Throughout most of my life – indeed until quite recently – I have experienced little gut trouble. Over the years, some friends and colleagues have told me of their digestive and internal problems. As I listened to them, I felt extremely relieved that I had not experienced similar complaints. When I think back, the first time I felt really unwell was during pregnancy. I not only suffered from the fairly common morning sickness but I also experienced nausea and some vomiting throughout many days. It was 1942 and I, like so many other people, was worried all the time about the safety of my husband, who was flying in the RAF, and my brother who was at sea. I tried to stay calm and relaxed, as I felt anxiety could only make me feel worse. I had just started work as a food advisor to the Ministry of Food. I held a senior position so had to be efficient and on the ball as I demonstrated ways to make the best use of the relatively limited foods available. I consulted a local doctor, who had never met me before. Although she was sympathetic about my problem, she simply advised me to take sugar in my tea and get as much exercise and fresh air as possible. She gave me an examination and assured me that all was well with the baby.
During the war, doctors were scarce as many younger ones had been drafted into the forces. The doctors left in Britain were very busy, and my problem was a minor one compared to many they had to deal with. The doctor’s advice about sweetened tea, which I hated, was actually the catalyst for my interest in the effects of different ingredients upon certain health conditions. My cravings during this time were for highly flavoured ingredients, such as mustard pickles and peppermint sweets, which were difficult to buy on our sparse sweetmeat ration. The flavour I really appreciated was ginger. How I longed for the stem and crystallized ginger of pre-war days. I used ginger, from the ground spice, as often as I could to flavour puddings, cakes and biscuits. Like all expectant mothers, I was allowed a pint of milk daily, and I often flavoured it with ginger to make it more interesting. I was also the recipient of free cod liver oil and concentrated orange juice. It was summertime, so I could follow the doctor’s advice and enjoy early evening walks.
After my daughter was born in 1943, the sickness disappeared for a while. However, it returned on a few occasions during 1945, and the condition was diagnosed as a ‘grumbling appendix’. This was possibly the reason for the difficulties I had experienced while pregnant. Thankfully, I parted with the appendix later that year and returned to my normal robust health.
By 1945, I was in charge of the Ministry of Food Bureau at Harrods in London. The Food Advisors were qualified home economists who worked throughout Britain. Their role was to help the population make the best use of rations and the limited unrationed ingredients available, and to show people how to prepare enjoyable and nutritious meals. It was not until 1954 that rationing finally ended. The Ministry of Food also employed highly qualified nutritionists and dieticians, and made certain that some of their knowledge was imparted to us. This meant that our demonstrations to the public, and radio talks in my case, incorporated easy-to-follow health information for young and old, as well as suitable recipes.
While at Harrods I extended my interest and knowledge about special diets. At that time the firm employed both a doctor and an experienced nursing sister, both of whom kept watchful eyes on the health of the staff. After my appendix was removed, I had to seek approval to return to work from my own doctor and from the Harrods doctor. If any staff members were on special diets, due to gastric or other medical problems, they had to eat special dishes in a separate part of the staff restaurant, and woe betide them if doctor or sister saw them eating unsuitable meals. I was asked by these two medical experts to provide recipes and suggestions for home cooking for staff members on these special diets. As you can imagine, it was not easy to come up with suitable and inspiring recipes with such limited food resources.
Once I was a recipient of sister’s stern instructions. There was a bad epidemic of what was termed ‘gastric flu’ in and around London and I was one sufferer. I returned to work as soon as possible, still feeling rather delicate. Sister, who had a great interest in cooking and food, came to greet me at the Bureau.
‘You look awful,’ was her welcoming remark.
‘I have felt better,’ I replied.
‘Go to the grocery department and ask them to sell you a can of Heinz tomato soup.
Heat it up and eat it as soon as possible. I know it is scarce but tell them sister says you must have it.’
‘I don’t like it,’ I demurred.
‘I am not interested in whether you like it or not – it is what you must have,’ was the reply.
I obeyed instructions and must confess the soup did me a lot of good. Sister had worked in America and said she had learned of this simple remedy there. Ever since that time, so long ago, I have recommended the soup to a number of people who were experiencing mild gastric disorders and been told that it did make them feel better. I have never discovered why it is effective, but it may have something to do with the sugars and salt in the soup helping the body regain its normal chemical and fluid balance. You will find more information about ‘rehydration’.
The British Medical Association used to publish a magazine for the general public, and I was engaged as the cookery contributor. Subsequently, I wrote two small booklets for them – one about feeding young children and the second on invalid cookery. In each case I had the benefit of specialist medical advice. Later a publisher commissioned Marguerite Patten’s Invalid Cookery Book, which was published in 1955.
I began giving television cookery demonstrations for the BBC in 1947 and continued until the early 1960s. In the 1950s I was asked to present, with a doctor, a short series about special diets and dishes for various illnesses. In the last programme of the series, I prepared a tray of dishes suitable for someone who was convalescing. I stressed the importance of presentation to tempt the appetite, as well as the wise choice of food. At that time, all television was live, so there was no opportunity to retake any part of the programme should something go wrong – and something certainly did go awry on that afternoon. Among the dishes on the tray was a rather splendid jelly. I had used extra gelatine to make the jelly set firmly, as studio lighting was very strong and hot in those days. Sadly, while explaining about the dishes and their nutritional importance, there was a ‘glug-glug’ and my delicious jelly melted and became like a soup, flooding the tray and destroying my elegant meal.
Using extra gelatine is to be avoided in real life. Jellies and other dishes should never be too firm or solid as it takes extra energy to deal with those textures. Someone who is ill, or recovering from an illness, would not be able to cope with such a dish. The recipes in this book have been selected because they look tempting and provide the nutritional needs for various gut ailments. As well as being appetizing, they are easy to eat and digest.
Soon after the outbreak of war, my husband-to-be, Charles Patten, always known as Bob, volunteered for the RAF. He was immediately sent to the Middle East to train as a gunnery officer, after which he took part in operations in that part of the world. One day, the plane in which he was flying crashed. Sadly, there were fatal casualties. Bob was fortunate enough to get out alive and be able to pull injured members of the crew out. He then trekked for 48 hours through the Western Desert and was lucky to meet up with members of the British army. They were able to rescue the rest of the crew. All this happened some time before I met Bob but I learned of the consequences later when he returned to civilian life. In the crash his stomach muscles had been badly strained, and he was not allowed to fly for some time as a result. When we met in Lincolnshire, he was able to return to flying and subsequently carried out many operations.
From time to time, if he was tired or over-strained in any way, he experienced quite