Back from the Brink: Ancient British Ingredients That Belong in Your Kitchen Right Now

Open a medieval British cookery manuscript and you'll encounter a cast of ingredients that reads like a botanical mystery tour. Lovage, verjuice, alexanders, perry, sorrel, meadowsweet — these weren't exotic imports. They were the everyday flavouring agents of British kitchens for centuries, as familiar to cooks of the time as a lemon or a bay leaf is to us now.

Somewhere between the Industrial Revolution and the rise of the supermarket, most of them disappeared. Tastes changed, supply chains simplified, and a generation of home cooks grew up without ever encountering them. But there are signs that the tide is turning. Chefs, foragers, and adventurous home cooks are rediscovering these ingredients — and finding that they bring something genuinely distinctive to contemporary British cooking.

Here's a closer look at some of the most interesting, plus practical guidance on how to get hold of them and actually use them.

Lovage: The Forgotten Celery

If you've never cooked with lovage, you're missing something rather special. This tall, vigorous perennial — easily grown in a British garden — tastes like a more intense, almost yeasty version of celery, with a hint of anise underneath. It was a staple of British kitchen gardens from Roman times through the Tudor period, used in everything from broths to pies.

Today, it's rarely seen in shops, though some specialist herb nurseries and online seed suppliers stock it readily. The good news is that lovage is extraordinarily easy to grow. Plant it once in a reasonably sunny spot and it'll come back year after year with minimal fuss — a genuinely low-maintenance kitchen garden plant.

How to use it: Add young lovage leaves to a chicken or vegetable stock for extraordinary depth. Chop it finely into potato salad in place of celery. The seeds, dried, work beautifully in bread or sprinkled over roasted root vegetables. A small handful of leaves also lifts a Bloody Mary in a way that shop-bought celery salt simply can't match.

Verjuice: Britain's Answer to the Lemon

Verjuice — the pressed juice of unripe grapes or crab apples — was the go-to souring agent in British cookery long before lemons became widely available. Sharp, fruity, and considerably more complex than plain vinegar, it was used in sauces, marinades, and dressings from the medieval period right through to the 18th century.

It largely vanished when cheap citrus became the norm, but it's been making a quiet comeback through specialist food retailers and some farm shops. Australian producers led the modern revival internationally, but British versions — often made from crab apples — are now available from a handful of artisan producers.

How to use it: Deglaze a pan after cooking pork or chicken with a splash of verjuice for a sauce that's bright without being aggressively acidic. It's also excellent in salad dressings, particularly alongside English mustard and a good rapeseed oil. Try it in place of white wine in a beurre blanc — the result is rounder and more interesting.

Sorrel: The Sharp Green Worth Growing

Sorrel is one of those ingredients that, once you've tasted it, makes you wonder why it's not in every garden. The leaves have a vivid, lemony sharpness that's unlike anything else — a natural acidity that comes from oxalic acid rather than citrus, and which holds up surprisingly well to gentle cooking.

It was once a common vegetable in British kitchen gardens, used in soups, sauces, and as a pot herb. Now it's largely confined to French cuisine in popular consciousness, which is a shame given how naturally it grows in the British climate.

Sorrel is simple to grow from seed or plug plants (widely available from garden centres in spring) and will self-seed readily once established. Some farmers' market stalls and specialist greengrocers stock it in season.

How to use it: A classic sorrel sauce — simply wilted leaves stirred into a little cream or crème fraîche — is one of the finest things you can serve alongside salmon or smoked mackerel. Stir it into a potato soup just before serving for a vivid, tangy finish. Young leaves also work well raw in salads where you'd normally use rocket.

Perry: Cider's Underappreciated Cousin

Made from fermented pear juice rather than apple, perry has been produced in the UK — particularly in Herefordshire, Worcestershire, and Gloucestershire — for at least a thousand years. Traditional perry, made from specific old perry pear varieties rather than eating pears, is complex, often tannic, and quite unlike the artificially sweetened "pear cider" that occupies supermarket shelves.

Real perry fell into serious decline during the 20th century as many of the ancient perry pear orchards were grubbed up. But a committed group of producers in the Three Counties region has been reviving traditional varieties and methods, and genuine perry is now available through specialist drinks retailers, farm shops, and direct from producers.

How to use it in cooking: Perry works beautifully as a braising liquid for pork — particularly belly or shoulder — adding a gentle fruitiness that complements the richness of the meat. It also makes an excellent base for a sauce to serve with blue cheese, or a light jelly to accompany cold cuts.

Meadowsweet: Floral and Forgotten

Meadowsweet is a wild plant found across damp British meadows and riverbanks, with creamy, frothy flowers that smell of almonds and honey. It was used historically to flavour mead, ale, and cordials, and its dried flowers were strewn across floors for their scent — a practice that tells you something about how pleasant it smells.

As a culinary ingredient, it's enjoying a small but genuine revival among foragers and experimental cooks. The flowers can be infused into cream, milk, or sugar syrups to produce a flavour that's delicate, floral, and distinctly British in character.

How to use it: Infuse dried meadowsweet flowers into warm double cream, then use that cream to make a panna cotta or ice cream. The flavour is subtle but unmistakable — a little like elderflower but earthier and less sweet. A meadowsweet syrup stirred into sparkling water makes a beautifully old-fashioned British soft drink.

Where to Start

You don't need to overhaul your kitchen to explore these ingredients. Start with one — sorrel seeds from a garden centre, a bottle of verjuice from a specialist food retailer, or a packet of lovage from an online herb supplier — and cook with it a few times before moving on to the next. These flavours reward a little familiarity.

British food history is rich with ingredients that deserve better than obscurity. Bringing even a couple of them back into regular rotation is a small act of culinary recovery — and, more to the point, a genuinely delicious one.