meringue – Deja Food

Floating Islands

Confession Time: When it comes to recipe history, I’m afraid I’m bit of a “Well, actually…” person.

I’ll read some guff online about a recipe ‘backstory’, or some offhand comment not being sufficiently respectful of a British recipe, or even another country’s claim to something that originated in the UK and I really have to exercise great self control in order to refrain from leaving a comment beginning “Well, actually…”.

Then again, sometimes I just can’t help myself, and I’ll make a blog post, and so here we are at the dessert topic of Floating Islands.

The initial thing I take issue with, is Wikipedia’s assertion that “The earliest known English-language reference to a floating island is in The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy (1747)”. As will be shown below, the recipe is much older than that. What they probably meant was ‘first published in English’, because I have found a slew of manuscript recipes (OK, so it’s six. Is six a slew?) predating this claim, some stretching back well into the seventeenth century. Now you might quibble that manuscript recipes are not the same thing at all, and therefore don’t count, but these manuscripts have been dated, verified, digitised and made freely available online for over a decade, so *snaps fingers impatiently* get with it, Wikipedia.

The most delightful aspect of these early recipes is that they are much easier to make than the custard/poached meringue/caramel version of modern times. For such a simple dessert, there’s a lot of stress involved in making a lump-free custard, making shaping and poaching meringues so that they look neat and don’t collapse, making a caramel that doesn’t taste burnt, not to mention all the time it takes do do all of the above. Contrast this with, no exaggeration, if you have the ingredients to hand, you can serve up your dessert in 12 minutes – and that’s including 10 minutes of your kitchen gadget machine doing the whisking.

Floating Island recipe attributed to Lady Anne Cholmley (1637-1705), in MS3341, Wellcome Collection.

The earliest Floating Island recipe I have found dates from 1675, and is attributed to Lady Anne Cholmley (1637-1705). Lady Anne married Sir Hugh Cholmeley, 4th Baronet (1632 – 1688) in 1665, so this recipe attributed to her married name, appearing in a manuscript dated to 1675, fits the dating very well, and the “My Lady” honorific suggests the author was personally acquainted with Lady Anne herself.

As already mentioned, this recipe is very quick and easy to prepare: fresh currant juice, sugar, egg-white and a little gum dragon (gum tragacanth), whisked together and served floating on a dish of fresh cream. It is very similar to the Dairy-Free Cream already published on this blog. I particularly like the later annotation that “This way you can make of any other fruit a cream” at the bottom. Gum tragacanth is still used in recipes today, giving durability in decorative sugarwork. However, in this recipe, it is employed to give structure (due to the liquidity of the juice). I had some in the cupboard (because of course I did) and tried using it in the recipe, but compared to the other methods, it didn’t appear to have a significant effect. Plus you have the extra Faff™ of having to soak it overnight to make a paste before proceeding.

Mrs Tyndale’s Floating Island of codlings, circa 1690-1750, Ms V.a.680, Folger Shakespeare Library

Mrs Tyndale’s Floating Island recipe is dated a little later ( circa 1690-1750), and uses apple pulp of codlings (cooking apples) instead of the fruit juice.

Floating Island, from an anonymous manuscript, dated 1700, MS1811, Wellcome Collection.

This version, from a manuscript dated 1700, offers yet a third variation of Floating Islands: Raspberry and apple jelly is stirred into egg-white and left overnight. The following day it is whisked over hot water until thickened, and then served in spoonfuls on a dish of raw cream. This is how Dairy-Free Cream is made, and using fruit juice already sweetened and set into a jelly, rather than straight fruit juice, gives the resultant foam a much longer ‘shelf life’. As can be seen on the Dairy-Free Cream post, I left the whipped foam on the counter top – for SCIENCE! – and it holds it shape, albeit slightly deflated, for over five hours. Great if you need to prepare your dessert in advance.

Floating Island recipe from 1720, MS Wb.100, Folger Shakespeare Library

This recipe returns to the apple pulp version, albeit with a much smaller proportion of pulp. There’s proportionally rather a lot of sugar, but the addition of the lemon juice can balance that out. This version is leaning towards another classic British dessert, Apple Snow, an ethereal confection with which to treat any guests who have a sensitivity to dairy produce.

Molehill Cream or Floating Island recipe from the manuscript book of Mrs Frances Rawson, 1734, MS7747, Wellcome Collection

This particular recipe highlights one of the difficulties of old recipes – the names. Luckily, in this instance, the author has given us two names, one of which is Floating Island, but imagine if they had not? And this isn’t an isolated incident. The same recipe can be known by many different names all over the country. Conversely, the one name can refer to sometimes drastically differing dishes depending on location. In addition to all of the recipes listed here, other fruit/sugar/egg-white mixtures I’ve read have had the titles Irish Cream, Currant Cream, Spanish Butter, Blossom Cream and the very impressive The Rock For A Dessert (below). There are no doubt many more variations out there, for what is essentially the same recipe.

The Rock for a Dessert recipe, a version of Floating Island using apple pulp, 1760, MS1813, Wellcome Collection

And finally, the last of the slew of pre-1747 Floating Island recipes, dating from 1741, is another apple-pulp-based version.

Floating Island recipe, 1741, Ms499, University of Leeds Library, Special Collections

It’s interesting to note that the ingredients have, in general, moved from currant juices and jellies in the 17th centuries, to fruit-pulp-based versions in the 18th centuries.

Choose Your Own Floating Island Adventure!

The best version of this fruity cloud delight is the one for which you have the ingredients to hand, so I thought I’d offer a few suggestions and then you can make an informed choice.

Egg-whites : You can use fresh, by all means – most people have eggs on hand, and all you need is a single large egg-white to make enough billowy clouds of fruit meringue to serve up to 8 people. The downside of this is that the lack of cooking might not be something everyone enjoys, plus you now have a solitary egg-yolk to keep/use. The solution is, of course, to use pasteurised eggwhites in a carton. Everyone’s happy and no pesky yolk to clutter up the fridge.
Sugar : White, granulated or caster sugar is my recommendation. It adds sweetness but without impacting the delicate pastel colour of the whipped mixture. Some of the above recipes add sugar to the cream, but I feel this is unnecessary, and the cool richness of, say, double cream is a great counterpoint to the ethereal nature of the whipped meringue.
Fruit juice vs fruit pulp : Both are delicious. The deciding factor to consider should be, how long until I serve it? If you are serving it immediately, then fruit juice is fine. When whipping up (no pun intended) the versions for the photos, I thought I’d make them all first, then photograph. But by the time I was on the third batch (so 15-20 minutes after finishing the first batch), the first batch was already collapsing. The fruit pulp gave the finished meringue more body, and a slightly longer standing ability.
Fruit jelly : If you need to have some time between making your dessert and serving it, using a fruit jelly is optimal – the juice has already been sweetened and set, and is therefore much better at holding it’s shape when whisked. You can also warm and then sieve jam.
Which fruit? : Honestly? Almost any. The main guideline here is that it should be tart/sharp. As can be seen in many of the recipe above, using lemon juice can add the necessary acidity if needed. Gooseberries, rhubarb, apricots (jam), and for jellies – all colours of currants, raspberries, quince, cooking apple, cranberry, pomegranate. Even though the meringue is sweetened with sugar, you still want to be able to taste a hint of sharpness.

Floating Islands

This recipe is a general guide, in that you can substitute whatever fruit/jam/jelly/juice you have. It makes a large volume, but it disappears in a puff, so you can serve giant portions to four, or more elegant servings to eight. Another idea I had that might appeal, would be a ‘flight’ of islands, each one flavoured differently, all floating on a sea of cream. Garnish with fresh fruit and berries if liked, but I must say, I prefer the simplicity of just fruit cloud and cream.

1 large/40ml egg white
100g/ml sharp fruit puree/juice/jelly/sieved jam
50g white sugar (omit if using jelly/jam)
Juice of half a lemon (optional)

To serve
Double cream
sugar (optional)
Fruit garnish (optional)

Put all of the ingredients, except the cream, into a bowl, or the bowl of a stand mixer and whisk for 10 minutes.
Sweeten the cream if liked.
Portion out the meringue onto your serving dishes and pour round the cream. Some of the recipes above say to pour the cream first, but having tried that myself, it makes it very difficult to then place the meringue neatly. Much better to add the meringue to the dry plate and then pour round the cream.
Garnish with fruit if liked.

Close-up images from the top picture.

- With white currant juice.
- Black currant juice.
- Cranberry jelly. Yeah, don’t do this. I only tried it because I picked up cranberry jelly at the supermarket by mistake instead of redcurrant jelly (they were next to one another on the shelf). The colour was deep, but the flavour was just not there. Probably something to do with the gelling agents used in manufacture. Home-made cranberry jelly might be worth trying.
- Bramley Apple pulp.

Apple Snow

17th century, 18th century, 19th century, 20th century, Pudding

This recipe is more usually served in the late summer and autumn months, but I’ve chosen it now because the weather outside today has carpeted the garden with a thick layer of snow.

This is a classic dessert whose provenance stretches back centuries. Although the name ‘Apple Snow’ is the one more usually found in modern recipe books, it can also be found under the name Apple Fluff, Apple Souffle, Apple Puff and this version, Apple Cream Without Cream.

This last was found in a manuscript from the 17th century, held by The Wellcome Library. The manuscript has been attributed to the splendidly named Mrs Deborah Haddock, who sounds as if she should be the twinkly-eyed star of stories set in a small, quaint fishing village.

It is elegant in its simplicity, requiring only apple pulp, an egg-white and a little sugar. It is also, thanks to modern kitchen gadgetry, prepared incredibly swiftly, requiring less than ten minutes to come together before serving, once the initial preparation has been completed.

Apple Cream Without Cream, aka apple Snow, c1675, MS7892, Wellcome Library Collection

Choice of Fruit

This recipe can be made with any apple you have to hand, either keeping a purity of flavour with a single variety, or mixing and matching in a clearing-out-the-fruit-bowl, waste-not-want-not kind of way.

One of the manuscript recipes I read recommended green apples as being the best, but failed to elaborate any identifying characteristics beyond colour. I prefer to use Bramley apples, for the pale insides and sharpness of taste. Other varieties you might like to try include Worcester Pearmains, which have dazzlingly white flesh that tastes faintly of lemon and rough-skinned Russets that have an almost nutty flavour.

Alternatively, you could follow the recommendation in the recipe above and try this with gooseberries.

Apple Snow

This recipe tweaks the original slightly with additions found in other versions. In terms of quantity, it will make a visually impressive amount, but is so light and delicate, a full glass is still only a relatively small amount. It will hold its shape for two hours or so, but can be mounded in more impressive heights if served immediately after preparation.

Serves 4 – 8

5 Bramley apples, or apple of your choice.
juice of 1 lemon
2tbs cream sherry (optional)
4tbs caster sugar
1 large egg-white

Peel, core and chop the apples finely. Toss them in the lemon juice as you go, to prevent them from discolouring.
Add the apple and lemon juice to a saucepan with the sherry, if using.
Cover and cook over medium-low heat until the apples soften and turn to froth.
Mash the apples to a pulp, then sieve to remove all lumps. Chill until required.
Whisk the egg-white until it will stand in soft peaks. Set aside.
Put 250ml chilled apple pulp into a bowl and whisk on High for 2-3 minutes until pale and fluffy.
Add the whisked egg-white and continue whisking, adding in the sugar one spoonful at a time.
After 2-3 minutes the mixture will have both increased in volume and become dazzlingly white.
Taste and whisk in more sugar if needed.
Spoon or pipe into glasses and serve with some crisp biscuits on the side.
If you have apple pulp spare, you could spoon a little of it into the glasses before adding the apple snow.

Shaping Meringues

19th century, 20th century, Biscuits, Small Cakes

I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with meringues. On the one hand they are extremely simple to make, with just two ingredients, but on the other, for the most part, they are almost universally blobby. Not such a defect, you might think, but it doesn’t help the elegance of a dish when one’s natural inclination is to the rustic.

So armed with one of my favourite baking books, I decided to experiment with trying to impose some order on these feather-light and versatile confections.

There are three basic types of meringue, which have come to be identified as French, Italian and Swiss, based mostly on how the sugar is treated in the mixing.

French meringue is the classic, with the egg-whites being whipped to soft peaks, before caster sugar is gradually added, then whisked to stiff peaks. This is a versatile meringue in that you can bake it by itself in blobs and nests an kisses or use it to top sweet-filled pies and tarts. However, it is not stable and will, over time, deflate back into a liquid. It needs to be baked after whisking.

Italian meringue has become very popular in recent times, due to its longer ‘shelf-life’ for want of a better word. The egg-whites are whisked together with a hot sugar syrup which cooks them enough to prevent them deflating once cold. Italian meringue can be folded into mousses and ice-creams to provide lightness and creaminess, can be piped directly onto cakes and pies and toasted either in the oven or with a blow-torch. It can also have butter whipped into it to make an indulgent filling/icing for cakes large and small.

Swiss Meringue is a method that falls roughly between that of French and Italian. The sugar and unwhipped egg-whites are stirred over simmering water until the sugar has dissolved, then they are removed from the heat and whisked vigorously until cool. This method makes for a firm, dazzlingly-white meringue that holds its shape exceptionally well, especially when piped with a patterned nozzle, which makes it the perfect meringue to use for adding a little more form and structure to your desserts.

This recipe comes from the Victorian baking book, “All about Biscuits” by H.G.Harris & S.P.Borella (c1900) and is listed only as a meringue mixture (one of many throughtout the book). It calls for caster sugar and the whites of eggs to be whisked to a temperature of 66°C. Comparing this method with recipes available online, it is interesting to note that the ratio of sugar to egg-whites in modern mixtures varies, as does the temperature to which the mixture should be heated, from equal quantities by weight of sugar and egg-whites up to double the sugar to egg-whites, and in temperature from ‘until the sugar is dissolved’ as high as 80°C.

This recipe is a diplomatic middle-ground, but you should experiment to find the mixture that works best for you. What you do with the meringue after it is made, is really the main focus of this post, and my initial experiments are included below. Most modern recipes stop after the mixing stage and either suggest the meringue be used as-is on top of pies and cakes, or that butter is whipped into the meringue to create a buttercream. Detailed below is a third option: that of baking the meringue dry to enjoy as they are or for use in other recipes. I hope to be able to add to the photographs as I discover additional suitable designs.

Use of silicone moulds

Meringue Shapes — Meringues shaped in silicone moulds

Use of flexible silicone moulds are the simplest way to give your meringues a professional look. Smooth the meringue into clean moulds, trying to ensure there are no air-pockets trapped between the mixture and the surface of the mould. The drawback of this approach is the length of time the meringues take to dry. The best method I have found, is to cook them at a slightly higher temperature initially (80°C), until the visible surface is cooked and firm, then gently ease them from the mould and allow them to dry overnight in an extremely low oven (mine will actually go as low as 30°C). They will be perfectly dry, dazzlingly white and will keep for days in an airtight container.

Meringues shaped in silicone moulds can be hollowed out to shorten baking time and provide room for a surprise filling

If you hollow out the meringue shapes, as seen above, not only does this reduce the drying time, but you can then use this for a hidden filling underneath, or turn the meringue the other way up and use it as a bowl for a moist and creamy filling: Eton Mess becomes Eton Tidy in an instant!

Use of piping tips

Spooned into a piping bag fitted with a shaped piping tip, Swiss Meringue is fantastic for creating shapes and designs with crisp details that hold their shape whilst baking. A few simple examples are listed below.

Meringue Ruffles made using the ‘leaf’ piping tip

Meringue Batons and Shells piped using an open star tip.

Meringue Feathers piped using an open star tip.

Meringue Swirls piped using an open star tip.

Meringue Fleur de Lys and Hearts piped using an open star tip.

Swiss Meringue

450g caster sugar
300g egg-whites

Put the egg-whites and sugar into a clean, dry bowl and set it on top of a pan of simmering water.
Be sure that the bowl doesn’t touch the surface of the water.
Gently stir the ingredients together until the sugar is dissolved and the temperature has reached 66°C.
Remove the bowl from the pan and whisk the contents briskly until the mixture is cold, firm, billowy and dazzlingly white.
Pipe onto parchment-lined baking sheets or into silicone moulds as you see fit.

To bake

The whiter you wish your meringues, the lower the temperature they need to bake, or rather, dry out. The shape will also dictate how long they require in the oven.

Preheat the oven to 100°C, 80°C Fan.
Bake for 1-2 hours, depending on shape, until set and firm. If you’re using silicone moulds, now would be the time to ease the meringues from the moulds.
Reduce oven temperature to 50°C, 40°C Fan and allow meringues to dry out.
Once cooled, store in an airtight container until required.

Mince Pies Royale

19th century, Sweet Pastry

Here is a great recipe for stretching a small amount of mincemeat into 30+ rich and delicious seasonable bites.

It is adapted from a recipe by Eliza Acton, and I’ve taken the opportunity to pair it with another of her recipes which she refers to as “Superlative Mincemeat”. Taking as an example my adaptation of Hannah Glasse’s Lenten mincemeat, I decided to try making this recipe suet-free. Now I still absolutely love Hannah’s recipe, but I also love discovering new things as well.

The mincemeat recipe is a delight for anyone who loves citrus fruit. It’s also a delight for anyone who loves a healthy slug of booze in their mincemeat. I’ve actually toned down the quantity of brandy because the alcoholic haze rising from the first test batch made my eyes water. Unusually, this mincemeat includes two boiled lemons, chopped finely, which add a real zing to the overall flavour. Once the lemons have been prepared, the method is very similar to the original fat-free mincemeat.

A portion of this mincemeat is then enriched and sweetened with sugar, fresh lemon, egg yolks and butter and used to fill pastry-lined mini tins. The pastry I’ve used is the sweet version of the cornflour shortcrust, flavoured with orange zest, and cut out using a flower cookie cutter. After an initial baking, the pies are topped with meringue and then baked for a further few minutes until nicely browned.

These little pies are extremely rich, which is why baking them in a mini muffin pan is ideal. The filling sets into a dense cross between Christmas pudding and Christmas cake and the crunchy meringue is a great contrast. This quantity makes about 30 mini pies, perfect as petites fours or to serve with coffee. You can keep them in a tin, but the meringues will go a little soft after 24 hours.

You can, of course, use any mincemeat and pastry you have to hand instead.

Citrus mincemeat

Makes about 1kg of mincemeat
2 small lemons (about 170g)
The weight of the lemons in raisins, currants and chopped dates
85g candied orange peel, chopped small
85g candied citron peel, chopped small
30-50g caster sugar
60ml brandy
60ml apple juice
0.5tsp salt
1tsp grated nutmeg
0.5tsp ground mace
1tsp ground ginger

Put the lemons into a small saucepan and cover with cold water.
Bring to the boil and simmer for 15 minutes.
Drain the water and scrub the sides of the pan to remove the bitter lemon oil.
Rinse the lemons also.
Repeat 3 times, until the lemons are tender and a clove can be pushed through the skin.
Cut open the lemons and remove the pips.
Dice the pulp and rind finely.
Put the lemons and the rest of the ingredients into a small pan over a low heat.
Cover and allow the fruit to plump up. Stir occasionally.
If the fruit seems a little dry, add more liquid – your choice whether it’s alcoholic or not.
If the mixture seems too wet, uncover and allow the excess to evaporate.
Set aside to cool.

Orange Cornflour Pastry

225g plain flour
60g cornflour
140g unsalted butter
85g caster sugar
zest of 1 orange
1 large egg

Put everything except the egg into the bowl of a food processor and blitz until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
Whisk the egg and, with the motor running, gradually add to the mixture until it comes together in a ball. You might not require all the egg, or you might need additional liquid if the mix looks a little dry. If you have extra egg-white, tat would be ideal, otherwise use water.
Knead the pastry smooth and wrap in plastic.
Chill in the fridge for at least 30 minutes or until required.

Eliza Acton’s Mince Pies Royale

225g mincemeat
3 large eggs
30g clarified butter
juice and zest of 1 lemon
40g caster sugar
pinch of salt
caster sugar

Preheat the oven to 200°C, 180°C Fan.
Separate the eggs.
Mix together the mincemeat, egg yolks, lemon zest and juice and the sugar.
Warm the butter until just melted and stir in.
Grease a large (24 cup) mini muffin pan.
Roll out the pastry very thinly. It is easier to work with either 1/3 or 1/2 of the pastry at a time.
Cut out pastry and use it to line the mini muffin pan. For a lovely, neat edge to your pies, I recommend using a flower-shaped pastry cutter. The petals help to avoid the dreaded folds which can sometimes be an issue with the pastry for mini tarts.
Add a teaspoon of the enriched mincemeat mixture to each tartlet.
Bake for 7-8 minutes until the middle has set and the pastry is cooked.
If you’ve got filling and pastry left over (and you probably will), use them up first by making a second batch of tartlets before making the meringue. Arrange the cooked tartlets on a baking sheet, ready for the meringue.
While the tarts are baking, make the meringue.
- You won’t need to use all of the egg white, so I suggest using just half.
- Put a bowl onto your scales and set them to zero.
- Pour in the amount of egg-white you will be using and make a note of the weight.
- Measure out an equivalent amount of caster sugar.
- Whisk the egg-whites with a pinch of salt until soft peaks.
- Whisk in the sugar, a spoonful at a time until the meringue is firm and glossy.
- Spoon the meringue into a piping bag. You choose what style of nozzle to fit.
When all the tarts are baked and arranged on a baking sheet, pipe the meringue on top. Make sure the meringue covers all of the filling and goes right to the edge of the pastry.
Return the tarts to the oven for 5-7 minutes until the meringue is nicely browned.
Cool the tartlets on a wire rack.