Not many people know that Jane Austen's friend Martha Lloyd kept house for the Austens at Chawton, where Austen lived with Martha, her mother and her sister Cassandra, from 1809 until her death. Even fewer folks know that, like most efficient chatelaines, Martha kept a meticulous household book, including all the family's favourite recipes. Thanks to her record-keeping, we know exactly what was on the Austen family table. The table started off modestly overdressed, draped in multiple layers of tablecloths. With each course, one cloth was whisked away in a sort of genteel tablecloth striptease, until the grand finale - polished wood in all its scandalous glory. This dramatic undressing often led to guests awkwardly twiddling their thumbs as the table was painstakingly reassembled, a Regency-era intermission if you will. Here's a typical menu.
First Course: No removes, just deliciousness
In late Georgian dining, both the host and hostess played an active role in serving. The man was expected to carve (cue the pressure) while the hostess ladled soup with the grace of someone who hadn’t been sweating over a stove for hours (which, in the class the Austens moved, they likely hadn't). A first course in the eighteenth and early nineteenth century would be a full table of food, including soup.
A ‘remove’ wasn’t what you did when you hated a dish but rather a course swap - often soup that was replaced by another dish. Once that was done, the hostess would announce, “You see your dinner,” which was polite-speak for “Eat up, that’s all you’re getting until the next round.”
White Soup: Making balls better
This creamy, meaty concoction was the life of the party - literally. Mr. Bingley in Pride and Prejudice declared he wouldn’t throw a ball until there was enough White Soup. (A man with priorities.) Originating from medieval Soupe à la Reine, this dish was so posh it practically wore a cravat.
Pease Soup: Your nursery rhyme staple
Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold,
Pease porridge in the pot, nine days old;
Some like it hot, some like it cold,
Some like it in the pot, nine days old.
This humble dish started as a staple for the lower classes but managed to gentrify its way onto the Regency dining table - albeit in soup form. Jane herself served pease soup when an unexpected guest arrived at Steventon in 1798. Her thoughts? “I was not ashamed of asking him to sit down to table, for we had some pease-soup.” The confidence of a woman who knew her soup was top-tier.
Ingredients:
1 cucumber (optional, but if in season, why not?)
2 Romaine lettuces
2 onions, thinly sliced
225 g (1 cup) young peas (fresh or defrosted frozen)
450 g (1 cup) marrowfat peas (tinned okay, we’re not purists)
150 g (⅔ cup) butter (because Regency folk weren’t scared of dairy)
Fresh herbs (mint and parsley for that je ne sais quoi)
Salt and pepper
Method:
1. If using cucumber, peel, cut into quarters and slice thinly.
2. Shred the lettuce finely, discarding any roots.
3. Peel the onions and slice thinly.
4. Put the lettuce (and cucumber) into a pan with half the butter.
5. Add the mint leaves, onions, young peas.
6. Season with salt and pepper. Chop and add the parsley.
7. Add the rest of the butter and 3-4 tablespoons of water.
8. Cover the pan with a lid and place over a low heat. Cook gently, shakingthe pan often, until the vegetables are soft.
Second Course: Strip-tease tablecloth
Now, if you think pineapple on pizza is controversial, brace yourself - Regency dining took "sweet and savoury" to chaotic new heights. It was perfectly normal to find pickled vegetable relishes rubbing shoulders with cakes and biscuits. Strange? Absolutely. But back then, no one batted an eyelid such a confused picnic.
Haricot Lamb
Fancy name for stewed mutton. Mutton was practically Austen’s family mascot. Mutton was actually farmed on their land so it likely made up a large part of their meals.
Fish with Wine and Mushrooms
Southampton’s finest, sent inland like the Regency equivalent of food delivery.
Vegetable Pie
Or, as they called it, “pot herbs in a crust.” Served with a white sauce, because the English have always loved a good beige meal.
Let's not forget the condiments, which were mostly pickles. A staple for the rich and poor alike - except the rich used them to fill table gaps, while the poor actually ate them.
Pickled Figs & Pica Lilla (Picalilli)
Pickled figs are not pickled in a salty brine, but gently poached, steeped, and poached again in a spiced and slightly vinegary sugar solution. They are sweet, slightly tangy, and a perfect accompaniment to cheese, game, poultry – and ice cream.
Pica Lilla was the Regency take on picalilli - pickled vegetables, mustard, turmeric, and spices. The best way to make sure your dinner guests stay awake.
Trifle
Trifle, from the French trufe meaning “something of little importance.” Which is clearly wrong, because a well-made trifle is a masterpiece. This Regency version includes Naples biscuits, sherry, custard, syllabub, and - wait for it - a pinch of mustard powder. (The shock of the 18th century.)
Lemon Cheesecakes (notably cheese-free)
Regency “cheesecakes” often contained zero cheese. Confused? So were they. This version is a delicious almond and lemon custard encased in pastry. Jane Austen, always the food enthusiast, wrote longingly about cheesecakes in a letter to her sister Cassandra, “…we had asparagus and a lobster, which made me wish for you, and some cheesecakes.”
Martha's Lemon Cheesecakes
Take 1⁄2 lb of almonds, blanche in cold water.
Let stand all night
Beat fine with orange flower water.
Take 1⁄2 lb of fine sugar.
Then take the peel of two lemons, paired very thin, boil it in water till they are very tender and not bitter. Beat it very fine in a mortar with the sugar.
Mix it with the almonds.
Take eight eggs (leaving out half the whites).
Take 1⁄4 lb of butter, melted, and let it be cold, then mix altogether.
Bake it in a fine paste in small patty pans, put some sugar to your paste.
Martha Lloyd's lemon cheesecakes
Ratafia Biscuits aka ‘Kickshaw’ cookies
The word ‘kickshaw’ comes from the French quelque chose, meaning “something.” In Regency times, it meant any tiny, delightful, foreign-sounding snack - like these almond and sugar biscuits. Simple, but luxurious.
Third Course: Desserts
A proper Regency dessert table would be served last, and consist of preserved fruits, fruit, nuts, a few simple syllabubs and creams. It would also be served on the bare wooden table - that is, no cloth.
What of the delicious sweets listed above, I hear you ask? Ah, your trifles and cheesecakes and cookies would be part of the second course - all in with the sweet and savoury for the second course.
Live your best Regency life
Day to day Regency cuisine was simpler than many books and movies would have use believe. It was also elegant, and surprisingly delicious. Whether you’re channeling your inner Elizabeth Bennet or Mr. Darcy (shirt optional), these recipes let you taste the world Jane Austen knew - one delicious bite at a time. I'll pop one up every few weeks or so, until you have the whole regency-era table. (Am I preparing a Regency-era cookbook this year? Maaayyybbeee...)
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