"Wimsey gratefully took in the cosy sitting-room, with its little tables crowded with ornaments, its fire roaring behind a chaste canopy of velvet overmantel, and the silver tea vessel winking upon the polished tray. 'I feel like Ulysses, come to port after much storm and peril.'
He bit gratefully into a large and buttery muffin."
So muffins it had to be - the yeasted variety, of course - made following Elizabeth David's advice to use olive oil instead of the traditional lard or butter, and baked on the hob rather than in the oven.
In English Bread and Yeast Cookery (where there is an extensive, comprehensive chapter on muffins and crumpets) she quotes Sir Clough Williams-Ellis, writing in 1974 when he was in his nineties, recalling how in his youth,
"muffins would come in their heated covered silver dish along with salt cellar, china tea, cream and folded napkin, and be set down at my elbow by a club waiter still in the livery of the Regency, knee-breeches, silk stockings and buckled shoes ... and all for no more than a shilling."
The Fenchurch St. Paul Rectory may not run to a servant in livery, but Mrs. Venables' muffins were very well received by Lord Peter Wimsey after his car goes off the road in the snowy, desolate Fen country of East Anglia at the beginning of Dorothy L. Sayers' The Nine Tailors. It's a terrific book, and you can read all about it here.
They look delicious. The muffin man was mentioned in Simon Gray's Otherwise Engaged which was the afternoon play yesterday - still available on iPlayer and very much worth a listen.
Posted by: B R Wombat | 25 March 2012 at 12:26 PM
I was hoping it would be the muffins. Can I have two ?
Posted by: Sandy | 25 March 2012 at 10:04 PM
Thankyou, B.R.
Posted by: Cornflower | 28 March 2012 at 11:10 AM
Any time, Sandy.
Posted by: Cornflower | 28 March 2012 at 11:10 AM