Mrs. Goodfellow

by Becky Diamond

  The similarities between Raffald and Goodfellow are striking, from their talents as pastry chefs and fine cooks to their shrewd marketing of goods and services, including sharing their knowledge of pastry making by offering classes from their shop locations.

  Unlike Raffald, Mrs. Goodfellow never published a cookbook. It is possible she had written down some of her recipes for her own use that are now lost, but nothing has ever been found. Fortunately, her recipes and cooking methods were well-preserved by her most famous pupil, Eliza Leslie. Leslie's father died when she was just seventeen, and to support her family, Leslie's mother Lydia opened a boardinghouse in Philadelphia in 1808. It has been surmised that Eliza started taking classes at Mrs. Goodfellow's cooking school in order to assist her mother with the meals at the boardinghouse. While there she took detailed notes of the lectures, and at her brother's urging, had the recipes published in a cookbook entitled Seventy-five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes and Sweetmeats, which became very successful.92

  According to food historian William Woys Weaver, Eliza Leslie's published “notebook” is really the first hard evidence of the kind of information that was being taught in cooking schools at that time. These recipes show up in manuscript and printed cookbooks from all over the country, not necessarily because they were lifted from Eliza Leslie, but because girls like Leslie went to Goodfellow's school. They then took these recipes back to Kentucky, Charleston, South Carolina, or wherever they were from.93

  Leslie became a successful author, writing several more cookbooks, many with recipes learned from Mrs. Goodfellow, as well as etiquette guides for young women. She became known as Miss Leslie and also published some literary works (which was her true desire), including juvenile stories, fiction, magazine articles, and editorial pieces.

  While Leslie made a few mentions of Mrs. Goodfellow and her successful techniques in her books, she did not take advantage of Goodfellow's notoriety by attributing the recipes to the famed “Goodfellow School of Cooking,” which would have provided a boon for its marketing. Perhaps Mrs. Goodfellow asked Leslie not to mention her in her books, or maybe Eliza felt she should take credit since she was doing all the work of compiling the receipts.

  One can imagine Mrs. Goodfellow would not have had much time to write down recipes between keeping her shop and her cooking school running smoothly. Perhaps she just didn't have the desire to publish a book on her own. She was a businesswoman, after all, not a writer. She preferred to stay behind the scenes. Another factor could have played a part—it has been conjectured that the two women were actually related.94

  However, one of Goodfellow's students did capitalize on her name and reputation, publishing a cookbook in 1853 (two years after her death) entitled Cookery as It Should Be, which the author claimed represented the finest receipts and procedures taught at the Goodfellow school of cookery.95 A later edition published in 1865 was called Mrs. Goodfellow's Cookery as It Should Be: A New Manual of the Dining Room and Kitchen, with Mrs. Goodfellow herself actually listed as the author.

  It has never been determined who the real author is, but according to Weaver, Cookery As It Should Be was definitely published by someone who was not Eliza Leslie and not Mrs. Goodfellow, but was probably a graduate of Mrs. Goodfellow's cooking school, likely hailing from the southern United States. He feels the book takes advantage of the Goodfellow name and products, and it was published after she died so she was not around to sue.96

  Eliza Leslie mentions this book with a negative tone, pointing out that a number of the recipes were not in the style of Mrs. Goodfellow. For example, some call for newfangled leavenings that began to be used as rising agents in the nineteenth century, such as pearlash (potassium carbonate, refined potash obtained from wood ashes), saleratus (an early form of baking soda), and baking soda. But Mrs. Goodfellow was so concerned about using only fresh ingredients that she would have nothing to do with any of these “chemicals,” as she thought they imparted an artificial taste to baked goods. She continued to use yeast and beaten eggs to make her products light and airy even when these other baking aids were available and being used by her contemporaries.

  To leaven cakes using eggs as the rising agent, air must be beaten into the eggs to produce a mass of air bubbles called a foam. The expansion of the air bubbles during the baking lightens the cake—a “mechanical” leavening as opposed to the chemical leavening of baking powder.97 Of course, in the nineteenth century this was a long and tedious process as the beating was done by hand using several eggs. Timing as well as the equipment used were important; if the eggs were not beaten correctly (especially the yolks), the cake could end up heavy, tough, and streaky with an “eggy” taste.

  Eliza Leslie wrote in her book The Lady's Receipt-Book: A Useful Companion for Large or Small Families, “In making cakes it is of the utmost importance that the eggs should be properly and sufficiently beaten; otherwise the cakes will most certainly be deficient in the peculiar lightness characterizing those that are made by good confectioners. Cakes cannot be crisp and light without a due proportion of the articles that are to make them so; and even then, the ingredients must be thoroughly stirred or beaten; and of course thoroughly baked afterwards.”

  Her specific, step-by-step instructions continue, reflecting the notes copiously and carefully taken while she was a student under Goodfellow's tutelage:

  Persons who do not know the right way, complain much of the fatigue of beating eggs, and therefore leave off too soon. There will be no fatigue, if they are beaten with the proper stroke, and with wooden rods, and in a shallow, flat-bottomed earthen pan. The coldness of a tin pan retards the lightness of the eggs. For the same reason do not use a metal eggbeater. In beating them do not move your elbow, but keep it close to your side. Move only your hand at the wrist, and let the stroke be quick, short, and horizontal; putting the egg-beater always down to the bottom of the pan, which should therefore be shallow. Do not leave off as soon as you have got the eggs into a foam; they are then only beginning to be light. But persist till after the foaming has ceased, and the bubbles have all disappeared. Continue till the surface is smooth as a mirror, and the beaten egg as thick as a rich boiled custard; for till then it will not be really light. It is seldom necessary to beat the whites and yolks separately, if they are afterwards to be put together. The article will be quite as light, when cooked, if the whites and yolks are beaten together, and there will then be no danger of their going in streaks when baked. The justly-celebrated Mrs. Goodfellow, of Philadelphia, always taught her pupils to beat the whites and yolks together, even for sponge-cake; and lighter than hers no sponge-cake could possibly be.98

  Mrs. Goodfellow also knew the benefit flavorings could bring to her products. The use of these flavorings and spices would have helped overcome any eggy taste that dared assert itself. Lemon was especially useful for this purpose. Indeed, the Queen Cake recipe from Eliza Leslie's Directions for Cookery advises stirring in twelve drops essence of lemon after beating ten eggs very light and mixing with the flour,99 and her sponge cake instructions require beating twelve eggs with lemon “for a long time” before folding in the flour.100 This idea continued even into the twentieth century, with a 1932 issue of American Cookery Magazine recommending adding the juice of half a lemon to the eggs after beating moderately, and then allowing the mixture to stand until it thickens before using in the cake in order to eliminate any overpowering egg flavor.101

  In addition to incorporating lemons in her recipes, Mrs. Goodfellow also used rosewater and orange flavoring, and took advantage of spices such as nutmeg, allspice, cloves, ginger, and cinnamon. These spices would be freshly grated or pounded fine for greatest impact—packing more of a punch than the powdery and often stale-tasting bottled versions lining the shelves of grocery stores today.

  Wines and spirits can also add flavor, as well as helping baked goods rise. Many of her recipes call for brandy, which cleverly reacts with the gluten and causes a chemical reaction with the other ingredients
to create a subtle new taste.102 Another reason brandy was used was to keep cakes from growing moldy, and this preservative was one more way to effectively mask the taste of too much egg.103

  Goodfellow also advocated the use of New World ingredients, helping pave the way for the establishment of an “American” cuisine. Amelia Simmons is considered the first American woman to promote home-grown foods such as corn, pumpkins, and cranberries in her 1796 book American Cookery. Many of Simmons's recipes were copies of those printed in The Frugal Housewife by British cookbook author Susannah Carter, but others substituted American products for those that were typically British—such as making pudding with cornmeal instead of oats. Thus began the melding of English culinary traditions with New World foods, creating an “American” style.104

  Continuing the trend, Mrs. Goodfellow incorporated these and other foods native to the United States in her recipes. Her Indian Pound Cake recipe, which utilizes Indian meal (known today as cornmeal), was one of her signature dishes and appears frequently in nineteenth-century Philadelphia manuscript cookbooks.105

  INDIAN POUND CAKE

  Eight eggs; the weight of 8 in sugar-the weight of 6 in

  Indian meal sifted, 1/2 lb of butter, one nutmeg grated or

  one teaspoonful of cinnamon, stir the butter and sugar to

  a cream, then put the meal and eggs alternately into the

  butter and sugar, grate in the nutmeg and stir all well;

  butter a tin pan put in the mixture and bake in a moderate oven.

  (Source: Bellah, Manuscript Recipe Book, 40, Independence National Historic Park Library)

  References to Goodfellow and her products in nineteenth-century texts provide additional insight into her character. An 1851 article about the Paris Hippodrome mentions that when horse riders from the Philadelphia circus were sent to Paris to perform their tricks, their remarkable skills were likened to an art form. The author then continues, “Another branch or school of Philadelphia Art might succeed here—Mrs. Goodfellow's pastry-cooking, whose cocoanut pudding, for example, is equal to the best inspiration of suicidal and immortal Vatel.”106 This zealous comparison to the famous seventeenth-century French chef shows just how highly she and her products were regarded.

  Other literature highlighted the culinary prowess that society required of young women, with comparisons to Goodfellow being the gold standard. A short story by journalist Timothy Shay Arthur in 1871 was written twenty years after her death, showing that comparisons to Goodfellow continued even into the late nineteenth century. In the sketch, a young bride has difficulties producing appetizing food, much to the dismay of her new husband (and mother-in-law). Determined to please them both, the bride buys a cookbook which she studies intensely. Soon she is serving fragrant tea, hot biscuits, and cream toast which pass inspection with flying colors. In the author's words, “Even Mrs. Goodfellow herself could not have surpassed them.”107

  Although much mystery surrounds Mrs. Goodfellow and her private life, it is known that she was highly respected in and around Philadelphia for her fine cakes and baked goods as well as her cookery school. The foundation for her success in all these domains? The choicest ingredients.

  TWO

  Ingredients

  Philadelphia, 64 Dock Street

  Wednesday, September 20, 1815

  5:45 A.M.

  Eliza Goodfellow quickly pulled on her soft gray cloak and tied its hood snugly under her chin. She handed her eleven-year-old son Robert a small basket, and then grabbing one herself, shut the heavy wooden door behind them and set out to do the day's marketing. She could have sent Mary in her place, but she was choosy about her ingredients and liked to make her own selections as often as possible.

  Just a little light was beginning to show as the sun was slowly making its rise on the horizon. A few seagulls squawked overhead, and she looked up briefly to see them circling the wharf area where dozens of tall ships lined the harbor. Tied to the masts were colorful flags from nations around the world, waving in the breeze. Sailors shouted to each other in the distance as they unloaded crates of imported goods in addition to the day's local fish and produce.

  The sights and sounds fascinated Robert, and he paused for a moment to survey the scene. He longed to linger, but Eliza was on a tight schedule and she firmly grasped his hand to urge him along. Plenty of other people were also heading toward the markets, as the merchants were allowed to begin selling their wares at 6 A.M., signaled by the chiming of the Town Bell. By arriving early, these first shoppers knew they could choose from the crispest, most brightly colored fruits and vegetables and the freshest eggs, meats, and cheeses.

  The odors of the Dock Street area were not kind to its residents—the fishy harbor tang mixed with a slightly malty scent from several nearby breweries and the musty, foul-scented tanneries—and Robert crinkled his nose in disgust. But to Eliza, who was used to spending her days indoors dashing between her busy shop and basement kitchen, the outside air felt slightly cool and crisp, a sure sign of autumn's imminent approach, and she savored the experience. It was likely to be the only fresh air she would be exposed to all day.

  She welcomed the fall season as it provided not only a bounty of produce from local Pennsylvania and New Jersey farms, but also refreshing relief from the stifling heat and humidity that often engulfed the city in the summer. Her shoes made light clicking noises on the stone footpaths as she and Robert briskly headed down Dock Street toward the High Street marketplace, passing rows of identical red brick houses, ranging in height from two to four stories. The walkways were lined with rows of buttonwood, poplar, and willow trees, which were both pretty and practical, shading the paths from the sun when it was hot.

  In typical Philadelphia style, the narrow, rust-colored brick buildings were accented with large windows topped with keystone lintels and flanked by heavy wooden shutters, painted black, white, or green. The floors at the very top featured attic dormer windows that marked the garret rooms where children or servants usually slept, which were uncomfortably hot and stuffy spots during the summer months. Many shopkeepers used the upper floors as living quarters and the lower levels as places of business. Those shops lacking signs advertising their trade were distinguished from residences by their showy multi-paned bulk windows or drop-leaf shutters on the ground floor which displayed their products.

  As Eliza and Robert hurried along, they noticed some businesses had already extended the lower half of their shutters, allowing air to circulate within, while also providing open-air product placement, and Robert caught a pleasant whiff of freshly baked bread as they passed a baker's shop. These were the early versions of modern retail stores, allowing residents to window shop. The open shutters' upper half also helped cut the glare from the sun as it rose higher in the sky and shielded goods from rain during inclement weather.

  As Dock Street curved into Second Street, they walked past the City Tavern, a popular meeting place for Philadelphia notables, including merchants, politicians, and businessmen. A large cloth awning protected its front steps from sun and rain. Later in the day, a steady clientele of men would be streaming in and out as they all hoped to catch the latest news. Like many of the other buildings, angled wooden planks marked the bulkhead entrance doors to the underground cellar, which stood open as workers unloaded casks of wine and goods, causing Eliza and Robert to steer clear of the bustling activity.

  Next door, the white marble-faced Bank of Pennsylvania1 building seemed to glow in contrast to the ruddy brick structures surrounding it. Built in the Greek Revival architectural style that became popular at the turn of the nineteenth century, it looked like an ancient temple, with six Ionic-style columns gracing both the front and back of the building, supporting large porticos. At the top sat a circular dome with a rounded roof that housed a huge lantern; the banking room was located in a rotunda directly underneath.

  As they approached the High Street area, home to many of the wealthier merchant population, the buildings be
came even more ornate. Some of the wooden front doors were topped by a pitched roof overhang and a bit of fancy scrollwork and adorned with polished silver knockers and handles. Many of the white marble steps leading to these entrances were bordered by decorative wrought iron railings. In front of a few houses, women were scrubbing steps, doors, and windows, as per the daily Philadelphia custom of keeping these front entrances immaculately clean.

  Robert liked to spot the hitching posts, which were often more elaborate in this part of the city, with fluted iron shafts topped with a swan shape or a horse's head instead of the common plain round or square wooden posts.

  The gable roofs of the market houses soon came into view, and Robert strained to get a better look, tugging at his mother's hand. Supported by sturdy brick columns, they were open on both sides and lined the middle of High Street for about six blocks to form a central covered building. As they approached the entrance, the stalls were already buzzing with activity. The lanterns suspended from the high arched roof overhead gave off a cozy light. The sellers had already spread clean white cloths over the counters and then stacked and prepared items for sale, each seeking to create the most appealing display. Shelves between the columns were filled with a variety of local and imported goods, including breads, flour, spices, coffee, and tea. Cuts of meat, small game, and fowl hung from racks on iron hooks. Along the curbs, farmers had parked their canvas-covered wagons containing an abundance of garden-fresh produce and dairy items.