Australians on the whole however, were not nearly as hard hit as their English counterparts.  The disruption of shipping saw the movement of foodstuffs around the world restricted when Japan entered the conflict in 1942. To manage the shortages, and in their attempts to control civilian consumption, those in power introduced the rationing system. Rationing meant a fair share for all, an orderly queue and about being patient and very polite.

In the food line tea was the most precious commodity. Tea leaves were saved and used twice and the left over tea ended up in the ice box to be served as ‘iced tea’ with a twist of lemon. For those without luxuries like soft drinks or alcohol it seemed entirely amazing. And, when the leaves were discarded onto the garden they helped the passionfruit vine (yum) and the choko vine (yuk) grow well on the wooden fence between us and the neighbours next door.

Cream off the top of the milk delivered each morning was another treat. I used to have this all the time while my brother was in hospital suffering the effects of polio, but when he came home we all had to make sacrifices to help him. One of mine was giving up this thick delicious daily treat as we all wanted him to be strong again.

Interestingly, real coffee was not something I remember as having existed at all in our daily family life. Bushells Tea was it. My mother did however have a bottle of Bushells coffee and chicory in the cupboard. She used  it to flavour cakes or to provide an occasional special drink for my father. My brother and I were fascinated, but it was a no go zone.

It was much later when we found out that at many points in history when coffee has become unavailable, or too costly roasted chicory, acorns, yams and a variety of local grains were used to make a substitute. This was because for coffee aficionados anything was better than going without coffee at all. The added plus for chicory fanciers was that it contained no caffeine and reputedly produced a more ‘roasted’ flavour than coffee itself.

I did not taste real coffee until, as a young married woman I went to Italy in the early ’70′s. I distinctly remember having my first cup of frothy coffee, sitting on the footpath at a smart cafe on the Via Veneto at Rome. This in itself for an unworldly girl from a beachside suburb down under, was a revelation and symbolic of going from rationing to riches.

My family grew up with the food my mother learned to cook from her mother as a child, when they lived in the country town of Scone in the mid north of New South Wales. They were all of English, Irish and Scottish extraction and had learned from their grandmothers who had learned from their great grandmothers who had migrated to Australia in 1844. Indeed great grandmother’s recipe on my mother’s side for the Christmas pudding has the secret ingredient of cold tea. It has come down through the family until today and my two puddings for Christmas 2011 are hanging in a cool place as I write this. Cooking the pudding on Stir up Sunday (last Sunday prior to Advent in the Christian calendar) is the way to go.

My mother’s side of the family came to Australia during terrible times of famine in Europe, when potato crops failed. The cuisine they served was a cross cultural mix of similar styles of food, hot and warming for a cold climate.  Food was a family affair and Sunday lunch the big meal, where many would just turn up to share.

My mother’s specialty was a roast lamb dinner with five veg, followed by apple pie and cream or bread and butter pudding. Didn’t matter how hot it was here in Australia, tradition prevailed. It wasn’t about good sense but about retaining a sense of security as well as bonds and ties to those still back home, as they used to say. My job was to gather fresh mint from the garden in the backyard and make the mint sauce. The lamb was roasted using dripping saved from the Sunday roast the week before and kept in a special tin. For our supper our mother would often use the dripping to make fried bread. Yum

Roast Lamb with Roast Pumpkin, Potatoes and Peas, a 50's Sunday treat

A big baked dinner was the culinary delight our mother served in our living room at Coogee Beach for some of the boys from the English Rugby Team staying nearby. They were on one of their first visits after the war and she was wanting to make sure they felt at home. After all we were English she would tell us. I was only very small, but distinctly remember one of the players Albert J Pepperell, lifting me up onto his shoulders so I wouldn’t be knocked over in the crush.

Fitting all those huge footie boys into my mother’s living room was quite a feat. Albert used to play rugby with my brother in law, who later went to England to continue his career at the same club in Northumberland. Albert was a favourite of my mothers, because he ate so heartily and those meals shared were entirely memorable. It was all about flavoursome food, traditionally designed to impart stamina for the men and boys when they came in from working in country fields.

Nana Margaret Schofield on the verandah at her cottage at Darlington aged 82 in 1957

Having Sunday lunch once when I was about eight years old with a young lady who lived next door to us at Coogee Beach for a short time, was a rarified culinary delight moment.  She lived with her guardian, although at the time I was never quite sure what that meant, and later she went away to boarding school so I did not see her again until she was all grown up. Everyone in that house was very proper and didn’t speak while the meal was served and only after that when spoken to. I was used to this regime, it was the same over at my house. No one was allowed to speak during meals because my father was a strict disciplinarian of the Victorian school. Family communication in his presence was zero.

Over at their house however, I remember vividly that the bread was taken without butter. Now I knew that they were rich, I had overheard my parents talking about them, so I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t afford to buy butter. When I enquired I was told it was not polite to ask, and was even more politely informed that ‘butter Carolyn is only something those who work with their hands require’. It all seemed very odd to me at the time, because all I knew was that I loved it, especially when it melted into my Nana’s still warm scones.

Boiled fruit cake with pineapple was another favourite, and a great specialty of my grandmother. Dear Nana, as we all called her, had belonged to the Country Woman’s Association (CWA).. She had won awards for her high, light and simply irresistible scones and sponges. When she came down to the city with her children before the war when my grandfather died, traditions lived on.

I can still remember the excitement my brother and I would feel as we got off the tram on a Sunday and came around the corner of Nan’s street at Darlington. There she would be outside her Aussie cottage waving to us with her apron on with flour all over her hands from the scones she had just made and popped into her early Kooka oven, hoping we were all coming. There was no way to let her know either way we were coming as neither household had a phone. I often wonder at it, even now, and how disappointed she must have been when we all didn’t arrive.

Just popping in without warning to visit family was an expected part of life in fifties Australia.  The culinary delights Nana popped in the oven were enough to motivate us to all be there most Sundays. Sometimes there were three or four families with all my numerous cousins, and we had to spill out into the side passage so that we could fit everyone in. No one really minded though, and I am sure now that the expectation of the laughter and chatter from all the young people was what kept her going until she was 90, cooking on that old Kooka gas stove in the corner. Well do I remember the day that she singed her hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, when it decided to play up.

From when I was about 10 years of age until I was married at 20 I would often go out and stay with Nana and my aunt Ivy, who lived with her. I would stay from Friday afternoon through Monday, when it was back to school or work. That meant I experienced her delicious cooking more regularly than anyone else in the family. When Aunty Ivy was killed, run over walking the dog at dusk when I was about 14, I went out there to stay more than often.

The highlight of holiday time was when, with my friends in the street where I lived and my brother, when he was able, we would go down the hill to the Boomerang Cinema near the beach with a bob in hand to buy a ticket, a packet of chips and an ice cream. Now this was not any ice cream. It was a passionfruit ice cream cone, loaded with my favourite fruit. Even today when I am staying with dear friends who live in northern NSW, we always head off to Byron Bay to enjoy an ice cream when I am there, because they also enjoyed this phenomenon of our youth, albeit in another place. It has become our culinary delight ‘ritual’.

Being taken to the Cahill sister’s famous Tea Rooms in Sydney for my mother’s birthday in May each year was a huge treat for her and also a family tradition until they closed down. Especially when my brother came out of hospital and could come too. He and I had both contracted polio. I was in hospital for 10 months, he for nearly five years. Our Mum would be so excited for days beforehand, taking her best dress out of the wardrobe to brush it and hang it on the verandah so that it would freshen in the sea air. I would wear my best dress too.  She was an accomplished seamstress my Mum.  The dresses I would wear to town, to church and to my Nana’s on Sunday afternoon had a huge hem, which she could let down as I grew.

There was the white voile with the blue sash or, the one with the pink polka dots and pink satin sash. It was my favourite and I was photographed wearing in celebration of my brother coming out of hospital. For the photograph they made him tuck his crippled left arm behind me and took the calipers off his legs. It was all about keeping up appearances, according to my Mum. Having a sense of occasion we were taught, was also very important. My mother would wear a hat, a signal to all of us that an outing was indeed expected to be a marvelous event.

The Miss Cahills whose fabulous tea shops were our families special place to go, were a Sydney fixture for a long time. As an aside, they built a weatherboard home in the Blue Mountains of Sydney because they were scared of the Japanese coming to Sydney during the War. It was Italian prisoners of war who helped to build their house Wynella Gardens, where each weekend they would visit from Sydney in a chauffer driven car accompanied by their maid. With a chain of tea shops all over Sydney they proved there was certainly money to be made in the taking of tea in style.

Then there was the biggest treat of all, one we enjoyed as a special treat once a year. Sitting up grandly for lunch in the Dining Room of Adams Hotel at Sydney, where my Auntie Ivy was head housekeeper. I would also go there quite often and stay behind the scenes with her in the kitchen and laundry while my mother shopped in the town. My aunt sat me up in the empty dining room and taught me all about how to set a table, what all the different knives and forks were for and also how care for silver and linen, a source of pride for her and the maids. It was certainly fun helping them and they would also take me into the pantry and give me an Anzac biscuit, which was indeed a true war time ration treat. I can still taste them now. In fact my friend in northern NSW still home bakes them. She recently gave me some to bring home when I visited. Hers are particularly delicious.  Shocking, I ate all six in one sitting.

Anzac biscuits were served on a plate with a paper doiley, a non negotiable decorative item

Eating out, unless you were super wealthy at least up until the time when I was married (1965) in Sydney was a rare event, reserved only for special occasions like a wedding.

It goes without saying that I was completely overwhelmed when a young man I had been dating, took me out to the very fashionable ‘Back of the Moon Room’ at the Oceanic Hotel at Coogee Beach and became my fiancee. My ring arrived with strawberries for dessert, following a fashionable meal of Chicken Maryland – a leg of roast chicken with a ring of Golden Circle Pineapple from a can on the top served with roast vegetables, We toasted with a glass of Lindemans Sparkling Porphry Pearl, which was the ultimate of chic and cool to serve with cuisine at Sydney in 1964. It certainly was about ‘making life more enjoyable’

We left feeling very rich indeed.

Carolyn McDowall The Culture Concept Circle 2010, 2011

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1. Culinary Delights At Home & Abroad from School to The Savoy
2. Culinary Delights Abroad & At Home from Blake’s to Botanical
3. Sharing the delights of life…people have to eat!

Ladies disporting themselves in and around Chinese Pavilions - Detail from a Lacquer Screen, courtesy Martyn Cook Antiques

The International trade routes with Asia stretch back into antiquity when there is archaeological evidence of cross cultural influences from Cathay (China) with its Asian neighbours, as well as those separated by great distances, such as the Roman, Persian and Greek empires. From the first century trade moved regularly overland between the Chinese capital and the Mediterranean a distance of 7000 kilometres. Roman ships laden with trade goods, gold bullion and coins set out from Red Sea ports each year. The trade with Asia was continued well into the 2nd century, a fact documented in Chinese Han dynasty records. There is also evidence of trade activities through sea voyages from China to many Eastern ports on the Atlantic Ocean rim. Goods came along the Seidenstrassen, or Silk Road (the name coined by Baron Ferdinand Von Richthofen in the nineteenth century) for ancient routes that linked Asia and the west.

During the Middle Ages in western Europe these contacts were, by and large, reduced to a mere trickle, as cities and towns defended themselves against continual threats of invasion by emigrating and marauding peoples. The first stirring of what we now describe as the nineteenth century China Trade began when Europe was still emerging from the medieval period.  Marco Polo’s controversial ‘Description of the World’, written in 1298 described a vast exotic land filled with amenable, happy people who seemingly whiled away the hours pleasantly disporting in pavilions set in ethereal landscapes.

The world that Venetian adventurer Marco Polo (1254-1324) first described to western Christendom was almost wholly unknown and he said himself that ‘no other man, Christian or Saracen, Mongol or Pagan, has explored so much of the world as Messer Marco, son of Messer Niccolo Polo, great and noble citizen of the city of Venice. ‘Let us travel into Cathay, so.. you may learn something of it grandeurs’ he wrote , inspiring the notion China was a land unlike any other.

After seventeen years of living at the court of the Great Khan Kubilai where they enjoyed many privileges, Marco, his father and Uncle Matteo finally returned to Venice ‘I believe it was God’s will we should come back so that men might know the things that are in the world’. Polo’s much disputed account of the wealth of Cathay (China), the might of the Mongol empire and exotic customs of India and Africa ensured his book was a bestseller. Its impact on contemporary Europe was tremendous, although contemporarily it became known as Il Milione the Million Lies. Marco Polo earned the nickname Marco Milione as few believed the stories were true. However on his deathbed he was reputed to have confused the issue by saying ‘I did not tell yet half of what I saw’.

The popularity of Marco Polo’s Travels were, by the mid fourteenth century surpassed by self-styled noble author ‘Sir’ John Mandeville’s Travels. Mandeville enhanced the view of a people who were different, but in no way inferior. Although their source is much disputed they did provide further insight into a culture that by now many found fascinating, profound and perhaps just a little peculiar. Initially Europeans could not differentiate between Chinese, Indian, Japanese South East Asian, or Middle Eastern peoples. That meant the European eastern vision was extremely vast and,  did not really reflect the geographic or cultural reality.

Ceramic traditions since ancient times have undergone many cross fertilizations by their exposure to various cultures. In 1368 the famed poets and painters of the Chinese T’ang and Sung dynasties had already passed into the hallowed halls of antiquity. And, it was also considered by the Chinese themselves that the supreme periods of their major arts had passed.

By the fifteenth century select pieces of porcelain made for the Imperial Court and the more exacting home markets of China were arriving in Europe to be displayed in homes of its successful merchants and noble families. These wares were both respected and revered for their boldness of colouring and modernity of design. They were magically translucent, resonant when struck,  impervious to liquids and considered to be refined, aesthetically pleasing with great beauty of form. To put it into a European context Emperor Wan Li, the last ruler of the Ming Dynasty was sitting on the Throne of Heaven between 1573 and 1620 when Elizabeth 1st in England was contending with Mary Queen of Scots and other issues.

The earliest accurate records we have of pieces of Chinese porcelain in the west are those listed in Queen Elizabeth 1′s will. From this we can deduce that they were highly prized. Burghley House was the home of Elizabeth 1′s advisers the Cecil’s who became one of the most powerful families during the reign of the Tudor’s in England.  Like others they enshrined each precious object with the addition of gilded mounts a traditional practice of western Christianity for centuries. The gilded mounts attached to Chinese porcelains in great English country house collections today reveal the mounts offered a measure of protection against their fragility and highlighted the esteem in which they were held.

The trade to Europe prior to 1600 was sporadic and the Portuguese established themselves at a succession of key points including Goa on the Indian Coast before 1511 and Malacca, which they seized in that year. It was the main junction for the Indies spice trade and the limit reached by the Chinese junks, which came south to exchange cargoes of porcelain and silk. In 1557 they were allowed to settle in Macao and from then onward pieces came to the west with seamen.

Port of Macao in the nineteenth century

Kraak is a Dutch word thought to be a corruption of the name for Portuguese Carracks, whose goods were dubbed kraak ware when they arrived. One of the most notable “Catarina’ was taken by the Dutch off the coast of Malaya. There was much rejoicing in Amsterdam when her cargo of about 100,000 pieces was sold on the docks as the Dutch were seeking to wrestle the trade opportunities away from the Portuguese.

A flexible and entrepreneurial business class developed in China during its Ming Period (1368-1644) and there is a very real idea the western world economic system grew out of its  fascination with the east as she sought to fulfill her craving for luxury goods such as silks, spices, teas, porcelain, furniture, painting and silver.

Seventeenth century Dutch artists incorporated Chinese porcelains in their genre of ‘still life’ painting confronting us with a moral choice. They reflected the Calvinistic approach at the time for that of translating choices into terms of good and evil. Painters used the dishes to reflect the fragility and transitory nature of humankind, as well as the vanity of the collector who have been seen as vainglorious. Fruit in paintings symbolised fertility, luxury and enjoyment of sensory pleasures and Artists also depicted decorative objects to reflect their aesthetic values.

Detail Still Life by Jan Davidsz de Heem

They only existed to the extent that they could be experienced by their translucency to light, which dispelled darkness; this idea had theological links to a belief in Jesus the Christ as the light, and therefore hope of the world. This spiritual perspective was a great force in seventeenth century Holland underpinning the art of many painters of the period.

The years surrounding the fall of the Ming Dynasty (1368 – 1644)  and founding of the Qing Dynasty (1644 – 1911) were uncertain and foreign trade suffered. The Chinese Emperor Kangxi (1662-1722) was himself an accomplished poet and calligrapher, as well as a vigorous reformer, patron of classical studies and the decorative arts. He ordered the reconstruction of ceramic kilns at Jingdezhen that had been partly destroyed during a transitional period between dynasties.

During the reign of Kangxi painting in cobalt blue reached new heights of artistic and technical achievement and the colour and techniques attached to rendering painted decoration under the glaze were refined. The volume of porcelain imported to Europe increased and by the second half of the seventeenth century trade with Cathay had become far more important to Europeans than to China’s rulers, who prided themselves on their nation’s self-sufficiency.

Blanc de Chine (white porcelain) wares made near Dehua in Fujian province were first exported to England in huge quantities. However by 1715 their popularity was waning because of the invention of European porcelain by Johann Friedrich Boettger at Meissen in 1710. In less than five years Boettger’s moulded white wares, inspired by oriental blanc-de-chine, became available. The beautiful prunus blossom and grape vines so admired on Chinese wares were grafted onto shapes preferred in Europe, giving the pieces a distinct flavour of the orient.

Meissen Blanc de Chine

Tea had arrived in Europe in the first ten years of the seventeenth century but only a tiny stratum of society enjoyed it at first, because its cost was extremely prohibitive. The acquisition of ‘china’ to drink tea from became a craze among the very wealthy fashionable. This included beautiful blue and white wares, colourfully enameled wares and simple blanc de chine tea wares all of which were imported at great cost.

The English aristocracy began a daily ritual for the taking of tea. Two varieties dominated the early trade Bohea, which was a black tea and the other a green tea made from the steamed and dried leaves of the Camellia sinensis plant a shrub  native to the mountainous regions of Asia.  While Black tea is also made from this plant unlike green tea, which is made from dried and fermented  leaves. Following the beheading of his father Charles 1 England’s heir apparent and prince in waiting was in exile at the French and Dutch courts. His restoration to the throne of England in 1660 was a great impetus for change. A new class of people emerged, one whose wealth was based on business and trade rather than inherited land as it had been since William the Conqueror in 1066.

1660 was also the year English diarist Samuel Pepys recorded the pleasures associated with the taking of  ‘this China drinke’. Catharine of Braganza the new King Charles II’s prospective bride arrived at Portsmouth on 13th May 1662 on route to her new home. She asked first for a ‘cup of tea’, thus ensuring its popularity.

There is a ‘ large four square teapot’ in the so-called ‘Devonshire Schedule’ at Chatsworth, one of England’s most famous country houses. It appears among a list of items bequeathed by Elizabeth, the Countess of Devonshire to her daughter Anne, who became the 5th Earl of Burghley’s wife. Presumably the teapot went with her to Burghley House and its silver gilt mounts date from c1650.

Plying the China trade by sea was an exceedingly risky venture for all concerned. Taxes, tributes, bribes and deceptions were rife. Storms, pirates, disease and rival traders were also a constant threat during the often two-year round trip voyage to and from Europe. Ship’s officers and crews sailing out of England actively engaged in this exclusive and lucrative private trade, which was either commissioned, or bought for speculative purchase.

Demand eventually outstripped all other trade as porcelain became the largest, most desirable precious cargo from Cathay. Packed into tubs and wooden boxes it was cushioned with rice or other marketable goods such as pepper, sago and tea, all of which were used in the bottom of ships for ballast. It would take until the turn of the eighteenth century for Chinese officials to realize the monetary potential of Europe’s interest in their wares and art forms and begin to take advantage of it.

Carolyn McDowall, Revised March 2011 © The Culture Concept Circle.

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2. CIVILISED – At the Beginnings of Art – Day 10 Precious Cargoes from Cathay
3. The First Emperor of China – Seeking the Mandate of Heaven

Festivals have been an important aspect of human life from antiquity until today. They celebrate an abundance of life and its richness, which was certainly evident at the Grand Hyatt on Collins Street, Melbourne. It was packed with everyone from grandmothers to babies all enjoying a pre Christmas family outing, albeit in the more modern ‘high tea tradition that had the welcome addition of a sumptuous buffet.

The room had a sensational modern fire, burning seemingly without fuel on a marble slab. It looked totally fantastic. It offered us an opportunity to associate with the atmosphere of Christmas in northern climes because the lounge was delightfully decked out for the coming festive season.

The festival of taking tea we enjoyed was restorative in every way and a truly delightful way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Our ribbon sandwiches and an initial selection of delicate desserts came with a flute of champagne. Then we were guided to the buffet to choose what to have with our tea. It was packed with mini tarts, cakes, chocolates, macaroons and some sensational looking toffee apples that made me wish I was a kid again.

A chef nearby was also preparing fresh waffles and just to top it off there was an ice cream counter as well. The hazelnut was truly delicious.

I have to confess we totally disgraced ourselves by indulging in nearly every delightful delicacy. It was like being in Willey Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, total food heaven.

Grand Hyatt Hotel on Collins Street, Melbourne

Afterward my son asked me to tell him how the taking of afternoon tea came about.

Tea amazingly was first discovered by the Chinese some 5000 years ago. However it did not arrive in England and Europe via Portugal and Holland until the seventeenth century. It was introduced into London coffee houses during that time.

During the early part of the eighteenth century the taking of tea was mainly the preserve of the aristocracy due to its high cost. However as the century proceeded, and prices came down, the most elegant and fashion conscious, though not necessarily the wealthiest Londoners gathered at Vauxhall and Ranelagh Gardens to drink tea, listen to music, swap gossip and arrange assignations.

Queen Victoria’s reign began in 1837 and linked the age of the stage-coach, highwaymen and public executions to the age of the motor-car and the eve of the conquest of the air. The Railway Age opened up the country-side and huge railway stations such as Victoria, were built using the latest technology. People from all walks of life began traveling to the countryside or down to the sea.

The benefits of taking the sea waters and air had been confirmed to George IV by his physicians, who had bathed regularly when he was at Brighton at the Pavilion. This idea had now spread to the masses who arrived in droves. Visiting friends while in residence was a pleasurable pastime and tea the drink of choice offered.

Anna, Duchess of Bedford is attributed with starting the festival of afternoon tea. She is said to have devised the custom around 1840, when she is reputed to have said afternoon tea, served with a little light refreshment ‘saved her from that sinking feeling’ which overcame her between luncheon and dinner. I must say I understand her dilemma well. Anna took her tea in the very stylish drawing room of her home with friends and family at the delightful Woburn Abbey.

In Victorian England the Drawing Room was placed so it had the best view receiving the southeast or southern sun. The advantage of the southeast was that the full glare of the sun had passed by the time favored for visitors who came to take afternoon tea. This was considered exceedingly important, illustrated perfectly by Jane Austen through Lady Catherine de Burgh’s delightful rebuke to Miss Elizabeth Bennett on her visit to Longbourne, ‘this must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in summer; the windows are full west.’ Jane’s heroine needed to install a pleated sun blind of silk, in the color green, through which the sun could be filtered when it was shut and be helpful by being ‘very comfortable to the sight’

Drawing rooms retained an essentially feminine character and the festival of afternoon tea was celebrated between 3 and 5 o’clock. Since that time it has become one the most enduring of all of the symbols of Victorian lifestyle.

It was a time aristocratic children got to spend with their parents, before being whisked back to the nursery with Nanny and a glass of warm milk to settle them down for the night. Their parents could go on to dinner and a ball afterward,  relaxing and enjoying themseleves, shored up by their afternoon tea.

When afternoon tea became an addition of the other meals of the day it also necessitated an additional change of costume in grander ladies wardrobes – the beautiful tea gown. The new popular pastime also stimulated new designs in porcelain, bone china and earthenware, together with silver and the new fashionable, and cheaper, silver plate.

Teapots were regarded as a satisfying challenge for every domestic potter.  Thomas Minton’s designs particularly were well loved, appealing to popular taste, with a tea set consisting of a teapot, oval stand, sugar box, milk ewer and slop bowl.

If you are cold, tea will warm you,
If you are too heated, it will cool you;
If you are depressed, it will cheer you;
If you are exhausted, it will calm you’

This charming poem was penned by William Gladstone, Queen Victoria’s prime minister and the Reverend Sidney Smith’s comment sums it up entirely and in a most characteristic English manner.

Thank God for Tea! What would the world do without Tea, How did it exist?  I am glad I was not born before Tea’

Carolyn McDowall, December 2010

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