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Cooks
History
Today's Navymen are among the best fed people in the world, but
back in the days of the sloop, frigate and corvette, a Sailor's
stomach had to be nearly as strong as his back. A typical week's
bill of fare in the Navy in the year 1799 left much to be
desired. It read something like this: Seven pounds of bread, two
pounds of beef, three pounds of pork, one pound of salt fish,
one quart of fish, one and a half pints of peas or beans, twelve
ounces of cheese, two pounds of potatoes or turnips, and six
ounces of molasses. One gil (four ounces) of oil could be
substituted for four ounces of butter and further lubrication
was provided by the daily issue of one-half pint of rum.
Some of the principal foods consisted of "salt junk" and "hard
tack." Salt junk was a term used for partly dried pork, pickled
in brine, but sometimes the same name also applied to either
salt pork or salt beef. Hard tack accurately described the
biscuits baked without salt and kiln-dried.
Generally, however, the Sailor of bygone days was content to
sink his chops into a meal that was called "lobscouse," "daddyfunk,"
or "plumduff." Then for an after dinner demitasse he would wash
it down with "pale ale." As an added attraction, if the menu did
not suit his culinary taste he could try some "schooner on the
rocks." The term "lobscouse" came into being as a byword for
what we now call hash. It was a concoction of meat, vegetables
and hardtack, and was usually stewed. "Daddyfunk" was a messy
concoction of hardtack soaked in water and bake with grease and
molasses. "Plumduff" was originally a plain flour pudding
containing raisins or currants, boiled in a bag or cloth.
"Schooner on the rocks" was the nautical name for to a roast
beef surrounded by potatoes, and "pale ale" is known to us today
as water.
Commissarymen today put out a mighty fine menu when compared to
years-gone-by. A couple of centuries ago, qualifications for a
man to become a cook were quite simple. It seemed to be a rule
that no Sailor who had not lost eye or leg in battle could be
eligible for this office, though all were required to have two
arms. Whether or not a man could cook apparently was overlooked
in the qualifications for that position, and an exalted position
it was, for all the men tried to get on the good side of
"cookie," although, in private, less complementary nicknames
were used. During this time the cook was in most cases an
unscrupulous individual, and it was often found that cooks could
be bribed into giving double rations to the messes. Instructions
drawn up for sea cooks in the middle 19th Century were few and
included: (1) He is to take upon him the care of the meat in the
steeping tub, (2) In stormy weather, he is to preserve it from
being lost, (3) He is to boil the provisions, and to deliver
them out to the men. And that's about it.
There was no refrigeration aboard ship in olden days. Foodstuffs
were apt to spoil easily, and as a result the cook's tasks were
made even harder. Fresh meat was carried only in small
quantities and fresh vegetables were almost unheard of. When
ships were in foreign ports hunting parties were organized to
seek fresh meat. In larger ships and on short passages, live
beasts were carried for fresh meat, but on long voyages oxen,
like men, could get scurvy too, or at any rate thin down to
uselessness, and sheep took poorly to the sea life. In good
weather hens prospered and about the only animal to prosper at
sea was the goat, and the goats prospered always.
So from the chow served during the early U.S. Navy to the
present time the Commissaryman's qualifications have advanced to
the point where today's meals are prepared in such a fashion
that they will activate the taste buds of any connoisseur of
good cooking.
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