Piccalilly – revisited
For over ten
years now I have been ‘collecting’ and comparing Asiatic recipes in the recipe books
of 18th Century Dutch ladies and cookbooks. A fascinating collection of curries, sambals
and achars. Sometimes a detail in these recipes springs to the eye. Then again,
a certain ingredient triggers you. And sometimes it’s a combination of both.For instance
the three achars I found, the Indonesian word atjar phonetically written as
Aathiar, Aathia, Aazia and such. But there is a second handle to these recipes:
Tjamparade, Cola and, more interesting: Lely or Leylie, or Lelie, or Lily, or Lilli, or Lillo.
years now I have been ‘collecting’ and comparing Asiatic recipes in the recipe books
of 18th Century Dutch ladies and cookbooks. A fascinating collection of curries, sambals
and achars. Sometimes a detail in these recipes springs to the eye. Then again,
a certain ingredient triggers you. And sometimes it’s a combination of both.For instance
the three achars I found, the Indonesian word atjar phonetically written as
Aathiar, Aathia, Aazia and such. But there is a second handle to these recipes:
Tjamparade, Cola and, more interesting: Lely or Leylie, or Lelie, or Lily, or Lilli, or Lillo.
Achar
originally is a Persian word meaning ‘pickling in vinegar’. The word and
recipe migrated to India and Sri Lanka and from there to other Asian countries.
The first part of the recipe is no problem. But the additions? The first two
can be explained quite simply. Tjamparade is of course tjampoer, or campur,
meaning mixed. Thus, Atjar Tjampoer, or Aathiar Tjamparade stands for Mixed Pickles.
And the Aathia Cola is also called Aathia van Kool, meaning Achar made of
Cabbage (Kool). So what about Aathia Lelie (lily), there are no lilies in this
recipe I find on the first pages of the recipe book of Haasje Fabricius, née
Van Notten (1767-1844), that she well may have inherited from her mother.
originally is a Persian word meaning ‘pickling in vinegar’. The word and
recipe migrated to India and Sri Lanka and from there to other Asian countries.
The first part of the recipe is no problem. But the additions? The first two
can be explained quite simply. Tjamparade is of course tjampoer, or campur,
meaning mixed. Thus, Atjar Tjampoer, or Aathiar Tjamparade stands for Mixed Pickles.
And the Aathia Cola is also called Aathia van Kool, meaning Achar made of
Cabbage (Kool). So what about Aathia Lelie (lily), there are no lilies in this
recipe I find on the first pages of the recipe book of Haasje Fabricius, née
Van Notten (1767-1844), that she well may have inherited from her mother.
Reading her
recipe carefully, I discover that it is probably a kind of piccalilli. And I
start to explore the English sources on this subject. Starting of course with
Sue Shephards, ‘Pickled, potted and canned’,
2000. She tells me that it was the first Indian pickle to conquer England, at
the end of the 17th Century. One recipe dates from 1694: To pickle Lila, an Indian Pickle. It
describes a sauce with salt and vinegar, spiced up with pepper, garlic, mustard
seed and curcuma. Vegetables named are cabbage, cauliflower, celeriac and
others. So far, so good, but still, I have no primary source. I decide to mail
Sue and ask whether she still remembers where she found this fascinating
recipe. And I’m lucky, among the four possible sources she gives me, I meet
Lady Anne Blencowe, born in 1656, daughter of a Math professor in Oxford. In
1675 she marries John Blencowe, who inherited Marston Hall a year before. Most
well-educated young ladies in Anne’s time collected recipes in a notebook and
so did Anne. When exactly she added To
Pickle Lila, an Indian Pickle we don’t know, but she got the recipe from Lord
Kilmory. Here the trail peters out, I cannot find any connection between India
and Lord Kilmory, or any mentioning of a recipe collection at Kilmory.
recipe carefully, I discover that it is probably a kind of piccalilli. And I
start to explore the English sources on this subject. Starting of course with
Sue Shephards, ‘Pickled, potted and canned’,
2000. She tells me that it was the first Indian pickle to conquer England, at
the end of the 17th Century. One recipe dates from 1694: To pickle Lila, an Indian Pickle. It
describes a sauce with salt and vinegar, spiced up with pepper, garlic, mustard
seed and curcuma. Vegetables named are cabbage, cauliflower, celeriac and
others. So far, so good, but still, I have no primary source. I decide to mail
Sue and ask whether she still remembers where she found this fascinating
recipe. And I’m lucky, among the four possible sources she gives me, I meet
Lady Anne Blencowe, born in 1656, daughter of a Math professor in Oxford. In
1675 she marries John Blencowe, who inherited Marston Hall a year before. Most
well-educated young ladies in Anne’s time collected recipes in a notebook and
so did Anne. When exactly she added To
Pickle Lila, an Indian Pickle we don’t know, but she got the recipe from Lord
Kilmory. Here the trail peters out, I cannot find any connection between India
and Lord Kilmory, or any mentioning of a recipe collection at Kilmory.
The puzzle
remains: why lilly (or lila, or lillo) in piccalilli? The solution seems to lie in the word lehya, a
category of foods that are meant to be licked, one of several food
classifications (see etiquette). In medical parlance it came to have the connotation
of a medicated paste or viscous liquid. (…), according to K.T. Achaya in A
Historical Dictionary of Indian Food, 1998.
remains: why lilly (or lila, or lillo) in piccalilli? The solution seems to lie in the word lehya, a
category of foods that are meant to be licked, one of several food
classifications (see etiquette). In medical parlance it came to have the connotation
of a medicated paste or viscous liquid. (…), according to K.T. Achaya in A
Historical Dictionary of Indian Food, 1998.
So, it means ‘something
of a viscous nature to be licked
according to Indian etiquette’. That reminds me of the meaning of chutney, or chatny. Also a
condiment to be licked. What does the Indian etiquette book tell us? On a leaf
several types of food are presented, each with a particular texture and taste
and way of eating (with your fingers, or to be licked) to value the food
properly.
of a viscous nature to be licked
according to Indian etiquette’. That reminds me of the meaning of chutney, or chatny. Also a
condiment to be licked. What does the Indian etiquette book tell us? On a leaf
several types of food are presented, each with a particular texture and taste
and way of eating (with your fingers, or to be licked) to value the food
properly.
When the English
settled in India chutney was one of the first things to be exported to Patria,
England. Usually this was mango chutney, mildly spiced and conserved in sugar syrup.
Recipes for chutneys also can be found in late 17th Century cookery
books, like John Evelyn’s Acetaria, 1699. But what do you call these wonderful
new recipes? Evelyn decides on ‘mango’ as common denominator instead of
chutney. So, you’ll find a recipe for a mango of cucumbers. More like an achar
than a chutney, and nothing to do with mango. Europe was very much in the
experimental stage at that time re Indian
cuisine.
settled in India chutney was one of the first things to be exported to Patria,
England. Usually this was mango chutney, mildly spiced and conserved in sugar syrup.
Recipes for chutneys also can be found in late 17th Century cookery
books, like John Evelyn’s Acetaria, 1699. But what do you call these wonderful
new recipes? Evelyn decides on ‘mango’ as common denominator instead of
chutney. So, you’ll find a recipe for a mango of cucumbers. More like an achar
than a chutney, and nothing to do with mango. Europe was very much in the
experimental stage at that time re Indian
cuisine.
My
conclusion at the end of the day is: Nothing romantic about piccalilli, it’s
just a pickle to be licked, a pickle in a thickened sauce. That fits wonderfully
with the mixed pickle and the cabbage pickle. No wonder the 18th
century ladies chose fancy names for their exotic dishes!
conclusion at the end of the day is: Nothing romantic about piccalilli, it’s
just a pickle to be licked, a pickle in a thickened sauce. That fits wonderfully
with the mixed pickle and the cabbage pickle. No wonder the 18th
century ladies chose fancy names for their exotic dishes!
The
picture was taken in the experimental kitchen of Kesbeke Tafelzuren in
Amsterdam, where CEO Oos Kesbeke and I tried out Haasje’s
recipe for Aathia Lely. Lots of work, but the result: delicious!
picture was taken in the experimental kitchen of Kesbeke Tafelzuren in
Amsterdam, where CEO Oos Kesbeke and I tried out Haasje’s
recipe for Aathia Lely. Lots of work, but the result: delicious!
First published: 20120904