This book really tickled me. It's out of print and I got it as a Christmas present for a friend but decided to read it first. It is coy and subtle and tongue-in-cheek, thoroughly researched, and geared towards an Anglophilic and Sayers-loving American audience. AND it includes a sweet omelet recipe, which I have wanted to try for FOREVER ("Prepare the [dish] according to our directions and we do not think anyone will die as a result").
Actually, it's this sort of tone that makes the book so charming: "To re-create the above Rescue Breakfast, place bowls of burned porridge on the table. Then as your guests savor the gloomy prospect before them, whisk the porridge away and with a flourish bring on the hot kidneys and bacon, toast, marmalade, and coffee." What a novel idea for entertaining guests!
I also like the advice, "Allow one bloater per person. Not everyone at the breakfast table will want one." My English husband, however, disagrees with the theory that the creation of coffee "in bottles" "directly caused tea consumption to increase greatly"--he explains that everyone knows it as "camp coffee" and wouldn't use it on a real breakfast table!
I entertained last weekend using the cress and the cucumber sandwich recipes. Both were slightly unusual and rather elegant.
The wine suggestions are hilarious and wonderful. "The current vintage equivalent of Montrachet '08 drunk in 1923 would be Montrachet 1966. This may be difficult to obtain. We have included some California substitutes in the Appendix." It is an EXCELLENT list.
"Wassail! Wassail! Peter Wimsey! Wes hál! Be whole!"
Simply delightful. I think the wine suggestions are out of date, but the recipes are all feasible. The book has many apropos references to the Wimsey books, and suitably droll suggestions for when you might prepare the dishes. I will make some, but mostly I think this cookbook is a wonderful homage to the spirit of Lord Wimsey, one of my favorite fictional characters.
What a delight! This book from the 1980s is more narrative with recipes than a formal cookbook. The knowledgeable authors share stories about Dorothy L. Sayers and her gourmet spouse, create menus based on food scenes in the Lord Peter novels and short stories, and discuss what to drink. Done with whimsy and charm.
I discovered that this book existed while trying to find out what on earth 'oysters musgrave'* was, as mentioned in Bellona Club.
Once I knew it existed—though deeply out of print—I just had to have a copy. Even though I find the tacit food snobbery of the Wimsey books rather less than charming at times. No matter. I still needed it, though it was hard to find, pricey, and mostly available in the US (so doubly or trebly pricey for an 'umble Strine).
No matter. I paid. It arrived. It's delightful. The tone strikes a very nice balance between admiration and astringent observation of the mild hectoring that DLS gave her readers about what is and is not correct (and U vs non-U) in the way of food and wine.
I've tried one of the recipes, even. A humble chicken casserole, which worked out just fine.
Should I mark it down for lapses in editing, though? I mean, it was 1981 and who cares? But I did notice that one of the recipes for sole omitted to list the fish in the ingredients list. And that both the recipes for crumpets omit to mention the part about toasting them!
Is this some American misunderstanding of what a crumpet is? Not some pasty, yeasty pancake, but a thing you stick in a toaster for approximately half an hour (or if you're re-enacting an interwar nobleman's tea-time, toast before an open fire on a toasting fork) until it's brown and crispy outside and spongey inside.
I've been having nightmares about American book lovers spending the entire 1980s trying to figure out why their crumpets were so miserable!
* What are oysters musgrave? Who knows? She seems to have made it up. And impossibly, too. So the authors invented a dish for the name. Which amused me vastly.
Nice concept, but I would not want to eat this stuff.
The idea behind this book is unique. Taking passages out of Lord Peter Wimsey novels and turning them into practical cooking. You get the added fun of remembering the passages and feel that you are one of the companies.
There are no slang recipes as Spotted Dick or Toad in a Hole. These people are too sophisticated for that sort of thing. However, what may have proved to be a good recipe is expanded into the exotic.
I did find one I could make without buying things like kidneys, PIPER'S PARRITCH: "In general, porridge is not a regular feature of Lord Peter's breakfast table, although he does on occasion, 'tak` a bit o' paritch' with is eggs and bacon while on holiday in Scotland (Five Red Herrings.)"
In chapter 4 "An Orgy of Teas" just about every recipe from cookies to sandwiches requires an inordinate amount of butter.
"The lord Peter Wimsey Cookbook" does make a nice coffee table conversation book.
Great fun, and wonderful way to remember some favorite Wimsey novels. I don't know that I would have the time or patience to make any of these recipes, but reading about them is mouth-watering and an enjoyable insight into the time and culture of the books. The authors have done a terrific job weaving book mentions and excerpts into the menus and dishes. The wine list at the end "translating" various French wines to California equivalents answered some questions I'd had for years.
A really fun book - I'll forgive the one line of slander against Sir Impey Biggs because the recipes and description are otherwise so delightful. I especially liked the suggestions for creating ambiance with each meal (i.e., for breakfast at Riddlesdale you ought to have one additional guest, representing Lady Mary, who is present in the house but too unwell to come to the table).
This is the perfect book to read between mysteries, instead of a mystery, between cookbooks or instead of a cookbook. The authors have arranged Lord Peter Wimsey meals according to time of day and included recopies, accurate if available or imaginary if not. Delightful.