The variety of alcoholic drinks, and the manner of their serving, has not changed greatly since the 1920s. While the English still figured highly among the world’s top buyers of French wines, their annual consumption was only one-sixth what it had been in 1900. This was largely due to heavy taxes levied on imported wines after the close of the First World War, making French wines very expensive. This did not deter the upper classes, however, for they had become dependent on claret and hock, champagne and brandy. Arnold Bennett, complaining of feeling unwell in 1922, blamed the ‘four Cs – Cocktails, Caviare, Champagne and Cognac’. For over 250 years the English had been addicted to such luxuries. In 1688 they imported 20,000 barrels of French wine, and it was only when Queen Anne levied a tax of £55 per barrel (to favour the import of port from Portugal) that the figure dropped sharply, and levelled out at an average of 2,000 barrels a year for most of the eighteenth century.
In the large country houses between the wars, wine was drunk at dinner, at least when there were guests, but not at lunch. Then cider or beer was usual, with ginger beer as a Sunday treat for the children. (No one seemed aware that ginger beer has much the same alcoholic content as light ale; no wonder we all enjoyed it so much.) The wines were chosen with great care by the master of the household and laid down in the cellar for future use. The wine was left in total control of the butler; often his employer might have preferred to keep charge of the cellar key himself, for many butlers were secret drinkers.
The choice of what to drink with what was much the same as it is today, with a few exceptions. (The custom of drinking Sauternes with foie gras, at the beginning of a meal, only recently became fashionable.) In his book What Shall We Have To Drink?, published in 1933, Marcel Boulestin gives suggestions for fine wines to serve at a formal dinner. These could be followed today with advantage, could we afford it. It is interesting to note that, of the twenty-three wines mentioned, only two are unfamiliar today.
At the start of the meal, he suggests sherry with hors d’oeuvre or soup, or, with oysters, Chablis or champagne. With the fish, he offers a choice of white Burgundies – Pouilly, Montrachet or Meursault – or a dry Loire wine like Muscadet; a Chablis, Moselle, or white Côtes-du-Rhône; or a dry white Bordeaux like Ch. Filhot, a white Haut-Brion, or the white Margaux called Pavillon-Blanc.
With the entrée, usually a meat dish served in a sauce, M. Boulestin suggests a second growth, or light claret, thus keeping back the best wine for the second meat course. This was traditionally a roast bird, either game or poultry depending on the season, which showed off the great wines to their best advantage. He recommends a fine Burgundy – Chambertin, Corton or Romanée; one of the great Médocs – Latour, Lafite or Margaux; or a Saint-Emilion like Ausone or Cheval-Blanc.
With the pudding comes a sweet dessert wine. This would probably be a Sauternes – Yquem, Guiraud or Rieussec; or a wine from Saumur or Anjou, of which Boulestin was very fond, or of course champagne. To conclude, with the coffee, a glass of old brandy.
This account demonstrates how much better the formal dinner of the 1930s, with its two meat courses, suited the serving of fine wines. For in this case the second red wine, always the best, accompanied the simple roast bird. Whereas today, even in Bordeaux, the second red wine invariably accompanies the cheese, which makes for a less happy combination.
In the 1920s, drink began to prove a vast divide – larger by far than food – between the different socio-economic groups. Whereas the well-off upper-middle classes and the aristocracy liked to keep their cellars well stocked, the impoverished and the lower classes never kept alcoholic drinks in the house. For one thing, it was expensive, and what housewife would pay for beer when food was her main priority? And social drinking in the home no longer figured below a certain level, where the man of the household preferred to go out and meet his friends in the pub. (The same is true today, but was not always so; before the First World War families often sent out to the pub for a jug of ale with their Sunday dinner.) Gradually drinking had become a separate activity, no longer connected with eating, but with smoking, playing darts and chatting.
At a higher social level, cocktails provided another chasm between the generations. While old-fashioned families like the Mildmays never drank before a meal, not even a glass of sherry, the young fashionable folk in London became addicted to cocktails almost overnight. Loelia Westminster felt obliged to offer her weekend guests cocktails, despite the fact that her husband abhorred them, and that the butler had never mastered the art of making them, so that a tray of lukewarm concoctions already poured into glasses was the best she could do.
This was one field where the Americans excelled, and none more so than Mrs Simpson, who introduced the Prince of Wales to old-fashioneds during a cruise on Lord Moyne’s yacht, in 1934, and found him an enthusiastic convert. The number of different cocktails was legion; some had silly names, like Rosebud, Mimosa, the Doctor and Between the Sheets. The barmen in London clubs and bars vied with each other in inventing new combinations, and cocktail parties became the rage.
Wine cups were also very popular for parties; these were based on white wine, vin rosé and champagne, as well as non-alcoholic mixtures of fruit juices. Over and above its use in cocktails and cups, champagne continued to be hugely popular, just as it always had been, ever since its invention in the late seventeenth century. All through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries it was drunk by the English in great quantities; in 1887 imports reached a peak when 9½ million bottles were drunk in the UK. In the 1860s, the English developed a taste for dry champagne. The French did not become converted till the First World War; until that time they made it expressly for the English, who were their biggest buyers. Until the 1930s, the French continued to export more champagne than they drank themselves.
Immediately after the end of the First World War, champagne sales in England rocketed, but soon fell again by half, thanks to a heavy duty imposed by none other than the then Chancellor of the Exchequer, Winston Churchill. By 1926, however, the tax had been lifted, and sales rose again. Champagne fitted perfectly with the mood of the late 20s: effervescent, irresponsible and hedonistic. It was drunk as an aperitif, throughout a meal, or just with the first course or pudding, or after dinner. The most popular after-dinner drinks for men were port or brandy, while the ladies might be offered a sweet liqueur like crème de menthe. At about ten thirty, in country houses, the butler would carry the ‘grog tray’ into the drawing-room. This held whisky and soda syphons for the men, and the inevitable barley water – or still lemonade – for the ladies.
Certain drinks were considered appropriate for outdoor activities, like sloe gin, cherry brandy and mulled wine. Sloe gin was made from wild sloes in early October and kept for two months before using. Thus it was ready in time for Christmas, but some would have been kept from the year before for drinking in November and early December. This was drunk before lunch, as an aperitif, and after shooting lunches, at meets or point-to-points. Cherry brandy was served on similar occasions, when a quick nip of something strong and warming was required: after a shooting lunch, or at a race meeting. Mulled red wine, drunk hot, was also popular at shooting lunches, or at any outdoor evening activity in wintertime, like firework parties, or carol singing.
Perhaps the greatest difference between the inter-war years and now lies in their fondness for mixtures of drinks, in the form of cocktails and cups. A few of these are popular today, like bloody Marys, kirs and Buck’s fizz, but on the whole we prefer to drink our wines and spirits on their own, or in fairly austere combinations with tonic or mineral water.
BARLEY WATER
This was often made, not just for invalids, but to serve after dinner parties for the ladies, who rarely drank spirits. When made for the sickroom, the lemon juice was usually omitted.
3 tablespoons pearl barley
juice of 2 lemons
sugar to taste (about 2–3 tablespoons)
Wash three tablespoonfuls of pearl barley in 1.2 litres of water two or three times changed and thrown away. Put a fresh 1.2 litres of water with the barley, bring to the boil, simmer slowly for 10 minutes. Strain into a jug, add juice of 2 lemons, sugar to taste, and set on ice till wanted. Enough for three or four. Kitchen Essays, by Lady Jekyll
LEMONADE
Lemonade or barley water were usually on offer in the country houses, as many women preferred soft drinks. This is how it was made, and still is, at Sledmere, home of the Sykes family, in Yorkshire.
6 lemons
140g sugar
825ml water
(Do put the lemons in a warm place before you squeeze them; this way you get the maximum juice from them.) Wash the lemons and dry. Grate the rind and put it in a pan with the sugar and water. Stir till the sugar has dissolved. Turn off the heat and let it stand till you squeeze the lemons. Strain the juice and when the syrup is cold, strain this also. Combine the juice and syrup and stir well. Serve in a glass jug with thinly sliced lemon, and ice in hot weather. The sugar can be adjusted to taste. For a less strong lemonade use 1.2 litres of water. Sir Tatton Sykes
ORANGEADE
Fresh orangeade was traditionally served at parties where young people were present; the grown-ups preferred lemonade, or the ubiquitous barley water. Orangeade is especially pretty when made with a proportion of blood oranges, perhaps half as many as the others, when they are in season.
85g granulated sugar
pared rind of 2 oranges
pared rind of 1 lemon
juice of 6 oranges
juice of 1 lemon
GARNISH
3–4 thin slices of orange, unpeeled
3–4 thin slices of lemon, unpeeled
Put the sugar in a heatproof jug with the rinds. Pour on 275ml of boiling water and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Then leave to cool almost to room temperature. Strain out the rinds, add the juice of the oranges and lemon, and a further 825ml of water. Pour into a glass jug and chill until ready to serve. Add the garnish shortly before serving. Makes about 1.2 litres. AB
MRS GIBSON’S ICED TEA
As American dishes started to infiltrate the social scene, iced tea began to supplant lemon barley water at tennis teas and garden parties. This is a particularly good recipe; I have reduced the sugar since our tastes have changed in this way, and I like to add some ginger ale at the last moment.
8 tablespoons (45g) Indian tea leaves
4 tablespoons sugar
juice of 1 lemon
juice of 3 oranges
approx. 825ml ginger ale (optional)
GARNISH
lemon slices
sprigs of mint
Put 8 tablespoons of Lipton’s tea [leaves] in a large pan. Pour over 1.2 litres of boiling water. Add sugar, stir well. Squeeze juice of 1 lemon and 3 oranges. Pour juices over a tray of ice [or through a strainer filled with ice cubes]. Strain tea [also through ice], and add to juices. Add 570ml of iced water and chill. [Makes 2 litres. I pour it over ice cubes in tall glasses, adding half as much ginger ale just before serving, and garnish with lemon slices and sprigs of mint.] Mrs Nancy Lancaster
RASPBERRY VINEGAR
Flavoured vinegars are not a modern invention, as might be supposed, but have been around for many years. In France, as many as sixty-five different flavoured vinegars were being manufactured by the great mustard firm of Maille, in Dijon, in 1800. In England, a sweet fruit vinegar was often used as a cordial, for diluting in water or soda water. This makes an excellent and inexpensive drink in hot weather.
450g raspberries
570ml red or white wine vinegar
340g sugar
Take 450g raspberries to every 570ml best wine vinegar. Let it stand for a fortnight in a covered jar in a cool larder. Then strain without pressure, and to every 450ml put 340g white sugar. Boil 10 minutes, let cool, and bottle in nice-shaped medium-sized bottles. A teaspoonful stirred into a tumbler of water with a lump of ice, or introduced to a very cold syphon [or sparkling mineral water], will taste like the elixir of life on a hot day, and is as pretty as it is pleasant. [Makes approximately 450ml.] Kitchen Essays, by Lady Jekyll
PUSSY FOOT CUP
This is pale green in colour, an utterly delicious non-alcoholic mixture to serve on a summer’s day. Especially pretty served in a clear glass jug, with a mixture of pale and dark green fruit, with a few strawberries.
1 litre fizzy lemonade
450ml dry ginger ale
450ml tonic water
450ml soda water or sparkling mineral water
175ml orange juice
175ml lemon juice
1 green apple, unpeeled, quartered, cored and sliced
peel of ¼ cucumber
3 large sprigs of mint
a few strawberries
Serve in a large jug with ice. [Makes about 2.75 litres.] The Complete Hostess, by Quaglino
THE DOCTOR
This is the classic rum punch formula, which someone must have brought back from the West Indies: one of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of weak. It makes a delicious long (alcoholic) drink for a hot summer day, with lots of ice. For a shorter, stronger version, reduce the ‘weak’ content, i.e. the water, by as much as half. I use white Bacardi rum.
1 part fresh lime juice
2 parts sugar syrup (see page 235)
3 parts rum
4 parts water
Shake up with frappé [crushed] ice. The Perfect Hostess, by Rose Henniker Heaton
CHAMPAGNE COCKTAIL
Nothing conjures up the spirit of the 1920s better than a champagne cocktail, redolent of Noël Coward’s lyrics, and the Café de Paris.
In each champagne glass put:
1 small lump of sugar
2 or 3 drops of Angostura bitters (on the sugar)
1 teaspoon brandy
Fill the glass with champagne. Place a slice of lemon or orange on top. Mrs Nancy Lancaster
CUP QUAGLINO
This is a good cup for serving at parties, like a cross between a champagne cocktail and a Buck’s fizz, only less alcoholic.
1 bottle of non-vintage champagne, chilled
275ml fresh orange juice
75ml brandy
75ml orange curaçao
250ml soda water, or sparkling mineral water
sliced fruit in season: oranges, apples, peaches, lemons, etc.
Put a large piece of ice in a big jug and add the liquid ingredients. Decorate with different kinds of fruit in season. The Complete Hostess, by Quaglino
WHITE WINE CUP
An unusually delicious cup, easily made by anyone who makes their own elderflower syrup. Otherwise, use Belvoir Elderflower Cordial.
2 bottles of dry white wine (Alsace wine is good for this)
450ml soda water
1 wine-glassful of brandy
1 wine-glassful of elderflower syrup or cordial
sliced lemon
strawberries
cucumber rind
borage
ice
Mix all together one to two hours before serving. Party Food and Drink, by Rosemary Hume
WINE CUP
This recipe came from Justerini & Brooks, one of the leading wine merchants in the inter-war years, by appointment to King George VI. Justerini & Brooks were established in the 1750s, and are still going strong. This is a most delicious cup, pale pink in colour. It is slightly too sweet for drinking at a meal, but perfect for a pre-lunch drink, or at a party, on a summer day. The original recipe called for maraschino as well as brandy, but this is very hard to find nowadays, so I leave it out.
1 bottle of good vin rosé
75ml brandy
450ml fizzy lemonade
450ml soda water or sparkling mineral water
a few slices (unpeeled) of green apple, oranges and lemons
a few strips of cucumber peel
Serve very cold. The late Edward Tatham, former Managing Director of Justerini & Brooks
SUGAR SYRUP
Sugar syrup is a necessary adjunct for making cocktails, since sugar alone does not dissolve properly. The exception is the champagne cocktail, where a lump of sugar is the traditional sweetener. It can be prepared in larger amounts, as needed, and stored in the refrigerator in a covered jar.
120g granulated sugar
150ml water
Put sugar and water into a small pan and bring slowly to the boil. Simmer for about 3 minutes, until the sugar has completely melted, then pour into a small jug and leave to cool. Once it has cooled, store in the refrigerator and use as needed. It can be kept for a week under refrigeration. If making in larger quantities, and keeping for longer, it is best kept in an airtight container. Makes 150ml. AB