Amphibian Intrigue: A History of Toad in the Hole
How the cruel jagged edges of the Industrial Revolution hastened the popularity of a batter pudding that has since secured its place at the heart of British comfort cooking.
Who put the ‘toad’ in ‘toad in the hole’? It is a little queer as far as food names go. For us Brits, it’s a casual everyday supper we make in the colder months when we want something quick, easy, and filling, but it is easy to understand how those outside of the UK may look askance at our supposed love for cooking up amphibians. We don’t, I promise you.
Instead, what you have is a Yorkshire pudding punctuated by beautifully bronzed sausages, baked in the oven until the sausages glisten and the batter rises to an almost ridiculously billowing mass. Delicious, I must add, especially when served with a gigantic dollop of mashed potato and a swimming pool-sized volume of onion gravy.
It is said that the look of the sausages, nestled in the batter pudding, gives the dish its name, as toads are similarly seen in the wild peeking out from crevices. I can’t say I’ve ever noticed such animal behaviour, but I’m willing to believe it without observation. I’m ashamed to say their sudden jumpy movements freak me out a little, so I shall stick to their porky facsimiles in the kitchen. There is also a far more outlandish story surrounding its etymology that bears no evidence whatsoever. In the quaint Northumbrian coastal village of Alnmouth, a golf tournament in the 18th century is said to have taken place, during which a toad pushed a golfer’s ball out of the 18th hole, thereby forfeiting his win. Laughter and consternation abounded, leading humorously to the creation of a batter pudding to mark the occasion. An unlikely tale, but very fun nonetheless.
In terms of tangible history, the first appearance of ‘toad in the hole’ in the English lexicon comes from 1787, in a book written by Francis Grose called ‘A Provincial Glossary’, but the first mention of a ‘meat in the hole’ dish comes from Hannah Glasse’s 1747 classic ‘The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy’, with a pigeon variant. It’s no surprise that a cheap and cheerful dish like toad in the hole found mainstream popularity towards the latter end of the 18th century - rapid industrialisation had brought with it a great deal of urban poverty, so families needed to eke out the little expensive meat they had with other things like batter. In line with this frugality, ordering a ‘toad in the hole’ did not at the time guarantee you a banger - instead, many types of meat, cheaper than sausages, were cooked up in a savoury crust, including game birds and bits of offal such as kidneys. The earliest ‘toad in the hole’ recipe we have that resembles the one we hold so dearly today comes from the doyenne of Victorian cookery, Mrs Beeton, and features in her classic tome, ‘Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management.’
With such simple ingredients, there is nowhere to hide with a ‘toad in the hole.’ A badly made one can be seen from space, and I have to admit I have tasted quite a few that fall short of crispy, batter-bound heaven. The worst offence is flabby sogginess; not having the oven temperature high enough and not letting the oil heat up sufficiently before adding the batter to the baking dish results usually causes such disappointment. Another misdemeanour I have come across is the undercooking of the sausages - you need to brown the sausages plenty before adding the batter, otherwise, you risk an army of offputtingly anaemic toads.
INGREDIENTS (SERVES 4)
Rapeseed oil
6 thick pork sausages, or 12 chipolatas
150g plain flour
2 eggs
175ml milk
Sea salt
White pepper
METHOD
Preheat the oven to 220C/Gas 7. Place the sausages in a roasting tin with a little oil and bake for 15 minutes until they are browned and the oil is hot.
Make the batter in a large bowl by combining the flour, eggs, milk, seasoning, and a splash of water with a whisk until a smooth batter forms. You want a batter that resembles the consistency of single cream.
Pour the batter around the sausages in the tin and return to the oven for 20-25 minutes until puffed up and brown.
FOODIE PHRASE DU JOUR:
‘‘I love a Yorkshire pudding. It's basically pancake batter that's fried in beef fat and puffs up; it's like you can't go wrong.’’
- Samin Nosrat
Who else is a massive fan of toad in the hole?
Big fan of toad in the whole; I already love the combo of sausages, mash + gravy, who can complain at the addition of Yorkshire pudding!? Not too sure on the idea of liver in the hole though 🫣