Food writers such as Dr Annie Gray, Regula Ysewijn, and Frances Bissell have also paid tribute to Acton with their contemporary takes on Acton’s recipes.Īcton’s Modern Cookery for Private Families changed the rules on what and who cookery books were for. Acton’s admirers include Delia Smith, who called Acton “ the best writer of recipes in the English language,” Elizabeth David, who wrote the introduction to The Best of Eliza Acton: Recipes from her classic Modern Cookery for Private Families, published in 1968, and Jane Grigson, who has paid tribute to Acton in her own cookbooks. The book is being made into a television miniseries by CBS in the US by Stampede Ventures, which will give Acton and her work some well-deserved limelight.Įliza Acton’s name may not be as widely known as some of her rivals, such as Mrs Beeton, but in the food writing world she has real cachet. Her third novel, published as Miss Eliza’s English Kitchen in the US and The Language of Food in the UK (out on February 3) tells the story of Eliza Acton, who wrote the ground-breaking Victorian cookbook Modern Cookery for Private Families, published in 1845 and available in full on ckbk.Ībbs’s novel explores the creativity and joy of cooking and aims to bring Acton out of the archives and back into the public eye. I love thee as I love the swell, And hush, of some low strain, Which bringeth, by its gentle spell, The past to life again.British author Annabel Abbs is a leading writer of biographical historical fiction. I love thee, as the glad bird loves The freedom of its wing, On which delightedly it moves In wildest wandering.

I love thee, as I love the full, Clear gushings of the song, Which lonely-sad-and beautiful- At night-fall floats along, Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet The hours of rest and dew When melody and moonlight meet To blend their charm, and hue. I love thee as I love the first Young violet of the spring Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd, To scented blossoming. I love thee as I love the tone Of some soft-breathing flute Whose soul is wak'd for me alone, When all beside is mute. I love thee, as I love the last Rich smile of fading day, Which lingereth, like the look we cast, On rapture pass'd away. I love thee, as I love the calm Of sweet, star-lighted hours! I love thee, as I love the balm Of early jes'mine flow'rs.

Love in the Snow by Acton Liz