“May I give you some of this poached turbot?” (February 24, 1814)
In the course
of the nineteenth century, the style of service at dinner switched from à la française to à la russe, with footmen going round the table offering dishes to
the guests, who served themselves – the style you know from Downton Abbey. In
the early decades, however, the dishes were arranged on the table for guests to
serve each other: “The meal was as elaborate as the resources of the family
would allow – that is, as the skill and number of their servants could produce.
Multiple dishes of fish, meat and game would be placed on the table, together
with a few side dishes of vegetables and two or three puddings. This was known
as a ‘course‘ […]. In grander households, the remains would be cleared away and
a second, similar course of savoury and sweet dishes would follow, with the
emphasis this time less on great joints of meat and more on ‘made‘ dishes. Next
the cloth would be removed and an assortment of nuts, sweetmeats, etc. would be
placed on the table with wine; this was known as ‘dessert‘, and at this point
the servants would withdraw. Finally the hostess would rise, at which signal
all the other women followed her to the drawing room, leaving the men a further
hour or so of drinking and uninhibited conversation in the dining room. (Maggie
Lane, Jane Austen’s World, p. 41;
also see Daniel Pool, What Jane Austen
Ate and Dickens Knew, p. 75).
Georgian-age cookery is something I have started to explore in greater detail since acquiring Pen Vogler's Dinner with Mr Darcy – purely for research purposes, nothing to do with it being a gorgeous book with hands-on recipes!
The title is deceptive, however, since the book covers everything from breakfast to after-dinner tea. Here's my attempt at Ms Vogler's recipe for "Jane's Sponge Cake":
In An Independent Heart, I was careful to limit the dishes to the staples we know from the literature of the age, making sure
they were in season. Louise Allen's blog about Jane Austen's London has some wonderful sources and background, including recipes and a kind of map for a table setting!
With this
style of service, it was important to know how to carve – and as far as I know people did not remove their gloves for dinner! If you happened
to have a joint of meat before you on the table, you were meant to carve for
your neighbours. Pen Vogler quotes the Earl of Chesterfield's advice to his son: "Do you use yourself to carve adroitly and genteely, without hacking half an hour across a bone, without bespattering the company with the sauce, and without overturning the glasses into your neighbours' pockets." (Vogler, p. 35) The sources invariably focus on joints of meat, but the same probably applied with fish, even more daunting! As a compliment (or a kindness) to guests at the other end of
the table, you could send them a helping from a special dish in your vicinity; if
it was something very special, you could render yourself quite unpopular by not
doing so! For someone naturally shy or reserved it must have been quite an
ordeal…
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Alexander van Adrianssen, Bodegón: pescados y un gato tras la mesa [Still Life: Fish and a Cat behind the Table], ca. 1600–1650 |
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