The announcement of Prince Philip's stepping down from public life came, rather fittingly, two days after the release of a cookbook from grocer-to-royalty Fortnum & Mason. The Duke of Edinburgh's retirement is very much another page turned in the closing chapter of the Britain-rules-the-waves monarchy, and The Cook Book is an account of what they ate through those gleaming days.
The book, by Tom Parker Bowles (yes, Camilla's son), includes the legendary kipper recipe Edward VIII requested flown in daily from Northumberland to the site of his exile, Château de Condé in France. There is a treatise on marmalade, a salmon dressed with a frill of gauzy cucumber slices, calf's liver with bacon bubble and squeak, and a recipe for crumpets glazed with Marmite and crowned with the poached egg of a Burford Brown chicken (the breed is specifically mentioned).
Fortnum & Mason was founded in 1710 by William Fortnum, footman in the household of Queen Anne, and his landlord, Hugh Mason. Casually "Fortnum's," the storied department store is known for its hampers and luxury foods: In 1886, it was the first to stock Heinz tinned baked beans in England.
My maternal grandmother had family in England and regularly spent part of her year there. It is through her that I was raised with a bias for steak and kidney pies, brown sauce and Sunday roast with Yorkshire puddings. Fortnum's cookbook rekindles a nostalgia for the childhood she helped build, one that included an education of strawberries at Wimbledon and Enid Blyton. My fondness for this cook book is both bred and heartfelt.
And yet, the gilded turquoise cover and vermillion endpapers also invoke a nagging sense of the under-glass quality of an era that's passed, despite the simple or "modern" recipes peppered throughout. Plus, the saturated colours and peacock and paisley iconography of the fanciful illustrations in the book have a complex, often uncomfortable provenance – as do some of the recipes themselves.
Take the Coronation Chicken Salad, here featured in tea sandwiches, a recipe based on one served at King George V's Jubilee in 1935. It is studded with raisins, flecked with cilantro, stained with curry powder and savory sweet with mango chutney. The dish is an inarguable classic of British cooking, yet is the product of a colonial past.
Innumerable retrospectives have been weaving a similar romance around the monarchy since Philip's pronouncement, but the threads in all these florid tapestries are showing signs of age. While the food he celebrates is inarguably delicious, the heyday that Parker Bowles writes about with such unvarnished enthusiasm is increasingly distant.
A Fortnum & Mason Inspired Lunch
This meal of soup and scones was inspired by two separate recipes from The Cook Book: Fortnum & Mason, proudly towering Stilton scones with blueberries and one for creamed leeks. For all its visual refinement, the pairing is full of contrast. The soup has a vegetal sweetness from long-cooked leeks and is bolstered by a swathe of cream. Against that, crisp-edged scones have that highly-nasal sharpness of blue cheese, but are touched with honey for balance. Walnuts add waxy crunch.
Servings: 4
Simple Leek Soup
4 leeks 1/4 cup unsalted butter, divided 1 celery stalk, diced Medium-grained kosher salt A few thyme sprigs1 bay leaf 1 russet potato, peeled and diced 4 cups good-quality chicken or vegetable stock1/2 cup heavy cream
Stilton Walnut Scones
3 ounces crumbled Stilton, divided 2 tablespoons mild honey2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus some for surface1 tablespoon baking powder1/2 teaspoon medium-grained kosher salt1/2 cup unsalted butter, cold 1/4 cup grated parmesan2 ounces walnuts, toasted, roughly ground in a mortar and pestle, and divided 1/2 cup cold milk, plus extra 1 egg, beaten
Method
For the soup: Trim the root ends off the leeks and peel off any tough outer leaves. Thinly slice the white and palest green of the stem into rounds, then rinse thoroughly. Trim the darkest green off the stem, then cut the remaining pale green into batons lengthwise. Wash them well, and set aside for later.
In a large Dutch oven or similar heavy saucepan, melt the 3 tablespoons of butter over medium-low heat. Once foamed, tip in the leek rounds and celery, along with a good pinch of salt. Cook, stirring habitually, until the leeks are silky but without colour, or about 15 to 20 minutes. Tie the thyme and bay leaf into a bundle with cheesecloth, a self-fill tea bag or simply bind with kitchen twine. Stir in the herbs and potatoes, then pour in enough stock to barely cover the vegetables. Bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to maintain a simmer. Partially cover, and cook until the potato is falling apart, 15 minutes or so. Transfer the vegetables and liquid to the carafe of a blender. Discard the herb bundle.
Pop on the blender lid, with the feed cap slightly open to allow steam to escape, and blitz until velvety. Resist the urge to run the machine too long. Pass the soup through a fine-meshed sieve back into its pot (give the pot a quick rinse or wipe while the soup is in the blender). Pour in the cream, and more stock or water to thin if needed. Bring back up to a simmer on medium heat, stirring often. Taste, adjust for seasoning and keep warm while the scones bake. Or, leave to cool then cover and chill overnight.
At some point while the soup is on the stove, melt the last tablespoon of butter in small, heavy-bottomed skillet over medium-low heat. Stir in the reserved leeks, a pinch of salt, and 1/4 cup of stock if you have any left from the soup, or water. Leave the leeks to cook, stirring now and again, until the liquid cooks away and the strands are supple and bubbling in the butter, around 15 minutes. Adjust the heat, if needed, to keep them from sizzling
To serve, place a scone in each bowl. Pour the steaming soup around, then settle in a forkful of wilted leeks, a few drops of runny honey, herbs and extra walnuts and cheese, if desired. Offer the remaining scones at the table.
Set aside 1 ounce of the Stilton. Drip half the honey over the remaining 2 ounces. Whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt in a large bowl. Cut the butter into dice, then scatter the cubes around the bowl. With your fingers, a pastry cutter, or two butter knives, work the butter into the dry ingredients until it looks like a fine meal; the butter should still be visible, but not in chunks. Scrape the honeyed Stilton into the bowl, followed by the parmesan and most of the walnuts (save some nuts for sprinkling on scones later).
While stirring with a fork with one hand, pour the milk around the bowl in a thin, steady stream until the dough begins to come together. You might not need all the milk, or you might need a few tablespoons extra, but add liquid judiciously. Switching to hands, lightly knead until there is no more loose flour in the bottom of the bowl. Cover with clingfilm and leave in a cool spot for 30 minutes.
Preheat an oven to 375 F (190 C). Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough to a 1-inch thickness. Drizzle the remaining honey over the dough. Fold the dough over itself in thirds, then roll out to a scant 3/4 inch. Cut the dough into rounds using a 1.5-inch cutter, rerolling scraps as necessary. Arrange scones on the prepared baking sheet, with space in between. Brush lightly with beaten egg, then rest for 30 minutes more. Brush with a second coat of egg, then scatter with reserved Stilton and walnuts. Bake in the hot oven until golden, well-risen with dry sides, 12 to 15 minutes. Remove from oven to a rack to cool for a few minutes. Best eaten warm.
Note: For the most pristine soup, trim off the celery stalk closest to the heart, so that it’s as pale as possible.