Elizabeth David, 'A Book of Mediterranean Food'

Beginning Elizabeth David's A Book of Mediterranean Food (1950) as I never do, I started by reading the introduction to the text. Normally I pass these by until the end of my reading but I could not help being taking in by David's indulgent language: "The oil, the saffron, the garlic, the pungent local wines; the aromatic perfume of rosemary, wild marjoram and basil drying in the kitchens" all seemed too good to resist. I was shocked by the unashamed assertion of plenty at a time when even flour and eggs were scarce. It is not until we read her introduction to the 1955 edition that we begin to understand David's actions: 

"But even if people could not very often make the dishes here described, it was stimulating to think about them; to escape from the deadly boredom of queuing and the frustration of buying the weekly rations; to read about real food cooked with wine and olive oil."

This fiction of abundance is proliferated as David attempts to recall a lost nostalgia, the smell of the Mediterranean sea air having been replaced by the smogs of London. As much about the fragrances and textures of the Adriatic as the food itself, the reader is led into a labyrinth of long-lost pleasures and unseen delights as David recalls the Edenic beauty of this now distant past. Writing from the (dis)comfort of her one bed flat, David tells her story through food, enjoying the escapism offered by Pigeons à la Romanaise and Terrine de Campagne.

Although I was initially shocked by David's unapologetic tone, writing in a time of such scarcity, it soon became clear that the woman behind this book was never going to make apologies. In 2010, the BBC produced a film which dramatised the life and trials of Elizabeth David and the following is an extract taken from its synopsis:

David's public image was of an elegant, respectable and somewhat austere figure. In reality she was a deeply unconventional person with a profound passion for food, life and men. 

This drama tells the compelling story of the woman behind the persona, the tale of a life-long infatuation with food and a turbulent love life which she kept very private.

At the heart of the drama is the one true love affair of David's life - the affair which she claimed drove her to success as a food writer - and the moment where it all came crashing down. Her misery at losing this great love was so extreme that she suffered a devastating brain haemorrhage. Tragically, one of the legacies of this illness was that David lost the ability to taste salt, making it impossible for her to cook even the simplest recipe.

David was ahead of many women for her time, indulging her fantasies in life as well as in the kitchen and her work seems to reflect this. There is no abashment in her tone and this is what impressed me; she was a woman who knew what she liked and took great pride in admitting that. Even when she writes of a Greek fisherman's lunch, her description oozes sophistication and delicacy as she maintains strict control over her language, giving just enough to tempt the reader without seeming supercilious.

As you can see, I really enjoyed this week's text and hopefully, there will be some more interesting discussion on it tomorrow.


Link to BBC Article: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0074t02


Special thanks to Rachel who directed me to the BBC drama!