When your dinner guests are the cream of early 20th century English society, everything should be perfect. But even the aristocratic Lady Agnes Jekyll knew that inevitably there would be “pauses of service in the best regulated dining-rooms, when solace is sought in crumbling or nibbling something.”
Her remedy? The cereal then said to be shot from guns. 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 labour-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…”
Lady Jekyll was a renowned hostess when the Times of London asked her to write a food and entertaining column. Later the columns were collected in a book: Kitchen Essays.
Jekyll lived in a Masterpiece Theater world, with cooks and nannies, weekends in the country, and travel abroad. She wrote about what to serve for wedding breakfasts, shooting-party luncheons, and posh dinner parties.
One chapter is titled “In the cook’s absence.” Its recipes are simple enough for the kitchen maid to manage on cook’s day off. Another, “Luncheon for a motor excursion in winter,” suggests having a picnic packed because the food at country hotels is too “dear” and too often consists of “Tough joints, bluish rabbit or pork pies, fly-haunted ham bones, black-eyed potatoes,” and such.
Her own menus feature such classics as a “leg of lamb set round with little jelly castles of mint sauce made with aspic and chopped mint,” a “Souchet of Slips,” essentially a fish soup made with tiny Dover sole, and “Claret Jelly.”
All of which makes it curious that she seemed to have such high regard for lowly cereals. Calling the familiar English breakfast fare “monotonous,” she suggests that both young and old would benefit by having “American Cereals, such as post-toasties, honey-grains, puffed wheat, or puffed rice, with or without cream.”
The cereals were relatively new then. Puffed Rice had been introduced in 1905; Puffed Wheat, shortly after. They were originally shot from guns, specifically a Spanish-American War cannon. Later, machinery took over.
Quaker Oats company advertisements of the day suggested that the cereals were perfect for breakfast, lunch, and supper. They recommended sprinkling Puffed Rice on ice cream instead of nuts. And they offered a snack suggestion: “Crisp and lightly butter – as with peanuts or pop-corn, for hungry children after school.” But not even the Quaker Oats people recommended serving the cereals at elegant dinner parties.
However, why not? Your guests will probably be delighted. And it’s sure to keep the conversation going during those inevitable pauses in service.
Apricot Purée (with puffed rice)
Stew 1 pound best dried apricots after an all-night soak. When cooked soft, add a small tin of peeled apricots; boil together, sweeten to taste; reduce the syrup, pass through a wire sieve, and put into a shallow glass bowl; cover completely with a thin layer of partly whipped cream (about 6d worth), and perhaps a few chopped pistachio nuts to embellish. With this send round a glass finger-bowl of that useful American cereal ‘puffed rice’ just crisped in the oven, to be sprinkled on by each guest. This sweet is suitable also for holiday luncheons or Sunday suppers. For 5-6 persons. – Kitchen Essays, Lady Jekyll, 1922.
How lovely. I'm so glad you found it here. If you make the dessert, let me know how it turns out.
Jeri
Posted by: Jeri Quinzio | December 17, 2013 at 10:53 AM
I am in my seventies. This dessert was made in my family in the 1940s and 50s. I just remembered it and googled the ingredients to see what I could find.
My aunt lived in England in the 1920s and 1930s and I imagine that Lady Jekyll's recipe was the source.
Posted by: Alexandra | December 17, 2013 at 10:16 AM