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Feeding a City: York
Edited by Eileen White
PDF of the preliminaries, the table of contents and the introduction to the volume Feeding a City
Published Oct 2000
300 pages; hardback
Food and the Rites of Passage
Edited by Laura Mason
BAPTISM, MARRIAGE, CHILDBIRTH, DEATH: these are the milestones of life, invariably marked by a feast or comforting rituals founded on food and drink. Some of these habits flourished, then died away – think of the cups of wine passed around the gossips gathered at a lying in; others have gone on to be industries in their own right – the wedding cake, which has slowly but surely evolved from the giant flat discs of bride cake illustrated in the sensational full-colour cover of a fête in Bermondsey by Hofnagel in the seventeenth century, to the many-tiered and icing-bedaubed monuments of today.
The book consists of six essays by recognised food-historians, each taking in turn one of these milestones, sometimes (but not always) with a certain north-country bias: Peter Brears writes on funerals; Dr Layinka Swinburne writes on childbirth; Laura Mason on wedding cakes; Ivan Day on old marriage customs; and Professor Tony Green on the sociology of the modern wedding celebration. There is also an overview of Irish food customs, with reference to these rites, by the well-regarded young Irish food historian, Regina Sexton.
This book is the eleventh volume in the series ‘Food and Society’ produced by the Leeds Symposium on Food History. Prospect produced last year’s proceedings, Feeding a City: York; this book is uniform with that. There are plentiful black and white illustrations throughout; the book is fully indexed and annotated.
The editor, Laura Mason, is an historian of British Food whose previous books include Traditional Foods of Britain: an Inventory and Sugar-plums and Sherbet: the Pre-history of sweets. She is a regular contributor to the Leeds Symposium on Food History.
PDF of the preliminaries and introduction to Food and the Rites of Passage
Review by Lucy Lethbridge in The Tablet
Around 1569, the miniaturist Joris Hoefnagel, a Flemish refugee living on the south bank of the Thames, painted a wonderful picture of a wedding in the nearby village of Bermondsey. Each tiny, intricate detail gives us a clue to the elaborate rituals which a sixteenth-century marriage celebration could incorporate. A bridal procession emerges from the church of St Mary Magdalene; two young men and two young women lead the way, carrying enormous bride-cakes; they are followed by two fiddlers and a bride leader, or cupbearer, who carries a large bunch of rosemary in a golden ewer, its branches tied with tiny red and white “bride knots” and two streaming ribbons – “bride laces”; gilded flags among them are painted with minuscule armorial designs, the ribbons are perhaps inscribed with mottoes. The processing figures each carry a pair of the scented white gloves which it was customary to present to wedding guests. In an open kitchen, a feast is being prepared: haunches of meat turning on a long spit and cooks pulling from the oven enormous pies – probably filled with venison.
Modern church weddings are still imbued with old customs. They are perhaps the only surviving area of modern life where people still have an almost superstitious regard for traditions. Yet many of these rituals have been entirely forgotten. What has happened to rosemary, for example? Once one of the chief components of the wedding, symbolic of both potency and remembrance and thought to be a vital cordial for the heart, its sprigs were sprinkled ceremoniously with rosewater. But other traditions have evolved: the Italian sugared nuts known as “confetti” are now pieces of coloured paper scattered over bride and groom as they leave the church (even earlier they scattered ears of wheat – symbols of fertility); the spiced wine or “Hippocras” which was once the special feasting drink is now sparkling wine or champagne. Then there is the wedding cake: the vast, lozenge-shaped pastry cases (the Countess of Rutland’s receipt for making Banbury cake produces a 30-pound monster 18 inches in diameter) carried before the bride in Hoefnagel’s painting bear little resemblance to the three-tier confection, swathed in marzipan, which is traditional today. But nonetheless they share features: the rich plumcake mixture inside the pastry cases is really just like the spiced fruitcake of today. Paste of almonds, or marchpane (also known as “matrimony”), was once one of the most expensive foods you could buy and therefore associated with the grandest occasions. In some areas of Europe it was the custom to break the cake over the bride’s head – John Aubrey linked it with a Roman practice – even in the nineteenth century a local historian from Yorkshire describes “a thin currant cake, marked in squares, though not entirely cut through” broken over a local bride. This book examines with riveting detail the food associated with all the important passages of life – not just marriage but also childbirth, baptism and death. In the sixteenth century pregnant women were advised to eat cock sparrows and leek juice for a smooth confinement. In the north of England it was customary to give a woman in labour a “groaning cake”, which would be cut into the exact number of slices of those present to avoid bad luck. It was common to eat chocolate at funerals and Parson Woodforde, invaluable chronicler of all things edible, wrote that in 1782, at the funeral of “Mrs Howe”, the guests had “Cake and Wine and Chocolate and dried Toast”. No expense was spared in a sending off: in 1760, mourners at Farmer Keld of Whitby’s funeral put away nine large hams, eight legs of veal, 20 stone of beef, 16 stone of mutton, 15 stone of Cheshire cheese, 110 penny loaves and 30 ankers of ale. But provision was made too for the poor: in Sheffield, being buried “Hallam Fashion” meant that the guests brought their own bread and cheese to save the family expense.
The essays in this book are entirely enthralling, bringing the past alive. Reading it, one also experiences the pleasure of recognising in a custom still observed today the faint flicker of an earlier one which has evolved, changed and been re-invented over the centuries. As always with Prospect Books,Food and the Rites of Passage looks beautiful – and because food should never be only for reading about, there are recipes at the end for plum cakes, christening cakes, “funeral bunnes”, “kissing confits” and a “Paste of Violetts, Cowslipps, Borage, Buglosse and Rosemary flowers”.
Review by Kevin T. McIntyre in Gastronomica
As focal points of individual and group transformation, rites of passage provide a unique opportunity to examine the use, meaning, and material importance of food. The deployment of food within such events and the habits of its incorporation convey vital features of individual performance, group understanding, and cultural cohesion, but also speak broadly to questions of constancy, change, and the forces impelling them within a larger social frame. Such is the potential substance of a volume like Food and the Rites of Passage, a possibility only partially tapped by the book’s contributors.
Food and the Rites of Passage is the latest offering derived from the annual Leeds Symposium on Food History. The five essays concentrate on three transformational rituals in the British Isles – baptisms, weddings, and funerals – primarily within the confines of the Anglican Church. Essays span the early-modern period through the first half of the twentieth century, largely through a descriptive discussion of prepared foods, beverages, and ingredients. We learn much of interest. Ivan Day, for instance, shows that bride cakes emerged as an important element within weddings; that they were often broken over the bride’s head, generally upon arrival at her new residence; and that her attendants scurried for the pieces that fell to the floor as an omen of their own future marital success. Layinka Swinburne and Laura Mason acquaint us with ingredients thought to have been useful in conceiving and bearing children, from leek juice, quails, and animal testicles, to dates, almonds, and figs, to rabbit milk with pulverized snake skin and crayfish. From Swinburne and Mason we also learn that in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, “gossips” – female friends and relatives of a pregnant woman – assembled prior to childbirth to assist and witness the birth, prevent baby substitution, and sponsor baptism. At such lying-in, known as the groaning-time, the presentation of a groaning-cake by family friends arose as an important symbol, imbued with notions of luck and fertility. In Peter Brears’s essay we read that funerals were the critical rite through which food functioned as a measure of social prestige among all social classes. The alimentary importance of funerals was much more heightened than that of christenings, coming-of-age ceremonies, and weddings, and often lent itself to highly jovial affairs of binging, drinking, and other entertainment. This may have derived from a view that the deceased had passed into a better afterlife while those remaining still had much difficulty facing them, a sentiment attested to by commercially produced funeral biscuits, the printed wrappers of which display such notions from the seventeenth century forward. Whatever the impetus, providing a significant feast before, during, and after the funeral created a serious drain on the household resources of people of various social strata. As Brears notes, “in many households the funeral feast was the most expensive meal ever prepared”.
What we gain in such descriptive richness, however, we lose in analytical prowess. Throughout most essays there is a troublesome lack of any extended discussion of several issues, of which the two most obvious are colonialism and gender. The influence that British colonialism cast upon food habits in the United Kingdom – how it remapped literally and figuratively the foods that were available, their affordability, and their expanded use among increasingly wider audiences at all levels of society – is all but ignored in the book. Thus, we can appreciate the careful attention various authors give to changing recipes that show progressively greater inclusion of sugar, dates, figs, nutmeg, tea, and other commodities during the period under discussion. Yet we must puzzle over the absence of deliberation on the massive colonial confluence of political and economic forces that brought these commodities into wider circulation and enabled their use in the recipes considered. So, too, we must be perplexed about the play of gender in the food habits detailed in each essay. In a volume dedicated to food and to at least two rites of passage (birth/baptism and weddings) in which gender figures heavily, it is surprising to find little sustained examination, or often even mention, of issues of gender: the engendering of different foods; the gendered control of food and the effects this had on family relationships and rituals; the gendered power manifest in, or gendered symbolism woven around, certain foods and their handling.
An exception is Regina Sexton’s research on food habits in weddings and wakes among lower-class rural Irish during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Sexton does discuss the impact of industrialization and intercontinental transportation upon Irish consumption patterns within these two rites of passage. She also devotes some attention to how gender figured into the politics and meaning of food within and between households and the larger community. Yet Sexton, too, seems reluctant to foreground British colonialism and the overseas plantation systems and other political-economic realities that helped to fuel industrialization and the expanding transport links she mentions.
In fairness, the introduction to the volume acknowledges a lack of sociological and anthropological analysis in the essays. In a slim volume, we can appreciate the production constraints that may have factored in. Nonetheless, the dearth of analytical scrutiny renders the volume much less useful to food studies than it might otherwise be, inhibiting its capacity to advance our understanding of the prime importance of food in rites of passage.
Published Jul 2002
166 pages; 175×245 mm; hardback; b&w illustrations
Over a Red-Hot Stove
Essays in early cooking technology, edited by Ivan Day
• The fourteenth volume of the Leeds Symposium on Food History ‘Food and Society’ series •The theme is the ways we cooked our food since medieval times.David Eveleigh discusses the rise of the kitchen range, from the 19th-century coal-fired monsters to the electric and gas cookers of the early 20th century.Ivan Day, in two essays, talks about techniques of roasting. In the first he tells of the ox roast; in the second he traces the history of the clockwork spit. Peter Brears gives an account of roasting, specifically the ‘baron of beef’, in early modern royal palaces. Laura Mason tells of the English reliance on yeast as a raising agent in baked goods; and Susan McClellan Plaisted gives an account of running a masonry wood-fired oven. The book is generously illustrated with photographs and early prints and engraving. PETER BREARS was formerly Director of Leeds City Museums. He wrote Cooking and Dining in Medieval England. IVAN DAY is a food historian and cook whose work has been exhibited widely here and abroad. He regularly contributes to TV and radio shows about food history. DAVID EVELEIGH is the director of the Black Country Museum and author of Old Kitchen Implements, Privies and Water Closets and The Victorian Farmer. LAURA MASON is a food historian. Her publications include The Taste of Britain, Sugar Plums and Sherbet and Farmhouse Cookery. SUSAN McCLELLAN PLAISTED is director of foodways at Pennsbury Manor, the recreated home of William Penn, the founder of Philadelphia. PDF of the preliminary pages, the tables of contents and illustrations, preface and introduction to Over a Red Hot Stove.
A reader’s review from Amazon.co.uk
I have many books about historic cooking techniques and equipment, I rate this title among the best. The book is in distinct but complimentary sections; each giving what amounts to a lecture text, but a very interesting, well researched and (importantly) well referenced lecture. If, for personal interest or academic research, you want accurate information about roasting etc. from respected historians, this book is likely to provide a significant amount of the required matter and refer you to good sources for any more you need.
Published Sep 2009
166 pages; 246×174 mm; hardback; 80 b&w illustrations
The English Cookery Book
Historical Essays, edited by Eileen White
|The study of early cookery books can tell the reader much more than just the history of food, or of one particular recipe. As the essays in the collection demonstrate, cookery books can be the source of fascinating information about a whole range of issues, from the use of language (Peter Meredith); the way that illustrations may be deployed for instructional purposes (Ivan Day); or how social change is reflected on the dining-tables of the nation (Eileen White and Valerie Mars). In addition, there are two excellent studies of individual books and their makers (Malcolm Thick and Laura Mason) which underline the immense value of the cookery collections housed in the Brotherton Library of the University of Leeds.This volume is the twelfth of the series ‘Food and Society’, consisting of papers presented to the Leeds Symposium on Food History.There are seven essays:
A PDF of the preliminary and introductory matter of The English Cookery Book and of the text of the first essay in the book, ‘An Introduction to the Cookery Book Collection in The Brotherton Library’, by C. Anne Wilson
Published Apr 2004
71 b&w illustrations
The English Kitchen
Historical Essays, edited by Eileen White
The papers collected here were originally presented to the eighteenth Leeds Symposium on Food History as ‘The Changing Face of Food’. The inspiration for the day came from Prospect Books’ series under the general heading ‘The English Kitchen’, and that title has been given to this publication. ‘English’ in this case means the language in which the recipes are written rather than marking national boundaries.
Individual chapters reflect the enthusiasm of the contributors and do not cover the fall range of food in Britain. Readers may be inspired to take their own item of food and track its progress through the ages. A single dish can reflect the changing taste of a nation, from the use of a proflision of spices and a mixture of sweet and savoury, to a deliberate limitation of flavours and division of dishes into specific courses. As literacy grew, and printed books became easily affordable, the recipes took in the simpler meals of all classes of society. They also reveal the gradual incorporation of ready-made flavours and thickeners, and the industrial provision of food that leaves little for the cook to do.
The contributors have made use of dictionary definitions in beginning their examination of a particular dish, but these definitions are framed by lexicographers rather than cooks. The next step is to consult the recipe books themselves, and favourites have emerged in the following chapters.
Many are available in modern transcriptions, editions or facsimiles, starting with medieval manuscripts care of the Early English Text Society and taking in the writings of Thomas Dawson, John Murrell, Robert May, Hannah Glasse, Martha Bradley and Eliza Acton. More books popular with contributors, available in collections such as those in the Brotherton Library of Leeds University, include Gervase Markham and Hannah Wolley. Mrs Beeton’s original publication of 1861 is available in facsimile, and Mrs A.B. Marshall is becoming better known through the work of her present-day admirers. Publications of personal manuscripts, such as those of Elinor Fettiplace, Rebecca Price and John Evelyn, help to give a more domestic view of what was prepared in the English kitchen. Samuel Pepys and Grisell Baillie offer examples of meals actually eaten. Unpublished cookery manuscripts in private collections or public record offices will provide further examples of different dishes evolving over several generations. It is hoped that the following chapters will prompt others to track a favourite recipe as it evolved to suit tastes, availability of ingredients and technical advances in kitchen equipment.
The introduction by Tom Jaine poses the question lying behind the other chapters: is there something that can be defined as English cookery? The example he gives of produce available in a particular area, constrained by geographical formations, shows how the problem of feeding a family in ways suited to the locality can be dealt with creatively.
In this book we celebrate a few of the items that have been provided in the English kitchen for the English table.
Published Aug 2007
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