When I was in England this summer I went to Derbyshire to see Chatsworth and Kedleston Hall –– they are monumental manors with equally monumental reputations for grandeur. And they were grand, so very grand. There’s a good reason they are often locations for BBC dramas.
But I had heard about another house that was never as grand or as famous, and what I heard made me want to go there.
Calke Abbey was called “a country house in decline” in the National Trust literature. The Harpur family had owned the property since 1622, only giving it up to The Trust in 1985. It was said they never threw anything out and had a kitchen that hadn’t been touched in 100 years… that I wanted to see.
National Trust Photo
Although there had been a priory where Calke Abbey stands that was built in the 12th century, the only architectural remnant of that time is a delightfully blissed-out face bracket.
The Visible Elizabethan Construction, National Trust Photo
The priory building was remodeled in the 1575 (more likely torn down and built over) and that building was quite large by the 17th century ––the 1662 Hearth Tax accessed it for 23 hearths (Chatsworth had 79) but only a little of the Elizabethan construction is still visible in the present house. Calke, as it was known then, was completely rebuilt at the beginning of the 18th century.
Calke Abbey may not be an exceptional house, but it is a remarkable reflection of a very singular family who accumulated (bordering on hording) a very special assortment of objects. I could have spent days there.
Calke Abbey may not be an exceptional house, but it is a remarkable reflection of a very singular family who accumulated (bordering on hording) a very special assortment of objects. I could have spent days there.
The Harpur family initially made their money with law and a particularly brilliant marriage in the 16th century by Richard Harpur to the ancient Findern family. The fortune was concentrated rather than dispersed (as is usually the case) through unexpected early deaths among the heirs in both families. As a result, John Harpur was very wealthy. He was also an esteemed politician in his day.
John Harpur (1680-1741) 4th Baronet
It was his great-grandson, another John, who inherited from all sides again upon reaching his majority at the dawn of the 18th century. He was the one that built the house we see today between 1701-04.
It took another generation for the eccentricity of the family to begin to show with Henry (1763-1819)… and that eccentricity flourished from then on. The Caricature Room is a good example of the beginning of their eccentric decorating style. Caricatures and cartoons were applied to the walls from the late 18th century through the early 19th century and a conservation effort uncovered as many as 3 layers of the engravings–– revealing many years of changing displays. A letter to the 8th Baronet, George (1795-1844) that was found in the house papers revealed that guests would bring engravings for the walls, even though the author of the letter was miffed about his last offering (perhaps papered over?) and said he would bring no more.
Henry, the 7th Baron, renamed the house Calke Abbey in the early 19th century. Henry also changed the family name to Harpur-Crewe in 1808 to pick up an ancient barony, but his petition was dismissed (he had done nothing to earn the title save a half-hearted stab at being high sheriff of Derbyshire). It is likely his marriage to a ladies' maid didn't help and the fact that he shut himself off from society might have had something to do with the rejection.
Henry Harpur
"At dinner he sits down alone at a table covered for several persons, and after dinner glasses are placed as if for several persons and he takes wine in that form, but does not allow any servant to wait in the room.... His shyness is a disease of the mind, which he is sensible of but cannot conquer, and in his letters to his friends he laments that he labours under this difficulty.... He is shy of communication to such an excess that he sometimes delivers his orders to his servants by letters."
After Henry, the Harpur-Crewe men began turning inward, staying out of society–– collecting stuffed birds ––lots and lots of birds (George, the 8th Baron was an exception). The collection went from 400 cases in 1840 when his father John was in charge, to thousands of stuffed birds in the 20th century with Vauncey. Vauncey Harpur-Crewe (1846-1924) took collecting to a whole new level.
Vauncey’s room from childhood to adulthood, Trust photo
Vauncey’s room from childhood to adulthood
Vauncey was by all accounts a great and caring landlord much loved by his tenants but an awkward parent with unorthodox methods of communication with his own children just as his great grandfather Henry had been (his father had married a cousin descended from Henry so poor Vauncey inherited Henry's idiosyncrasies from 2 lines of the family). He also preferred writing notes to direct address, sending letters on silver salvers delivered by servants or even going so far as to post them to be re-delivered to his own house!
He was, above all, a serious ornithologist. He considered his estate a bird sanctuary, actually directing that hedges be left untrimmed so the birds would have more attractive places to nest. He also bought thousands of stuffed birds from dealers to augment the birds he had gathered himself.
Life changed radically in the house after Vauncey’s death, owing to reduced circumstances from death duties –– Calke Abbey went from having dozens of servants to just a few. Remarkably, some of the rarest books and finest specimens of the birds in the collection were sold to get some cash… it is hard to believe there was MORE here, considering how full the place is now.
Almost nothing had been done to the house since the 1840’s (save adding more things to it) and that’s what makes it such an interesting place.
The upside of this was that time stopped at Calke Abbey–– the house didn’t even get electricity till 1963! This incredible State Bed was discovered in a box when the National Trust took over the house in 1985. The bed had come into the house in 1734 (a royal present from Princess Anne, daughter of George II, to her bridesmaid Caroline Manners when she wed Henry Harpur) but had never been installed (it was too tall for the bedroom floor of the house). As a result, the elaborately embroidered silk fabric is in perfect condition and the Trust installed the bed in a climate-controlled cube to keep it that way.
Do visit the National Trust site HERE to read about the Calke Abbey Library that has recently had its 8,500 books catalogued. Even with the books that were sold, it is still a formidable collection.
Do visit the National Trust site HERE to read about the Calke Abbey Library that has recently had its 8,500 books catalogued. Even with the books that were sold, it is still a formidable collection.
Word of warning… I had bitten off more than I could chew with my schedule and arrived less than an hour before Calke Abbey closed with a storm coming on. By the time I got to the kitchen it was positively black inside (kudos to my camera for what it was able to get without a tripod… it was DARK as pitch in there!) and I had to work fast with the clock running and the lovely hosts at the house wanting to leave as soon as they could. As a result, the pictures weren’t as clear as I might have hoped and for that I am sorry.
Kitchen, built in 1794
Can you see the gout treatment chair on the table??
cook’s closet
Butler’s Pantry/new kitchen
That enormous kitchen was abandoned in 1928… and remained just as it was. The butler’s pantry (that was closer to the living area) was re-purposed as the kitchen for the house once again (don’t get me wrong, that room was wonderful in its own simpler way). But the 18th century kitchen is so fantastic because time stopped there nearly 100 years ago.
So, what did they eat?
For a house that was caught in amber sometime in the mid 19th century, I thought fricandeau might easily have been on the menu. What is fricandeau, you may ask? You are not alone. I didn’t know what it was either.
I discovered fricandeau a few months ago when I read Abraham Hayward’s 1852 book, “The Art of Dining”. No less a person that Leigh Hunt wrote a charming introduction that mentioned “frican”.
Leigh Hunt (friend of Byron, Keats and Shelley) was quoted on the frontispiece of Hayward's book: “ It is well known that to constitute a perfect entrée there must be observed a certain coherence and harmony among the dishes – so that fish may not interfere with fowl, or stew take the place of roast. How should we be shocked to see a syllabub responsive to sirloin – a cod’s head yoked to a mince pie—or a frican [fricandeau] lean shouldering a plate of cherries?”
Mrs Beeton's 1861 Book
Veal fricandeau has been on my to-do list, especially since it’s been popping up in my reading lately… reminding me I should make it. This is a perfect opportunity to share the dish with you. The recipe comes from an Edwardian reprint of Mrs. Beeton’s (1836-65) Household Management cookbook, Everyday Cookery. It was a very popular dish in the 19th century that has gone out of fashion. Why did that happen? I have to ask, because it’s so good!
Mrs Beeton's Recipe
Just so you know, Veal Fricandeau is a lovely piece of veal tenderloin that has been larded with pork –– bacon or pork belly––to moisten the meat, and moisten it does.
Larding needles from the 1704 wreck of the Dauphine
Wooden Larding needle from the 1704 wreck of the Dauphine
I hadn’t larded anything since a leg of lamb 20 years ago but discovered it was simple to do without a larding needle (I used a knife and the dull end of a toothpick—not as elegant but effective). As I larded, I even had a flashback of my gram’s old larding needle that used to fascinate me as a child since it looked like a wicked cool weapon (come to think of it, I believe I once menaced my younger brother with it –– which prompted its removal from the drawer and my reach).
The veal was buttery tender and the larding added a lovely porkiness to the veal when cooked low and slow. I got my veal and pork belly from D'Atagnan ––I didn't know veal could be this succulent and delicious!
Served with the vegetables it was cooked with as well as the spinach that was recommended as a side… it is a splendid meal. I decided to gild the lily further by adding my favorite fennel mashed potatoes, inspired by a Matthew Kenney recipe in the great book, Comforting Foods, that I’ve told you about before. I’ve been making them for years and they are always wonderful.
Served with the vegetables it was cooked with as well as the spinach that was recommended as a side… it is a splendid meal. I decided to gild the lily further by adding my favorite fennel mashed potatoes, inspired by a Matthew Kenney recipe in the great book, Comforting Foods, that I’ve told you about before. I’ve been making them for years and they are always wonderful.
Veal Fricandeau, based on Mrs. Beeton’s recipe, serves 4
1 piece of veal tenderloin from D'Artagnan, 1 ½ -2 pounds
A hand size piece of pork belly, skin removed or 4 to 5 strips of thick bacon
¼ c of Madeira
1 c stock
2 carrots (I used lovely burgundy carrots – red on the outside and gold on the inside!)
1 large onion, sliced in half
bunch of herbs ( marjoram, parsley, sage, thyme, rosemary, savory)
½ t mace
¼ t allspice
2 bay leaves
salt and pepper
extra herbs for garnish
2 T flour (optional)
Take the veal and use a thin knife or a larding needle to insert slivers of bacon or pork belly into the veal, leave a few pieces of the fat (I did around 12 pieces). Marinate it in the Madeira for an hour or so.
Preheat the oven to 250ºTake some of the bacon or pork belly and render some fat. Dry the meat, then salt and pepper the veal and then brown in the fat. Lay pork skin left over from the pork belly or another slice of bacon in the dish (I used a small ceramic lidded dish). Add the onion, sliced in half, the carrots and herbs. Pour in the stock, demiglace and left-over Madeira and place the meat on top of the vegetables. The idea is that the meat doesn’t sit in the liquid but rather sits above it on a little vegetable “rack”. Cook for 2 ½ hours, covered, basting from time to time. Remove the lid and cook for ½ an hour more.
Remove the meat and tent. Pour out the stock and strain. Remove the fat and reduce it till it is thickened if you want it plain or, if you wish to add flour, reduce it a little, add a flour slurry and stir until thickened.
Fennel Mashed Potatoes, serves 4
2 pounds potatoes, cut into chunks
¼ c heavy cream *
¼ c milk*
¼ t mace
2 T butter
salt and pepper to taste
½ large fennel, sliced thinly on a mandoline
½ large onion, sliced thinly on a mandoline
2 T butter
1 T sugar
s & p to taste
fennel fronds for garnish
Melt the butter. Sauté the fennel and onion slowly until soft and browning… add the sugar and continue to cook till brown and sugary.
While that is cooking, cook the potatoes, drain and mash with milk, cream and the rest.
Add the fennel mixture and serve to very happy guests.
* the amount of liquid needed varies with the potatoes. Start with the amounts given and add more if needed.
Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday
Last, I want to send you over to my friend Deborah Chud from A Doctor's Kitchen. She has a bang up new app for your Iphone or Ipad called Trufflehead. Here you can get wonderful, healthful recipes and even shopping lists to send out when you've assigned a shopper for a meal (is that a great idea or what?).
The app is HERE on ITUNES or you can visit the Trufflehead Website HERE. You can get a preview of how it all works on YouTube HERE. You will be ever so happy you did. There are even some Lostpastremembered recipes on it. Since I do a lot of rich food for the blog... I love Deborah's recipes for the rest of my week. They are smart and delicious!
To promote it, she will giveaway 20 apps here... first come first serve... you need an Iphone or Ipad to make it work! Just say you would like one in the comments, email me with your email address and I'll send you the info. Good Luck!
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