Authors: Alison Maloney
The advantages of the Russian style
,
as expressed in the
Manual of Household Work and Management
(1913)
This labour-heavy convention replaced the French or English style of service, in which the plates were placed in the centre of the table and the roast
carved and distributed by the host. For less formal meals the two were combined in what Janet McKenzie Hill termed ‘Compromise Style’ which was, she wrote, ‘a “let
down” from the formality of the Russian service and a “let up” to the arduous duties expected of the head of the house at a table served after the English fashion’.
For the servants there were many points of etiquette to remember. The courses were served from the left of the guest either on a pre-prepared plate or by proffering a dish of food from which the
guest could serve himself. Wine and other drinks were to be served from the right and each glass filled to no more than two-thirds full. After each course the plates were removed from the
right.
Any servant who committed the sin of forgetting a minor point at a dinner party would soon be corrected. According to Margaret Wylie in
Not in Front of the Servants
one parlourmaid in her
parents’ employ at their London home, known by her surname Allen, passed the port in an anticlockwise direction and was told, ‘The
other
way please Allen.’ Allen, who had
an Irish temper and was incensed by criticism in public, banged the decanter down on the table with a violent crash and marched out, slamming the door behind her. ‘Although she had been with
us for as long as I could remember, and I was sad to part with “Lizzie” as I called her out
of Mother’s earshot, she was dismissed the next morning,’
Wylie recalled.
During courses the butler was the only servant left in the room, ready to carve the meat on the sideboard and to refill wine glasses when asked.
Lady Cynthia Asquith commented that although butlers were undoubtedly ‘downstairs despots’ the granite-faced, unflinching stereotype was a rare breed:
I very seldom in real life encountered that common stage figure, the puma-footed manservant of impalpable presence and uncatchable eye. Few butlers, however
imposing their mien and deportment, were above being visibly, at times audibly, amused by dining room jokes or mishaps.
Diners had to be careful not to upset the servants too, however. Former butler Charles Cooper revealed in
Life Below Stairs
how one of his employer’s guests,
‘a titled lady of a very old family who was most objectionable’, got her just deserts. She would make it her business to delay the serving of the meal by refusing to tell the footman
whether she would like to partake in a particular course, much to the annoyance of the hard-pressed manservant. On one occasion, when she came to dinner, Cooper ‘instructed the footman to
place the hot dishes upon her hand if she still showed the same indifference and this had the desired effect’.
The Meal
Not only would the dinner party consist of up to ten courses but also, in the finest houses, there would be three choices for several of those courses and a different wine
for each. Charles and Elle Thomas-Stanford threw opulent dinner parties at their main house, Preston Manor in Brighton, throughout the first half of the twentieth century. Three of Queen
Victoria’s daughters, Princesses Beatrice, Alice and Helena, were frequent guests, as was Rudyard Kipling. Below is a breakdown of a typical meal at their palatial home.
First Course
A choice of soups, such as consommé and fish soup, served with sherry.
Second Course
Fish, such as salmon, mullet or brill, served in a sauce, with potatoes, and white wine.
Entrée
Vol-au-vents, mutton cutlets or sweetbreads with champagne.
The
‘
Remove
’
or
‘
Relevé
’
This was the main course, consisting of a joint of meat or poultry, served with seasonal vegetables and potatoes that, in Preston Manor’s case, were cut to the size of
matchsticks. This would be served with a good red wine, such as burgundy.
The Game Course
Duck, pheasant, partridge or snips, served with thinly sliced fried potatoes known as ‘game chips’, washed down with claret.
The Entremêts
From the French for ‘between servings’, this was a choice of three different types of dish – a vegetable dish, a sweet dish such as a fruit tart, or a savoury
dish such as sardines or cheese.
Ices
Before this course, the table was cleared and fresh wine glasses placed on the table. The footmen then brought in some fingerbowls for the guests and laid dessert cutlery.
Port
,
Fruit and Nuts
When the ices were finished the dishes were removed and the dessert plates left in case anyone had any room left for the fruit and nuts that followed. Port and Madeira were then
served and the ladies retired to the drawing room leaving, as they had entered, in order of rank, while the men stayed over port, Madeira or brandy, and smoked cigars.
Coffee
Served to both parties in their respective rooms.
Just some of the entrées an Edwardian diner might expect
,
as illustrated in
Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management
After the ladies had retreated the men were allowed to smoke. In some houses the men retired to a smoking room or library for their nightcap and cigar,
but most stayed at the dining table, where they could discuss politics, business and other subjects considered unsuitable for the delicate female ear.
During the postprandial separation the butler was expected to be on hand in case further refreshments were required and the downstairs staff stayed on duty until the last guest had retired.
According to Cynthia Asquith, hostesses were frequently upset by this ‘segregation of the sexes, often of long duration, for most hosts seemed to sit an unconscionable time over their port
liqueurs and cigars’. She added that ‘the mistress of the house would worry if her staff were kept up too late’.
The following is a typical menu suggested by Edwardian cookery writer Janet McKenzie Hill.
Oysters. Brown-bread Sandwiches.
Consommé. Pulled Bread. Olives. Celery.
Baked Turbans of Fish. Potato Diamonds with Peas.
Cucumber Salad.
Sweetbread-and-Mushroom Croquettes, Asparagus Tips.
Roast Turkey. Cranberry Jelly. Mashed Potato. Fried Egg Plant.
Roman Punch.
Broiled Fillets of Venison. Red Currant Jelly in Rice Cups. Chicory Salad.
Macedoine of Fruit in Jelly (Individual Moulds). Whipped Cream.
Bonbons. Salted Almonds.
Coffee.
ROMAN PUNCH
Although more of a drink than a dish, Punch Romaine, or Roman Punch, was a popular addition to the Edwardian dinner party. It was served as the sixth course at the final
dinner on the
Titanic
in 1912, after the main course of roast duckling and apple sauce and before roast squab (pigeon), asparagus salad and foie gras.
INGREDIENTS
6 cups crushed ice
2 cups champagne or sparkling wine
1 cup white wine
1/3 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Orange peel, slivered, optional
1 cup sugar
½ cup water
METHOD
1. In a large saucepan, combine the sugar and water and cook over medium heat, stirring gently until the sugar is completely dissolved.
2. Bring to a boil and simmer for one minute until the syrup is clear. Leave to cool.
3. Combine the crushed ice, simple syrup, champagne, white wine, orange juice and lemon juice. Mix until mixture is well combined.
4. Spoon the mixture into individual dessert cups. Drizzle with rum, if desired, and garnish with a sliver of orange peel. Serve immediately.
QUAIL AND BEEF PUDDING
This meaty creation was the speciality of former servant girl Rosa Lewis who became a celebrity in the early 1900s through her rags-to-riches story. She started in domestic
service as a teenager and worked her way up through the ranks to become chief cook for the wealthy Duc d’Orléans. Having studied French cuisine she left service to start a business
catering for dinner parties at rich households and was so popular that she had to employ teams of cooks. Her fame spread and she even cooked for King Edward VII, who was said to be impressed.
In 1902, she bought her own hotel, The Cavendish, in London’s Jermyn Street. Thanks to her management and her legendary cooking skills, it soon became one of the most
exclusive hotels in London and earned her the nickname, the Duchess of Jermyn Street. The classic TV series,
Duchess of Duke Street
, was based on her life. And if there is any
doubt that a lowly servant girl could improve her lot with hard work and determination, the proof is in the pudding.
INGREDIENTS
50g / 2 oz butter
Pinch of fine herbs
12 quail breasts, skin removed
450g / 1lb Aberdeen Angus beef, fat removed, cut into thin slices
75g / 3 oz button mushrooms
50g / 2 oz shallots, sliced
150ml / 5 fl oz fresh orange juice
1 sprig of fresh thyme
2 tablespoons brandy
Salt and freshly milled black pepper
150ml/ 5 fl oz game sauce
225g / 8 oz suet pastry (
see
pastry)
METHOD
1. Melt the butter in a large frying pan, add the herbs, quail breasts, mushrooms and shallots and fry for six minutes. Remove the quail and set
aside.
2. Add the orange juice, thyme, brandy and seasoning to the
pan, bring to the boil and simmer for at least twenty minutes until the liquid is reduced by
half. Add the game sauce and reduce by half again.
FOR THE PASTRY
220g / 8 oz self-raising flour
1 level tsp baking powder
110g / 4 oz beef suet
Salt & freshly ground white pepper
Pinch of mace
Pinch of ground rosemary
60 ml approx of cold water to mix
1. Sieve the flour, salt, pepper and spices. Toss in the beef suet and stir in with a fork. Make a well in the centre and add just enough water to make workable dough. Knead
for a few minutes and use immediately.
2. Line a 20-cm/ 8-in. pudding basin with the suet pastry and lay the quail meat and beef, before pouring on the prepared sauce. Cover the top of the
basin with suet pastry and seal. Gently brush the top with melted butter and cover with a few layers of cooking foil. Steam the pudding in a covered saucepan for two hours, topping up the pan
with water as necessary.
Making ‘game chips’
First of all you peeled the potatoes, then you got a clean tea cloth and laid it out full length on the table and sliced the potatoes by hand so
thinly that when you held them up you could see right through them. They were like little rashers of wind. Then you covered them up with another cloth until they dried. Then you melted
fat – lard not dripping because that was too coloured – in a frying pan, a very deep one, and when it was boiling and blue smoke came off, you dropped these crisps in, one by
one, because if you dropped two in at a time they stuck together, they wouldn’t separate out. By the time you got the last one in, the first ones were already cooked, so it was a
mad rush to drop them in and get the first lot out again.
Margaret Powell,
Below Stairs
THE SEASON
From the middle of May to the middle of August, society families moved to their London homes for the ‘Season’. The summer was an endless round of balls, dinner
parties, trips to the ballet and the opera, racing at Ascot and Epsom and the Henley Regatta. For the London staff it meant a hugely increased workload, more dinner parties to cater for and the
occasional ball too. With so much socializing, the maid’s bedtime was often midnight or later and she would have to be up with the lark to
scrub floors and black-lead
the kitchen range. The master and mistress often brought servants with them to help out during the Season, leaving a skeleton staff at the country estate to keep the house ticking over, but it was
non-stop work from dusk to dawn nonetheless.