The Compleat Cook: Expertly Prescribing the Most Ready Wayes, Whether Italian

In Short

Published in 1658 as part of a larger household volume, The Compleat Cook is a foundational English culinary manual attributed to the initials W. M. Designed as an instructional guide for wealthy households, the book compiles dozens of specialized receipts for meat, fish, pastry, creams, and preserves, drawing inspiration from French, Spanish, and Italian traditions. It reflects the aristocratic palate of Interregnum England, where medieval spices like mace and nutmeg met continental techniques, rich broths, and elaborate confections. It survives today as an indispensable historical window into early modern domestic life, dining habits, and culinary craftsmanship.

The Story

The Compleat Cook opens with rich, warming potations and grand showpieces meant to establish the sophistication of a gentleman's table. It begins with delicate possets—warm milk curdled with ale or sack wine and scented with nutmeg—and elaborate centerpiece roasts such as capons larded with preserved lemons, or red deer baked deep in spiced pasty dough and soaked in sweetened wine. These early entries set a standard of opulent hospitality, where abundant butter, dried fruits, and imported spices define the high-status domestic kitchen.

As the text progresses, it transitions from grand roasts and pastries into delicate dairy creams, sweetmeats, and preserved goods. The author introduces intricate techniques for handling milk and sugar, instructing the cook on how to drop fresh milk from a height to create tough, bubbly "Spanish Cream," or how to infuse cream with rosewater, codlings, and ambergris. Alongside these delicate dishes lie practical recipes for long-term household provision: brewing strong malt-and-rye vinegars aged in the summer sun, pickling oysters in Caper barrels to keep for six weeks, and curing tongues with bay salt and saltpeter.

Midway through, the focus broadens to incorporate international flavors and unusual cross-regional adaptations. The reader encounters the "Tamara" spice mixture—a northern Italian blend of coriander, aniseed, fennel, cloves, and cinnamon used to marinate tender fillets of veal—and exotic curiosities like a minced "Persian Dish" of spiced mutton patties, or "Virginia Trout" made from salted herrings steeped in claret. Vegetable and fish preparations demand meticulous care, from boiling artichoke bottoms in broth and sack to larding soles with strips of fresh salmon before frying them in fine ale.

In its final movement, the book emphasizes savory hashes, farmyard economy, and substantial baked goods. Instructions range from fattening poultry in four days with wheat-flour rolls to preparing rich mutton hashes loaded with anchovies, capers, and egg-thickened sauces. The culinary section concludes with rustic, large-scale receipts like rice pancakes made with twenty eggs, and sharp mead brewed from back-garden herbs. Following the last recipe, the text concludes with a publisher's backlist cataloging contemporary sermons, occult treatises, herbals, and medical books, framing this culinary manual within the wider literary marketplace of seventeenth-century London.

How It Unfolds

The feast is set The manual begins with luxurious, spiced dishes intended for formal dining, featuring sack-laced possets, lemon-larded capons, and deep-dish venison pies steeped in sweet Hippocras wine and butter.

Mastering the dairy and pantry The focus shifts to delicate egg-and-cream sweetmeats, fresh cheeses, and long-term pantry preservation, offering precise methods for making clouted cream, almond jumballs, pickled oysters, and sun-cured elder vinegar.

Exotic imports and regional styles The author introduces continental techniques and foreign-inspired novelties, ranging from Italian spice rubs and wine-marinated veal to herring-larded pike, Persian mutton cakes, and savory artichokes stewed in marrow and cream.

Savory meals and household economy The final recipes outline robust savory dishes and practical domestic tricks, detailing how to hash mutton with anchovies and capers, fat chickens in four days, and brew herb-rich metheglin.

The printer's trade catalog The book concludes with a lengthy, published catalog of mid-seventeenth-century books, placing the cookbook alongside astrological defenses, Puritan sermons, medical herbals, and theatrical comedies.

The People

Because The Compleat Cook is an early instructional manual rather than a narrative work, its central figures are the historical personages, domestic figures, and symbolic diners implied throughout the text:

• The Cook (W. M.): The authoritative voice behind the text, who desires to instruct householders in the most polished culinary methods. Unhindered by raw ingredients, W. M. transforms ordinary meats and grains into grand banquets through precise boiling, larding, and spicing, ending as a master practitioner of early English cuisine.
• The Earl of Arundel: An aristocrat whose named posset receipt represents the refined tastes of the nobility. He seeks luxury and comfort in rich, spiced cream drinks, setting a cultural standard that domestic cooks strive to emulate.
• Master Rudstone and Mrs. Duke: Named contributors whose personal receipts for possets and cakes reflect the shared, community-driven nature of seventeenth-century culinary preservation and domestic pride.
• The English Gentry: The prospective readers and diners who desire a table reflecting status, hospitality, and cosmopolitan taste. They navigate complex recipes requiring expensive ingredients like rosewater, ambergris, and imported spices, ultimately achieving social distinction through lavish entertainment.

In Its Own Voice

"Take a quart of Creame, and a quarter of a Nutmeg in it, then put it on the fire, and let it boyl a little while..."

This instruction opens the book's signature recipe for the Earl of Arundel's posset, demonstrating the simple, direct approach to rich dairy preparations.

"...strew upon it a powder that is called Tamara in Italy, and so much Salt as will season it well, mingle the Powder well upon the Pasts of your meat..."

Here, the manual guides the cook through an exotic Italian marinade, highlighting the book's continental ambitions.

"...you must set your Pan on the ground and stand on a stool, and pour it forth that it may rise in bubbles with the fall..."

This vivid physical instruction for making Spanish cream reveals the hands-on, practical showmanship required in early modern kitchens.

What It's Really About

The Compleat Cook is fundamentally about status, domestic mastery, and the preservation of wealth through culinary art. Beneath its straightforward instructions lies an argument that English cooking should absorb the culinary sophistication of France, Spain, and Italy without losing its native taste for hearty roasts, pies, and rich creams. The text grapples with the challenge of seasonal availability and food spoilage, offering meticulous instructions on salting, pickling, and potting to extend the lifespan of costly meats and seafood. It also reflects the early modern fascination with rare ingredients—such as ambergris, rosewater, and exotic spice blends—showing how the domestic kitchen served as a stage for displaying international trade networks, domestic order, and refined social standing.

Why Read It Today

The Compleat Cook offers an intoxicating, sensory passport into the domestic life of the seventeenth century. Reading it feels like stepping directly into a bustling, charcoal-scented manor kitchen, where the air is heavy with the aromas of boiling mace, toasted almonds, and sweet ale yeast. Food historians, historical reenactors, and modern culinary enthusiasts will delight in its vivid details, from the process of whipping cream with a feather to the strange logic of turning a fat pig into a "lamb" through clever butchery and trussing.

Modern readers must navigate archaic spelling, vague measurement standards (such as a "piece of sweet Butter as big as a Wall-nut"), and period attitudes toward animal preparation—including direct instructions for cramming poultry or roasting meat in fresh blood. Furthermore, the absence of modern oven temperatures or exact cooking times requires a imaginative leap to visualize the finished dishes. Yet, for those fascinated by the evolution of Western dining, the book remains a charming, deeply authentic record of how our ancestors transformed raw nature into artful culinary celebration.