Introduction

THE book now born, in 1999, was conceived in 1976. Talking to Jill Norman, then my editor at Penguin Books, I remarked that, in writing my book on Seafood of South-East Asia, I had been handicapped by the lack of a good and detailed reference book on foodstuffs, of global scope. Her response was instant and simple: ‘If you write such a book, we’ll publish it.’ Not long afterwards, my then agent, Hilary Rubinstein, suggested that this book, which I was by now planning, should appear first in a hardcover edition and in this guise would find a natural home in the Oxford Companion series. In a deal which would now be hard to imagine, let alone negotiate, Penguin, the Oxford University Press, and the separate Oxford University Press Inc. in New York all signed contracts with me for the same book, this one. My role was to produce it within about five years.

I failed on the timing; it took twenty years instead of five. Still, here it is, and the long period of gestation has carried some compensating advantages. Food history is to some extent a ‘new’ subject. There has been a great increase of interest in it during the last two decades, and a wealth of recently published material on which I have been able to draw; see the Bibliography.

I intended from the outset that the book should place less emphasis than people might expect on Europe and N. America, and more on other continents. I hope that I have succeeded in thus tilting the balance, but am well aware that the book proclaims its provenance (the English-speaking western world) on practically every page.

There were to be no recipes, and there are none.

I was also to avoid the risk of instant obsolescence which could have attended any attempt to be up to the minute in dealing with current topics or essaying judgements on developing situations. So there is no entry on GM (genetically modified) foods, although at the time of going to press the issues involved are prominent; and almost nothing is said (under beef) about BSE, a subject still attended by much uncertainty. Such matters are better suited to treatment elsewhere, rather than in a book whose contents may remain pertinent and valid five or ten years hence—or so I hopefully suppose.

That is by no means my only hope. Apart from our sharing the initials AD, I like to think that I have a few things in common with the great French writer Alexandre Dumas the elder. One is the hope which he expressed that, besides deserving attention from ‘men of serious character’, his encyclopedic Grand Dictionnaire de Cuisine would prove suitable to be read ‘even by women of a much lighter disposition’ and that the fingers of these women would not grow weary in turning his pages. I go along with that idea very strongly, all the more so because I have always assumed (quite why, I know not) that when I write it is for a female audience. Like Dumas, I cherish apposite anecdotes, and find room for them. And I echo one feature of his lifestyle, in that I do not drink wine (hence no advice in this book about wines to partner dishes). But in one respect I hope to differ from Dumas. Almost as soon as he had finished his book, and while it was ‘in the press’, he expired. So he heard neither praise nor criticism of the book which he regarded as the crowning achievement of his career as an author. I should like to hear both praise, for the obvious reasons, and criticisms. All the other books I have written, even my novel, have turned out to contain errors and to be flawed by omissions. The same will certainly be true of this book, and on a larger scale. I thank here, in anticipation, all those who take the trouble to send helpful comments.

But first I must thank all those who have already helped, starting with Ralph Hancock, the encyclopedist who devoted almost a year of his time, in the early stages, to establishing the architecture of the book and making numerous contributions to its writing (especially on scientific topics). Major help was then given by Margaret Ralph, Sibella Wilbraham-Baker, and Elizabeth Gabay, in that sequence, all of them assiduous in helping with the collection of information and its orderly storage and use. Later, Andrew Dalby was brilliantly successful in tackling certain specific problems, while Candida Brazil brought her professional expertise in editing to bear on large segments of the book, pointing with perspicacity to both lacunae and superfluities.

Daniel Owen, equipped with computer know-how and ten of the fastest fingers on our successive keyboards, provided technical as well as general help. The same is true of Russell Harris, the only opera singer to be involved in the project and the only helper who combined Hebrew and Arabic with advanced computer skills.

Philip and Mary Hyman in Paris, whose unrivalled knowledge of French food history, now enshrined in the twenty-seven volumes published by the IPCF (see Bibliography), and library to match have been at my disposal for twenty years, also spared massive amounts of time to introduce me to the use of a PC.

They are among the many contributors listed on pages xviixix, and this is the place at which I should express my gratitude to all of them, whether they contributed a whole category of entries or perhaps a single specialized one. Laura Mason worked with me for many years, being responsible for nearly 150 entries on confectionery and baked goods and for much valuable advice based on her background as a food scientist and her own remarkable survey of traditional British foods (another publication of 1999—see bibliography). Charles Perry collaborated for even more years, drawing on his rich knowledge of early Arabic cookery; Barbara Santich for equally long, the voice of Australia and my hostess when I went there; and Regina Sexton, the mellifluous voice of Ireland, throughout the 1990s. Jenny Macarthur made available the fruits of her work on food terms in other languages and wrote on African cuisines; Jennifer Brennan generously dispensed her knowledge of foods in the Orient and the Pacific islands; Doreen Fernandez lavished on me invaluable information about the Philippines, and Rachel Laudan wrote with exceptional elegance on many subjects which she had deeply explored. I thank them one and all, most heartily.

Sophie and Michael Coe were not just a help, but an inspiration. Only Michael can now be thanked, alas; I would so much have liked to place a copy of the book in Sophie’s hands, with her contributions on Aztec, Inca, and Maya cuisines prominent in it. Three other contributors who have not survived to see their contributions in the book are Robert Bond, Nicholas Kurti, and Roy Shipperbottom. Each of them helped me greatly, far more than the scale of their contributions would suggest. Besides showering upon me botanical and culinary advice, especially about Asian herbs, Robert Bond, a doctor, even volunteered to fly to London from distant San Diego to minister to a faltering computer. That generous offer reminds me that my own heart faltered in 1991 and that I should repeat here my thanks to Dr Emma Vaux at the Roehampton hospital who shocked the heart out of ventricular fibrillation and started it beating correctly again with mere seconds to spare, thus enabling me to continue the writing of this book.

One of the contributors, John Ayto, and one of our most frequently quoted sources, John Mariani, must be identified as being the authors of two indispensable works of reference, dictionaries of culinary terms in Britain and the USA respectively. The other major reference book which was indispensable, and opened daily, is that of Stephen Facciola on food plants; while in the last two years, since its publication, Richard Hosking’s excellent dictionary of Japanese foods has been always at my side.

Some of the sources quoted in this book, such as John Mariani, occur very often, while others may have yielded only one or two quotations, but thanks are due to all for kindly giving permission, where this was called for. The fact that there are many quotations in the book and that the bibliography is so long, reflects my wish to give readers as much information as possible about where I found the information which I am passing on to them—and where they might look for more.

For advice of great value, over and above contributions to this book or information enshrined in their own own books and essays, I thank Myrtle Allen, Samuel P. Arnold, Esther Balogh, James Beard, Ed Behr, Maggie Black, Diana Bolsmann, Lucy Brazil, Peter Brears, Lesley Chamberlain, Holly Chase, Robert Chenciner, Julia Child, Laurence Cohen (my French right hand for several years), Millard Cohen, Anna del Conte, Clive Cookson, Derek Cooper, Odile Cornuz, Ivan Day, Elizabeth Driver, Audrey Ellison, Mimi and Thomas Floegel, Gary Gillman, Peter Graham, Patience Gray, Henrietta Green, Rudolph Grewe, Jane Grigson, Anissa Helou, Bridget Ann Henisch, Karen Hess, Constance Hieatt, Geraldene Holt, Nina Horta, Richard Hosking, Philip Iddison, David Karp, Edik and David Kissin, Joy Larkcom, Gilly Lehmann, Paul Levy, Tim Low, Erich Lück, Fiona Lucraft, Cristine MacKie, Valerie Mars, Harold McGee, Joan Morgan, Henry Notaker, Elisabeth Lambert Ortiz, Sri and Roger Owen, Robert Pemberton, Eulalia Pensado, Helen Pollard, Esteban Pombo-Villar, Francesca Radcliffe, Astri Riddervold, Dolf Riks, Gillian Riley, Alicia Rios, Claudia Roden, Françoise Sabban and Silvano Serventi, Alice Wooledge Salmon, Delwen Samuel, Elizabeth Schneider, Terence Scully, Ann Semple, Margaret Shaida, Mimi Sheraton, Birgit Siesby, Yan-Kit So, Ray Sokolov, Charmaine Solomon, Nicholas Spencer, Anne Tait, Maria José Sevilla Taylor, John Thorne and Matt Lewis, Jill Tilsley-Benham, Joyce Toomre, Arthur Tucker, Pamela Van Dyke Price, Simon Varey, Christian Volbracht, Harlan Walker, Alice Waters, William Woys Weaver, Robin Weir, Joyce Westrip, Barbara Ketcham Wheaton, Anne Willan and Mark Cherniavsky, C. Anne Wilson, Joop Witteveen, Mary Wondrausch, Barbara Yeomans, Sami Zubaida; together with John Dransfield and David Pegler at Kew; and also many members of the FAO (Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations) at Rome.

Realizing that no existing library had all the books, in many languages and many different fields of study, which I would need to consult, I perforce built up my own library. Doing so was in fact a pleasure, especially as I had the benefit of guidance from Elizabeth David (she who was responsible for switching the points in the late 1960s and sending me down the track which led to full-time writing). Working, at her invitation, in her own wonderful library was itself a revelation; but it was also through her that I came to know several of the specialist booksellers who helped me build up my own working library. My debt to them is considerable, not just for finding books I needed, but also in a more general way. I think especially of Ian Jackson, polymath and the most widely read man I know in nineteenth-century botanical and other literature; Janet Clarke; Mike and Tessa McKirdy; Heidi Lascelles; Jan Longone; Nahum Waxman; and, looking back a long way, that remarkable and irreplaceable figure, Eleanor Lowenstein, whose Corner Book Shop in New York City was the source of so many of my treasures.

Special responsibilities were taken on by Tom Jaine and Jane Levi, for progress-chasing on behalf of myself and the publishers, coupled with editing and writing entries (Tom) and compiling the Bibliography (Jane); the latter was a laborious task which needed much research, and in retrospect it seems almost incredible that anyone should have been so brimful of goodwill as to volunteer to do it.

Soun Vannithone, who has been doing drawings for my books ever since I first knew him when he was a student in Vientiane, Laos, applied his customary skill and sensitivity to doing drawings especially for the book. Harriet Jaine, preceded by her friend Rebecca Loncraine, took on the task of liaison with him and of organizing the several hundred drawings from which the 175 in the book were eventually chosen.

During the last seven years Helen Saberi has been working alongside me, with her characteristic diligence, wit, and good humour. I could not have wished for a better co-pilot as we neared port. Her own numerous contributions to the book are only the immediately visible signs of a lively and beneficent influence which has infused the whole. I am most deeply indebted to her.

Given the very long wait which my agents (now the resourceful team of Caradoc King and Sam Boyce at A.P. Watt) and the publishers have had to put up with, it is remarkable that there too good humour has prevailed. I thank all the successive editors who have shown patience: most recently, and over many years, Michael Cox and Pam Coote. My thanks go in particular to Pam Coote, not only for having faith in the eventual completion of the book but also for precipitating it, once delivered, into production at such high speed and with such unfailing efficiency. Under the direction of John Mackrell, the whole complex machinery of production positively purred. The copy-editors, Jackie and Edwin Pritchard, worked at amazing speed; while the multifarious aspects of design were smoothly and successfully dealt with by Nick Clarke.

Turning to home, I thank my sister Rosemary and my daughters three, Caroline, Pamela, and Jennifer, for the various forms of help and encouragement which they have willingly provided; and, above all, my wife Jane, who underpinned my work throughout the 7,250 days of gestation with unfaltering confidence in its completion and who did more, and in more ways, than anyone but myself will ever know to bring that about. Although many Oxford Companions have come into the world without any dedication, this one must certainly be so equipped, the dedication being to her with my love and gratitude.

ALAN DAVIDSON

World’s End, Chelsea

March 1999