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Sexy French Chefs, Naughty Women, and Food
~ by Ann Lethbridge ( http://www.annlethbridge.com)
Lady of Shame is # four in the eight part Castonbury Park Series. Available in print in the UK now, and as e-book in North America, it is also coming out in print, in a duo with book three, in January 2013, with HQN titled Ladies of Disrepute. I must say I am loving these titles, and I just had to take a picture of the whole series, they look so lovely on my bookshelf.
I have always been fascinated by the kitchens in the stately homes I have visited over the years, so I the idea of having a sexy French chef as my hero was as irresistible as a chocolate soufflé.
As was the thought of the scandal if one of the ladies of the house should be tempted by a lowly, if handsome and charming, chef. And just think of the problems a trouble in the kitchen would cause for the same lady who was trying to woo a new husband. After all the way to a man’s heart is supposedly through his stomach.
Part of my fascination with kitchens and cooking at this time stems from the changes occurring during Regency. The move forward into our modern world. The mass production of iron and copper goods made it possible for chefs to stock their domains with every size and shape of saucepan and novel gadget. There were other innovations too, such as the use of metal grates and hobs which made boiling and stewing faster and easier. Easier is a relative term, of course. Today it would all sound like terribly hard work.
Also at the end of the Napoleonic wars, British nobility once more embraced everything French from fashions to food. There was an influx of French chefs, including the great Carême himself, once chef to Napoleon Bonaparte who came to work for the Prince Regent.
Menus in this age of excess were not about eating. They were about theatre and taste and extravagance. I quickly discovered in my research – warning the following may not be for those with weak stomach and you may want to skip ahead – that many of the foods eaten in the Regency are never seen on tables today. At least not on mine. Such things as cockscombs (wattles), cocks-stones (you can take a guess at what that is I am sure), eels, lamb brains and calves udders, to name but a few, were considered delicacies. Um none of those show up in my book you will be happy to hear.
A dinner at a nobleman`s house would be designed to show his wealth and prestige. For example, an intimate dinner for four people would have at a minimum a first course of eight dishes and a second course of nine dishes, followed by a dessert course of four or five dishes. Each course would be put on the table in large serving dishes all at once in perfect symmetry, in a pleasing balance to the eye. Guests would pass the platters nearest to them to those that requested them. The gentlemen would carve the roasts for the ladies.
Here is a sample menu of the first course for one such small intimate dinner designed by Louis Eustache Ude, Ci Devant Cook to Louis XVI and the Earl of Sefton. The cook book then goes on to give the recipes, or receipts as they were called, and if you are interested you can find them on line.
Soup Course
Soupe printannier, or spring soup
Crimp cod and oyster sauce
Two Removes
Foul àla Montmorenci, garnished with a ragout à l`Allemande
Ham glazed with Espangnole
Four Entrées
Fricassée of chicken with mushrooms
Lamb chops sauté with aspargust, peas, etc.
Fillets of fat chicken, sauté au supreme
Petits pâtés of fillet of fowl a la béchamelle
And that is just the first course. If you are wondering about the term “ removes “ These are the dishes put on the table while the staff clear away the soup, so you are not left sitting with nothing to eat before the entrées arrive.
I used this book and others to create my menus for the story, but sadly to my hero’s chagrin all does not go well with the meals.
Here is a short excerpt:
Claire watched him from the corner of her eye, looking forward to the same reaction of pleasure and delight that had accompanied the first course. As hostess of the dinner, the credit would fall to her as well as the Duke’s famous French chef.
Dyer masticated with evident pleasure, then his face turned red, he gazed wildly around and then lifted the table cloth and spat the contents of his mouth into its folds.
Everyone at the table stared at him in astonishment, too polite to say anything, but clearly revolted by the sight.
Mr Dyer’s face turned purple. He grabbed up his wine glass and gulped its contents, while fanning his hand in front of his face.
“Mr Dyer,” Claire said. “Are you all right? Did you swallow a fishbone?” There should not have been any in this dish. This she had agreed with Andre.
He coughed and spluttered and drank some more wine. “All right?” He choked out. “No, I am not all right.”
His mother patted his back. Miss Seagrove did the same thing from the other side.
Claire leapt up and poured him a goblet of water from the pitcher on the sideboard. The man seemed ready to expire.
Slowly the gasping and coughing subsided, though the man’s high forehead remained a deep red and beaded with sweat as he drew in one rasping breath after another.
Could he be suffering an apoplexy?
The Reverend Seagrove pulled the fish platter towards him. It was the only dish no one else had sampled. He spooned a small amount onto his plate and tasted it warily.
“Horseradish?” he said, with a wince. “Or too much pepper?”
Mr Dyer, with his bulging eyes and opening and closing mouth as he breathed heavily, looking a bit like the cod that was causing him such distress, shook his head.
Claire blinked. “Are you saying there is something wrong with the food, Reverend?” It wasn’t possible.
He pushed the dish towards her and she dipped her desert spoon into the sauce. She tasted it carefully just on the tip of her tongue and recoiled. It was like eating fire.
What a disaster.
I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but things go downhill from there….
Have you ever had a disaster of a meal? I have and will share mine, if you share yours. The best or rather, worst, story, wins a copy of The Gamekeeper’s Lady.
 Welcome to the blog debut visitor Sarah Mallory, author of #5 in the Castonbury Park series, “The Illegitimate Montague”!!  Comment for the chance to win a copy…
Castonbury Village
We love to read (and of course to write) about the dukes and duchesses, the great and the good of old England, but for the Castonbury Park series we also took a look “below stairs”, at the people who worked in and around Castonbury Park and many of them would have lived in the village.
The country village of the Regency era was much more self-sufficient than it is today. Local farmers’ wifes produced butter and and eggs, which they would sell at the local market and most households would spin their own yard and knit stockings. A whole community would get together when it was time to kill a pig and everything would be done in one day, cutting up the meat, curing it and making the sausages etc. This was not the consumer society we know, but some things had to be brought in and fashion was beginning to make its mark.
For the Illegitimate Montague my heroine, Amber Hall is a clothier with a warehouse/shop in Castonbury and I have no doubt that she purchased at least some of her cloth from some of the many wholesale drapers in Manchester, which was only about 30 miles away.
There were no dress shops as such in the Regency: those wanting new clothes would buy their cloth from a clothier, or if they lived in London they would have access to more specialised silk warehouses. The clothes would then have to be made, either by the women of the house, or those rich enough would employ a dressmaker or modiste. They would most likely copy one of the fashion plates from the Ladies Magazine, or La Belle Assemblée.
Country families who rarely came to London could appoint the proprietor of a London coaching inn to act as their agent for shopping and other business, and the goods they ordered would be sent back to them on the mail coach – the very first “mail order”! Many provincial shopkeepers would travel by mail coach to London to buy goods from the wholesalers. In the early 1780’s Elizabeth Towsey (who, with her sister Susannah kept a milliners in Chester) travelled to London twice a year to select from the new season’s fashions. When the goods arrived, she put an advertisement in the local paper, inviting customer to come and inspect them. (Susannah later married a druggist, Mr Brown, and their son carried on the millinery business, which became a famous department store, Brown’s, in Chester).
Some families did not have a London agent, but would rely upon the county carriers, whose waggons travelled from the larger towns to appointed London inns – this was slower than the mail coach, but considerably cheaper, too.
Now, all the above would apply to the wealthier families, but for most of the villagers, new clothes were a rare occurrence. I found some fascinating snippets of information about country life in a book written by Anne Hughes, a farmer’s wife who lived at the end of the 18th century (The Diary of a Farmer’s Wife, 1796-1797.)
Anne’s village was in Monmothshire, and probably a little more remote than Castonbury, but although she does a great deal of sewing and she talks of her mother-in-law knitting hose and her maid spinning yarn, the only mention of a new clothes is when her husband has been paid for his harvest and he buys her a new gown. Anne does not mention buying cloth or gowns for herself, although when she goes to market and sells her butter (for 7 pence a pound) she does buy a ribbon for her maid Sarah’s hair.
Clothes were passed down the social strata – the lord and lady of the manor passing on their unwanted garments to the villagers and farmers of the area – and no one is offended by this. When it is her husband John’s birthday, Anne says “…I did give him a pair of blue velvet britches, which my dear lady’s mother did give me in my parsell, and which pleased him mitilie, he liking the good small cloes to his leg covering.”
Anne also passed on some of her older clothes to her maid Sarah. When Anne and her husband are invited to the parsonage to drink tea, Sarah is invited too and doesn’t know what to wear …”so we up to my chamber where I did give her a purple velvitt out of my chest… It fitte her finely, so I did tell her to wear it with her warm cloke and nitted bonnitt.” In fact, it must have looked very good, because Sarah ended up marrying the parson!
When it is announced that Sarah is to be married, there is much talk of sewing sheets and linen for her chest, and Anne’s brother in law sends a package for Sarah, which contains “verrie fine linen for the making of sheets and damask for the tablecloths for her tables. And, as well, a verrie fine piece of white satin with a little blue flower upon it, and some fine lace for trimming.”
The satin was later used to make Sarah’s wedding gown “and it do look very nice, all trimmed with the fine lace and some at the sleeves and throat.”
However, before we think that village life in the Regency was a non-stop sunny idyll, there could be disagreements – Anne most definitely took against one Parson’s wife, a Mrs Ellis. She says that when they were walking to church together “Mistress Ellis…minsed along aside me prating of her new cloathes and that the gown she is waring cost so much, which I doe know is onlie her last yeres turned about and new bowes on for show. This I cappes by saying I will show her my new brockade which Jon bought me last market day….. After we had dined, I did take her to my sleepin chamber to showe off on her my best cloes; at seeing which, she begins to trump up about her new black sylk, which had cost so much and which I do know she did buy off Mary Ann, herself telling me so. Knowing this I could well afford to bring out my black sylk with the white spottes, what John did buy for me and which I had not put on. This did end her bounce so down again. It being two howers since she had fed, to tee drinken.”
And again, when Anne sees a “flighty piece in church” – “April ye 12 – We to church this evening….I did see Sarah Anne Plummer was there, tossing her head about, on which was a new bonnet, that I doubte be paid for: she being a shiftless body. I did also spot Mistress Jones….very high and mighty and aping the great lady, she wearing a verrie queer head covering, like a platter, albeit not so big, with great store of flowers upon it and ribbons adandering therefrom, in which she did look a sight to be sure. She did also wear a bright red gown of a cottony stuff, and not silk as I could see verrie well and she did throw off her cloak to show her finery, but la ’twas but trumperie stuff ….”
I do not know what Anne would have made of my heroine Amber’s warehouse – certainly Amber made sure her stock wasn’t “trumpery stuff” but I can imagine that the ladies of the village would have been vying with each other to look their best and more than one would have ribbons “a-dandering” from their bonnets!
Sarah Mallory
The Illegitimate Montague – #5 in the Castonbury Park Series

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(January marks another entry in the Castonbury Park series…Bronwyn Scott’s Unbefitting a Lady!  Bronwyn is visiting us this last weekend of the year to talk a little about the research behind the story of the horse-mad Lady Phaedra.  Comment for the chance to win a copy!!)

UnbefittingCover

As the Duke of Rothermere’s youngest daughter, Phaedra Montague is expected to be the dutiful darling of elegant society. Too bad, then, that this feisty Lady has swapped her dance cards and silk gowns for racing tips and breeches!

With the arrival of gorgeous groom Bram Basingstoke, Phaedra can’t help but be distracted. He’s as wild and untamed as the stallion he’s training. But Phaedra is supposed to act properly at all times. Even if this dark-haired devil in a billowing white shirt is tempting her to a very improper roll in the hay…

1817, a great year to be a horse!

Giles Worsley writes, “The stable was a setting to showcase the horse, a physical expression of the horse’s importance.” The stables were a world of its own within the estate. The concept of a stable included so much more than just a barn. It included outdoor training ovals (a left over innovation from the mid 1700s), a carriage house or carriage bays, outdoor paddocks, the stable block and the riding house (indoor riding arena, often complete with a viewing gallery). With that in mind, it made sense to set so much of Bram and Phaedra’s story, ‘Unbefitting a Lady,’ in the Castonbury stables. 1817 is an exciting year to be in the stables because many English horse enthusiasts are in the middle of a stable revolution. It’s a great time to be a horse! People are studying and learning how to harness architecture to make stables healthier places. 1790-1830 is a time of great stable modernization. There are lots of renovations being done regarding ventilation and health. Let me share two of those innovations with you; the iron hayrack and the loose box.

The iron hayracks hanging from the walls of the stalls: According to Giles Worsley in his book, “The British Stable,” hayracks were originally nothing more than wooden managers that ran the length of the aisles. These took up a great deal of space. Once iron became more accessible, iron hayracks could be fashioned and mounted in the stalls, freeing up space on the floors and they were more likely to withstand horses chewing on them, unlike the wood mangers. Iron hayracks were definitely starting to be in use in the more serious stables by 1817 and Kedleston, the estate we modeled Castonbury after did indeed use iron hayracks.

Moving towards the loose box : The loose box is the style of stall we’re most familiar with now in our barns. But before this, horses had a three sided stall with the aisle end open and they had to face the wall. Loose box stalls were used only for isolating horses who were ill. But the racing industry around the 1790s began to see the benefits a loose box stall would afford a horse in general. There are some early architectural designs in 1803 and 1810 that start to show the proliferation of loose box stalls for stables at Normanton and Tottenham Parks. By 1816, just a year before Phaedra’s story, the Ashridge stables in Hertfordshire were designed to incorporate a large number of loose boxes and by 1829, the loose box had become the norm. This is a transition that took about thirty years to catch on. Grooms felt leaving the horse loose in a stall caused too many problems.

Other improvements that took place between 1790 and 1830 include ventilation and lighting but we’ll save that for another time.

 

Today we’re welcoming Harlequin Historical author Joanna Fulford, to talk about Book 7 (of 8!) in the Castonbury Park series!  Comment for a chance to win a copy…

Redemption of a Fallen womanRedemption of a Fallen Woman is the seventh book in the Castonbury Park series and is due for release in February. Hoping to save his family from ruin, my hero, ex-soldier Harry Montague, reluctantly returns to Spain to seek vital information about the death of his brother, Jamie. On arrival in Madrid, Harry meets fiery Spanish beauty, Elena Ruiz. Elena is a fallen woman whose chequered past is about to result in her being incarcerated in a convent. Among her transgressions are the two years she spent with a guerrilla group, fighting the French.

The ideas for this story arose from the years when I lived in Madrid. It was the base for subsequent explorations of Iberia, including the wonderful cities of Seville and Cádiz which feature in the book. My travels often took me up-country as well. One weekend, quite by accident, I discovered Patones, a small hillside village in the foothills of the Sierra de Guadarrama. I suspect that most people find Patones by accident. Even by modern standards it’s pretty remote, but at the time of the Peninsular Campaign (1808-1814) it was truly isolated. In spite of their best efforts, Napoleon’s forces never did find the place so it was spared the ravages inflicted on other villages and towns. It must have been an ideal base for guerrilla fighters during that conflict. Years later the memory of that trip gave me the idea for my heroine’s backstory.

The word guerrilla means little war. Although it was an old established method of fighting, the term was first coined in Spain during the Napoleonic Invasion. The guerrillas used hit-and-run tactics in their insurgency against the occupying French. A French sniper called Mignolet wrote home: “We are surrounded by 40,000 Spanish brigands whom we must fight every day – and the situation gets no better, but worse…”

Mignolet’s pessimistic assessment reflects the part played by the local topography. Spain is one of the most mountainous countries in Europe. At its centre are high plains crossed by mountain ranges and rivers. It’s a wild and spectacular landscape, but it’s also ideal terrain for guerrilla warfare. There were numerous bands involved, each with its own agenda. My guerrilla leader, Juan Montera, is fictional, as is the brigand, El Lobo, but they are representative of the different groups in action at the time.

Being undisciplined irregulars, the guerillas were of little use in open battle against cavalry. Where they really came into their own was in providing accurate military intelligence. Wellington had good cause to be grateful for this. After Talavera, for example, he marched off with a force of 18,000 men to attack what he believed to be a detachment of 10,000 French troops. The ‘detachment’ turned out to be three army corps numbering well over 50,000 men. But for a timely warning from the local guerrillas it is likely that Wellington and his force would have been annihilated. Fortunately, he was able to retreat in time.

Spain has been accurately described as a beautiful blood-soaked land. It has shaped my hero and heroine in different ways, and created the deep emotional conflicts that they must resolve. It was fun to go with them on that journey. I hope you’ll enjoy it too.

JoannaF1(Back in January, Harlequin Historical author Joanna Fulford visited the Riskies to talk about her contribution to the “Castonbury Park” series, and her fascinating research on Spain and the Peninsula War.  Sadly, Joanna passed away last week after a sudden illness.  I enjoyed getting the chance to work with her on the Castonbury series, and was very sad to hear the terrible news.  Her next book, Defiant in the Viking’s Bed, is due out in October, you can visit her website for more info and some tributes to her life and work.  I’m re-running her guest blog here today…)

 

 

Redemption of a Fallen Woman is the seventh book in the Castonbury Park series and is due for release in February. Hoping to save his family from ruin, my hero, ex-soldier Harry Montague, reluctantly returns to Spain to seek vital information about the death of his brother, Jamie. On arrival in Madrid, Harry meets fiery Spanish beauty, Elena Ruiz. Elena is a fallen woman whose chequered past is about to result in her being incarcerated in a convent. Among her transgressions are the two years she spent with a guerrilla group, fighting the French.

The ideas for this story arose from the years when I lived in Madrid. It was the base for subsequent explorations of Iberia, including the wonderful cities of Seville and Cádiz which feature in the book. My travels often took me up-country as well. One weekend, quite by accident, I discovered Patones, a small hillside village in the foothills of the Sierra de Guadarrama. I suspect that most people find Patones by accident. Even by modern standards it’s pretty remote, but at the time of the Peninsular Campaign (1808-1814) it was truly isolated. In spite of their best efforts, Napoleon’s forces never did find the place so it was spared the ravages inflicted on other villages and towns. It must have been an ideal base for guerrilla fighters during that conflict. Years later the memory of that trip gave me the idea for my heroine’s backstory.

The word guerrilla means little war. Although it was an old established method of fighting, the term was first coined in Spain during the Napoleonic Invasion. The guerrillas used hit-and-run tactics in their insurgency against the occupying French. A French sniper called Mignolet wrote home: “We are surrounded by 40,000 Spanish brigands whom we must fight every day – and the situation gets no better, but worse…”

Mignolet’s pessimistic assessment reflects the part played by the local topography. Spain is one of the most mountainous countries in Europe. At its centre are high plains crossed by mountain ranges and rivers. It’s a wild and spectacular landscape, but it’s also ideal terrain for guerrilla warfare. There were numerous bands involved, each with its own agenda. My guerrilla leader, Juan Montera, is fictional, as is the brigand, El Lobo, but they are representative of the different groups in action at the time.

Being undisciplined irregulars, the guerillas were of little use in open battle against cavalry. Where they really came into their own was in providing accurate military intelligence. Wellington had good cause to be grateful for this. After Talavera, for example, he marched off with a force of 18,000 men to attack what he believed to be a detachment of 10,000 French troops. The ‘detachment’ turned out to be three army corps numbering well over 50,000 men. But for a timely warning from the local guerrillas it is likely that Wellington and his force would have been annihilated. Fortunately, he was able to retreat in time.

Spain has been accurately described as a beautiful blood-soaked land. It has shaped my hero and heroine in different ways, and created the deep emotional conflicts that they must resolve. It was fun to go with them on that journey. I hope you’ll enjoy it too.