Elizabeth Raffald’s 1769 Recipe for ‘Damson Dumplins’

Make a good hot Paste Crust, roll it pretty thin, lay it in a bason, and put in what Quantity of Damsons you think proper, wet the Edge of the Paste, and close it up, boil it in a Cloth one Hour, and send it up whole, pour over it melted butter, and grate sugar round the Edge of the Dish : Note, you make any kind of preserved Fruit the same way.

Elizabeth Raffald, The Experienced English Housekeeper (1769)

I picked a small punnet of damsons the other day, and was wondering whether to stick to good old, tried-and-tested, stew them up and eat them with custard, or to try something a little more adventurous.

Browsing through the classic C18th cookery book The Experienced English Housekeeper, I came across Elizabeth Raffald’s 1769 recipe for ‘Damson Dumplins’ which I thought might have quite a lot of potential. Or at least, it would have if my problems with wheat didn’t mean that a hot paste crust made with gluten free flour is likely to be an ambition too far.

Assuming you’re not similarly afflicted, this looks like a good, hearty, delicious way to enjoy your damson harvest. To the said crust – Elizabeth Raffald offers two versions of a hot paste in the same volume: ‘Crisp Paste for Tarts’ (p.125) and ‘Paste for a Goose Pye’ (p.126) – you add “what Quantity of Damsons you think proper”, which presumably means enough to fill the pastry nicely, whilst still allowing the edges to be folded over and pressed closed. No mention of de-stoning the damsons first, so I guess not. You’ll just have to spit the stones as you eat.

The pastry + damson parcel is then wrapped in a well-floured pudding cloth and boiled – at a simmer, rather than rolling boil, or so I would imagine – and then served forth immediately, with melted butter all over and sugar on the side. Or, if I may be so bold as to suggest a modern alternative, perhaps a generous slosh of good, thick custard? I’ve just about perfected the birds custard powder version over the years, to my taste at least. It’s precisely 18g custard powder and 22g sugar – multiply upwards for larger portion sizes – made into a thick paste with a splash of milk from half a pint, then heat the rest of the milk and pour it onto the custard paste just as it comes to the boil and threatens to escape the pan. Perfect, thick, creamy Birds custard every time.

Back to the recipe, and I have a question: is “dumplins” really the best way to describe this dish? Frankly, I was expecting something closer to the modern, dumpling myself, and the plural in the title suggested there would be more than one of them to serve up at the end. Surely what we have here instead is a ‘damson pudding’, no?

By way of comparison within the same volume, Mrs Raffald provides four other ‘dumplins’ recipes in the same section of the book as this one: ‘apple dumplins’, which are cored apples stuffed with marmalade then wrapped in pastry and boiled in cloth; ‘raspberry dumplins’, which is a sheet of pastry spread with jam, rolled and boiled, i.e. a ‘jam roly-poly’; ‘a sparrow dumplin’, which is, I kid ye not, an actual sparrow, stuffed with seasoned butter, coated in a thick batter, then cloth-wrapped and boiled; and ‘a barm dumplin’, which is a dough made with ale yeast – that’s the barm – and rolled into small balls, that are boiled in little nets to give them a diamond pattern finish, and are served up with a sweet sauce.

Of all of them, the “barm dumplin” version sounds closest to the sort of dumplings you might add to your beef or chicken casserole today, despite the singular in the title. Whereas both the raspberry and the damson “dumplins”, plural, result in one large, boiled pudding. But perhaps, back in the eighteenth century, “dumplin” and “dumplins” was indicative of a cooking method, rather than a serving-size suggestion?

I’ll tell you who probably would know the answer to all of the above, and that would be Dr. Neil Buttery, host of the rather fabulous British Food History Podcast, and author of not only The Philosophy of Puddings (2024) but also Before Mrs Beeton: Elizabeth Raffald, England’s Most Influential Housekeeper (2023). If those credentials don’t cover all the bases then I don’t know what will. Dr. Neil, if you happen to be reading this, and could spare a minute to leave a comment as to your thoughts, that would be very much appreciated. Likewise, any other passing food historians, always most welcome.

Anyhow, what do you – food historian or civilian – think of this particular recipe? Would you be keen to wrap a few dozen damsons in hot-crust pastry and then boil it up? Would you want to de-stone the damsons first, or are you a happy stone-spitter? Would you prefer to serve forth with custard rather than butter and sugar? Or do you have an even better damson-themed serving suggestion? Do please let me know, via the comments.