Marvelous Merry Christmas With Maria Grace
Thanks so much for having me Barbara! I’m so excited
about this Christmas season! It’s been a doozy of a year in these parts, so
much that it calls for not one, but two Christmas books. They were released on December 1. The two books go along
with The Darcys’ First Christmas,
kind of forming bookends to the story. Darcy
and Elizabeth: Christmas 1811 tells the behind the scenes story of what
might have happened during the Christmastide Darcy spent in London, while the
militia (and Wickham!) wintered in Meryton. From
Admiration to Love tells the story of the Darcys’ second Christmas as they
try to hold Georgiana’s coming out at the Twelfth Night ball as Lady Catherine
and Anne de Bourgh descend as very unwelcome guests. (The story was such fun to
write, I hope you love it as much as I do!)
One of my favorite parts of writing is getting to
‘dress the set’ as it were with bits and bobs from the era. Food is often one
of those bits; the sights and smells and tastes of a place are so evocative,
aren’t they? So I often find myself in a deep dive looking for what my
characters would have been eating and what it would smell and taste like.
From
Admiration to Love has
a scene that includes sitting down to breakfast that just screamed for a
cinnamon roll—it was exactly what needed to be on the table. BUT, the big
questions was whether or not such things actually existed in the day.
Naturally, the answer was ‘sort of’. Obviously,
Cinnabon wasn’t around then, but apparently, there was a Georgian era
doppelganger lurking about, ready to supply a cinnamon roll fix. Seriously, the more things change, the more
they stay the same.
In the Chelsea area of London, there was the Chelsea
Bun house, famous for its namesake, the Chelsea bun (as well as hot cross
buns.) The place was so famous, it was patronized by Kings George II and George
III.
The Chelsea Bun House appears to
have started business early in the 1700’s, appearing in a journal entry by Jonathan Swift in 1711. Over a hundred years later Sir Richard
Phillips wrote in A Morning's Walk from London to Kew that the shop
had been operated by the same Hand family for four generations. Unfortunately,
the last of the family died in 1839, and with him, the Chelsea Bun House came
to an end.
The buns continue to be made
though. They start with a rich yeast dough that may be flavored with lemon
peel, cinnamon or other mixed spices. Currants, brown sugar and butter are
spread over the dough before it is rolled and cut into individual buns. After
baking it is covered with a sticky sugar glaze. Sounds nothing like a cinnamon
roll at all, huh?
Here’s a modern version of the
traditional Chelsea Bun. I may just be making these for New Year’s. I’ll share
pictures if I do—and you must do the same if you try them!
·
2
cups all-purpose flour
·
pinch
of salt
·
2
1/4 teaspoons (1 envelope) yeast
·
1/4
teaspoon sugar
·
5
tablespoons butter, divided
·
1
3/4 cups milk, divided
·
1
egg, beaten
·
Vegetable
oil
For the Filling:
·
1
cup raisins or currants
·
1/2
cup brown sugar
·
1/4
teaspoon cinnamon
For the Icing:
·
4
tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
Combine
the flour and salt in a large bowl; make a well in the center.
Sprinkle
yeast and sugar into the well. Heat 2 tablespoons butter and 1 1/2 cups milk
over medium heat until the butter has melted and the milk is just warm. Cool for
2 minutes. Pour the milk into the flour well.
Mix
and add beaten egg. Mix until a dough forms.
Knead
by hand for 5 minutes. Coat with thin layer of vegetable oil and place in a
bowl covered with a towel. Leave to rise
in a warm place, until roughly doubled in size, about 1 hour.
Press
down dough, and turn out onto a floured work surface. Roll dough with a rolling
pin into a rough 8- by 13-inch rectangle. Melt 2 more tablespoons butter. Brush
dough with butter, leaving a 1-inch border along the top (long) edge. Add
raisins and brown sugar on top of butter. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Gently roll along
to long side to form a 13 inch-wide roll. Cut the tube into 8 equal pieces.
Butter
an 8- by 11-inch baking dish and place rolls in dish. Let the buns rise in a
warm place until doubled again, about 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 375°F. Bake in
center of the oven until golden brown, about 20 minutes.
Combine
the remaining 1/4 cup milk and the confectioner's sugar in a saucepan and whisk
until smooth. Simmer and cook for 2 minutes. Pour over buns while still warm.
Serve warm.
Here’s a sneak peek into From Admiration to Love.
Sunday, November 21, 1813
After
a light nuncheon, Elizabeth invited Darcy, Georgiana, and Fitzwilliam to the
kitchen, just as her mother had done every Stir it Up Sunday since Elizabeth
could remember. Pemberley’s kitchen was huge compared to Longbourn’s, filled
with servants baking, making plum puddings, and working on dinner preparations.
The air was thick with the fragrances of brandy and spices hanging in the humid
heat of the great boiling cauldrons that already contained prepared puddings.
How many were needed to distribute on the estate and in the parish? Elizabeth
had lost count. Thankfully Cook had not.
A
worktable had been set up in a more-or-less out of the way corner of the
kitchen, with all the sweet-smelling makings for plum pudding ready and waiting
in small bowls. The menfolk would have no patience for chopping and measuring,
so it was best done for them. Even this was a little too much like cooking to
be for their comfort. She gestured for them to stand around the table.
“I
do hope you are going to tell us what to do.” Fitzwilliam laughed and elbowed
Darcy.
“What,
you do not know how to cook, too?” Elizabeth reached for the large earthenware
bowl in the middle of the table. “You would have me believe an officer of His
Majesty—albeit former officer—capable of anything.”
“I
can roast a haunch of meat over a campfire, if that is what you are asking. But
more than that I am told is not the province of men.”
“But
are not French man-cooks considered the height of culinary expression?”
Georgiana stared at the table. She had grown far more bold and able to
tease—and be teased—good-naturedly, but still was not fully sure of herself in doing
it.
“I
stand corrected.” Fitzwilliam bowed at Georgiana. “I shall immediately find
myself an apprenticeship with one of them and shower you with fine offerings
from the kitchen.”
Georgiana
giggled.
“I
would be pleased if you would simply bring back some venison when you go
hunting.” Elizabeth lifted her brows and stared at him.
Fitzwilliam
laughed heartily.
“Perhaps
we ought to attend to the pudding?” Darcy struggled not to smile.
“A
very good suggestion indeed. Now, we have thirteen ingredients to add—”
“A
most auspicious number, thirteen. I am told it is unlucky.” Fitzwilliam peered
at the small bowls on the table and counted under his breath.
“Thirteen
for Christ and the apostles.” Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the table. “Has
your mother not taught you—”
“My
mother had nothing to do with the kitchen, even for the sake of a Christmas
pudding, unlike Aunt Darcy who was quite as fond as stirring them up as you.
You, my dear cousin, must make up for my mother’s lack.”
“Then
pay attention, or I shall have to send you out like a recalcitrant school boy,
and have our master deal with you.” Elizabeth gestured toward Darcy.
Darcy
snorted. Poor man might hurt himself trying to keep a straight face.
“A
dire threat indeed. I shall behave myself with all decorum now.” Fitzwilliam
raised open hands in surrender.
“See
that you do. Now, I shall add the flour and suet and pass it to the east.” She
pushed the bowl toward Fitzwilliam. “You have the dried fruits and nuts—just
pour them in on top, like that. You might make a man-cook yet.”
Fitzwilliam
lifted his hand high and sprinkled in the chopped nuts with a flourish, then
passed the bowl to Georgiana.
“Add
in the bread crumbs and milk. Here is the citron already soaked in brandy. Pour
that in, too.”
“You
have kept the brandy from me?” Fitzwilliam wrinkled his face into a pout.
“My
wife is very wise in all things.” Darcy took the bowl from Georgiana. He poured
in the spices, eggs and sugar from the small bowls near him.
“And
you my dear are the most sensible of men.” Elizabeth took the bowl again and
reached for a wooden spoon. “This spoon is to remind us of the wood of the
Christ child’s crib. Now stir it clockwise with your eyes closed and make a
wish.”
“That
is a relief, I thought you might hit me with that.” Fitzwilliam took the spoon.
“I
will have to keep that possibility in mind. Now, stir the pudding.”
“By
Jove, this is heavy! I had no idea!” He struggled to pull the spoon through the
pudding.
Georgiana
crowded him away from the bowl. “Here, here, stop complaining and let me.” She
struggled against the heavy batter.
“Stir
up, we beseech thee, the pudding in the pot. And when we do get home tonight,
we'll eat it up hot.” Fitzwilliam crossed his arms and pressed his tongue into
his cheek. “Or not, at the rate you are going.”
“Help
me, brother.” Georgiana handed Darcy the spoon.
Cradling
the bowl with one arm, he dragged the spoon through the thick slurry. A fine
sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. “I think I do not pay our cook
enough.”
Fitzwilliam
slapped his thighs and chortled.
“Is
it done now, Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked.
“Only
one more thing to add.” She took the bowl from Darcy. “We cannot forget the
charms! They are very dear to my family. You see, each year when someone has
found the silver ring, they have indeed become betrothed. It began with my
mother and father.”
“Did
you find the ring the year my brother offered you marriage?”
“No,
but the husband of one of my sisters did, so the tradition continued.” No need
to mention it was Wickham who found the ring that year. She dropped the silver
charms into the pudding and stirred until they disappeared amidst the dried
fruits and nuts and she was quite short of breath. “Georgiana, hand me that
buttered cloth, and you two strong gentlemen—who do not pay the cook enough for
this chore—dump out the pudding and tie it up to boil.”
Darcy
and Fitzwilliam struggled with the pudding, finally calling in Cook’s
assistance to tie it up and haul it away to a large boiling cauldron.
“With
that, I think I shall seek out some far easier recreation. What say you
Georgiana, would archery suit you?”
“You
consider that easier than making a pudding?”
“Far
easier and cleaner.” He dusted flour off his jacket. “Shall we have a quarter
of an hour to clean the flour from our hands and don our shooting dress? I will
see you on the back lawn then?”
“I
am a frightful bad shot you know.” Georgiana followed him out.
“Not
an incurable malady I assure you.”
Darcy
shook his head as he watched them leave, then turned his gaze on Elizabeth. “You
have flour on your cheek.”
“Do
I?”
He
pulled out his handkerchief and dusted her cheek, gently, tenderly, almost like
a kiss. “There, much better.”
“I
am certain this is not the way your mother must have stirred up puddings.” She
bit her lower lip.
“What
matter is that? Pemberley needs laughter, and I am thankful to hear it. I look
forward to many more Christmas puddings stirred up just this way.”
She
leaned her head on his shoulder. “I am glad to hear that.”
“There
is one favor I might ask, though. Is there any way to prevent that ring from
finding its way into either Fitzwilliam’s or Georgiana’s pudding? I can see no
good coming of it, especially in the presence of a large party.”
“You
mean this one?” She opened her hand. A tiny silver ring twinkled in the
sunlight.
“My
wife is indeed the wisest woman in Derbyshire!”
“Not
in all of England?”
“I
am not far from being convinced of that as well.”
Thanks so much for letting me come by and visit Barbara!
Darcy and Elizabeth: Christmas 1811
Sweet,
Austen-inspired treats, perfect with a cup of tea.
Full
of hope and ripe with possibility, Christmastide tales refresh the heart with
optimism and anticipation.
Darcy and Elizabeth: Christmas 1811
Jane
Austen never wrote the details of Christmastide 1811. What might have happened
during those intriguing months?
Following
the Netherfield ball, Darcy persuades Bingley to leave Netherfield Park in
favor of London to avoid the match-making machinations of Mrs. Bennet. Surely,
the distractions of town will help Bingley forget the attractions of Miss Jane
Bennet. But Bingley is not the only one who needs to forget. All Darcy wants
this Christmastide is to forget another Miss Bennet.
Can
the diversions of London help Darcy overcome memories of the fine eyes and pert
opinions of a certain Hertfordshire miss?
Without
the Bingleys, the Bennets are left to the company of Mr. Collins and the militia
officers—entirely suitable company, according Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth disagrees,
refusing an offer of marriage from the very eligible Mr. Collins. Mama’s nerves
suffer horridly until Elizabeth follows her advice to make the most of the
officers’ company.
Even
Mr. Bennet seems to agree. So, whilst Jane pines for Bingley, Elizabeth admits
the attentions of one agreeable Lt. Wickham. What possible harm can it cause,
especially when her parents are so pleased?
The Darcys' First Christmas
Sweet,
Austen-inspired treats, perfect with a cup of tea.
Full
of hope and ripe with possibility, Christmastide tales refresh the heart with
optimism and anticipation.
The
Darcys' First Christmas
Elizabeth
anxiously anticipates her new duties as mistress of Pemberley. Darcy is
confident of her success, but she cannot bring herself to share his optimism.
Unexpected
guests unsettle all her plans and offer her the perfect Christmastide gift,
shattered confidence.
Can
she and Darcy overcome their misunderstandings and salvage their first
Christmastide together?
From
the award winning author of Given Good Principles, Remember the Past and
Mistaking Her Character, Sweet Tea short stories offer the perfect
bite to transport readers back to the Regency era for the first days of new
love.
From Admiration to Love
Sweet,
Austen-inspired treats, perfect with a cup of tea.
Full
of hope and ripe with possibility, Christmastide tales refresh the heart with
optimism and anticipation.
From Admiration to Love
After
the debacle of the previous holiday season, Darcy and Elizabeth joyfully anticipate
Christmastide 1813, Georgiana’s come out at Pemberley’s Twelfth Night Ball
culminating the season. With months of planning behind the event, even Lady
Matlock is satisfied and sends Colonel Fitzwilliam to represent the family,
assuring there will be no repeat of the previous Christmastide.
On
St. Nicholas’, Anne de Bourgh and Lady Catherine arrive on Pemberley’s doorstep—never
a good sign—demanding sanctuary against the de Bourghs who (according the Lady
Catherine) are trying to retake Rosings Park for their family with plans to
seduce and marry Anne. Needless to say, Darcy and Fitzwilliam are skeptical.
Not
long afterwards, three gentlemen suitors appear at Pemberley, hoping to court
Anne and obliging Darcy to offer holiday hospitality. Anne adores the attention
whilst Lady Catherine makes her displeasure know, throwing Pemberley into
turmoil that threatens the Twelfth Night Ball. Can Darcy and Elizabeth, with a
little help from Fitzwilliam, soothe Lady Catherine’s nerves, see Anne to a
respectable match, and still salvage Georgiana’s come out?
From
the award winning author of Given Good Principles, Remember the Past and
Mistaking Her Character, Sweet Tea short stories offer the perfect
bite to transport readers back to the Regency era for the first days of new
love.
About the Author
She
has one husband and one grandson, two graduate degrees and two black belts,
three sons, four undergraduate majors, five nieces, is starting her sixth year
blogging on Random Bits of Fascination, has built seven websites, attended
eight English country dance balls, sewn nine Regency era costumes, and shared
her life with ten cats.
She
can be contacted at:
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