My memory plays tricks. I thought I watched Upstairs, Downstairs upstairs in the library at Barmeath with a TV supper on this tray and my terrier squashed beside me in an armchair. That was how I watched lots of other TV while my mother and grandparents were downstairs in the dining room.
But Uppers, Downers wasn’t shown until 1971 by which time I was allowed to join them for supper. All meals at Barmeath were taken in the dining room. For brekker there was Cornflakes served warmed in a silver entrée dish. On the hot plate was something cooked, along the lines of eggs and bacon. Perhaps there was a toaster or perhaps toast was prepared in the kitchen. Coffee was made in an earthenware pot and poured through a strainer. There was a silver jug of milk and round hand-made butter pats in a silver dish on the table and linen napkins. I thought breakfasts would always be like that.
Lunch at 1.15 was a simple two course affair. There were two puddings. In the summer one was junket and in the winter milk pudding. Unless there were visitors tea was on a smaller table in the window. Plenty of toast and home-made cakes. My grandmother mixed Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong and poured it from an elegant silver teapot made by Hester Bateman.
Supper was at 7.30. In summer always jellied consommé garnished with parsley, except for my grandfather who eschewed parsley on the grounds that dogs from the village peed on it. In winter the same home-made soup supplemented with a bit of Knorr. It was served in individual little casserole dishes with lids and then decanted into bowls, creating a lot of washing up. The next course was something simple like sardines or sweetbreads.
I’m about to re-read Hugo Williams’s collection of essays, Freelancing, Adventures of a Poet published by Faber and Faber in 1995 because I remember enjoying it but cannot remember much else. Hugo’s brother, Simon, played Lieutenant/Captain/Major The Hon James Bellamy in Upstairs, Downstairs. I remember all this because he was cast as one of the patients in Alan Bennett’s Allelujah! (See yesterday’s post.)
Do you mean breakfasts aren’t always like that today? What marvelous memories. I do hope the Hester Bateman teapot is still seeing regular use.
An interesting glimpse into yesterday’s world. It is always entertaining to follow the rituals and revels of the Bellews of Barmeath. The remnant of the Irish landed class were just about holding on in the 1970’s, it pains one to think of how many of the big houses have been lost in the subsequent decades. Thankfully Barmeath successfully adapted to survive, and continued to enjoy a (muted) jamboree.
That brings back real memories – certainly of the summer and the jellied consomme with parsley in it and the tea on the side table with a china hen with a lid. And the only thing my mother refused to eat was junket so we wouldn’t either. Luckily your mother made a lot of other excellent puddings when we came to stay.