I find it difficult to describe what British cooking is really like. The adjectives commonly used are ‘good’ and ‘plain’, with the latter being used as an insult as much as a compliment, sometimes with some justification. Yet, plain food cannot be bettered if its quality is right and the freshness palpable. And British food certainly wasn’t all that plain for most of its history! An interesting question to ponder is how the inherently conservative people of the British Isles have come to accept and encourage influences from all round the world throughout centuries, and still do so at an ever-increasing rate. You have only to consider that one entire generation believes that the Chinese take-away, tandoori chicken, spaghetti, kebabs and hamburgers they love so much are all British. The generation just older than them will think longingly of British cooking as baked apples and sweet cured hams, of the mellowness of cinnamon and the bite of cloves in baking, and of peppery beef stews, without ever realizing that the ingredients which make them so special – the spices – are all imported from far-away eastern lands.

The earliest cooked food in Britain was meat roasted over flames, and gruels of grains, sometimes flavoured with vegetables and herbs. The first contact with spices was during the long Roman occupation, but when the Romans left and the Dark Ages cast their pall over Europe, the British returned to a less sophisticated style of food. The most monumental change came with the last successful invasion of these shores by the Duke of Normandy. As well as introducing new and more luxurious styles of cooking, the Normans also gave us many new words for food, for instance pork and beef. And after the Normans came the Crusaders who reintroduced spices to Britain and also brought with them sugar, dried fruit and rose water. Over the centuries, the rise and fall of a dozen empires and kingdoms have made their contribution to British food. For generations Britain has taken what has been offered, chewed it over and kept what it liked the most.

I hope you will be surprised at this book. When gathering material, I was certainly surprised many times. For instance, at how quickly foods which have been common for centuries can disappear. Why did we stop using rose water about 60 years ago, or flavouring our custards with bay leaf or orange? Is it a silly snobbishness that led to the virtual disappearance of the once envied British puddings based on breadcrumbs?

I hope you will use the recipes included in this book judiciously, altering the proportion of ingredients as it suits you – but without moving away from the spirit of the dish. Spirit seems to me to be the great link between the extraordinarily different styles of British food. Through this book we can follow in our predecessors’ footsteps with respect and with the lightness of our own touch.

adapted from The Cooking of the British Isles by Glynn Christian