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Regency cooking: syllabub

  • Writer: Heather Moll
    Heather Moll
  • 2 hours ago
  • 2 min read

I returned to the Jane Austen Cookbook to make that well-known dessert favorite syllabub. Or, at least well known if you’re a Georgian-era super fan.


Syllabub is mix of alcohol and dairy, and sugar, depending on how sweet your alcohol is. Variations of this English dessert go back to the 16th century. There’s a mention in a 1537 play ‘A New Interlude Called Thersites’, which states: “You and I… Muste walke to him and eate a solybubbe.”

Jane Austen Cookbook, package of powdered sugar, package of cane sugar, container of whipping cream, white wine bottle

The word syllabub possibly comes from Sille, an area in the Champagne region of France, and bub, an Elizabethan slang meaning a bubbling drink, hence Sille bub—wine mixed with a frothy cream. It seems to have been a special occasion treat, something served at things like supper at a ball, at Vauxhall, an evening party.


After tasting it, I can imagine it being popular while feeling overheated during a night of dancing. But it’s also neither challenging to make nor expensive, so maybe if Jane Austen wanted a syllabub for a casual night at home, she, Cassandra, and Martha had syllabub for fun?

Solid Syllabubs Mix a quart of thick rare cream, one pound of refined sugar, a pint and a half of fine raisin wine in a deep pan, put to it the grated peel and the juice of three lemons. Beat, or whisk it one way half an hour, then put it on a sieve with a bit of thin mustard laid smooth in the shallow end till next day. Put in glasses. It will keep good, in a cool place, ten days. (M.R. 1806 edn, page 204.)

I definitely did the adapted/modernized version of the recipe included in the cookbook. I didn't need to satiate a ballroom full of party guests.


I recruited my teen helper to participate, but he was reluctant since there was no chocolate in sight. A promise of a lot of sugar led to some curiosity that turned to horror when he saw the wine bottle. Since it would not be cooked off, he’s not trying this one, but he wouldn’t have wanted to. Still, he zested the lemon for me and operated the mixer.


If my helper hadn’t been turned off by the wine, the addition of dry mustard would have made it clear he wouldn't be my taste tester. I forgot to include it in that original picture of the assembled ingredients. Who can blame me?


“Why is there mustard in a dessert??” cried my helper. I guess its supposed to add a little zing? But the lemon juice and wine did that too, so I’m not sure.


It’s a simple recipe, especially since I have a KitchenAid stand mixer. Otherwise, I’d need an army of kitchen maids to take turns whipping this so it was ready for the ball.


I didn’t get the best pictures of the final product. My AC was out the day I made it so there was a lot of condensation. Plus, I’m not photographer.


tall glass with handle filled with syllabub topped with lemon rind and sugar on a brown table with a spoon also covered in syllabub.

There are many variations of this recipe from over the centuries and it could be eaten with a spoon or sipped as a drink, depending on how you made it. Mine had a firm enough consistency that you needed a spoon. It tasted a little like a thin, boozy milkshake. It was actually really refreshing. I would make it again, but no one else in my house would eat it, and I don't need to eat 4-6 syllabubs before they go bad.


Will you include this in your late night suppers? Should I make a dessert, a dinner, a sidedish, or a bread next time?



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