View allAll Photos Tagged yorkshirepudding
Yorkshire pudding is a baked pudding made from a batter of eggs, flour, and milk or water. A common English side dish, it is a versatile food that can be served in numerous ways.
24th January 2021:
... Yorkshire puddings.
I should have gone out yesterday afternoon, when it was sunny, as today it's been wet again and very nippy.
I had thought of making some for lunch today, but didn't get round to making the batter, so they're something to look forward too.
This was one of my Christmas presents to myself and I'm going to enjoy using it, especially in the new oven. Although this is the first silicone one I have had.
Today is : Beer Can Appreciation Day - nationaldaycalendar.com/beer-can-appreciation-day-january...
Well if you say so. 😏
And for the Silly News it's : Compliment Day - www.timeanddate.com/holidays/fun/compliment-day
A very good day. 😀
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites.
Beef joint rolled in wholegrain mustard with carrot and turnip mash, peas, Lyonnaise potatos and the best bit of the whole meal .....Yorkshire puddings.
Toad in the Hole - a truly British dish (even Wikipedia says so!). Made from Yorkshire Pudding batter (Hole) and sausages (Toad) and usually eat with mashed potatoes, vegetables and onion gravy.
By Andrew. Photography group "Britishness" assignment.
Weathers at bit miserable and wet, so I knocked out a few puds.
Cooks perks, I had the larger one in the front row, with slow cooked pork, creamy mash, carrots, green beans, and onion gravy. 😋
Oh, the gal Margaret? She had the next largest pud.😀.
Hey, I know you don't need to know any of this, but it's a wet day again!! 😏.
Thought I had better get some made after yesterdays failure.
Now in Norfolk, way back when I was a boy, we always called 'em 'batta puduns'. 😊.
Sunday Roast served in a Giant Yorkshire Pudding at The Crooked Billet near Saxton, Tadcaster. All home made food & tasted delicious.
A map to the location of this lovely pub / restaurant
DADDY: “Goodness Malachi! What are you doing?”
MALACHI: “I should have thought that was obvious, Daddy! I’m enjoying a little read whilst I’m letting my dinner cool down a little!”
DADDY: “Yes, I can see that. My real question is why are you sitting on top of my 1936 copy of Bill Brandt’s ‘The English at Home’? And perhaps more importantly, why are you eating over it, Malachi?”
MALACHI: “Well, it seemed to me to be a capital place for dinner. Why do you ask?”
DADDY: “Well, I was going to use it as a reference book for a written project I’m working on.”
MALACHI: “And here I was, thinking you had left it out, just for me, Daddy.”
DADDY: “I’m afraid not, Malachi. Now, may I please have my book?”
MALACHI: “I’m afraid not, Daddy.”
DADDY: “Whyever not, Malachi?”
MALACHI: “Well, I’ve just sat down to read and to eat. I’m afraid that you will simply have to be patient.”
DADDY: “I’m not entirely sure that you should be eating over my 1936 copy of Bill Brandt’s ‘The English at Home, Malachi.”
MALACHI: “Oh, don’t worry Daddy, I’ll wipe my paws well before and after eating.”
DADDY: “Very well, Malachi.” *Sits and waits.*
MALACHI: “What are you doing, Daddy?”
DADDY: “I’m being patient, Malachi. I’m waiting for you to start, and then finish eating, so I can have my book.”
MALACHI: “Well, I do hope you won’t mind waiting for a while, Daddy. You know I like to savour my dinner, and my dessert.”
DADDY: “I see you dinner of Beef Wellington and bread and butter, washed down with some beer. But where is your dessert, Malachi?”
MALACHI: “I hadn’t thought about it before now, but since you mention it, do you have any Bourbon biscuits?”
The theme for “Smile on Saturday” for the 7th of August is “begins with B”, where the challenge is to photograph one or more items starting with the letter B. When I saw the theme, of course I thought of my bears, as anyone who follows my photostream will be aware that I love teddy bears! However, I wanted to try and get a few more things beginning with the letter B in my shot. If you follow my photostream, you may also know that I collect 1:12 size miniatures, some of which have featured in past themes in the “Smile on Saturday” group. These miniatures gave me the solution. Since Malachi, my miniature 1:12 size bear has featured in several of “Looking Close on Friday’s” themes I thought it was time to show him off in “Smile on Saturday” in the “begins with B” theme this week! Malachi the BEAR is sitting on my 1936 first edition BOOK of BILL BRANDT’s ‘The English at Home’, reading a BOOK, whilst enjoying a dinner of BEEF, BREAD with BUTTER and a BOTTLE of BEER. That seems to be a few things that “begin with the letter B”. Whether you call this a moment of madness, whimsy or both, I do hope that you like my choice, and that this photograph makes you smile!
Malachi I acquired in mid-March 2020 (and mid Coronavirus) from a wonderful Melbourne stalwart toy shop: Dafel Dolls and Bears, when I went looking for a present for one of my goddaughters. Malachi is designed by Mary and hand-made by Wendy Joy in Australia. He has articulated arms and legs, and an extremely sweet face. Malachi was the name he came with, written by hand on his little tag.
Malachi is reading a 1:12 size miniature book made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. ‘The Twins ABC’ is one such book and you can even read some of the words inside and see the black and white illustrations quite clearly. I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. In this case ‘The Twins ABC’ is an Edwardian children’s book published in 1901 and published by Liberty and Company. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter. I hope that you enjoy this glimpse at just one of hundreds of his books that I own, and that it makes you smile with its sheer whimsy!
The Beef Wellington carved on the plate, the plate of beef, vegetables and roast potatoes, the gravy boat, the cottage loaf of bread and the butter wrapped in foil have all been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination.
The glass of beer and the bottle of strong ale are vintage pieces I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dollhouse Shop in England. Both the bottle and the glass of beer are made of real glass and the label on the bottle is authentic.
Malachi sits on my first edition 1936 imprint of the rare ‘The English at Home’, filled with black and white illustrations by the famous British photographer, Bill Brandt (1904 – 1983). It was his first published book, and many did not survive the Blitz on London just a few years after this book was published. It shows the contrasts between upper-class and working-class life in Britain at the time.
Single servings of toad in the hole, a classic English dish sporting sausages in Yorkshire pudding batter.
Taken in Adachi-ku, Tokyo.
Last weekend was my first time to see and photograph Tokyo Skytree from the Arakawa River side. To date 100% of my pics where taken by the adjacent Sumida River, so it was great to get some fresh views of this incredible structure that illuminates the city. More to follow, thanks for looking.
Canon EOS 60D | RAW | ISO 100 | 10s | f/9.0 | Lens at 64mm | AWB |
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we are northwest of Lettice’s flat, in the working-class London suburb of Harlesden where Edith, Lettice’s maid, is staying with her parents for Christmas. Edith’s father, George, works at the McVitie and Price biscuit factory in Harlesden, and her mother, Ada, takes in laundry at home. They live in a small, two storey brick terrace house which opens out directly onto the street, and is far removed from the grandeur of Lettice’s flat, but has always been a cosy and welcoming home for Edith. What is especially exciting is that Edith's brother, Bert is home for Christmas too. He is a dining saloon steward aboard a passenger ship, so he is lucky to be on shore leave just in time of Christmas!
The kitchen has always been the heart of Edith’s family home, and today it has a particularly festive feel about it is Christmas Day and Christmas dinner is about to be served. Strings of brightly coloured paper chains have been strung around the room, draped over the old Welsh dresser, across the mantle of the kitchen range and across the room from corner to corner, hanging in jolly festoons. Ada had pulled out one of her best table cloths with an orange rose pattern on it which now adorns the round kitchen table, hiding its worn surface and the best blue and white china dinner service is being used today. Ada has even conceded to Edith’s constant reminders that she promised to use the pretty Price Washington ‘Ye Old Cottage’ teapot that Edith bought her from the Caledonian Markets* a few months ago because she and her brother Bert are both home for Christmas.
The kitchen is filled with the rich smells of Christmas: turkey and potatoes roasting and Yorkshire puddings baking in the oven, gravy warming over the grate and the faint fruity aroma of Ada’s Christmas cake as it sits waiting to be served for dessert on the dresser’s pull out extension.
“Bert love,” Ada calls to her son as she stirs the pan of gravy made with juices from the turkey mixed with Bisto Gravy Powder**. “Be a treasure and set the table would you?”
“Right-oh Mum!” Edith’s brother pipes up as he rises from his seat on a ladderback chair pulled up to the table where he has been admiring the fabric of his new cobalt blue tie, a Christmas gift from Edith. “First Class Steward Watsford of the SS Demosthenes*** is always ready to assist.”
“Thanks love.” Ada replies gratefully as she pushes a few stubborn strands of hair that keep falling loose into her face, back behind her right ear.
“It’s just like being at sea, isn’t it, son?” George chuckles good naturedly from his comfortable seat in his Windsor chair where he reads the newspaper and sips a cup of tea.
“Better watch out George Watsford, lest I give you a job ‘n all.” Ada warns her husband teasingly as she smiles over at him and winks.
“What? I’ve done my job by getting you the best Christmas turkey money can buy from Mr. Ludlow’s butcher’s shop.” he splutters. “Anyway, I can’t do anything dressed in my best bib and tucker****, now can I Ada? I’ll only spoil all your good washing and pressing.”
“It won’t stop me giving you one if you stir up trouble for me.” She wags her wooden spoon coated in thick brown gravy warningly at him.
“You’re in trouble now, Dad,” Edith laughs as she goes to open the small bread oven of the range. “Mum’s waving her spoon at you.”
“No Edith!” Ada gasps. “Don’t open the door yet! All the hot air will come out and the Yorkshire puds will go flat! Didn’t I teach you anything?”
“Oh you did, Mum, but I was just going to take a peek at them. Otherwise, how will we know they’re done.”
“Even a peek will make them go flat. No, I’ll know when they're ready love. I’ve been using this range,” Ada gently pats the mantle over the range like a faithful dog. “Ever since I married your Dad. It took me a while to learn its ways, but we understand each other now. Don't we old girl? Here, you want to help me, love?”
Edith nods.
“Then stir the gravy so it doesn’t burn whilst I check on the turkey.” Ada replies.
Edith dutifully takes over stirring the pan with the wooden spoon.
“Thanks again for my tie, old girl!” Bert says to his sister as he sets out the last of the blue and white dinner plates featuring a central flower on each. “It’s spiffing.”
“Oh you’re welcome, Bert.” Edith replies, turning around and smiling at her brother. “Now you’re moving up the ranks, you need to look smart when you’re off duty as well as on.”
“Don’t know how you could afford something as smart as this for me.”
“Well, Miss Lettice pays me a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work, and living so centrally in London, I have access to lots of places to find you presents.”
“Petticoat Lane*****?” Ada asks in a quiet whisper as she rises from being bent over the oven.
Edith nods.
“Oh that reminds me Bert, I’ll have to show you the present that Miss Lettice gave me for Christmas after dinner.”
“She spoils you, Edith.” Ada remarks. “Dinner,” she says in a posh voice. “Tea is what we call it, my girl.” she corrects. “All these fancy words have no place in my kitchen.”
“Oh Ada!” George counters, looking sharply at his wife over the top of his newspaper. “If Edith learns new, more refined words to describe something, there isn’t anything wrong with that.” He gives his blushing daughter a beatific smile. “Betterment is good for the girl, especially if she wants to get on in the world.”
“Well tea was always a good enough word to describe our meal as far as I’m concerned.” Ada replies huffily.
“Now, now Ada!” George folds his paper and drapes it over the arm of his chair. Heaving his portly figure out of his well worn chair he walks over to his wife and wraps his arms around her shoulders. “What’s gotten into you today? Where's your Christmas spirit? Christmas is always a jolly time for us Watsfords, not a time for bickering about words.”
“Oh I’m sorry, George,” Ada replies, sinking into the comforting embrace of her husband. “I suppose I’ve been running myself ragged getting everything nice for Christmas over the last few days.” She looks at her daughter, who quickly casts her eyes down at the pot of gravy she is stirring. “I’m sorry, Edith love,” she apologies. “I’m not really cross with you. I’m just tired and a bit snappy.”
“It’s alright Mum,” Edith replies. “I know.”
“I’m happy you’re learning new words.” Ada continues, but then adds, “I just don’t want you getting above your station. One day you’ll leave Miss Chetwynd, and I just don’t want you spoiled for your next mistress. You know not everyone’s generous like she is.”
“I know Mum, and I promise I’m not getting above my station. I’m just proud of what she gave me is all, and I want to show it to Bert.”
“Of course you do, love.” Ada puts a comforting hand on Edith’s shoulder. “And why not indeed. It’s beautiful, and you’re very lucky to have it. Show it off, love.”
“Goodness Edith,” Bert exclaims. “What did she give you?”
“It’s a dressing table set from Boots******, made of Bakelite*******.” Edith enthuses. “There’s a brush and comb and mirror and…” She stops herself quickly before she mentions the photograph frame which she has left sitting on the chest of drawers in her little bedroom at the Cavendish Mews flat with her fallen sweetheart Bert’s picture in it. “And… and I just love it!”
“That does sound fancy, Edith!” Bert says in an impressed tone. “Makes my box of Australian Fruit Biscuits look shabby in comparison.”
“Shabby?” Edith exclaims. “Don’t say that, Bert! I love my Christmas present from you!” she assures him. “I can practically feel the Australian sunshine you talked about radiating from that tin. I’ve never had anything from so far away before! They are exotic, Bert.”
“That table set, Bert?” Ada asks.
“Table set, shipshape and Bristol fashion********, Mum.” Bert replies proudly.
“Good! Then its time to serve up Christmas tea! Edith, pour that gravy into the jug and take out the potatoes. I’ll put out the turkey and the Yorkshire puds. George, you fetch the ale.”
“Now that’s a job I can do in my best bib and tucker.” George laughs.
Soon the table is covered in Ada’s splendid Christmas dinner: a tray of steaming golden roast potatoes, beautifully risen Yorkshire puddings, a pot of green brussels sprouts and a bowl of peas and carrots. However most impressive of all is the golden brown turkey, glistening in the gaslight of the kitchen, steam rising from its perfectly cooked flesh. The family take their places about the table and George fills everyone’s glass with thick, dark ale.
“Goodness Dad!” Bert gasps as he looks at all the delicious food. “How could you afford such a fine turkey? Did you cut a deal using broken biscuits with Mr. Ludlow?”
“Cheeky!” George replies with a smile, getting up from his seat and holding his tumber aloft. “I’d like you all to raise your glasses, please.”
“Who are we toasting, Dad?” Edith asks. “The King?”
“Well, we can toast good King George in a moment, but first I’d like to raise a toast to McVitie and Price’s********* newest Line Manager!”
“Oh George!” Ada gasps, jumping up from her seat and throwing her arms around her husband in delight. “You kept mum on that bit of news!”
“Congratulations Dad!” Edith says, standing and charging her glass.
“Yes! Congratulations Dad!” Bert follows, raising his own glass. “That’s spiffing news!”
“And that’s how I could afford such a fine turkey, son.” George replies proudly. “Now, let’s eat!”
“Merry Christmas everyone.” Edith says, sitting back down with a smile.
“A merry Christmas indeed!” agrees Ada as she returns to her seat. “The best Christmas the Watsford family have ever had I’d say, with you two children home and your Dad’s news!”
*The original Caledonian Market, renown for antiques, buried treasure and junk, was situated in in a wide cobblestoned area just off the Caledonian Road in Islington in 1921 when this story is set. Opened in 1855 by Prince Albert, and originally called the Metropolitan Meat Markets, it was supplementary to the Smithfield Meat Market. Arranged in a rectangle, the market was dominated by a forty six metre central clock tower. By the early Twentieth Century, with the diminishing trade in live animals, a bric-a-brac market developed and flourished there until after the Second World War when it moved to Bermondsey, south of the Thames, where it flourishes today. The Islington site was developed in 1967 into the Market Estate and an open green space called Caledonian Park. All that remains of the original Caledonian Markets is the wonderful Victorian clock tower.
**The first Bisto product, in 1908, was a meat-flavoured gravy powder, which rapidly became a bestseller in Britain. It was added to gravies to give a richer taste and aroma. Invented by Messrs Roberts and Patterson, it was named "Bisto" because it "Browns, Seasons and Thickens in One". Bisto Gravy is still a household name in Britain and Ireland today, and the brand is currently owned by Premier Foods.
***The SS Demosthenes was a British steam ocean liner and refrigerated cargo ship which ran scheduled services between London and Australia via Cape Town. It stopped at ports including those in Sydney and Melbourne. She was launched in 1911 in Ireland for the Aberdeen Line and scrapped in 1931 in England. In the First World War she was an Allied troop ship.
****The phrase “best bib and tucker”, which means one’s best clothes, emerged during the first half of the eighteenth century. It was used in New Memoires Establishing a True Knowledge of Mankind by Marquis d'Argens, published in 1747. It goes, “The Country-woman minds nothing on Sundays so much as her best Bib and Tucker.”
*****Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
******Boots the chemist was established in 1849, by John Boot. After his father's death in 1860, Jesse Boot, aged 10, helped his mother run the family's herbal medicine shop in Nottingham, which was incorporated as Boot and Co. Ltd in 1883, becoming Boots Pure Drug Company Ltd in 1888. In 1920, Jesse Boot sold the company to the American United Drug Company. However, because of deteriorating economic circumstances in North America Boots was sold back into British hands in 1933. The grandson of the founder, John Boot, who inherited the title Baron Trent from his father, headed the company. The Boots Pure Drug Company name was changed to The Boots Company Limited in 1971. Between 1898 and 1966, many branches of Boots incorporated a lending library department, known as Boots Book-Lovers' Library.
*******Bakelite, was the first plastic made from synthetic components. Patented on December 7, 1909, the creation of a synthetic plastic was revolutionary for its electrical nonconductivity and heat-resistant properties in electrical insulators, radio and telephone casings and such diverse products as kitchenware, jewellery, pipe stems, children's toys, and firearms. A plethora of items were manufactured using Bakelite in the 1920s and 1930s.
********The saying “shipshape and Bristol fashion” means things are in good order, neat and clean.
*********McVitie's (Originally McVitie and Price) is a British snack food brand owned by United Biscuits. The name derives from the original Scottish biscuit maker, McVitie and Price, Ltd., established in 1830 on Rose Street in Edinburgh, Scotland. The company moved to various sites in the city before completing the St. Andrews Biscuit Works factory on Robertson Avenue in the Gorgie district in 1888. The company also established one in Glasgow and two large manufacturing plants south of the border, in Heaton Chapel, Stockport, and Harlesden, London (where Edith’s father works). McVitie and Price's first major biscuit was the McVitie's Digestive, created in 1892 by a new young employee at the company named Alexander Grant, who later became the managing director of the company. The biscuit was given its name because it was thought that its high baking soda content served as an aid to food digestion. The McVitie's Chocolate Homewheat Digestive was created in 1925. Although not their core operation, McVitie's were commissioned in 1893 to create a wedding cake for the royal wedding between the Duke of York and Princess Mary, who subsequently became King George V and Queen Mary. This cake was over two metres high and cost one hundred and forty guineas. It was viewed by 14,000 and was a wonderful publicity for the company. They received many commissions for royal wedding cakes and christening cakes, including the wedding cake for Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip and Prince William and Catherine Middleton. Under United Biscuits McVitie's holds a Royal Warrant from Queen Elizabeth II.
This cluttered, yet cheerful Christmas scene is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
On the table the Christmas dinner that really does look good enough to eat is made up of pieces from different suppliers and artisans. The Christmas turkey and the bowl of peas and carrots come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in Essex. The knife sticking out of the turkey comes from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniature Shop in the United Kingdom. The tray of potatoes in the foreground and the six Yorkshire puddings in the midground have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. The gravy boat of gravy is also Frances Knight’s work. The blue and white crockery on the table I have bought as individual from several online sellers on E-Bay. I imagine that whole sets were once sold, but now I can only find them piecemeal. The cutlery and the glasses (which are made from real glass) I bought as a teenager from a high street dollhouse suppliers. The pottery ale jug comes from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in England. The tablecloth is actually a piece of bright cotton print that was tied around the lid of a jar of home made peach and rhubarb jam that I was given a few years ago.
The paper chains festooning Ada’s kitchen I made myself using very thinly cut paper. It was a fiddly job to do, but I think it adds festive cheer and realism to this scene, as fancy Christmas decorations would have been beyond the budget of Edith’s parents, and homemade paper chains were common in households before the advent of cheap mass manufactured Christmas decorations.
In the background you can see Ada’s dark Welsh dresser cluttered with household items. Like Ada’s table, the Windsor chair and the ladderback chair to the left of the photo, I have had the dresser since I was a child. The shelves of the dresser have different patterned crockery and silver pots on them which have come from different miniature stockists both in Australia and the United Kingdom. There are also some rather worn and beaten looking enamelled cannisters and a bread tin in the typical domestic Art Deco design and kitchen colours of the 1920s, cream and green. Aged on purpose, these artisan pieces I recently acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the Essex. There are also tins of various foods which would have been household staples in the 1920s when canning and preservation revolutinised domestic cookery. Amongst other foods on the dresser are jars of Marmite and Bovril. All these items are 1:12 size artisan miniatures made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, with great attention to detail paid to their labels and the shapes of their jars and cans. Also on the dresser on the pull out drawer is a Christmas cake from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. Also from them is the cranberry glass cake stand, made of real glass, on which the cake sits. Next to it stands a cottage ware teapot. Made by French ceramicist and miniature artisan Valerie Casson, it has been decorated authentically and matches in perfect detail its life-size Price Washington ‘Ye Olde Cottage Teapot’ counterparts. The top part of the thatched roof and central chimney form the lid, just like the real thing. Valerie Casson is renown for her meticulously crafted and painted miniature ceramics.
Marmite is a food spread made from yeast extract which although considered remarkably English, was in fact invented by German scientist Justus von Liebig although it was originally made in the United Kingdom. It is a by-product of beer brewing and is currently produced by British company Unilever. The product is notable as a vegan source of B vitamins, including supplemental vitamin B. Marmite is a sticky, dark brown paste with a distinctive, salty, powerful flavour. This distinctive taste is represented in the marketing slogan: "Love it or hate it." Such is its prominence in British popular culture that the product's name is often used as a metaphor for something that is an acquired taste or tends to polarise opinion.
Bovril is the trademarked name of a thick and salty meat extract paste similar to a yeast extract, developed in the 1870s by John Lawson Johnston. It is sold in a distinctive bulbous jar, and as cubes and granules. Bovril is owned and distributed by Unilever UK. Its appearance is similar to Marmite and Vegemite. Bovril can be made into a drink ("beef tea") by diluting with hot water or, less commonly, with milk. It can be used as a flavouring for soups, broth, stews or porridge, or as a spread, especially on toast in a similar fashion to Marmite and Vegemite.
The large kitchen range in the background is a 1:12 miniature replica of the coal fed Phoenix Kitchen Range. A mid-Victorian model, it has hinged opening doors, hanging bars above the stove and a little bass hot water tap (used in the days before plumbed hot water).
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we are northwest of Lettice’s flat, in the working-class London suburb of Harlesden where Edith, Lettice’s maid, is home for Christmas with her beloved parents whilst Lettice returns to her own family home in Wiltshire. Edith’s father, George, works at the McVitie and Price biscuit factory in Harlesden and has just recently been promoted to Line Manager, and her mother, Ada, takes in laundry at home. They live in a small, two storey brick terrace house which opens out directly onto the street, and is far removed from the grandeur of Lettice’s Mayfair flat, but has always been a cosy and welcoming home for Edith.
It is Christmas Eve, and Ada is busy making Yorkshire puddings for today’s dinner* as a dry run for Christmas Day on the large round kitchen table in the middle of the room, whilst George is helping to wash up some dishes for her at the sink in the corner of the room. Edith sits next to her mother at the table, carefully cutting strips of colourful paper to make paper chains with, sticking them with some homemade flour and water glue.
“I don’t see why you have to make Yorkshire puds today, Mum,” Edith says as she cuts a strip of bright royal blue paper. “You’ve been making them for longer than I’ve been alive, so we all know they will be wonderful tomorrow.”
“Ah! Ah!” scolds George, glancing over his right shoulder and glaring at his daughter as he dunks a plate in the trough of hot soapy water. “Don’t stop your Mum doing what she wants!” he says admonishingly.
“You’re just saying that, so you get some with your tea!” laughs his daughter as she sticks the two ends of the paper together, making another link in her paper chain.
“If your Mum wants to test out her cooking, Edith love, who am I to complain if I enjoy the proceeds from it.”
“You never can be sure,” Ada explains. “Especially with this old girl.” She runs her hand lovingly over a cold blacklead part of the kitchen range affectionately. “She’s getting like me.”
“Temperamental as she gets older.” George laughs as he places the plate he has just washed on the wooden draining board next to the sink.
“What was that you were saying about enjoying the proceeds of my endeavours, George?” Ada asks threatening him playfully with the metal spoon that she has stirred the Yorkshire Pudding mixture with.
“Careful!” George replies. “Don’t waste any of that precious pudding batter.”
Ada laughs and starts to pour the thick pale yellow mixture of eggs, flour and milk into one of the six wells of hot fat in one of her well used muffin tins.
“I’m going to miss Bert this Christmas.” Edith sighs heavily glancing up at Ada pouring as she takes a strip of emerald green paper and winds it through the blue piece she has stuck. “It won’t be the same without him.”
“I know, Edith love,” Ada replies kindly. “But this is what happens when you work as a steward on a ship.”
“It’s not as much fun making paper chains without him.” Edith grumbles, sticking the green paper ends together sulkily. “And it won’t be the same without his laughter on Christmas morning. It’s like the war, all over again.”
“Except we know he’s safe and happy,” tempers Ada. “Thank the Lord.” Her hands tremble almost imperceptibly as she pours the batter, remembering the Christmases without her son, always worrying whether he was ever going to come home again.
“And there’s no rationing.” adds George. “Thank goodness!”
“No wheat,” Ada remembers. “Having to eat beans because there was no beef, pork or mutton to be had.”
“It still won’t be the same without him, Mum.”
“Be that as it may, we shall have to make sure we have an extra jolly time of it this Christmas in spite of his absence.” Ada confirms. “Bert wouldn’t want us to be sad.”
“Don’t worry, Edith love. Just think of the grand Christmas present he will bring you back from his travels. Besides,” pipes up George, depositing another plate into one of the grooves of the worn wooden draining board. “Bert will be having a cracker of a Christmas. Fancy spending Christmas Day in Australia, in the middle of summer time?”
“There’s something unnatural about Christmas in the middle of summer time.” Ada mutters. “It’s foreign.”
“I’ll be back at work at Miss Lettice’s before his ship docks in Southampton.” mutters Edith.
“What a lark!” George muses, having not heard his daughter. “He’ll be having a jolly time of it, Edith love. He’s footloose and fancy free** in a beautiful city with all his chums from the ship for company. I know what I’d be doing if I were him.”
“Yes, well lucky you aren’t!” Ada chortles. Pouring batter into the next well she adds more seriously, “I just hope he doesn’t have too good a time of it. As you say George, he’s footloose and fancy free.”
“What harm can the boy come to, Ada?”
“Plenty can happen, and well you know it!” Ada gives her husband a knowing look as she turns and inserts the muffin tin of pudding batter into the hot oven, before glancing at Edith picking up a cobalt blue strip of paper to add to the chain. “Especially if he is larking about with other lads. He’s no family to spend Christmas Day with, and a pocket full of wages.”
“Every city has its temptations, Ada.” George turns back and plunges his hands into the hot water again, reaching blindly for pieces of cutler along the bottom of the worn trough. “At least he is in one of the richest in the world***.”
“Well, if it’s one of the richest cities, then Melbourne is bound to have so many temptations!” Ada moans.
“We will just have to trust that we’ve brought up Bert well enough that he won’t give into them. He didn’t during the war.”
“He was younger then: more timid and shy, and not so worldly as he is now.”
“Well no matter what he does,” George withdraws his hands from the water and turns around, drying them on the tea towel draped over his left shoulder as he leans against the trough. “You won’t be there to police his movements, so you’ll just have to trust him.”
“So long as he doesn’t get some Australian girl in the family way.”
“To young to be a grandmother, eh?” George winks at his wife.
“Of course I’m too young!” Ada self-consciously winds a loose strand of her mousy brown hair, limp with perspiration from working so near to the range, behind her ear.
“And far too beautiful to be one yet too, I might add.” George says, giving his wife a beaming smile as he walks across the short space between the sink and Ada.
“You tell her, Dad!” Edith says proudly, smiling up at her happy parents, taking up a purple strip of paper to add to her ever lengthening chain.
George lovingly wraps his hands around his wife’s waist, which even after having two children is still slender and elegant like it was when he first wrapped his arms around it when they first began courting. He rests his head on her shoulder and breathes in her scent: the familiar fragrance of soap, the comforting smell of baking and the sweetness of a small amount of perspiration. It’s a comforting scent and one he has become familiar with since they were first married in 1896.
“Oh get away with you!” Ada chuckles as his hands move from her waist and wrap around her smaller hands as she picks up the nearly empty white porcelain dish of pudding batter. “Don’t make me spill any of my batter, George.”
“Anyway, if Edith brought her young man over for Christmas Day, we wouldn’t feel Bert’s loss so much,” George adds pointedly, looking directly at his daughter. “Would we Ada? We’d have a lad in the house, just as if he were here!”
“Dad!” Edith gasps, looking up from her paper chain making.
“That’s right, George.”
“Mum!”
“Well, it’s true, Edith. If you had invited him for Christmas, we could finally meet him.” Ada remarks, wiping the kitchen table with her yellow dishcloth. “All we hear about is ‘Frank this’ and ‘Frank that’! When are we going to meet this Frank?”
“Soon Mum.”
“You’ve been saying that for months now.” Ada scolds dismissively. “You’ve been seeing your young Frank for more than half a year now, Edith love. Are you still not sure about him after all this time?”
“Oh no, I am Mum, but, well,” she makes light of the questioning of her parents. “I don’t want Dad scaring him off when I’ve finally found myself a nice chap, now do I?”
“Cheeky!” George waves an admonishing finger at is daughter jokingly. “You are serious about him though? And he’s serious about you?”
“Yes of course, Dad!” Edith replies, giving him a surprised look. “You know that I wouldn’t step out with a chap I didn’t fancy and wasn’t serious about.”
“And ahem.,” He clears his throat awkwardly. “And he’s decent,” He emphasises the last word seriously. “He’s not well,” He starts flapping the dishcloth about in the air in front of him. “You know, a cad.”
Edith looks perplexed for a moment and then realises what he’s trying to say. “Dad!” she gasps. She feels the flush of reddish pink run up her neck and fill her cheeks. “Don’t worry Dad.” She looks to her mother. “Mum’s talked to me about, well, about boys.” She feels the flush in her cheeks intensify as she says it. “Frank knows that he can’t do anything but kiss me chastely in the back row of the pictures or take me dancing at the Hammersmith Palais**** unless he puts a ring on my finger.”
“Well, that’s more than I could do with your mum when we were courting.” He holds his wife at arm’s length and smiles lovingly at her before giving her a bold kiss on the lips. “We’d barely kissed before our wedding day, had we Ada?”
“I should think not, George! I’d never had married you if you made unwanted advances when we were courting.” Turning to her daughter she continues, “It wouldn’t have been proper.”
“Oh Mum, Dad, we’re in the Twentieth Century now, and things have changed a bit since you two were stepping out together.”
“Not that much it hasn’t.” mutters George. “Your Miss Chetwynd might fill your head with some fanciful ideas about men and women: who is who and what is what. But I do know, that,” Once again he puts emphasis on the last word. “Hasn’t changed.”
“Don’t worry Dad. Miss Lettice tells me lots of things about the new emancipated woman,” Ada snorts derisively at the idea of such women. “But,” continues Edith. “I promise she never says anything about that sort of thing. I’m not a silly girl, Dad. You and Mum made sure of that, and I’m grateful.”
“That’s just as well.” George huffs, entwining his fat sausage like fingers with his wife’s careworn ones. “And is that parlour maid friend of yours from your old house still going with you to the Hammersmith Palais?”
“Hilda? Oh yes Dad. She comes along with Frank and me. Frank is such a gentleman that sometimes he’ll ask me if I mind if he asks her for a dance if a chap hasn’t asked her for a while.”
George’s eyes widen. “And do you?”
“What?”
“Mind?”
“Oh no, Dad!” Edith assures her father with a gentle smile and a soft giggle. “I trust Frank. He’s nice.”
“Well I hope he is.”
“He would never do anything with Hilda, and if he had, I would know about it.”
“I’m sure you know your Frank and your friend well enough, Edith love.” Ada says calmly.
“Don’t worry, Mum and Dad,” Edith lets the Christmas paper chain drop onto the table with a sigh. “You’ll get to meet Frank soon enough. I just want to let Frank do what is right at his own pace, without any pressure.”
“We’re not pressuring him, Edith love.” George remarks as he returns to the sink and starts drying the collection of pots and dishes on the draining board.
“No Dad, you’re pressuring me.”
“What do you mean by do what is right, Edith?” queries Ada.
“Well, Frank’s a real gentleman and he’s trying to better himself. As the man in the relationship, he wants me to meet his family first, and then he’ll get to meet you. Frank’s parents died during the Spanish Flu epidemic, so he only has his Granny left now. She lives in Upton Park over in the East End. He’s been waiting for the right time to introduce us, and he finally wants me to meet her in the new year. I guess it’s his way of sharing the fact that I’m his intended.”
“Well that’s all right then, Edith love,” George sighs with satisfaction. “Since you say you’re serious about each other, I need to meet the man who is one day going to ask me for permission to marry you.” He looks earnestly at his daughter, the masculine topic of permission to marry at odds with the less masculine sight of him drying dishes. “And that is something that hasn’t changed with the new century, my girl!”
“And that’s the other reason why I don’t want to bring him home yet, Dad. I want no talk of marriage. Not right now, anyway.”
“You were the one who mentioned it in the first place, love.”
“Yes, but you’ll be the one who will suggest that you and Frank have a chat, ‘man-to-man’ up in the front parlour,” she imitates her father’s deeper voice before returning to her own standard speaking voice pitch and tone. “And then you’ll put the hard word on him.”
“Well, what’s wrong with that?” George asks as he takes up the last of the drying, a blue and white china tureen decorated with roses. “You’re my only daughter. If he’s serious about you, it’s a conversation to be had.”
“You’re Dad’s right, Edith love.” Ada remarks as she checks the time on the old ticking kitchen wall clock hanging on the wall opposite the range. “We just want to make sure that his intentions are honourable.”
“Of course my Frank is honourable.” Edith defends him.
“Then he won’t mind a serious chat about his intentions.” Ada says sagely.
“You both sound as bad as Miss Lettice’s father, the Viscount, trying to marry her off.”
“Now, now my girl, even on my new Line Manager wages, I can’t afford to throw a party to marry you off at the Sally Ann***** yet.” George jokes.
“I’m being serious Dad!” Edith takes up a pale pink piece of paper and adds it to her paper chain. “Miss Lettice’s father wants her married to this new chap she met for the first time since she was a little girl at the ball he and Lady Chetwynd threw for her.”
“Well, I can understand that. Any father wants the best for his daughter.”
“Or mother.” adds Ada.
“You are your own woman now, Edith love.” George dries his hands on the dishcloth. “I won’t force you to bring him home, but I hope you will, soon. And,” He pauses mid thought.
“And?” Edith pipes up, anxious to know what he wants to say.
“And when you do, I’ll try not to be so much like Lord what’s-his-name.” he concludes a little begrudgingly.
“Oh Dad!” Edith jumps up from the table and runs over to her father, throwing her arms around his neck and kisses him on the cheek. “Thank you! You’re a brick!”
George grabs her around the waist and holds her a short length away from him as he looks his daughter up and down appraisingly. “A brick?”
“Yes Dad! A real brick!”
“How on earth do I resemble a square of baked red clay?”
“Oh Dad!” Edith sighs. “You don’t have to be so literal! I don’t mean you look like a brick! It means you are being a support. You know, like a brick wall supports the roof.” She looks up to the dirty ceiling above, yellowed and darkened by the coal range and cooking in the kitchen over many years.
“Oh.” George releases his daughter and folds his arms akimbo as she places the dishrag over the edge of the sink. “Twentieth Century speak?”
“Yes Dad!” Edith replies, her eyes glittering. “Miss Lettice taught me that one.”
“Well,” Ada says with satisfaction as she opens the oven door. “This is something Miss Chetwynd didn’t teach you, but I might one day.”
She drops the muffin pan on her wooden chopping board. Out of each hole rises a fluffy golden brown Yorkshire pudding, and the air is suddenly filled with the smell of Christmas.
“Looks and smells grand, Mum!” Edith says with a satisfied smile.
*It was not uncommon in lower-class households for luncheon to be the main meal of the day, and thus, even though it was had in the middle of the day, it was often referred to as dinner. A lighter meal taken in the evening was often referred to as tea, rather than dinner, often because it was had with a cup of tea, and in some very poor households might only have consisted of a slice of thin bread and dripping.
**Both footloose and fancy-free came into use separately in the 1600s. Footloose originally meant free to move one's feet. It's idiomatic meaning, to be able to make one's own choices without considering any responsibilities, came into use in the 1800s. Fancy-free originally meant to be lacking in romantic attachments.
***Melbourne, Victoria in the 1880s saw extraordinary growth: consumer confidence, easy access to credit, and steep increases in land prices led to an enormous amount of construction. During this "land boom", Melbourne became known as Marvellous Melbourne and reputedly became the richest city in the world, and the second-largest (after London) in the British Empire. By the 1920s, whilst it was no longer the richest city in the world, it was still one of the wealthiest ones.
****The Hammersmith Palais de Danse, in its last years simply named Hammersmith Palais, was a dance hall and entertainment venue in Hammersmith, London, England that operated from 1919 until 2007. It was the first palais de danse to be built in Britain.
*****During the Great War, the Salvation Army’s overseas activities were organised by British Salvationists. They operated well equipped huts, canteens, rest facilities, and hostels in Britain, France and Belgium. There, war-weary troops could bathe, refresh their clothing, eat decent food, and prepare themselves physically, mentally, and spiritually for the always difficult return to the trenches. The troops coined the affectionate nickname ‘Sally Ann’ to describe the Salvation Army and the name stuck after the war and was used to describe not only the Salvation Army itself, but their Citadels and halls.
This cluttered, yet cheerful domestic scene of washing dishes is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The Yorkshire puddings and batter in the white porcelain bowl on the kitchen table have been made in England by hand by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. The rather worn and beaten looking enamelled flour cannister in the typical domestic Art Deco design and kitchen colours of the 1920s, cream and green, has been aged on purpose. An artisan piece, it comes from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom. The Brown Betty teapot, made of real glazed pottery, also comes from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop. The bowl of eggs and the beater, the empty muffin pan and the various odd china pieces all come from online stockists of miniatures on E-Bay. The shears with black handles in the basket open and close. Made of metal, they came from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniature Shop in the United Kingdom. The colourful paper chains were made by me.
In the background you can see Ada’s dark Welsh dresser cluttered with household items. Like Ada’s table, the Windsor chair and the ladderback chair to the left of the photo, I have had the dresser since I was a child. The shelves of the dresser have different patterned crockery and silver pots on them which have come from different miniature stockists both in Australia and the United Kingdom. There are also some rather worn and beaten looking enamelled cannisters and a bread tin which are part of the set from which the flour cannister is from. There are also tins of various foods which would have been household staples in the 1920s when canning and preservation revolutionised domestic cookery. Amongst other foods on the dresser are a jar of Marmite, a jar of Bovril and some Oxo stock cubes. All these items are 1:12 size artisan miniatures made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, with great attention to detail paid to their labels and the shapes of their jars and cans.
Bovril is the trademarked name of a thick and salty meat extract paste similar to a yeast extract, developed in the 1870s by John Lawson Johnston. It is sold in a distinctive bulbous jar, and as cubes and granules. Bovril is owned and distributed by Unilever UK. Its appearance is similar to Marmite and Vegemite. Bovril can be made into a drink ("beef tea") by diluting with hot water or, less commonly, with milk. It can be used as a flavouring for soups, broth, stews or porridge, or as a spread, especially on toast in a similar fashion to Marmite and Vegemite
Marmite is a food spread made from yeast extract which although considered remarkably English, was in fact invented by German scientist Justus von Liebig although it was originally made in the United Kingdom. It is a by-product of beer brewing and is currently produced by British company Unilever. The product is notable as a vegan source of B vitamins, including supplemental vitamin B. Marmite is a sticky, dark brown paste with a distinctive, salty, powerful flavour. This distinctive taste is represented in the marketing slogan: "Love it or hate it." Such is its prominence in British popular culture that the product's name is often used as a metaphor for something that is an acquired taste or tends to polarise opinion.
Oxo is a brand of food products, including stock cubes, herbs and spices, dried gravy, and yeast extract. The original product was the beef stock cube, and the company now also markets chicken and other flavour cubes, including versions with Chinese and Indian spices. The cubes are broken up and used as flavouring in meals or gravy or dissolved into boiling water to produce a bouillon. Oxo produced their first cubes in 1910 and further increased Oxo's popularity.
The large kitchen range in the background is a 1:12 miniature replica of the coal fed Phoenix Kitchen Range. A mid-Victorian model, it has hinged opening doors, hanging bars above the stove and a little bass hot water tap (used in the days before plumbed hot water).
They rose Julie (thanks for 10 million views)
Having had the Toad-in-the-hole for Saturday dinner I used the rest of the batter to make Yorkshire Puddings to go with our Sunday lunch.
The Toad didn't rise that well, but I know why. The recipe I originally used, many years ago, said to make the batter the day before and keep it in the fridge overnight.
However, the one I used this weekend didn't and it was a mistake. The batter for Sunday went into the fridge overnight and the difference was huge.
For anyone who wondered if they would rise in a silicon tray can stop worrying - they rose, so high that they almost took over the oven. Will put the rack down lower next time!
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites.
52 Weeks of 2023 Week #48 Food Photography "In Explore"
This was last Sunday's roast Chicken Dinner we had at home My Wife's Home Made Cooking!
Chicken, Roast Potatoes, Carrots, Peas, Runner Beans, Yorkshire Pudding and thick Gravy.
Oh And a Healthy Yoghurt? Lemon Squash
Best viewed Large Press "L"
You can see my other 52 in 2023 photos here :-
www.flickr.com/photos/123248944@N05/albums/72177720305069573
Taken 26 November 2023
My wife indulges me once in a while with good old fashioned English staples, last nights dinner was sausage and mash with onion gravy with braised savoy cabbage
Theme-- Food
Complete with dark brown gravy. But it is too much cleaning for the effort. It was my first time though!
I would like to take this opportunity to thank Aunt Bessie for making my tasty Yorkshire puddings (:
Here's a picture of the lovely roast dinner I had - it was a toss up between fish and chips and a roast dinner. It was a Sunday, so I decided to go for the traditional!!
We had a roast beef last night. It was nostalgic for both of us, as this was our Sunday night dinner every week of our childhood. Nowadays we hardly ever eat beef, much less a Sunday roast.
Well you could'nt not take a snap of these little beauties on a Sunday afternoon :-))
Some were to be frozen but alas the little chubby fella with d camera ate them all ;-)
Gaz
This time it was Roast Beef , Roast Potatoes , Cabbage , Peas , Yorkshire Puddings and Gravy . With some that looks suspiciously like a clove of Garlic , hiding in plain sight with the Peas !
Harlow , Essex .
Tuesday evening 15th-October-2024
This time it was Roast Gammon , with a copious amount of vegetables , Yorkshire Puddings and Gravy .
Harlow , Essex .
Tuesday evening 06th-May-2025.
Roast Chicken, Beef and Pork with Veg and Yorkshire Pudding
At the Brown Hare Penwortham, Preston
© 2019 Tony Worrall
best Yorkshire puddings we've ever made
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These "Yorkshires" are now being used (with permission) in the branding and advertising of a law firm in Sheffield
You can see them here
(The main image at the top of the screen changes every few seconds - you will probably need to wait for some cutlery and a bit of the Dales to make way for the puddings)
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