IN the annals of the East India Company, one innovation has surely been as important as the bungalow or pyjamas. Punch the drink—as opposed to the magazine, which is not nearly as old—was brought over from India almost 400 years ago. There is, however, a connection between the drink and the journal. When it was established in 1841, a punning reference was made to the first editor, Mark Lemon: ‘Punch is nothing without the lemon.’
Lemons are, indeed, essential to punch in most of its forms. The name is taken from the Hindi panj, which means five—as in Punjab (Five Rivers)—and there are supposed to be five key ingredients. Charles Dickens, who took the beverage very seriously, kept it classic with his: lemons, demerara sugar, rum, cognac and boiling water. He was also partial to a sprinkling of spices, in particular nutmeg, which he carried with him in a silver box.
Today, punch can be a somewhat insipid, glorified fruit juice—or it can be the ice breaker at university freshers’ events. The quantities on offer may be reminiscent of the 18th century, but, at that time, it was the domain of men only. Ladies, being more refined, drank tea. The two worlds rarely came together, except in the ceramic oddity called a punch pot—an oversized teapot designed for alcohol. Meanwhile, punch bowls sometimes bore inscriptions such as ‘Drink fair, don’t swear’ and ‘Fill up the Bowl/ Let not our Wife us Control.’
Denne historien er fra November 27, 2024-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra November 27, 2024-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
