Eating Royally: Recipes & Remembrances from a Palace Kitchen

Sandringham House, where the Windsors celebrate Christmas and New Year, is one of the most beautiful homes in England. The house is a mix of styles, mostly Victorian, and sits on sixty acres of stunning gardens with considerable acreage set aside for a wonderful apple orchard. On the property there is a converted stable that houses a museum of royal vehicles and memorabilia and two smaller homes, Wood Farm and Park House.

Inside the house are royal collections of porcelain, jade, furniture, and priceless family portraits. In many ways, Sandringham epitomizes English country living and is a perfect place for the Windsor family to be together for the holidays.

Sandringham House was my favorite royal residence. The house is elegant and the grounds, situated on flat Norfolk land, provide beautiful views wherever you cast your gaze. The kitchen was like the rest of the house—warm, welcoming, easy to spend time in.

The Queen had always used Sandringham for her New Year’s celebrations. But after the fire at Windsor, her stay at Sandringham was extended to include Christmas. So now the Windsors stay at Sandringham from December 23 through the end of January. At Christmas the house is decorated with holly leaves and berries and a twenty-foot Norfolk pine has been chopped down on the estate and sits inside the White Drawing Room, glittering with decorations. The fireplaces are blazing with log fires and even though it may be cold and snowy outside, everyone feels warm and pampered inside.

The chefs and other staff arrive at Sandringham around December 20 to ready the house. As chefs we know that we’ll be feeding one hundred forty people four meals a day, so we immediately prep our meat and fish, check on the vegetable orders, and make several dozen mince pies to freeze and bake later. Besides pies, I’d also make several ganache-covered Yule logs for the nursery and the royal dining room. One year I decorated the nursery Yule log with a fat marzipan Father Christmas squashing Rudolph. There was a more sedate log with a spray of marzipan poinsettias for the grown-ups.

Most of the royal family doesn’t arrive until Christmas Eve. Their Range Rovers drive to the large front entrance, depositing the family into the house’s main sitting room called the Saloon. Then the chauffeurs swing to the side of the house and the real unloading begins. It’s backstairs bedlam. Personal valets, assisted by the Queen’s traveling yeoman, are directing luggage up to the rooms. Christmas gifts are transferred from each car to the white linen-covered trestle tables in the White Drawing Room, which have name cards and ribbons indicating where each person’s presents should be placed. There are hampers of food making their way into the kitchen, either brought personally by the royals, or received as gifts and shared.

I remember each year the Sultan of Brunei would send over an enormous Fortnum & Mason hamper, filled with sugared dried fruits, hams, cheeses, and biscuits for the Queen, and perhaps also for Prince Charles and Prince Andrew. Besides that, friends know that the Windsors are always happy to receive gifts of food and drink, so there are plenty of special liqueurs, pâtés, smoked turkeys, and rare cheeses that make their way to the kitchen. Harrods always sent over an enormous hamper that faithfully contained a pâté de foie gras en Croûte. There are sweets and lots of candy. One teatime treat that the whole family adores are cookies called “Chocolate Olivers.” They are round, dark-chocolate-dipped cookies that come in a long telescope-like box.

Not Your Typical Fruitcake

Among the food we transported to Sandringham each Christmas were six royal Christmas cakes. The royal family would have one for Christmas and one for New Year’s, ditto the nursery and the staff. “Christmas cake” is a euphemism for that often maligned gift called “fruitcake.” Now before you groan and turn the page, I have to tell you that these are very, very good cakes.

They are started in October, just after the Balmoral summer holidays. Butter and sugar are creamed together before adding flour, eggs, molasses, ground almonds, and marinated dried fruit that have been soaked in brandy from the night before. The fruit is a combination of orange and lemon zests and juices, raisins, currants, sultanas, glacéed cherries, and citron peel.

The cakes are baked slowly for eight hours in a low oven, then pricked all over and soaked with brandy and sugar syrup. Wrapped in parchment and plastic, the cakes are stored in a cool place and “fed” more brandy and sugar syrup every few weeks. Their final decoration is fondant icing with additional flounces and frills. The flavor of the fruit, having been baptized in brandy, is rich and mellow. Now I promise that a gift of that cake with a tin of good tea will be greeted with gratitude, not groans.

Cakes decorated with Santa and his sleigh for the nursery and Santa climbing out of the chimney for the royal table. All in marzipan, of course. One cake has Sonic the Hedgehog on it, made the same year William and Harry got a PlayStation for Christmas. A Christmas cake shows Sandringham house in the snow, decorated by Robert Pine, the pastry chef.

Sneak Attack

William and Harry would get all sorts of athletic equipment, games, Nintendos and electronic toys, books, and crafts for Christmas. But I’ll not forget the year they each received very large water guns. Well, those guns were a big hit. And the targets were usually the chefs! All Christmas week, we withstood sudden attacks from the boys. I would be preparing lunch in the kitchen and suddenly I was soaked with water. And they kept doing it. “That’s it!” I would yell at the boys. “You are going to get it now!” But the boys would laugh and run away, carefully plotting out their next attack.

My chef mate, Arthur Smith, and I decided to fight back. We headed into town and found a fantastic local toy shop that sold water guns, black plastic replicas of Israeli Uzis. These will be great, we thought. Finally a bit of comeuppance for those two. We returned to Sandringham just as twilight was deepening and a thick snow had begun to fall. After a quick change into our chef whites we headed across the parking lot toward the kitchen with our water guns by our sides.

Three feet across the yard, I heard a click and a deep voice yell, “Freeze! Armed police!” We both froze. Out of nowhere an officer appeared. As he got closer he recognized us. Fortunately for us he was London police, not local.

“What have you got there?” he asked.

Before I could say anything, Arthur piped up, “Oh these? These are for William and Harry. We are going to shoot them as they come out of tea.”

My mouth dropped open. That didn’t sound right! I quickly explained that they were just water guns. The officer listened to my stammering without cracking a smile. “Best take them back to your rooms, lads,” he said. “Right now.”

Damn. Arthur and I never got to fire one good shot. Not even one.

On Christmas Eve, the adults gather in the Saloon to enjoy tea with cakes, scones, and sandwiches on the sideboard. The children would have tea in the nursery, but I think the nannies always had trouble getting them to calm down and eat something. William and Harry, along with their cousins, knew that after tea was over they could start opening their presents! In fact, the whole family opens their presents on Christmas Eve, a break from the English tradition of Christmas morning.

While lavish gift giving is what we all would associate with royal life, most of the presents the Windsors give each other are surprisingly modest. I remember hearing a maid say that Her Majesty had been thrilled to receive a covered casserole dish. I couldn’t believe it. But the one we all joked about was the annual toilet seat that Prince Charles would receive as a gift—he apparently collects them! Such modest gift giving was limited to the adults; the Windsor children received toys and treats galore. After all, it was Christmas, a fine time to spoil them silly.

A Gift from a Queen

All royal employees get a present each year from Her Majesty, handed over personally. Because there were so many staff, there was a catalog sent round earlier in the year by the Queen’s chief housekeeper and you could pick out exactly what you wanted, within a certain price limit, of course. So your annual gift from the Queen wasn’t much of a surprise. Some chefs would collect silver or knives and build up collections over the years. Then there were other mischievous chefs who would ask for the most ungainly gifts, like ladders or large stockpots, and grin ear to ear as they watched the Queen struggle to hand it to them.

I understand that now Her Majesty gives everyone the same thing: a Halcyon Days enamel box.

Each year the staff were presented with a (store-bought) Christmas pudding and note card from the Queen.

Feeding the Cooks

It wasn’t uncommon to see a fleet of cars heading out of Sandringham after nine at night. With dinner finished we chefs would shower, change, and head out for some local gourmet food. A few miles up the road and along the coast was the Lifeboat Inn. Built four hundred years ago as a smugglers’ alehouse, it served the finest moules mariniere I have ever tasted. The mussels came locally from Brancaster and made their short jump from the sea to the frying pan. They were served in a bowl the size of a satellite dish. With a loaf of crusty bread for mopping the juices and a pint of local Abbots ale, five chefs and a kitchen porter were in heaven.

CHRISTMAS DAY

The Windsors, like all families, have their own Christmas traditions that they look forward to year after year. On Christmas Day, they awake to stockings at the foot of their beds, stuffed with small gifts and fruit, and to breakfast being readied for them downstairs. Breakfast isn’t too leisurely since the family attends morning services together at St. Mary Magdelenes, located right on Sandringham Estate. There is usually a crowd of well-wishers and media gathered outside the church to see the Queen.

Santa on the sideboard

By the time church is over and everyone has returned to the house, Christmas lunch is just about ready. This is the big festive meal of the day. In the dining room, two Christmas trees with colored lights flicker away as the royal family pulls Christmas crackers, reads jokes, and dons paper crowns. Even the Queen wears her paper crown! A large cardboard Santa Claus decorated in red tissue paper is ceremonially perched on the sideboard, its insides stuffed with gifts. The family draws lots to see who gets to pull the first prize from Santa’s belly.

Traditionally the centerpiece of the meal is comprised of large golden roasted turkeys with all the trimmings. These Norfolk birds come from the local butcher, Scoles in Dersingham, along with all the beef, lamb, and pork we served the royal family. The turkeys are served whole and carved right in the dining room by the head chef. We would roast about three twenty-five-pounders on Christmas morning just for the royal table. More turkeys were made for the one hundred staff members we served Christmas lunch. The smell of the roasting birds would fill the whole kitchen and drive us chefs crazy.

To go along with the turkey, there would be sausages wrapped in bacon, brussels sprouts with braised chestnuts, glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and don’t forget the gravy. A large glass bowl of salad was a must, and sometimes we were lucky enough to serve samphire. Samphire, which is also called saltwort or salicornia, grows in muddy salt marshes by the sea. Picked young and tender, it is pickled to preserve it. It looks a bit like seaweed, but is more like a salty, thin asparagus. You can eat it any time of year, but I always associate it with Christmas at Sandringham.

Christmas lunch, Sandringham dining room

Bread sauce is also a traditional side dish and is as much a part of an English Christmas dinner as stuffing is a part of an American Thanksgiving. Like stuffing, bread sauce was created as a clever way to use up stale bread, but it is quite different in a number of ways. First, it’s made with heated milk steeped with onion, cloves, salt, pepper, and bay leaf. Butter and bread crumbs are beaten in to make a thick but still saucy consistency. Bread sauce can’t be made very far in advance and is really best served as soon as it’s cooked. You spoon it right next to your sliced turkey.

After the main course, there would be dessert, then cheese. Dessert would include two Christmas puddings, brandy sauce, perhaps some warmed mince pie and brandy butter. The cheese board would usually include soft homemade Windsor cheese and a Derby cheese, which is an aged Gloucestershire cheese made with the addition of sage. There would also be a rich double Gloucestershire cheese and a Royal Windsor. A Royal Windsor looks like a large capital E, a three-layered cheese whose middle, top, and bottom layers are composed of a port-fortified cheddar, with Stilton filling in the spaces between. We would also set out a huge aged Stilton, which was sent every year from Harrods. It was placed on a large silver tray with a white linen napkin folded around the crust. The top lid was removed and port wine poured over the top of the cheese. Lovely. There was coffee for anyone who wanted, a Higgins dark roast, and chocolate and candies piled high on the sideboard.

After a meal like that it’s time for the family to gather round in the Saloon and, like the rest of Great Britain, watch the Queen’s brief Christmas broadcast. Afterward Her Majesty would usually take the dogs out for a walk and the rest of the family would either take a good hike in the snow or take a nap. By five o’clock if anyone was hungry—and there were always a few—tea was served on a sideboard laden with chocolate Yule logs, Christmas cake, brandy snaps, mince pies, and sandwiches.

Christmas evening there was always a party swinging in the staff rec hall. As secretary of the Royal Household Social Club (my very official title!), I was usually spinning records or working the bar. All the staff came out to dance and have a few drinks. After our hard work, it was our turn to party. And some of us did that with a vengeance. There is nothing like having a heavy head when you have to get up early the next morning for Boxing Day.

Christmas Pudding

Thanks to Dickens, plum pudding, also called Christmas pudding, is synonymous with an English Yule. I’ve always believed that certain sweets and desserts, unlike savory recipes, remain fixed in the collective memory, perennial favorites for centuries. Steamed puddings are a class of old, old English recipes that modern Britain has never abandoned.

During February or March each year we would sterilize the enormous kitchen sink and fill it with dried fruit and raisins that had been macerated in alcohol. Then we would add a bit of flour, sugar, and various spices and peels. The puddings were packed into mason-ware basins, steamed, cooled, and refrigerated. This “kitchen sink” method would yield about forty puddings. When I was ready to serve it, I would resteam the pudding over a low heat. It would be turned out onto a silver tray and then warm brandy was poured over the pudding and set aflame. The alcohol burns off as the pudding is marched into the royal dining room. Yes, it’s a little bit of spectacle, but not just a royal one. It’s traditionally English, common and good.

Leftovers for Dinner

Leftovers? For Her Majesty? No, not really. Royal traditions don’t include leftover turkey sandwiches. Not yet, at least!

But Christmas dinner was served in a more relaxed buffet style—not a sit-down dinner—and the family was free to taste a wide variety of foods, some very traditional and others more modern. On the classic royal side would be stuffed boars head, boiled beef tongue, smoked turkey, Parma ham, and pâté de foie gras en Croûte. These stood alongside spinach and cream cheese roulades and salmon and vegetable terrines. Minted lamb cutlets and whole sides of poached and decorated salmon were popular too.

BOXING DAY

Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, is a uniquely English holiday. There are a number of theories as to why it is called Boxing Day, some involving pugilism! Actually, Boxing Day is also known as St. Stephen’s Day and its origins are found in the practice of giving either cash or boxing up gifts for the poor. Traditionally, gifts among equals were exchanged on or before Christmas Day, but gifts for the poor were bestowed the day after.

Christmas yule logs and a happy birthday cake for Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester, the Queen’s aunt. Her birthday was Christmas Day.

Today Boxing Day is celebrated as a day of sport. Soccer matches and horse racing are extremely popular ways to spend the day. For the royal family, Boxing Day is always spent shooting. Norfolk’s farm landscape is home to all sorts of birds. Partridge, quail, woodcock, wild duck, and pheasant find their way into the royal crosshairs and end up on the royal dinner table. The men start shooting around nine in the morning, and the ladies join them for lunch. Since it is the middle of winter, the cold weather drives everyone indoors and lunch might be set up in one of the stables at Wood Farm. Food is packed in Ascot boxes, transported, and set up on site.

Note thanking me on behalf of the Queen Mum for sending her flowers from the royal household social club.

Shooting lunches always looked both rustic and luxurious, a true glimpse of the past. Here we were in this unheated antique barn serving lunch on beautiful silver trays laden with steaming hot food. The shooters have come inside, red cheeked, and are warming up with shots of sloe gin being passed around.

What to Wear

In her memoirs, Sarah, Duchess of York, detailed the changes of clothes required on Christmas Day: tweed skirt and cardigan for breakfast; stylish dress (and coat, hat, and gloves) for church; silk dress for lunch; casual skirt and blouse for the afternoon; silk skirt and blouse for tea; and finally a formal gown for dinner. That is a lot of changing during the day and the duchess clearly thought it was a waste of time. It is easier for her now. The duchess spends Christmas at Wood Farm on the Sandringham estate, where she can see her ex-husband and daughters and also visit with some members of the family in a more relaxed fashion.

Soup was often served to fend off the cold and there might be a selection of small savory pies like chicken and leek pie, chicken curry, or mutton and lamb pies. A warm stew would follow, perhaps a venison and red wine stew or a blanquette de veau. It varied a bit depending upon what the kitchen had on hand. Boulangère or mashed potatoes and sautéed cabbage would be served alongside. After that, and another shot of gin, nobody really minded that the barn was cold. They were plenty warm.

For dessert, we would usually serve a bit of fried plum pudding with brandy butter, treacle tarts, or mince pies. Treacle is the English word for molasses. Though to confuse things even more, we don’t use treacle in treacle tart; we use golden syrup. Golden syrup is reduced sugar cane syrup the color of honey.

I’d always heard that Sandringham was at its prettiest in July, around the time of the Sandringham flower show. I never saw the estate then, but I can tell you that in winter the landscape was breathtaking, especially when it snowed. After a snowstorm the front of the house looked like a scene from a postcard. Lunch in the barn may have warmed the royals up a bit, but nobody could resist getting back outside. It was so quiet and the cold, clean air and natural beauty of Sandringham put everyone at ease.

No wonder it was Princess Diana’s favorite royal residence. She may not have joined in the shooting, but she loved to go for walks in the afternoon all alone “to clear the cobwebs” as she put it. She would walk past Park House and stop to take a look at it. It was a special house to her. After all, it was where she was born.

Wood Farm

Wood Farm was a small farmhouse on the estate, which would accommodate family members from time to time. If the Queen was attending dog trials or the Duke was carriage driving at Sandringham, they would stay at Wood Farm rather than open up the big house. From my perspective as a chef, this was as up close and personal as it got with the royal family. Wood Farm is the size of a regular home and staff was very small with one butler, one chef, one dresser, one footman, one chauffer, and, of course, twelve corgis.

The dining room was right next to the kitchen, and we knew when the Queen was coming through for lunch because the door would open and the dogs would be herded into the kitchen. I could feed as many as twelve in the royal dining room and six in the staff room, all the while navigating around the dogs, which were jumping up for tidbits. You couldn’t push the dogs away, for the Queen would hear them yelp in the next room and know what was going on. At the end of the trip the Queen would walk past the kitchen window, wave, and say thank you for a nice weekend. Now that is a compliment.

Wood Farm

At Wood Farm, playing with one of Her Majesty’s corgis

RINGING IN THE NEW YEAR

New Year’s Eve was a bigger party for the staff than for the royal family. Yes, there was a chef on duty to refill the royal mulled wine and canapés, but most everyone else was in the rec hall kicking it up. Everyone, that is, but the footmen. They were still on duty, fulfilling an ancient Scottish custom deemed to bring luck for the rest of the year to the house and its inhabitants. This custom dictated that the youngest, darkest-haired footman was to cross the threshold into the house on the stroke of midnight. Once they had completed that ritual, they came over to the rec hall to celebrate the New Year with the rest of us. I remember Cyril Dickman, the palace steward who served more than fifty years with the royal family, stepping up as our official New Year’s Eve host. We would all stand in a circle with Cyril in the middle and he would ring a large handbell as we sang “Auld Lang Syne.”

New Year’s Day menu and turkey again

Another royal year had come to a close.