Hello there everyone! Just a very quick post with some slightly belated good news. My biography of Elizabeth Raffald, Before Mrs Beeton: Elizabeth Raffald, England’s Most Influential Housekeeper won the Best Book category at this year’s Guild of Food Writer’s Awards. I’m still rather bowled over about it, I must say, and certainly wasn’t expecting to win, despite winning the Best First Book award last year, in fact with the Raffald book, I thought it (superficially) niche in the big and varied world of food writing.
The evening was such good fun, the awards ceremony itself hosted by Leyla Kazim. Other notable award wins from the point of view of history were the Lifetime Achievement Award for DamePrue Leith (with special appearance from Sandi Toksvig!) and the Newcomer award which went to Scots food historian Peter Gilchrist. I shall be trying my best to get him on the podcast at some point this year.
Anyway, off I pop to write a proper post for you all. xxx
Selection of photographs from the evening (photos: Martin Behrman, Behrman Media)
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A. Cook’s Perspective is an investigation into the work of the rather obscure and eccentric 18th-century cook and cookery writer Ann Cook, her methods and her infamous hatred of the popular cookery writer, and her contemporary, Hannah Glasse and her book The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy. The book is essentially a transcript of Cook’s Professed Cookery garnished liberally with comments and insights into Ann and Hannah’s recipes, their cooking methods as well as Ann’s state of mind. The book is authored by experienced food historians and historical cooks Clarissa F. Dillon and Deborah J. Peterson who investigate Cook’s spleen-venting by cooking her and Hannah’s recipes to understand whether Cook’s vitriolic take-down of Glasse has any grounding.
A. Cook’s Perspective is a very useful book – firstly because it’s an edited transcription of Cook’s work (including her bizarre preface which attacks Hannah Glasse in rhyming couplets and long-form poetry) which is very handy for those who prefer to read a book over a digitised PDF. But the book adds so much more than that because Dillon and Peterson really get to work on fact-checking and inspecting the minutiae of Cook’s methodologies by making the recipes themselves – and it’s a mixed bag, sometimes landing in favour of Cook, other times Glasse. Their work also exposes Mrs Cook as a vindictive, petulant, embittered woman, and it gives this reader more insight into the bizarre one-sided acrimony (it is unknown whether Hannah Glasse ever met, or even knew, Ann Cook) which I had previously thought was generally in agreement of Cook’s assessment. The reality is – as usual – much more complex. Having a physical book in my hand allowed me to read Cook’s work more closely (something difficult to do when reading digitised texts online), and it shed light on the evolution and pedigree of some dishes. For example, I spotted elements of Cook’s recipe ‘To make a White Fricassey of Rabbets’ in Elizabeth Raffald’s recipe ‘Rabbits Surprized’, a dish I thought to be totally unique to Raffald.
Dillon and Peterson’s approach of writing comments beneath original prose is a good one: it helps us to understand how some recipes work, and how the writers go about interpreting them. They also demonstrate the importance and benefit of cooking the recipes oneself, rather than simply reading them. There are several occasions too where the authors are at a loss as to Ann’s meaning or point in some of her comments, many of which seem to be nonsensical or simply ‘whining’. By criticising Ann Cook’s own criticisms we do glean an extra layer of understanding of 18th-century cooking.
As someone with an interest in the cookery writers of the 18th century, I would have liked to have seen the introduction, i.e. the backstory, fleshed out a lot more: the two ladies’ biographies, achievements and inter-relatedness. Photos of the food would have helped bring the dishes to life, as would some images, say contemporary artwork, of 18th-century foods being served or prepared.
Overall, A. Cook’s Perspective is a worthy addition to the home library of anyone interested in 18th-century cookery because it provides us with practical knowledge of cooking at this point in history, but it also gives us an almost voyeuristic view of Ann Cook’s psyche and her deep-seated, intense dislike of a cookery icon at a time when the personal thoughts and feelings of female cookery writers are so rarely captured.
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If you leaf through English cookery books of the 18th and 19th centuries, you will see much mention of ‘melted butter’ or ‘good melted butter’, such as this one, a recipe for egg sauce from Elizabeth Raffald’s The Experienced English Housekeeper (1769)[1]:
You would be completely forgiven if you took those words literally, however, what Elizabeth is referring to is butter sauce, ‘or’, as one-time chef to Queen Victoria Charles Elmé Francatelli put it, ‘as it is absurdly called, melted butter’.[2] It achieved this misleading moniker simply because of its ubiquity. In fact, it was so ubiquitous that Mrs Raffald doesn’t even include a recipe for it. Luckily for us, Hannah Glasse does in Art of Cookery[3]:
Used freely across three centuries, it became known as the ‘one sauce’ of England. The recipe, at least in its constituents, doesn’t really change: it is essentially a thin roux made with flour and water (or stock), enriched with melting cubes of butter, essentially a beurre blanc stabilised with flour – very useful for a sauce that was potentially left standing on a dining table for an hour. Jane Grigson likened it to a hollandaise thickened with flour instead of egg yolks.[4] It can certainly be used in place of either. Butter sauce forms the basis of several other sauces, it can be sharpened with lemon juice, enriched with cream, or flavoured with herbs. Sometimes it is flavoured with shellfish, and even gooseberries if it is to be served with mackerel.
Like many of our common foods, they are mistreated, corners are cut and fillers are added. As Francatelli observed, ‘it is too generally left to assistants to prepare as an insignificant manner; the rest is therefore seldom satisfactory.’[5] Indeed, my first meeting with it was back in the 1980s in the form of a boil-in-the-bag frozen cod steak in butter sauce. I certainly enjoyed it at the time, but upon making a ‘proper’ one decades later for my Neil Cooks Grigson blog,[6] I immediately saw that the sauce I had consumed as a child was a shadow of its former self. Writing in English Food at a time when the hold nouvelle cuisine had on the restaurant scene was beginning to wane, Jane Grigson hoped we might return to this sauce and appreciate it again.[7] We didn’t, but perhaps now is the time?
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My recipe, below, is adapted from Jane Grigson’s, which in turn, is adapted from Francatelli’s, so it has quite the pedigree. The only significant change I have made is to reduce the amount of flour. I’ve tinkered with amounts so that a full 250g pack of butter is used; no messing about with weights (and there is something quite satisfying about using a whole block of butter). Don’t let any memories of bad school meals put you off, and don’t let the amount of butter put you off either, it’s a surprisingly light and delicate sauce.
It’s simple to prepare, as long as you don’t let the diced butter become hot enough it melts fully. I love this sauce served with steamed vegetables such as asparagus, purple sprouting broccoli, leeks or new potatoes, as well as simple poached eggs, sole or salmon. If you have some poaching liquid or stock, it can replace the water used in the recipe.
I’ve provided some simple, classic variations below should you fancy trying them.
Serves 4 to 6:
250g very cold unsalted butter, diced
2 level tsp plain flour
120ml hot water
Salt
Ground black pepper
Pinch nutmeg and mace (optional)
Squeeze lemon juice
2 tbs cream (optional)
Put around one-third of the butter in a saucepan over a medium-low heat and allow it to melt, then stir in the flour with a wooden spoon, or better a small whisk, and allow to cook gently for a couple of minutes – on no account let it brown. If the flour fries and clumps a little, don’t worry. Now mix in the hot water by degrees, only adding more when the water in the pan has fully mixed into the flour and butter. Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg and mace, if using. Allow to gently simmer for 6 or 7 minutes over a low heat. Take the pan off the heat and let it cool for 2 minutes.
Now start beating into the sauce 3 or 4 cubes of butter so that they slowly melt and amalgamate into the sauce. Only when the cubes have disappeared, should you add more. Once you have done this a couple of times, the sauce will cool and the cubes won’t melt so easily, so put the pan over the lowest heat possible, and then continue to add more.
When the butter is used up, add a small squeeze of lemon, stir and check for seasoning. If you like, add cream.
Serve the sauce in a warm jug, or pour over vegetables or fish.
Variations:
Parsley sauce: add a tbs of finely chopped parsley. Eat with some delicately poached cod and stick two fingers up to Captain Birdseye.
Caper sauce: add a tbs of capers, whole or chopped. If you like, season with a little wine vinegar instead of lemon juice. A more piquant sauce to eat with richer foods: skate, brains and poached lamb or mutton.
Egg sauce: make the sauce as above, but when it is ready add the mashed yolks of 3 hard-boiled eggs and then the whites finely diced. Traditionally this is eaten with salt cod and parsnips in Lent.
Shrimp sauce (possibly the most delicious variation). Use a good handful of cooked brown shrimp in their shells (if you can get them) or small prawns. Remove the shells, and boil them in the water to make a rich stock. Use this instead of water. When the sauce is ready, stir in the shelled prawns or shrimps. This is delicious poured over poached turbot. You can also make this sauce with crab or lobster.
[3] Glasse, H. (1747) The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy. Prospect Books. The image is taken from the 1763 edition, but the recipe is unchanged from the original 1747 edition.
[4]Grigson, J. (1992) English Food. Third Edit. Penguin.
I hope you are about to have a nice relaxing long Easter weekend. I’m just doing a very quick post to let you all know about a free Zoom talk I am giving on 26 April at 7pm (BST).
It is called The Extraordinary Life of Elizabeth Raffald, and over the course of about 45 minutes I’ll tell you about her remarkable achievements (in life AND death), as well as her dramatic rise and fall story. I’m leaving plenty of time afterwards for questions and discussion. I do hope that you can come.
Don’t forget that my book, Before Mrs Beeton: Elizabeth Raffald, England’s Most Influential Housekeeper, is available to buy from all good bookshops, and (at time of writing) at a discounted rate from publisher Pen & Sword.
P.S. I am also doing a talk in Manchester on 14 May, but I’ll tell you about that in a week or so.
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I am very pleased to announce that my second book, a biography of the 18th century cookery writer, entrepreneur and Manchester legend Elizabeth Raffald will be published in the UK on 28 February 2023. It is called Before Mrs Beeton: Elizabeth Raffald, England’s Most Influential Housekeeper and is published by Pen & Sword History. North American readers: I’m afraid you’ll after wait until 28 April before you can get your hands on a copy. Rest of world: please check with your favourite bookshop.
Detail of a map of Elizabeth Raffald’s Manchester
Before I tell you more about the book, I thought I’d let you know that if you pre-order via Pen & Sword’s website (so there’s not long left) you can get 20% off the cover price. The book is, of course, available from other booksellers. I will be selling some copies too, which of course will be signed by Yours Truly.
I’ll be posting all sorts about Elizabeth and 18th century food throughout March on the blog and on social media, so if you don’t follow me already on social media, now is the time to do so. I am @neilbuttery on Twitter, dr_neil_buttery on Instagram and my Facebook discussion group can be viewed here.
The book has a recipe section: this is ‘A Hunting Pudding’ from The Experienced English Housekeeper (1769)
The book charts Elizabeth’s many achievements and life events, the best known being the publication of her influential cookery book The Experienced English Housekeeper in 1769 – but there are many, many others. Her life was a dramatic one: starting life in domestic service, she rose to fame and fortune and transformed Manchester’s business community, before a tumultuous fall. Her book outlived her, but its popularity had a great rise and fall too.
I discovered Elizabeth via Jane Grigson, and it is these two food writers who have been my biggest, and most constant inspiration through 15 years of researching and cooking British food, and I am so happy to be the one to write Elizabeth’s biography.
The very passage in English Food by Jane Grigson that introduced me to Elizabeth Raffald
Mrs Beeton’s name is in the title for a variety of reasons, the main one of which being that it is Elizabeth – a full century before Beeton and her book – who defined what we think of today as traditional British food, not Isabella Beeton, yet it is Beeton who is placed on that pedestal.
To find out more about the book, listen to this recent podcast about Elizabeth, her life, and more about why Mrs Beeton has a lot to answer for!
British Food: A History 