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Kitchen Essays
First published in The Times (London) during the 1920s, Kitchen Essays explains the proper way to make Lobster Newburg while offering fascinating insight into the social history of England.
Agnes Jekyll felt that cooking should fit the occasion and temperament and states that "a large crayfish or lobster rearing itself menacingly on its tail seems quite at home on a sideboard of a Brighton hotel-de-luxe, but will intimidate a shy guest at a small dinner-party." And that "a hardy sportsman should not be fed in the same way as a depressed financier."
Agnes Jekyll (1860-1937) was the daughter of William Graham, Liberal MP for Glasgow and patron of the Pre-Raphaelites. A celebrated hostess and entertainer, her first dinner party included Robert Browning, John Ruskin, and Edward Burne-Jones. She lived in Surrey, England.
Agnes Jekyll felt that cooking should fit the occasion and temperament and states that "a large crayfish or lobster rearing itself menacingly on its tail seems quite at home on a sideboard of a Brighton hotel-de-luxe, but will intimidate a shy guest at a small dinner-party." And that "a hardy sportsman should not be fed in the same way as a depressed financier."
Agnes Jekyll (1860-1937) was the daughter of William Graham, Liberal MP for Glasgow and patron of the Pre-Raphaelites. A celebrated hostess and entertainer, her first dinner party included Robert Browning, John Ruskin, and Edward Burne-Jones. She lived in Surrey, England.
264 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1922
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445 people want to read
About the author
Agnes Jekyll
3 books3 followersDame Agnes Graham Jekyll DBE (12 October 1861 – 28 January 1937) was a Scottish-born British artist, writer and philanthropist. The daughter of William Graham, Liberal MP for Glasgow (1865-1874) and patron of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, she was educated at home by governesses, and later attended King's College London.
She was created a Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire (DBE) in 1918 for her public works. Lady Jekyll first published Kitchen Essays (1922) in The Times, reprinted in 2001 by Persephone Books, "in which she was persuaded to pass on some of the wit and wisdom of her rare gift for clever and imaginative housekeeping".
She was created a Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire (DBE) in 1918 for her public works. Lady Jekyll first published Kitchen Essays (1922) in The Times, reprinted in 2001 by Persephone Books, "in which she was persuaded to pass on some of the wit and wisdom of her rare gift for clever and imaginative housekeeping".
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 36 reviews
October 27, 2015
So much aspic! Whipped egg whites get put into so many dishes! I read my husband a few recipes and his comment was, "she sounds like one of those chefs that cooks with plenty of liquor, if you know what I mean."
January 20, 2010
The Short of It:
A delightful distraction from the day-to-day.
The Rest of It:
Kitchen Essays is in fact, a collection of recipes, but it’s really quite a bit more than that. It’s a guide…almost a food bible of sorts for the hostess that needs a bit of help planning a menu. In the 1920s, every occasion was a party. Within its pages there are suggestions for a morning of Christmas shopping, dinner before a play, a Winter shooting party luncheon, and the section that got the most laughs out of me, For the Too Thin and For the Too Fat.
At just over 260 pages, I managed to stretch this one out for several months by reading a chapter at bedtime. It was the perfect antidote to a very stressful day. What I found incredibly humorous was the abundant use of butter and cream and the fact that nothing is really measured out. Meaning, that if you wanted to put these dishes together yourself, you’d have to do with a “walnut” piece of butter or a dribble of cream. Oh, and let’s not forget the clever use of aspic!
I think anyone that enjoys food and entertaining will really enjoy this one.
A delightful distraction from the day-to-day.
The Rest of It:
Kitchen Essays is in fact, a collection of recipes, but it’s really quite a bit more than that. It’s a guide…almost a food bible of sorts for the hostess that needs a bit of help planning a menu. In the 1920s, every occasion was a party. Within its pages there are suggestions for a morning of Christmas shopping, dinner before a play, a Winter shooting party luncheon, and the section that got the most laughs out of me, For the Too Thin and For the Too Fat.
At just over 260 pages, I managed to stretch this one out for several months by reading a chapter at bedtime. It was the perfect antidote to a very stressful day. What I found incredibly humorous was the abundant use of butter and cream and the fact that nothing is really measured out. Meaning, that if you wanted to put these dishes together yourself, you’d have to do with a “walnut” piece of butter or a dribble of cream. Oh, and let’s not forget the clever use of aspic!
I think anyone that enjoys food and entertaining will really enjoy this one.
February 21, 2024
3.5🌟 An eclectic and interesting collection of recipe essays from The Times. I wish that I liked this collection of essays more. I was intrigued by the slightly strange and "exotic" descriptions of recipes for many different occasions. The way that the essays were arranged is smart and appealing—each chapter concentrating on a specific event or type of eating situation like dinner before a play, picnics, vacation food, and Christmas meals.
I really enjoyed reading the recipes (even though I don't think I would ever make any of them), but the writing was not as agreeable. I always have a hard time with double negatives and a "stiff" writing style. I felt like the author was trying to be clever, but at the same time formal. It didn't have the same appeal to me as other "readable" cookery book authors, such as Nigel Slater, Laurie Colwin, Gladys Taber, Susan Branch, or Ruth Reichl.
But, overall, I liked it. This Persephone edition is gorgeous and so beautifully bound. I'm so grateful for the print size and large margins. I might not have enjoyed this collection as much if it was published by another company. Worth reading if you love old vintage recipes, but it wasn't quite as fun to read as I'd hoped.
I really enjoyed reading the recipes (even though I don't think I would ever make any of them), but the writing was not as agreeable. I always have a hard time with double negatives and a "stiff" writing style. I felt like the author was trying to be clever, but at the same time formal. It didn't have the same appeal to me as other "readable" cookery book authors, such as Nigel Slater, Laurie Colwin, Gladys Taber, Susan Branch, or Ruth Reichl.
But, overall, I liked it. This Persephone edition is gorgeous and so beautifully bound. I'm so grateful for the print size and large margins. I might not have enjoyed this collection as much if it was published by another company. Worth reading if you love old vintage recipes, but it wasn't quite as fun to read as I'd hoped.
September 9, 2019
Mi viene da pensare ch egli inglesi degli anni '20 non avessero denti, visto che secondo queste ricette qualunque cibo poteva e doveva essere frullato fino allo sfinimento.
Tuttavia sono le argute introduzioni alle ricette, i commenti alla società e ai suoi costumi, che fanno sorridere a ogni pagina. Agnes Jekyll ha un consiglio per ogni tipologia di persona, compreso il giovane scapolo che non saprebbe far bollire una pentola d'acqua, e per ogni momento dell'anno. Ogni consiglio è dato tenendo i piedi per terra, come quando riconosce che al parentado acido potrete offrire qualsiasi cosa e nulla andrà bene, per cui tanto vale mettersi il cuore in pace ancor prima di accendere il fornello.
Consigliato a chi ama il brit humour.
Tuttavia sono le argute introduzioni alle ricette, i commenti alla società e ai suoi costumi, che fanno sorridere a ogni pagina. Agnes Jekyll ha un consiglio per ogni tipologia di persona, compreso il giovane scapolo che non saprebbe far bollire una pentola d'acqua, e per ogni momento dell'anno. Ogni consiglio è dato tenendo i piedi per terra, come quando riconosce che al parentado acido potrete offrire qualsiasi cosa e nulla andrà bene, per cui tanto vale mettersi il cuore in pace ancor prima di accendere il fornello.
Consigliato a chi ama il brit humour.
March 8, 2018
This English collection offers a look into a past, privileged way of life, where the lady of the house needed to plan for the cook’s absence since the less experienced kitchen maid would be filling in. Published in 1922, these recipes are for experienced cooks with sometimes very general directions for preparation, amounts, and seasoning. A recipe for a Dutch Omelet begins: “Prepare some batter with milk, flour and 4 yolks of eggs.” The recipes reflect food preferences of the time, with the ingredients often being put through sieves/puréed or encased in aspic. And a few ingredients were unfamiliar, although perhaps it’s just the terminology that’s changed.
But among the thirty-five essays, there are also recipes for breakfast, tea-time, Venetian and Florentine food, dinners, tray food, rather elegant picnics, meatless meals, food for the punctual and the unpunctual, and holidays. There are some surprising and simple ideas: “Salted almonds are expensive, and by many thought indigestible; they can be understudied by a packet of the American cereal Puffed Wheat. A few spoonfuls of this, crisped hot in the oven and lying invitingly on small mother-o’-pearl shells, or in some such decorative and labor-saving receptacles before each guest, will comfort the shy, stem the torrent of the fluent-obvious, and generally promote a flow of that pleasant conversation, such as the late Lord Acton yearned for when he bade his friend remember that ‘One touch of ill nature makes the whole world kin.’”
And the author’s delightfully readable style offers apt descriptions and frequent quotations: “Toast, to be good, demands a glowing grate, a handy toasting fork, and a patient watcher—counsels of perfection indeed, for the ideal rack is like friendship and the immortality of the soul, almost too good to be true.”
But among the thirty-five essays, there are also recipes for breakfast, tea-time, Venetian and Florentine food, dinners, tray food, rather elegant picnics, meatless meals, food for the punctual and the unpunctual, and holidays. There are some surprising and simple ideas: “Salted almonds are expensive, and by many thought indigestible; they can be understudied by a packet of the American cereal Puffed Wheat. A few spoonfuls of this, crisped hot in the oven and lying invitingly on small mother-o’-pearl shells, or in some such decorative and labor-saving receptacles before each guest, will comfort the shy, stem the torrent of the fluent-obvious, and generally promote a flow of that pleasant conversation, such as the late Lord Acton yearned for when he bade his friend remember that ‘One touch of ill nature makes the whole world kin.’”
And the author’s delightfully readable style offers apt descriptions and frequent quotations: “Toast, to be good, demands a glowing grate, a handy toasting fork, and a patient watcher—counsels of perfection indeed, for the ideal rack is like friendship and the immortality of the soul, almost too good to be true.”
December 17, 2019
The majority of these recipes sound deeply disgusting -- stop putting things in aspic, Agnes, for the love of god! -- and the prose is belabored and overly ornate. And yet...these essays on cooking and hospitality are weirdly charming. Perhaps because, rather than a window to a past, they feel instead like insights into an alien culture. One where the servants having a single day off is a dreadful inconvenience, a recipe in the "Meatless Meals" chapter includes veal stock, and everything, everything must be run through a fine sieve.
November 23, 2021
I had wanted to read Lady Agnes Jekyll’s Kitchen Essays: With Recipes and Their Occasions for years, before spotting a beautiful illustrated Persephone Classic edition of the book in my local library. I picked it up immediately, of course. I am always so keen to read non-fiction based around food, as I’m sure anyone familiar with my reviews will know; it is one of those slightly niche genres which I love.
Between 1921 and 1922, Lady Agnes Jekyll wrote a series of letters for The Times, all of which were left unsigned. Persephone collected all of these together, and published them for the first time in 2001. A wealth of recipes - many of which are quite inventive, and perhaps a little surprising to the 21st-century eater – are interspersed amongst the longer form pieces.
As the subtitle of the book suggests, Lady Jekyll’s book contains many specificities for ‘occasions’ which the host of the early-1920s clearly encountered far more often than we do one hundred years later. The delightfully long names of each chapter illustrate this; they range from the perhaps more workable ‘Home Thoughts of Florence and Some Tuscan Recipes’ and ‘Some Breakfast-Time Suggestions’, to the more obscure ‘A Little Supper After the Play’, and ‘Luncheon for a Motor Excursion in Winter’. This continues throughout, as she recommends specific dishes for the likes of ‘a tropical week-end in July or August, when you might expect a jaded Cabinet Minister or a depressed financier, a critic from the Foreign Office or an epicure from the Guards Club…’. Lady Jekyll clearly moved in very different circles.
Lady Jekyll writes in her short preface that she collected these recipes ‘during years of housekeeping under varied conditions’, which included, of course, the First World War. Lady Jekyll was always the gracious host, and does not seem to have done any of the cooking herself. Kitchen Essays is, therefore, designed as a manual for the woman who instructs the woman that cooks. In the chapter entitled ‘In the Cook’s Absence’, Lady Jekyll suggests: ‘Leaving these instructions before your kitchen-maid’s eyes, the sound of your stimulating words of hope and faith in her ears, you will be able, as hitherto, to transfer most of the burden on to her shoulders, and go up to dress for dinner, feeling that you have done your duty…’.
In the first piece, ‘Old Friends with New Faces’, she writes: ‘… let us as housekeepers give more of our best brains to the work. We must put these thoroughbreds, Imagination, Generosity, Invention, into harness with our jaded hacks, Custom, Thrift, and the Commonplace, as they drag along Time’s hurrying chariot to the often depressing sound of the family gong.’ She speaks of ‘Thrift’, but actually, the reach of Kitchen Essays is not for the Everywoman cook of the 1920s. Rather, a lot of the more exotic ingredients which she speaks about – such as pineapples – were difficult to get hold of at the time, and were therefore prohibitively expensive for the majority.
I loved the amusing and witty comments which Jekyll throws in; for instance, following her idea of a dish which would be a good choice with which to replace the ‘dreary’ weekly Roast Leg of Mutton, she writes: ‘Your spinster aunt will certainly accuse you of undue extravagance after she has partaken freely of this dish.’ The language which she uses throughout is, and she definitely comes up with some interesting and unusual turns of phrase. She encourages her readers to do such things as ‘capture a stately pineapple’, and to ‘mollify the fastidious purist or placate the peppermint hater’. She also implores the public not to allow a hot dish to ‘cool its heels’ on the way from the kitchen to the formal dining room.
Lady Jekyll’s writing is very detailed, and appears almost over the top in places. Of ‘Morello Cherries shrouded in brandy’, she writes, for instance: ‘Pussyfoots love them served in glasses with becoming caps of fluffy cream, and will mellow visibly under their influences, sweet as those of the Pleiades.’ As one might expect from this, she also offers incredibly particular suggestions for the presentation of food; one lobster dish is ‘best,’ she says, ‘when daintily served in white china ramekin cases of fair size’.
Lady Jekyll also implores her audience that it is vital to keep a huge amount of equipment in the cook’s arsenal, and does not seem to trust any ‘modern’ methods of cooking anything whatsoever. When making toast, for instance, she recommends ‘a glowing grate, a handy toasting-fork, and a patient watcher’. She goes on to comment: ‘An electric griller can be used successfully by those who can successfully use such contraptions, but the elemental toasting-fork, the patient watcher before the fire, and a go-between, with the honour of the house at heart, are really the truest solution.’
I liked the way in which Lady Jekyll included recipes from different cuisines, although the historical accuracy of these does sometimes seem a little stretched. She details the processes to make ‘a summer luncheon sweet, popular in Sweden’, an ice ‘acquired from a Muscovite friend’, a layered ‘Dutch omelet’, and a beefsteak ‘a la Russe’. She believes that ‘lighter nourishment’ is a whole quail encased in puff pastry…
Kitchen Essays is certainly an historical document with a lot of value. It was fascinating to read, and whilst I don’t think I’ll be recreating many of Lady Jekyll’s recipes, I did enjoy learning about different techniques which I’ve not used before, and ingredients which are perhaps a little niche in the modern Western world. Whilst I might consider making some of the apple desserts which she includes, I am definitely going to steer clear of ‘mutton kidneys’ and ‘Calf’s brain’. Kitchen Essays evokes a different world entirely, and provides a wonderful glimpse into a bygone age.
Between 1921 and 1922, Lady Agnes Jekyll wrote a series of letters for The Times, all of which were left unsigned. Persephone collected all of these together, and published them for the first time in 2001. A wealth of recipes - many of which are quite inventive, and perhaps a little surprising to the 21st-century eater – are interspersed amongst the longer form pieces.
As the subtitle of the book suggests, Lady Jekyll’s book contains many specificities for ‘occasions’ which the host of the early-1920s clearly encountered far more often than we do one hundred years later. The delightfully long names of each chapter illustrate this; they range from the perhaps more workable ‘Home Thoughts of Florence and Some Tuscan Recipes’ and ‘Some Breakfast-Time Suggestions’, to the more obscure ‘A Little Supper After the Play’, and ‘Luncheon for a Motor Excursion in Winter’. This continues throughout, as she recommends specific dishes for the likes of ‘a tropical week-end in July or August, when you might expect a jaded Cabinet Minister or a depressed financier, a critic from the Foreign Office or an epicure from the Guards Club…’. Lady Jekyll clearly moved in very different circles.
Lady Jekyll writes in her short preface that she collected these recipes ‘during years of housekeeping under varied conditions’, which included, of course, the First World War. Lady Jekyll was always the gracious host, and does not seem to have done any of the cooking herself. Kitchen Essays is, therefore, designed as a manual for the woman who instructs the woman that cooks. In the chapter entitled ‘In the Cook’s Absence’, Lady Jekyll suggests: ‘Leaving these instructions before your kitchen-maid’s eyes, the sound of your stimulating words of hope and faith in her ears, you will be able, as hitherto, to transfer most of the burden on to her shoulders, and go up to dress for dinner, feeling that you have done your duty…’.
In the first piece, ‘Old Friends with New Faces’, she writes: ‘… let us as housekeepers give more of our best brains to the work. We must put these thoroughbreds, Imagination, Generosity, Invention, into harness with our jaded hacks, Custom, Thrift, and the Commonplace, as they drag along Time’s hurrying chariot to the often depressing sound of the family gong.’ She speaks of ‘Thrift’, but actually, the reach of Kitchen Essays is not for the Everywoman cook of the 1920s. Rather, a lot of the more exotic ingredients which she speaks about – such as pineapples – were difficult to get hold of at the time, and were therefore prohibitively expensive for the majority.
I loved the amusing and witty comments which Jekyll throws in; for instance, following her idea of a dish which would be a good choice with which to replace the ‘dreary’ weekly Roast Leg of Mutton, she writes: ‘Your spinster aunt will certainly accuse you of undue extravagance after she has partaken freely of this dish.’ The language which she uses throughout is, and she definitely comes up with some interesting and unusual turns of phrase. She encourages her readers to do such things as ‘capture a stately pineapple’, and to ‘mollify the fastidious purist or placate the peppermint hater’. She also implores the public not to allow a hot dish to ‘cool its heels’ on the way from the kitchen to the formal dining room.
Lady Jekyll’s writing is very detailed, and appears almost over the top in places. Of ‘Morello Cherries shrouded in brandy’, she writes, for instance: ‘Pussyfoots love them served in glasses with becoming caps of fluffy cream, and will mellow visibly under their influences, sweet as those of the Pleiades.’ As one might expect from this, she also offers incredibly particular suggestions for the presentation of food; one lobster dish is ‘best,’ she says, ‘when daintily served in white china ramekin cases of fair size’.
Lady Jekyll also implores her audience that it is vital to keep a huge amount of equipment in the cook’s arsenal, and does not seem to trust any ‘modern’ methods of cooking anything whatsoever. When making toast, for instance, she recommends ‘a glowing grate, a handy toasting-fork, and a patient watcher’. She goes on to comment: ‘An electric griller can be used successfully by those who can successfully use such contraptions, but the elemental toasting-fork, the patient watcher before the fire, and a go-between, with the honour of the house at heart, are really the truest solution.’
I liked the way in which Lady Jekyll included recipes from different cuisines, although the historical accuracy of these does sometimes seem a little stretched. She details the processes to make ‘a summer luncheon sweet, popular in Sweden’, an ice ‘acquired from a Muscovite friend’, a layered ‘Dutch omelet’, and a beefsteak ‘a la Russe’. She believes that ‘lighter nourishment’ is a whole quail encased in puff pastry…
Kitchen Essays is certainly an historical document with a lot of value. It was fascinating to read, and whilst I don’t think I’ll be recreating many of Lady Jekyll’s recipes, I did enjoy learning about different techniques which I’ve not used before, and ingredients which are perhaps a little niche in the modern Western world. Whilst I might consider making some of the apple desserts which she includes, I am definitely going to steer clear of ‘mutton kidneys’ and ‘Calf’s brain’. Kitchen Essays evokes a different world entirely, and provides a wonderful glimpse into a bygone age.
December 6, 2021
A fascinating bit of social history. But the recipes sound disgusting to me. My palate is clearly not refined enough!
May 21, 2023
Nicely written, but I don’t plan on becoming a good housewife soon, so…
January 22, 2023
Mlle Alice, pouvez-vous nous raconter votre rencontre avec Kitchen Essays ?
"Je collectionne les Persephone Classics, je les veux tous et celui-ci a une couverture qui me plaît particulièrement alors je ne pouvais que finir par craquer."
Dites-nous en un peu plus sur son histoire...
"Il s'agit d'un ouvrage qui rassemble les conseils domestiques et recettes que Lady Jekyll écrivait pour le Times au début des années 20."
Mais que s'est-il exactement passé entre vous ?
"J'ai vraiment ri en lisant cet essai. Parfois, parce que l'auteur était volontairement drôle, parfois à ses dépens je l'avoue. Le léger souper qu'elle recommande avant de se rendre au théâtre est énorme, on se rend vite compte que malgré tous ses conseils pratiques, elle a en fait domestiques et cuisiniers pour les réaliser, et si elle parle d'économie en temps de guerre, ça ne l'empêche pas de nous recommander caviar, foie gras et ananas ! Bref, son snobisme est sûrement l'un des éléments les plus amusants de cette lecture même si sa plume vive et sarcastique me fait regretter qu'elle n'ait pas écrit des romans. En dehors de cela, les recettes sont vraiment extrêmement nombreuses et peu réalisables qui plus est. Il faut donc vraiment voir ce texte comme un document illustrant son époque et rien de plus."
Et comment cela s'est-il fini ?
"Je ne peux pas dire que je regrette de l'avoir lu mais d'un autre côté, je me demande quand même si conserver et rééditer un tel texte, qui plus est dans la collection Classics de Persephone Books, était vraiment indispensable."
http://booksaremywonderland.hautetfor...
"Je collectionne les Persephone Classics, je les veux tous et celui-ci a une couverture qui me plaît particulièrement alors je ne pouvais que finir par craquer."
Dites-nous en un peu plus sur son histoire...
"Il s'agit d'un ouvrage qui rassemble les conseils domestiques et recettes que Lady Jekyll écrivait pour le Times au début des années 20."
Mais que s'est-il exactement passé entre vous ?
"J'ai vraiment ri en lisant cet essai. Parfois, parce que l'auteur était volontairement drôle, parfois à ses dépens je l'avoue. Le léger souper qu'elle recommande avant de se rendre au théâtre est énorme, on se rend vite compte que malgré tous ses conseils pratiques, elle a en fait domestiques et cuisiniers pour les réaliser, et si elle parle d'économie en temps de guerre, ça ne l'empêche pas de nous recommander caviar, foie gras et ananas ! Bref, son snobisme est sûrement l'un des éléments les plus amusants de cette lecture même si sa plume vive et sarcastique me fait regretter qu'elle n'ait pas écrit des romans. En dehors de cela, les recettes sont vraiment extrêmement nombreuses et peu réalisables qui plus est. Il faut donc vraiment voir ce texte comme un document illustrant son époque et rien de plus."
Et comment cela s'est-il fini ?
"Je ne peux pas dire que je regrette de l'avoir lu mais d'un autre côté, je me demande quand même si conserver et rééditer un tel texte, qui plus est dans la collection Classics de Persephone Books, était vraiment indispensable."
http://booksaremywonderland.hautetfor...
May 17, 2016
What a bygone age? It is a time capsule of life way back when..... social history in its purest form. AJ is the great Gertrude Jekyll's sister in law and regularly wrote for the food pages of The Times, some of the choicest have been collected together into this book. I'm not sure I will be ever using any of her selected recipes - calfs' heart does not inspire me - but the images she creates - a winter shooting party luncheon, country friends to a christmas shopping luncheon, bachelors entertaining and food for the punctual and the unpunctual are wonderful.
Toast
Toast
September 6, 2024
It’s been a long while since I’ve read a book with as much delight. I picked it up for a dollar at a consignment store intending to give it as a gift, but made the “mistake” of perusing the first chapter.
This is a wonderfully wholesome, simple (in a good way) but not, period book of essays on preparing food.
“It is not thought praiseworthy to wear nasty clothes, to have ugly flowers in the garden, dull books on the table, comfortless furniture in the home, and horrid pictures on the walls. Why, then, are God‘s good gifts of food and drink to be spoiled by stupidity and mismanagement?”
It shows its age (“An electric griller can be used successfully by those who can successfully use such contraptions, but the elemental toasting fork, the patient watcher before the fire, and a go-between, with the honour of the house at heart, are really the truest solution.”) and I loved every page of it for that reason. In the age of microwave dinners “made” by working moms and families that rarely eat together, let alone go to the countryside or picnic- this was refreshing.
So many things must be run through a fine sieve…and yet I may actually go back and make some of these recipes (probably not the many with aspic), though the measurements were humorous at times:
“two teacups of crumbs”
“a walnut of fresh butter”
“boil sufficient rice”
“an overflowing baptism of maple syrup”
“a gay radish or two”
“some attractive bits of lettuce”
“a fagot of parsley”
“a tiny saddle of English lamb”
“a suspicion of tomato sauce”
Directions were equally so, or out of the ordinary:
“until faintly pink as the underneath of a young mushroom”
“as the delicate brown of fading magnolias”
“bake in a not very hot oven”
“browned with a red-hot salamander”
“use a fire proof dish”
Other favorite phrases/quotes include:
“cut up a nice chicken”
“the flavour a far more ethereal one and endured with the compelling power of the Blarney Stone”
“Remember the whole tone of the day can be set into a happy major key instead of into a mournful minor one by the mirror aspect of the breakfast tray.”
“ If that insidious enemy, soup, be held indispensable at dinner…” (essay For the Too Fat)
“ it must not air on the side of parsimony, nor yet why it’s lavishness vex those new relations or old aunts who’s attitude has been actually characterized as ‘affectionate, but hostile.’” (Their First Dinner Party)
There was also an essay on Meatless Meals but included fish and eggs. 🤷🏼♀️
I enjoyed looking up various unfamiliar terms and researching the origin of things like “Harvey Sauce”, and hope to return to this book in the future.
This is a wonderfully wholesome, simple (in a good way) but not, period book of essays on preparing food.
“It is not thought praiseworthy to wear nasty clothes, to have ugly flowers in the garden, dull books on the table, comfortless furniture in the home, and horrid pictures on the walls. Why, then, are God‘s good gifts of food and drink to be spoiled by stupidity and mismanagement?”
It shows its age (“An electric griller can be used successfully by those who can successfully use such contraptions, but the elemental toasting fork, the patient watcher before the fire, and a go-between, with the honour of the house at heart, are really the truest solution.”) and I loved every page of it for that reason. In the age of microwave dinners “made” by working moms and families that rarely eat together, let alone go to the countryside or picnic- this was refreshing.
So many things must be run through a fine sieve…and yet I may actually go back and make some of these recipes (probably not the many with aspic), though the measurements were humorous at times:
“two teacups of crumbs”
“a walnut of fresh butter”
“boil sufficient rice”
“an overflowing baptism of maple syrup”
“a gay radish or two”
“some attractive bits of lettuce”
“a fagot of parsley”
“a tiny saddle of English lamb”
“a suspicion of tomato sauce”
Directions were equally so, or out of the ordinary:
“until faintly pink as the underneath of a young mushroom”
“as the delicate brown of fading magnolias”
“bake in a not very hot oven”
“browned with a red-hot salamander”
“use a fire proof dish”
Other favorite phrases/quotes include:
“cut up a nice chicken”
“the flavour a far more ethereal one and endured with the compelling power of the Blarney Stone”
“Remember the whole tone of the day can be set into a happy major key instead of into a mournful minor one by the mirror aspect of the breakfast tray.”
“ If that insidious enemy, soup, be held indispensable at dinner…” (essay For the Too Fat)
“ it must not air on the side of parsimony, nor yet why it’s lavishness vex those new relations or old aunts who’s attitude has been actually characterized as ‘affectionate, but hostile.’” (Their First Dinner Party)
There was also an essay on Meatless Meals but included fish and eggs. 🤷🏼♀️
I enjoyed looking up various unfamiliar terms and researching the origin of things like “Harvey Sauce”, and hope to return to this book in the future.
August 8, 2023
Lady Agnes Jekyll was a prominent member and renowned hostess of both artistic circles and British civil servant ones at the turn of the 20th century and through WWI. Her sister Gertrude called her an 'artist-housekeeper'. Anonymously for a year stretching from summer 1921 through Easter of 1922. Lady Jekyll published periodically in The Times short culinary essays designed to aid households slowly return to pre-war (and no doubt pre-Spanish Flu epidemic isolation) levels of entertainment and socialization while coping with the shortages and austerity still present. [Need I point out the irony of reading this just as we all struggle to resume a similar normalcy after COVID-19 pandemic isolation. Or perhaps it is Fate's little nudge to me.] In 1922, upon popular demand, Lady Jekyll compiled the essays together and published them in a single volume. Thanks to the wonderful Persephone Classics imprint, this unique essay collection, described by Nigella Lawson as "an enchanting period piece and in its own quirky intelligent way, a culinary gem" is available to shed light on a very unique time in Britain.
It was hard to rate this, so I settled for the middle of the rating system. Do not see that as a negative judgment of its merit or my enjoyment.This is not a book you sit down and read cover to cover. I have been reading one or two essays every few days, just as you would have as they were published, over the last 3 months. You do not read these for actual recipes you want to attempt - too much aspic, mutton and unappealing offal meats, boiled everything, and cream. I am, however going to try the Toasted Cheese a/k/a Welsh Rarebit which had me drooling. You read these for the witty discourse, literary references, and charming vintage style of cooking and measuring. Anyone know how big a 2-shilling-piece crouton is? Or how much a breakfastcup full is or a dessertspoonful? Anyone else remember or even know what temp is a quick oven vs. a moderate one?
You read this for passages like this from the Tray Food essay: "Ill-health may be said to resemble greatness in that some are born to it, some achieve it, and some have it thrust upon them." Have truer word ever been said?
It was hard to rate this, so I settled for the middle of the rating system. Do not see that as a negative judgment of its merit or my enjoyment.This is not a book you sit down and read cover to cover. I have been reading one or two essays every few days, just as you would have as they were published, over the last 3 months. You do not read these for actual recipes you want to attempt - too much aspic, mutton and unappealing offal meats, boiled everything, and cream. I am, however going to try the Toasted Cheese a/k/a Welsh Rarebit which had me drooling. You read these for the witty discourse, literary references, and charming vintage style of cooking and measuring. Anyone know how big a 2-shilling-piece crouton is? Or how much a breakfastcup full is or a dessertspoonful? Anyone else remember or even know what temp is a quick oven vs. a moderate one?
You read this for passages like this from the Tray Food essay: "Ill-health may be said to resemble greatness in that some are born to it, some achieve it, and some have it thrust upon them." Have truer word ever been said?
June 18, 2023
You know those food blogs where there’s loads of preamble before the recipe, this is the 1920s version of that. It’s a fun read for the social history aspect, that if your cook is visiting her frequently sick mother, the housemaid can cook lobster and suggestions for a hunting party dinner give you a taste of that. The recipes are a bit bleak, they all sound very brown, so many mousses and jellys. There’s lots of “prepare the pheasant on the usual way” sort of instructions, very few measurements and lots of “cook for six hours”. And if anyone can stomach sardine and egg mousses for breakfast as an alternative to marmalade I would be surprised.
December 16, 2025
Certainly not for most readers, or even many readers, but a charming glimpse into the English kitchen post WW I. More kinds of food were available, including tinned baby corn and peaches from America. Many of these recipes address cooks, but some address the lady of the house, or even a bachelor.
Good luck figuring out a "breakfast cup of milk" or "1s of shrimp", but that is part of the fun.
Good luck figuring out a "breakfast cup of milk" or "1s of shrimp", but that is part of the fun.
January 15, 2019
Seeing as this is a collection of essays written and published in 1922, a good portion of the hosting advice and recipes provided by Lady Jekyll are a bit outdated. However, there are moments of sage advice and fun witticisms that pop up. If you love learning about food history, this would be a good book to have in your collection.
August 8, 2019
So much fun! It took a little bit to get into, but it was a fascinating look at food and society in England in 1920. The Great War is over, people are entertaining again—and many of Ms. Jekyll’s readers have cooks, so that adds another interesting turn on her suggestions. Loved it, and even marked a few of the easier-looking recipes to try.
June 6, 2020
Interestingly opinionated, yet cringingly dated.
September 18, 2020
So delightfully, quirkily British.
Read
September 29, 2020Delightful little collection of essays which purport to be about good cookery and good housekeeping but manages to add dollops of good philosophical life lessons to the mix.
Want to read
February 1, 2021I learned of this book here: https://twitter.com/JanetEmson/status...
August 5, 2025
Unusual and also entertaining. “No experienced traveller starts without a flask of brandy…”
A little window into the British food era of the early 20th century
A little window into the British food era of the early 20th century
October 2, 2025
So. much. aspic. But also really fun to read, Jekyll is witty, well educated, droll, and must have been a fantastic hostess. Another winner from Persephone Press.
January 27, 2019
I purchased this book as part of a recent haul from Persephone, and although essays on cooking is not a genre I would usually reach for, the blurb was intriguing enough for me to add it to my pile.
On the surface, this is a collection of recipes and cookery advice, reflective of a time when households were beginning to be structured without extensive use of live-in help, and covering a range of potential situations. Tucked within, however, are snippets of philosophy, poetry and wit, as though the author could almost predict the satirical nature some of the scenarios would have in the future.
A fun slice of the past.
On the surface, this is a collection of recipes and cookery advice, reflective of a time when households were beginning to be structured without extensive use of live-in help, and covering a range of potential situations. Tucked within, however, are snippets of philosophy, poetry and wit, as though the author could almost predict the satirical nature some of the scenarios would have in the future.
A fun slice of the past.
May 5, 2020
Kitchen Essays started out as columns in The Times, but lovely Persephone Books collected them and put them between beautiful dove-grey covers. Reading them is like experiencing a mad, but not unpleasant, dream, where the correct preparation of Lobster Newburg (eh?) is discussed alongside deeper moral questions (“choosing well is one of the most difficult things in a difficult world”).
October 10, 2011
I thought this would be an old-fashioned recipe book a la Mrs Beeton but it's not like that at all. It's a collection of articles written for The Times in the early 1920s by Agnes, Lady Jekyll, each one around a food-related theme or occasion.
The articles do contain recipes, but I was quite happy to read and imagine, without ever wanting to cook or taste. This is partly because many of the recipes are extremely demanding of labour and time - Lady Jekyll assumes that her readers will have a full-time cook. Then there is the question of ingredients. Many of the recipes require industrial quantities of butter and cream, along with several things that are not so easy to find these days. Calves' feet, anyone? And how much is "sixpence worth of tarragon"?
My favourite quote is from 'On Wedding Breakfasts': "Marriage feasts resemble the institution they celebrate, of which Montaigne observed that those within its confines often struggled to get out, whilst those without endeavoured to get in."
Recommended for anyone interested in social history, particularly of 1920s England.
The articles do contain recipes, but I was quite happy to read and imagine, without ever wanting to cook or taste. This is partly because many of the recipes are extremely demanding of labour and time - Lady Jekyll assumes that her readers will have a full-time cook. Then there is the question of ingredients. Many of the recipes require industrial quantities of butter and cream, along with several things that are not so easy to find these days. Calves' feet, anyone? And how much is "sixpence worth of tarragon"?
My favourite quote is from 'On Wedding Breakfasts': "Marriage feasts resemble the institution they celebrate, of which Montaigne observed that those within its confines often struggled to get out, whilst those without endeavoured to get in."
Recommended for anyone interested in social history, particularly of 1920s England.
January 15, 2015
Between 1921-1922 Lady Agnes Jekyll wrote a number of columns on food for the Times. This book is a collection of those columns. Part essays on food and part recipes this is an enjoyable read for those with an interest in the history of food and housekeeping. Her writing is light and often humorous. She includes appropriate meals for shooting party luncheons, supper before or after plays, sick or invalid trays, nursery treats, and many other occasions that certainly show her distinct place in history.
The recipes themselves are probably manageable for some cooks, but don't include modern measurements, equipment, or readily available foods. But for me, what was being eaten at the time was of more interest than how to prepare it myself - lots of gelatine in unexpected places and aspic dishes, as well as offal. However, it was assumed by the writer, that most of her readers would be passing along the recipes to their cooks rather than preparing them on their own.
The recipes themselves are probably manageable for some cooks, but don't include modern measurements, equipment, or readily available foods. But for me, what was being eaten at the time was of more interest than how to prepare it myself - lots of gelatine in unexpected places and aspic dishes, as well as offal. However, it was assumed by the writer, that most of her readers would be passing along the recipes to their cooks rather than preparing them on their own.
September 16, 2011
This is a collection of newspaper articles surrounding cooking and dining from the 1920's in England. While I admit that most of the recipes hold little interest to me, with a few too many things like Calves Brains and Sheep Tongue, and jellied aspic, the social commentary and insight into the lives of the British at that time are fascinating. There are chapters on what to serve at a shooting party luncheon, meals for a motoring excursion, and meals for bachelors. More pointedly are recipes for those too fat and those to thin, and surprisingly, a chapter on meatless meals. There were a few recipes that did pique my interest including Cat's Tongue Biscuits (named for their shape rather than an ingredient!), Thatched House Pudding, and Burnt House Cake, to name a few. It is a fairly light and quick read and as each chapter is from an article, it is easy to pick up and read a bit at time.
October 30, 2015
This book is a collection of newspaper articles about food and cooking from Britain in the 1920's. It's a window into the past. A place where people find recipes to give to servants to cook for them, and cover all their food with aspic. There are suggestions for what to serve to a hunting party, and what to feed people when you are entertaining guests at Christmas, or at your house in town, and many other suggestions.
I am on a paleo, no seeds, nuts, grains, or dairy diet so there was not one recipe in here that I could eat, but that wan't the point of the book for me. It also called for strange kitchen utensils like a "hair sieve" which sounds gross, but probably just means a fine mesh sieve. Although I was too lazy to look it up for sure.
A fun look at the history of food.
I am on a paleo, no seeds, nuts, grains, or dairy diet so there was not one recipe in here that I could eat, but that wan't the point of the book for me. It also called for strange kitchen utensils like a "hair sieve" which sounds gross, but probably just means a fine mesh sieve. Although I was too lazy to look it up for sure.
A fun look at the history of food.
July 20, 2025
Not what I thought it would be. I recently read Monica Dicken’s marvelous memoir about working as a cook in England in the 1930s and thought this book would be an excellent complement to her memoir. Wrong. There is very little exposition about when to use the recipes, which was mainly what I was looking for. The recipes were mildly interesting in that you can see what upper middle class and upper class Britons might have been eating. The recipes weren’t wacky enough to be particularly funny and they didn’t sound yummy enough that you would want to make them. All in all surprisingly dull and I’m glad I only checked it out from the library and didn’t purchase it.
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