat reads, food in general, anything used as nourishment for men or animals. In the USA they avoid our confusion by referring to our mince as ground beef.
The records which exist of early pies describe great elaborate affairs, made in grand kitchens for banquets and feasting. Bear in mind that very few houses would boast an oven. If you were a rich family entertaining your peers, the natural tendency was, (and probably still is to an extent) to show off. The most obvious display of ostentation is by the ingredients you use. Forget your Beluga caviar. Just make sure that your chef used copious amounts of sugar, spice and all things expensive. It is odd to our 21st century eyes to read recipes from hundreds of years ago and note the regular juxtaposition of savoury and sweet.
There would have been more traditional pies as well but by the late Tudor times these sweet and savoury versions were becoming more associated with Christmas. Known at one time as shred pies, the name evolved into minced pies, then just to mince pies. These were still very much beefy affairs. In the 1861 edition of her Book of Household Management, Mrs Beeton gives a recipe for mincemeat. Yes, it has the usual suspects, raisins, currants, candied peel etc; however, for 5lbs of raisins and currants it calls for 4½ lbs of lean beef and beef suet. Food historian Annie Gray tells us that where quantities are given in old recipes the fruit to meat ratios tend to be about 50:50. The Beeton recipe also included 1 pottle of apples, a pottle being half a gallon.
These days, we tend to think of mincemeat as being a preserve akin to jam. Earlier references are to a fermented mixture. Odd, as it can't be both. Delia Smith points out that in the past people found it difficult to store, the reason being that the apple juice tended to ferment. She still uses the recipe which she first wrote in 1974. What happened between 1861 and then?
It appears to be the case that in the latter half of the 19th century less and less meat was being used, though suet always seemed to be a component part. Later editions of Beeton had a range of recipes for mincemeat, all bar one with no meat at all. Our Delia herself is something of a food historian, and her recipe bears a remarkable similarity to that of 19th century cook Eliza Acton, a lady well ahead of her time. In the notes to her recipe, Delia stresses the importance of the suet and a slow bake in a gentle oven. Done that way, the suet gradually melts and coats all the ingredients, sealing in the juices and avoiding the fermentation issues. The dish can be made vegetarian friendly by using vegetarian suet, whatever that is.
It's not something I've ever made. Having several thousand calories worth of Christmas puds maturing nicely in a pantry, I figured that was quite enough. The recipe isn't that hard, and Ms Smith swears that once you've made your own, you won't go back to shop bought. You'll find her version on her website at https://bit.ly/49fMiRY. If you do try it, let me know how you get on.
You will of course find those who want to improve on tradition. Annie Gray cites examples such as marmalade (of which she approves), and banana, chocolate and caramel, of which she does not. Obviously not to the taste of many; however, as Annie concludes, ...if the long history of mincemeat proves anything, it is that nothing (except bad pastry) should be off the table.
I commend to you Annie Gray's excellent At Christmas We Feast - Festive Food Through the Ages reviewed in this column last year.
Great story – I enjoyed that. I’m making mine this year with a dash of J Gow Rum from Orkney. J Gow was the worst pirate (& who thought it was Jack Sparrow!)
Thanks, Wendy. Have a fun festive season.