You
might think that you know EVERYTHING, yes, everything there is to know
about that merry band at Bloomsbury. You know who slept with whom, who
wanted to sleep with whom, who shouldn't have slept with whom, and on
and on. You have read all the letters, diaries, and biographies. You
have visited their houses in person, online, and in books. There is
absolutely NOTHING you don't know about Bloomsbury.
WAIT...
There
is something you don't know. While the literary ensemble that has
become its own growth industry few have taken more than a passing look
at the food of Bloomsbury. I mean, after all that sleeping around, they
had to have quite an appetite. Well, actually, there has been some
peeking into the culinary exploits of the literary gang. Several years
ago, we wrote about a little self-published booklet about Grace
Higgens.
Grace at Charleston featured memories and recipes from the housekeeper of Vanessa Bell.
Recently, Stewart MacKay wrote a slim biography of Grace Higgens,
The Angel of Charleston.
Expanding on Grace's memories, and her correspondence, MacKay looked at
references to Higgens in the many memoirs and letters of others at
Bloomsbury, as well as the memories of Vanessa Bell's children and
grandchildren. While Higgens and Bell had moved past the rigors of the
traditional Edwardian upstairs/downstairs dichotomy, there was still a
broad chasm between the life of the very privileged Bell and her
housekeeper.
In an interview with the BBC, Higgens spoke about her time with Vanessa Bell.
When we last visited the kitchens of Bloomsbury we wrote:
"Grace at Charleston, though small, is the closest thing to a Bloomsbury cookbook there is, an I find it to be a treasure."
A treasure, yes, but now we are blessed with mother lode of treasures,
The Bloomsbury Cookbook.
Jans Ondaatje Rolls has produced one of the most beautiful and
literary cookbooks ever. She has combed the archives of the Charleston
Trust and many other sources to assemble a cookbook that reflects the
food of Bloomsbury.
Let's face facts, there was very
little cooking actually done by the Bloomsbury group as they were
occupied with sleeping around, painting, writing, dancing, gardening,
and other things. But they always had dinner and they were writing
about it and painting it with reckless abandon.
Ondaatje
Rolls has artfully gathered together the paintings and writing that
frame the food. The recipes have been drawn from actual cooks for
Bloomsbury like Grace Higgens and from hand written recipes from the
collections of Angelica Garret and Helen Anrep and Lydia Lopokova. When
an event is recounted with no direct recipe attribution, Rolls uses the
popular cookbooks of the day to recreate the recipe or she makes her
own.
The Bloomsbury Cookbook is a truly
memorable work of art. It is filled to the brim with painting and
photographs. There are excerpts from memoirs and novels. There are
hand written recipes and memories. And there is food. If you are a fan
of any one of these literary characters or a fan of cookbooks, this
book will blow you away. One cannot merely pick it up, flip though it
and set it back down. Every time you pick it up, your mind swims in the
information. It is all at once a book of literary criticism, an art
book, a culinary history, a recipe book, and a whole lot of fun.
 |
Mark Gertler Portrait of a Girl Wearing Blue [Dora Carrington], 1912 |
One
of my favorite characters at Bloomsbury was Dora Carrington. It seems
that Carrington was quite the master of the kitchen. Sadly, her
collection of recipes has been lost, but the memory of them lingers.
David Garnett wrote of Carrington:
"Her
cowslip wine was nectar, her sloe gin unequaled. Then the jams, bottled
fruit and vegetables, chutneys, pickles,preserves. Her pickled pears
were a revelation. The making of these was part of Carrington's secret
life."
A similar sloe gin comes from the pages of Mrs. Beeton's
All About Cookery.
Sloe Gin
Half
fill clean, dry wine bottles with the fruit [sloes] previously pricked
with a darning needle. add to each, 1 oz of crushed barley-sugar, a
little noyeau, or 2 or 3 drops of essence of almonds. Fill the bottles
with good unsweetened gin,cork them securely, and allow them to remain
in a moderately warm place for 3 months. At the end of this time strain
the liqueur through fine muslin or filtering paper until quite clear,
then bottle it, cork securely, and store away in a cool, dry place until
required for use.
If you are a fan of Bloomsbury, a fan of cookbooks, a fan of art you must add this to your reading list.