#whitebait

Following my first attempt at this historic English dish, I discovered a period recipe that is surprisingly more helpful in elaborating the serving and preparation: Bregion and Miller's Practical Cook.

I blended some salt and pepper into my flour, influenced by Annette Yates' Traditional English Recipes, and I also brought my cooking fat to 375F (approximately) using her instructions for hot oil. I happen to have lard on hand for other historical recipes, and it was convenient for me since my local supermarkets only sell lard in gigantic tubs.

Removing excess flour in a colander, and checking on my hot lard with an electronic thermometer.

I was probably too conservative with the flame, but in the absence of a way to regulate the temperature I was worried about burning the lard. 375F is over the smoking point of many fats and oils, and actually over the smoke point of lard, according to this chart. But I didn't have any issue with it smoking; if anything the addition of the fish brought the temperature down too low.

Ebullition commenced!

I do not have a 'fish-drainer' for the serving plate (whatever that is), but the fact that the recipe calls for one made me think of an artifact recovered from the Franklin expedition ships: a meat draining dish. (See Visions of the North blog for more information).

They just really loved draining things in 1845, what can I say.

For the iced punch, I absolutely cheated with a non-alcoholic fruit punch from the store (I suppose I could pour some brandy in there to make it more 1840s). Bregion and Miller have several punch recipes in the Practical Cook, including this one for a spiked lemonade:

A whitebait dinner at Greenwich drawn in 1860 by John Leech, an English caricaturist who also illustrated Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol (Wikimedia Commons)

Marryat, in his 1840 novel Poor Jack, traced the popularity of whitebait dinners to the early 19th century:

...before steam-boats made Greenwich so come-at-able, there were many families of distinction who resided there and in its environs especially in the autumn of the year, when the river offered such amusement. It was just at that period that the white-bait parties became so much in vogue, and Greenwich was considered a pleasant retreat for a few months by many of the fashionable world.

The title character, who is a poor mudlarker in his early life, mentions that the well-heeled patrons of these parties were a source of income as they waited for their dinner in river-side taverns:

There were other ways by which money was to be obtained during the summer season; which were from the company who used to come down to the white bait parties at the Ship and other taverns. There were many other boys who frequented the beach, besides me; and we used to stand under the windows, and attract attention by every means in our power, so as to induce the company to throw us halfpence to scramble for. This they would do to while away their time until their dinner was ready, or to amuse themselves and the ladies by seeing us roll and tumble one over the other.

— Frederick Marryat, Poor Jack

(Yes, Marryat spells it as both white-bait and white bait in the same book—this is another reason why book critics roasted him).

For a recipe, I turned to Annette Yates' English Traditional Recipes, quoted above, which is a beautiful, well-illustrated book filled with cultural notes and careful instructions. Her 'Deviled Whitebait' calls for cayenne pepper, which I imagined would improve the taste of the frozen imported whitebait that I used as a raw material.

You know you married the right woman when you open up a box of frozen tiny fish and she calls them cute. (I think my wife also enjoyed the finished product even more than I did!)

Allowing my whitebait to thaw overnight in the refrigerator, I rinsed them and followed Yates' simple recipe: dipping the fish in milk, coating them in flour seasoned with black pepper, salt, and cayenne pepper, and deep-frying them in small batches. They are to be served very hot, and dusted with additional cayenne pepper.

I was leery of all the hot pepper—and the irony of this deadly heat coming from a book called English Traditional Recipes—but it was sound advice. I'm usually not a fan of lemon juice on seafood, but it was very good on the whitebait. Tartar sauce was also very good, but once the whitebait cooled down they were less appetizing. According to Yates, fried whitebait “were once so plentiful that they were sold from barrows in the streets.”

Another John Leech drawing, this one from 1853 (source). Did the dinner at Greenwich in honour of Charles Dickens and attended by Captain Marryat resemble this gathering? The poet and author Thomas Hood wrote that he declined a leading role, and “Captain Marryat presided instead. On his right Dickens, and Monckton Milnes, the poetical M.P., on his left, Sir John Wilson,” and he lists a number of other writers, artists, politicians, and minor celebrities of his day in attendance.[3]

References:

[1] Tom Pocock, Captain Marryat: Seaman, Writer, and Adventurer p. 169 (2000)

[2] Annette Yates, English Traditional Recipes: A Heritage of Food and Cooking, 2015 edition pp. 49, 90 (I should have paid more attention when she wrote that whitebait have "bold flavours", i.e. they are fishy)