You may have heard about this week’s light-hearted thing – the concept of mince on toast, alleged by an American site, Eater.com, to be a quintessential British comfort food classic, here – Mince on toast.
It’s not, obviously, although it is a New Zealand thing, apparently.
I mean, it sounds OK, especially with some melted cheese, and anything on toast is pretty British to be honest. As is anything to do with mince. But a classic it’s not, or even an actual meal you planned to make, rather than improvised on the spot in a way that you wouldn’t tell anyone else about. We’ve only just got over Delia’s tinned mince too. Still, though, it sounds old-fashioned and a bit wartime and frugal, so maybe it’s inadvertently just the thing for post-Brexit Britain to adopt. And, luckily, here we are, already provided with a recipe fresh from the good old days.
It’s a recipe for invalids – my favourite genre of historical recipe, as the reader of this blog will know.
Obviously, obviously, no invalid recipe section is complete without at least one nauseating dish. May I present Liver Soup:
And just to make this extra topical, given the new Doctor Who announcement tomorrow (Ben Willbond, Ben Willbond, Ben Willbond), there’s fish with custard too:
And here’s the mince on toast we all know and love. Doesn’t sound too bad, if you don’t actually mince the steak, and replace the toast with a nice baguette like the unrepentant Remoaner that I am.
Of course, the obvious serving suggestion is to surround it with boiled rice. Of course.
Oh, I can’t tell you the joy I felt when I saw this book, The Universal Home Doctor, on the shelves of of one of the few charity shops in town which still sells proper vintage books.
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
At first I thought it was a copy of a book I already own and love, the first old book I ever bought, The Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, as the colour, size and bindings are exactly the same. When I looked closer I saw the different title, although it’s still under the “Universal” heading which told me that these two books were part of a series, something I never suspected. I wonder if there were any more books in this set?
Neither book is dated but I have found out the the Hobbies book was published in 1935. The Home Doctor is variously dated as having the first edition published between 1932-36. Therefore I’m going to say that this also dated from 1935, as it would make sense for companion books to be published at the same, or nearly the same, time. Abe Books dates the Home Doctor as being from 1950, but this is very evidently untrue. It’s definitely pre-war, the references, pictures and hairstyles are unmistakeably from the 30s. And there were only two editions, this first one, and a second in 1967 which was a completely different book in many respects, having been updated and changed in appearance.
Here we have 1930s man in (nearly) all his glory.
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
The book consists largely of an encyclopaedia-format of medical problems and it enlightened me as to what Apoplexy actually was – it’s what we now call a Stroke. In addition to the alphabetical reference system, there’s appendices which give more in depth treatment to a number of subjects. There’s a section for new mothers on how to care for babies, and another section on the subject of Beauty.
I can’t resist a vintage beauty tip so this has been my first port of call. I was surprised, however, to see plastic surgery is not only mentioned but talked about as being rather commonly practiced. The most widespread form of this was evidently face lifting. The face lift operation was first performed in 1901, but became more popular over the course of the 1920s. “The only means of contracting a skin which has become too large is to remove parts of it by surgical operation, in which the procedure, to explain simply, is very like that of a dressmaker who “takes in” a dress that is too large for a customer.”
There are direct or indirect methods, either cutting the wrinkled skin out itself, with the skin over the area healing in more stretched manner, or by removing part of the skin at the edge of the face and pulling the skin tighter from there. Always remember to get both sides done though, they “…must always be performed on both sides, to avoid the grotesque effect of one side young and the other old.”
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
It wasn’t just face lifts – the book also mentions other “popular procedures”, including tummy tucks and breast reductions, filling collar bone hollows with fat, ears being pinned back and “little toes removed if the feet are thought too broad.” The latter was also the subject of scandalised reporting a couple of years ago, with women having so-called “stiletto surgery”, cutting off little toes for their feet to fit better in heels. It turns out it was nothing new.
I’d like to know more about the “various other “cosmetic” operations, more remarkable for ingenuity that common sense.” But you also need to be wary as legally “anyone – without any surgical training whatever – can set up as a “Beauty Specialist” and perform such operations under local anaesthesia.” This sounds like something that should definitely have been left in the past, and yet only a few weeks ago I read this, on unregulated cosmetic clinics in Australia, performing plastic surgery without any checks on their training.
Also like today, there are limitations and consequences to consider. “There are, however, two grave objections to the process of “face-lifting”. One is, that the natural expression is removed along with the superfluous skin, and the patient’s face becomes mask-like. A second, and perhaps more serious objection, is that these operations are not permanent in their effects….inevitably the time comes when the over-stretched skin takes its revenge, and the last state of the patient is worse than the first.”
I do love this line –
“It remains for the individual to choose between the necessity of “growing old gracefully” or growing old, as Mr E. F. Benson puts it, in the guise of a “grisly kitten.””
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
Wrinkles are tricky. First and foremost to help avoid their onset you need “a healthy life and contented outlook: worry and bad temper are fatal. It is noteworthy that it is not real troubles, but petty worries and all the nagging trifles of every day that are responsible for premature wrinkling!”
It’s quite right that bad eyesight can cause premature wrinkling, I’ve been slowly getting used to new gas permeable contact lenses for the past couple of months and my creased squint lines have depressingly got much worse in a short space of time as a result. For which I can thank Boots Advanced Protect and Perfect eye cream, which has incredibly restored things right back to normal (I am not being paid for this advert).
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
This is interesting, especially for someone who loathes high heels.
“Uncomfortable clothes are a cause of lines on the face, especially uncomfortable shoes. Women have wisely discarded two instruments of torture, the strangling collar and the squeezing corset, but they seem more reluctant about shoes. The discomfort of too narrow soles and too high heels still produces the frown of pain.”
Yes, this is still a thing. I bet this poor woman has the frown of pain alright.This reminds me of “The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt”, Kimmy having developed “scream lines” from being abducted and forced to live in a bunker for 15 years.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=y23dEyGaGlg
“Plucking the eyebrows seems to be losing its popularity…..brows that are no more than dark lines on the forehead seem to take away all “character” from the face.” Eyebrow fashion – whether it be plucking yourself bald like a chicken, or drawing in thick black beetling brows – remains a mystery to me still.
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
There’s a lot of information about looking after the hair. For a start, who is doing this? “The hair should be well-brushed for five minutes night and morning, preferably in front of an open window, as air is necessary for hair health.”
Hats, in 1935, were all but compulsory. “As regards hats, the best kind for the hair would be none at all except in very brilliant sunshine; but, since one must be worn, it should be light and well-ventilated. The lining should be washed once a week.”
As the owner of an oily scalp, the advice on the frequency of hair washing baffles me. “Roughly, once a week in the town and once a fortnight in the country should be enough.” And oh, the faff of having to make your own shampoo out of melted shredded soap, glycerine and eau-de-cologne. Or olive oil, egg and lemon juice.
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
Be careful about colouring your hair. An experienced hairdresser should bleach it for you as it “in unskilled hands may damage the hair seriously, as well as produce extraordinary effects.”
But hang on, X-rays are suggested as a means of removing superfluous hair. Seriously, X-rays? The book notes that its possible that the treatment may cause damage and changes to the skin, but hopes that “with further research, doctors may hit the happy mean and then this method of depilation will be by far the most satisfactory of the local treatments.” It’s true, it was noticed in the later part of the nineteenth century that X-rays resulted in hair loss and, before the terribly destructive effects of radiation were discovered, this was actually a method used by many women. Until 1946, that is. When the effects of radiation on the surviving inhabitants of Hiroshima and Nagasaki made it quite clear that this wasn’t something to be trifled with. Many women in the meantime had had scarring to the skin, developed cancer and even died from what was later deduced to be radiation damage from X-ray hair removal. It was even given a name – North American Hiroshima maiden syndrome. There’s a fascinating post here about it.
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
How to deal with thin necks, fat necks, thin shoulders, fat shoulders, thin arms and fat arms.
Fat necks should be “patted sharply all over with cotton wool dipped in an astringent lotion; the cleansing lotion recommended for the skin may be used, with the addition of two tablespoons of eau-de-Cologne….home massage should not be tried or the condition will probably be rendered worse.”
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
I’m not entirely sure how this would help, but now I’ve got the Happy Monday’s song “Fat Neck” in my head, and, thanks to my husband, the unfeasibly thick neck of George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher from the band Cannibal Corpse. All the astringent lotion in the world’s not shifting that. George said, “A friend of mine once said, ‘You don’t have a head, you’re a neck with lips.‘”
I’m always interested in the dietary advice from other ages. Here, carbohydrates are recommended as the basic foodstuff which should make up the majority of our diet. The fact it transforms quickly into sugar is a plus here, rather than the cause of the demonization of carbs now.
I’m pretty sure than no one apart from possibly Gwyneth Paltrow is keeping tabs on their daily phosphorus allowance these days. Still, interesting to see that the, sadly neglected, foodstuff treacle is a source of both calcium and iron. Maybe treacle will be the next trendy superfood?
The Universal Home Doctor, 1935
Edit: inspired by Tasker Dunham’s comment below about the other books in this series, I went digging. I found this advert from 1940, beautifully illustrating the series, or, at least, some of them. Daily Herald, 2nd January 1940.
An article highlighting the effects of the smoggy atmosphere in the towns prior to the Clean Air Act of 1956, which was brought in following London’s “Great Smog” over 4 days in December 1952, and which is estimated to have caused the deaths of 4000 people initially, with 8000 more dying in the months following.
However, a lesser-known effect of air pollution, apparently, was greying, smoke-tinted skin. This article from The Portsmouth Evening News in 1935 aimed to help the problem. By bleaching your skin.
Portsmouth Evening News, 23rd March 1935
Beauty Tips
Winter smoke and fog have imperceptibly darkened our complexions by several tones, even through the protective film of vanishing cream and powder we have used.
To restore ourselves to our original dazzling charm, we need an intensive course of bleaching treatment.
Intensive, yes, but very gentle. A good bleaching mask is made by mixing a tablespoonful of honey, a tablespoonful of almond meal, and a teaspoonful of peroxide of hydrogen.
Spread the cream thickly on face and throat, leave for at least a quarter of an hour and wash off with warm milk.
The treatment, given twice a week, will restore smoke-tinted skins.
Most of my assumptions about what visiting time at hospitals used to be like I’ve gleaned from the Carry On films. That, and the 1959 episode of Hancock’s Half Hour I was listening to on the bus earlier, “Hancock in Hospital”, where the lad is kept in for weeks with a broken leg and visiting time lasted for a mere two hours, once a week.
The most I’ve been in hospital was for 3 nights after a cesarean section and that felt like plenty long enough, quite apart from the insane situation of having major surgery, which you recover from by immediately having to look after and feed a newborn all through the night. And in fact I first listened to that Hancock episode while I was in hospital for another operation three years ago, but it turns out morphine injections rather hamper your concentration and I couldn’t remember any of it, so it was nice to listen to it again while I was in sound mind.
Anyway, in short, I don’t really know how visiting time worked for sure. But I have become fascinated by the infectious patient reports in old newspapers. Local newspapers used to print information about such patients, who presumably weren’t allowed visitors at all as a general rule – each patient had a number and their friends and family could consult the paper to check their progress.
So many stories there, reduced to the bare bones of information. I find myself worrying about the dangerously ill patients. Considering the information needed to be with the paper to be printed the day before, did the friends and family find out and get to the hospital in time?
Jean Harlow, tragic blonde bombshell, died only 2 years after this article was printed. In 1937, kidney failure took her at the ridiculously young age of 26. “Jean” was actually her mother’s name, she was born with the very original name of “Harlean”.
Jean Harlow, 1930
This woman knew a strong look when she saw one, and here she is discussing something close to my heart, the joy of wearing black, which looked exceptionally striking against her platinum blonde hair. The intricately-described outfits sound like the most dizzyingly perfect of 1930s creations. This is from The Gloucester Citizen, which also published Katharine Hepburn’s Beauty Tips.
The Gloucester Citizen, 7th May, 1935
“Newer and more original colours may come and go, as fashion predicts, but black, in so far as I am concerned, is always first favourite. There was a time, of course, when blonde-haired girls carefully avoided black for summer and springtime wear. But clever draperies, cool accessories, and diaphanous materials have succeeded in making black look as cool, if not cooler, than its pastel and white competitors.
In fact, cooler – because nothing looks more ungainly to the eye on a hot day or evening than a rumpled, soiled gown that started to a social function or on a shopping jaunt, as fresh as a flower, and will inevitably return “dashed” looking, and with its owner in a “dashed” temper because she knows she is not looking her best.
Here are descriptions of three of my favourite additions to a Springtime wardrobe. The first is that enviable possession – an evening gown. Of sleek, heavyweight crepe de chine, the long, slim skirt flares out at the hem, which is only half an inch from the ground, and ends in a tiny train. The “top” or jacket, which is waist-length and is attached to a stitched belt of its own material, is covered with gleaming paillettes, which look like jet “bugles”, but are actually manufactured from cellophane and are much more durable than bead trimming.
Sleeves are elbow-length and again trimmed with the paillettes. A long, turn-back collar has a daringly low V-shaped décolletage. This creation can be worn with an evening hat, a toque of dull crepe with a design of the paillettes sewn on at one side and decorated with tiny wisps of paradise.
Then for the “little occasion”, there is long, sleek gown on crepe romaine or heavy georgette, over a white satin slip. A bloused effect, rather high-waisted, and with plenty of fullness, has tiny pleats each side. The sleeves are composed of sets of minute pleats drawn into a tight cuff at the elbow, finished with a turn-back fold of white silk pique. A high-cowl collar, with a fold of the white silk pique next to the face (for a youthful look), dwindles away into nothing at the back but a set of crossed-over “braces” of the silk pique. The skirt is long and narrow and affects no fullness until it gets to below the knees, when it frivolously flares out round the feet.
For afternoon wear or a game of bridge comes a gown as austere as a man’s. Fashioned from very fine wool crepe de chine, the whole garment is simply a series of cartridge pleats. A long finely pleated gown from shoulder to bottom hem line, drawn in at the neck line with a silver cord, and at the waist line by a beaten silver belt of Russian design. Voluminous sleeves, cut high on the shoulder line and drawn in at the wrists with tiny silver cords. No jewellery or embellishments but one thin strand of seed pearls around the neck.
Three black thoughts, but elegant ones, I can assure you.”
Cocaine used to be used for all kinds of medicinal uses. In 1935, it was given as a nasal spray to treat asthma by Dr Stanley Rowbotham, who was subsequently sued by his patient for becoming addicted to it. Here’s the article about the court case:
The Yorkshire Post, 5th March, 1935
The court found in favour of the doctor, thinking the patient’s story unlikely. One expert said that “drug addiction is comparatively rare in this country,” which sounds like they were doubting it was possible for him to be addicted at all. With all the strong medication is was possible to get hold of at this time, I’d guess that drug addiction was commoner than they recognised.
Here’s close ups of the article to make it easier to read:
The Yorkshire Post, 5th March, 1935
The Yorkshire Post, 5th March, 1935
Dr Rowbotham was to become a key pioneer in the development of anaesthetics and plastic surgery, operating on facial disfigurements, and given the Bronze star for his work during World War Two.
The patient, Kenneth Rhodes, had a less happy future ahead of him. He didn’t survive the year, apparently shooting himself dead a few months later.
Today – some rather upsetting advice from the 1935 Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts on how to kill unwanted kittens. Your choices are either to drown them in a bucket, or by administering chloroform onto their little kitten faces. Chloroform, you say…….hmmm, perhaps a bit of the old Owbridge’s Lung Tonic might do the trick.
From the matter-of-fact way this is described, it seems to be that as far as they were concerned this was the humane thing to do. One of the cats we had when I was a child was rescued by a family friend who discovered a man with a bag of kittens, preparing to drown them in a river. I bet (hope!) there’s not too much cat-drowning happening now.
“A healthy cat can bring up four kittens, but unless you are deliberately breeding cats, you will only want to keep one or two.”
Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, 1935
Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, 1935
Of course, if a cat accidentally nearly drowns itself, this is the thing to do. You can swing a cat in here apparently.
Smoking in "Keep Fit", Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, 1935
Looking at The Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, it feels like it would be remiss not to have a look at what it says about smoking. After all, it seems like smoking was the Universal Hobby back in the ’30s.
The chapter on “Keeping Fit” is largely in accordance with current thinking apart from pretty high expectations exercise-wise. I daresay there’s a couple of people out there these days not getting the recommended daily amount – “An hour’s hard singles [tennis] is considered by physiologists to represent the minimum amount of daily exercise for the average man.”
But when it comes to smoking, they’re not quite so strict. Smoking “may do no great harm”, although it’s better to “knock off” the fags if you’re an athlete.
Smoking in “Keep Fit”, Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, 1935
Meanwhile, in The Weekend Book, they’re positively in love with tobacco. It’s a cure-all, the joys of which are detailed in a little poem that was very much removed in later editions of the book:
The Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, 1935
Today’s fun is an indoor game for those who own a number of lemons and, trickier, multiple walking sticks. Having tried this myself, I can only concur with the statement “Until you have tried to poke a lemon along in this fashion, you have no idea how unruly a thing it may be.”
The Universal Book of Hobbies and Handicrafts, 1935
“Jogging the Lemon – This is an amusing race game, for which a fairly large room is needed with a clear floor. Any number can take part. Each competitor holds a walking stick, and with the point of this he must jog a lemon up the room and back again. No hitting is allowed. Until you have tried to poke a lemon along in this fashion, you have no idea how unruly a thing it may be.”
