With the generous assistance of the Friends of the National Libraries we purchased a manuscript recipe book believed to have been kept by Eleanor Hunter of Beech Hill in the mid 18th century (ref. D/EZ224/1). It contains house and farming memoranda; recipes for food, drink, medicine and dyes/paints. We knew it would be of general interest to food and household historians, but we were not expecting it to contain the earliest known recipe for a popular Georgian/Victorian dessert, the jaune mange.

Food historians online have searched assiduously for a version earlier than that published in 1777 by Charlotte Mason in her book The Lady’s Assistant for Regulating and Supplying Her Table to no avail.

But this recipe was given by a Mrs Pitt of Binfield in 1751 – a full 26 years earlier! Mrs Pitt lived at Binfield Manor House and she called it 'J’aune manger'. This relates closer to the French tradition – their name for blancmange is blanc manger.

As you may guess from the name, the dish is similar to the better known blancmange, but is yellow (jaune is the French for yellow) due to the inclusion of eggs and fruit juice. Later recipes, including Mason’s, tend to use oranges rather than lemons, but this (original!) version is lemon. It is more indulgent than a traditional blancmange, thanks to the alcohol and the eggs as well as the sharp fruit flavour. It’s certainly more alcoholic than later versions. 

We were so excited by this discovery we couldn’t resist trying It with a few modifications such as using gelatine instead of the original isinglass (a fish by-product) and we'll be writing a separate article on how it turned out.

Other interesting puddings include a trifle, which like modern trifles includes Savoy biscuits soaked in alcohol, custard and cream layers – but no fruit. A Swedish cream is heavily spiced; and there is an interesting recipe from 1741 for ‘Profit rols’. They don’t quite sound like the modern idea of profiteroles as they were bread rolls filled with a spicy custard, then fried and covered with comfits. The rolls must have been quite big as you needed a pint of cream for the custard for four of them.

Mrs Pitt supplied a number of other recipes, including these easy and tasty sounding savoury cheese balls she called ramekins:

Cheese ramekins, by Mrs Pitt (modernised by RBA):

Put half a pint of water and 4 oz butter in a saucepan and boil. Add 4 oz flour, 2 oz Gloucester cheese cut into dice, and 2 oz Parmesan (should also be diced but I expect shaved would be fine).  Let it boil for 2 minutes or until it comes to a stiff paste. Remove from heat and stir in 4 or 5 eggs (probably small ones). Make into balls the size of walnuts, place on a tin plate/baking tray in a quick oven. 200 for 10 mins maybe?

Other recipes are provided by other women such as Lady Walpole who provided a simple but tasty sauce to serve over boiled chicken (diced lean bacon, chopped boiled egg and butter). Lady Molesworth offered a variant on the cheese ramekin with anchovies, breadcrumbs and wine. ‘Catchup’ is not quite like our idea of ketchup, but was made from mushrooms slow cooked over nine days, with anchovies and spice. You could also try the ‘fasting soup’ (turnips and other veg plus the ubiquitous spices), but as it was served with poached eggs and fried bread it was not perhaps as virtuous as it sounds from the name.

There were also a number of alcoholic punches and drinks including several recipes for one called shrub.

Some of the other recipes are definitely not for a modern taste, such as the pickled sparrows, which starts with the robust instructions, ‘Pluck and Gutt ’em, truss ‘em, as you do Pidgeons’... The pickle marinade dissolved the tiny bones. We certainly won’t be trying that one, or the fricasseed sheep’s trotters - you’re even reminded to be sure to clean between the toes first! 

We will also steer well clear of all the dubious sounding recipes for medicines, but especially the remedy for ‘lowness of spirits’, which involves live vipers in spiced wine. Presumably it was the wine which had the actual effect of making you less depressed. Or perhaps the threat of consuming vipers made you pretend you were better to your loved ones!

The toothpowder is made from burned breadcrumbs reduced to a powder mixed to a paste with gum mastic and a mystery substance called ‘bolearmeniack’ (which on investigation turns out to be Armenian bole, a red clay which was used to avoid discolouration of the gums from the powder). And ‘if you find it too grateing [sic] for your gums’ just add honey. Not so great for the teeth!

But who wrote it all down? 

There was one further ramification, in that we are not completely sure the recipe book was written by Eleanor Hunter (nee Bosanquet), although it did descend through her family. Eleanor’s great great granddaughter Maria Eleanor Anderdon (niece of the famous Victorian convert Cardinal Henry Manning) labelled it as coming from her great grandmother Mrs Hunter at Beech Hill, but her great grandmother, Eleanor’s daughter in law Mary, nee Sloane, is a generation too late to have written it. The more pressing problem is that it seems to have been written at Heathly or Haly House (now Hayley Green Farmhouse) in Warfield over a period of a few decades, and there is no evidence the Hunters or any of their relations ever lived there. Could it have come from another member of the extended family perhaps? It may remain a mystery.