How to Make Roast Beef with Plum Pudding — The Victorian Way

One of the most patriotic dishes on the Victorian menu, roast beef served with plum pudding was an English staple. It was served at all major celebratory events: births, weddings and — yes — coronations. Join Mrs Crocombe as she prepares this most iconic of centrepieces, with a little help from Mary-Ann.

INGREDIENTS
• A sirloin of beef
• Flour and salt for dredging

METHOD
1. Tie up your beef joint tightly with string, so that it doesn't come apart while turning on the spit!
2. Secure the beef joint onto the spit, with the help of a kitchen maid if needed.
3. Dredge the beef generously in flour and salt to help it brown and form a good coating as it roasts.
4. Make the plum pudding and tie up in a muslin clothing with string, before boiling for around two hours.
5. Serve the beef and pudding together with a good gravy made from any juices.

CHAPTERS
00:00 Introduction
00:44 For this recipe, you will need...
01:07 Preparing the beef
03:45 Onto the spit
04:17 Dredging
05:09 Making the pudding
07:09 Time to serve!

[EnglishHeritage]

We hope everyone enjoys this new recipe from Mrs Crocombe! As ever, here are the answers to some of your questions from Dr Annie Gray:

• What’s the difference between plum pudding and Christmas pudding?


• Did people really eat beef with plum pudding?

Yes they did. Plum pudding was served as part of the second course of an 18th century meal. Meals then were served in a style called à la Française, which comprised three courses, but with multiple dishes in each course, served simultaneously on the table. The second course consisted of poached butchers’ meats (including beef), roast game, vegetables, and substantial sweet dishes such as fruit pies, boiled and baked puddings, and sometimes set creams and jellies. Diners could choose which dishes they ate, and how they ate them. Plum pudding was neither sweet nor savoury: its flavours resemble that of chutney and it contained beef suet, so it was a real crossover dish. It was also a real symbol of Britishness, especially when boiled in a cloth, as was roast beef. The two frequently appeared together in satires, and it’s clear from contemporary writing that they were served together explicitly as a patriotic dish. They are surprisingly good together (especially with gravy).

• How would that giant spit have been used? Why can’t we see it in action?

As Mrs Crocombe says, roasting in the 19th century meant cooking in front of a fire. Audley End, like any other house of reasonable prestige, had a large roasting range with a smoke-jack built in. This was a mechanism which turned a spit or spits automatically. It consisted of a large fan a little way up the chimney, which was turned by the draw of the fire. This in turn connected via a series of cogs to a chain which turned the spit. They weren’t very efficient, and took quite a lot of maintenance, so were very much a show of wealth. Middle class households might have used a bottlejack set into a separate metal roasting screen instead. By 1881, closed cast iron ranges fuelled by coal or gas were common in new build houses and only old-fashioned (or old-money) families retained the roasting range. Many cooks believed that you could not roast in an oven (technically, they were right, for an oven bakes), and there was a lot of debate over the issue.
Sadly, while the roasting range at Audley End can be lit, it isn’t in its original state (it would once have had a boiler built in at the back for providing hot water), and it cannot be used with coal for environmental reasons, which means it is hard to get hot enough to roast properly. The spit works, but is now electric. We didn’t really want to show it to you unless we could show you what it should have looked like, but if you visit Audley End House you'll be able to see it for yourself.

• What was eaten at Coronation parties in the Victorian era?

Beef and plum pudding, every time. We couldn’t have Mrs Crocombe talk about Coronations, because she hadn’t been born when the last one happened, and the next one wouldn’t be until 1902. However, there were lots of other royal celebrations – there were parties for the birth of the first two of Victoria’s children, and then there were Jubilees in 1887 and 1897. For both of the last two, we have plenty of accounts of the planning and execution of street parties across the country. Invariably, the local butchers provided beef, the local inns and cookhouses cooked it (or sometimes a spit was set up outside with most of a cow on it), and the bakers and caterers provided plum puddings. Tea and beer were served, and people brought their own mugs and eating implements. The royals and their invited guests had big celebratory meals of their own, but there were no specific coronation foods at that level of society.

[lauradanielson]

Mary-Anne walked into that kitchen like a soldier ready for the battlefield. She even had her weaponry at hand.

[OldManFerdiad]

"Beef is very prized here in Britain although most people can barely afford meat, let alone beef."
Funny how relevant history can feel to modern audiences.

[michyoung]

Anyone else totally taken aback by Marry Anne walking in with that ENORMOUS spike out of nowhere? I legit thought it was a fever dream lol

[clayhawes]

Mary Ann is Audley End’s first line of defense.👩‍🍳🎠🗡️🛡️

🤣🤣🤣

[eddieboyky]

I loved that little curtsy that Mary Ann did while holding that ungainly spit of beef. She's the unsung rock star of that kitchen.

[jonirnmomba]

Just days before a coronation, the Queen of Shade arrives for her loyal subjects with a healthy dose of upper class shade.

[Kermitthebadger]

I lost it when Mary Anne entered the room with a massive fcking pole

[PokhrajRoy.]

Mrs. Crocombe’s Pearls of Wisdom: Roasting in an open fire NOT IN AN OVEN unless you’re *MIDDLE CLASS* and then you can use cast iron.

[kfynae]

Poor Mary-Anne looked like she was worried about ending up on the spit if she messed up the beef. 😅
It always brightens my day to get to watch a new Victorian Way. Then I want to go binge watch all the rest. Please never stop bringing us Mrs. Crocombe and her delightful snootiness.

[jamesellsworth]

Mary Ann played her role to perfection, becoming the right foil for Mrs. Crocombe's forthright confidence.

[richardneilan]

I was finally able to visit Audley End House on a quick trip to England this past March. Even though Mrs. Crocombe wasn't in the kitchen, the whole place far exceeded my expectations. The estate itself is huge, and the house is stunning. Having enjoyed so many of these videos, actually standing in the kitchen all alone felt almost surreal. Each and every member of the staff was friendly, knowledgeable, and a joy to speak with. I only wish I'd had more time to spend there. I look forward to returning. In the meantime, my sincere thanks to everyone who helped make my visit pleasant and memorable. Hope to see YOU next time, Mrs. Crocombe!

[deeya]

When she mentioned the queen's Golden Jubilee, I was taken out a bit, before remembering that she's talking about Queen Victoria and Prince Edward.

[danieledugre]

Somehow I think that when Dr. gray got her Ph.D. she never thought she’d get to share her knowledge in this amazing fashion! These two ladies just make the day better.

[TrangPakbaby]

My mom does that same passive aggressive thing when its my turn to cook for thanksgiving “and Trang will get fresh cranberries from the farmers market and use MY recipe for cranberry sauce”

[TheGryfonclaw]

Okay so I gather that because Lady Braybrooke is in town, that's the reason her husband gets to have his favorite dishes 🤣

[asue]

I'd be lying if i said Mary-Anne walking in with that giant skewer didnt take me by suprise 😂

[gregmunro]

A video from Mrs Crocombe, is always makes for a good day. I seriously no longer know if I watch it for the Victorian cooking tips, or the shade!

[greengardens]

I laughed too loudly when Mary Anne entered the frame 🤣🤣🤣

[starryskies]

Was not ready for Marie-Anne to come in wielding a damn jousting spear haha, that gave me a good laugh