Rakewell shed a salty tear this week for the death of Gentleman’s Relish, the spiced anchovy paste that, after almost 200 years of production, has been discontinued. AB Foods, who since 2001 has made the condiment, announced earlier this week that, ‘while we recognise that this Victorian relish has a niche and loyal following, it sadly does not have wider commercial appeal and, despite our best efforts, retailer distribution has dwindled.’
Gentleman’s Relish – which is, to understate things, an acquired taste – has come to symbolise a very particular kind of Englishness. Most commonly spread on hot buttered toast, the salty, fishy condiment is a product that has united bastions of British culture as diffuse as Nigella Lawson, who named it as one of 10 foods she couldn’t live without; English Heritage, which has a partnership with the snack purveyor Made for Drink to manufacture a line of Gentleman’s Relish-flavoured crisps; and Ronnie Barker, who wrote a book called Gentleman’s Relish in 1983, a compendium of only faintly salty seaside pictures accompanied by Carry On-style jokes (the V&A East Storehouse in Stratford has a magnificent promotional poster for the book in its archives). Jessica Mitford chose it as her luxury item when she appeared on Desert Island Discs in 1977, while Evelyn Waugh and Ian Fleming are among the writers to have named the condiment in their novels. There is even something stereotypically English about the self-deprecating warning printed on the side of the packaging: ‘Use very sparingly.’ And, like many things that the English take pride in and take the credit for, it is, in fact, not entirely English at all: invented and first produced in Paris by a grocer named John Osborn, the paste made a splash at the Paris Food Shows in the 1840s and ’50s, was originally made with used Spanish anchovies, has a faux-Latin nonsense name (Patum Peperium) and, since 2017, has been manufactured in Poland.
Whether you like the stuff depends on your tolerance for anchovies. But we can surely all lament the death of Gentleman’s Relish as a design icon. With its trademark white pot, the black and white Victorian lettering and even its simple, classic logo of two anchovies stacked on top of the other, Gentleman’s Relish has had essentially the same look since the 19th century – though Rakewell wonders whether its demise started when the manufacturer gave up its elegant ceramic pots for plastic ones. As Marmite, or indeed Chanel – whose signature perfume bottle has been remarkably consistent and was of course the subject of several Andy Warhol prints – understand so well, there is no need to change something that is perfect as it is.
For those who wish to carry on enjoying Gentleman’s Relish – or indeed any uninitiated who has never tasted it and now can’t – there are solutions. Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, the restaurant that is currently ‘leaning in’ to its reputation as something of a haven for London’s artists, already makes its own version and will continue to feature it on their menu. Jeremy King, the art collector and brains behind Simpson’s, has modestly confessed that he prefers his restaurant’s version. Fortnum and Mason, too, sells a spiced anchovy paste that comes in a ceramic eau de nil pot, furnished with the same Victorian-style lettering as the real stuff. Though at £27.07 for a 100g portion, readers may well be better off just making their own. There are countless recipes available online – though all with a slightly different blend of spices, given that the official recipe is said to be a closely guarded secret that, for a time, was known by only one employee of Elsingham Quality Foods, its former producer. Rakewell would like to announce that any readers who manage to provide your correspondent with an authentic recipe for the condiment will be rewarded handsomely. Go forth, home cooks, and use very sparingly.
