Yorkshire Pudding: The Original Georgian Recipe From 1747

Picture a Yorkshire farmhouse kitchen in the 1750s. A joint of beef turns slowly on an iron spit over the hearth, fat dripping into a black metal pan set below. The cook pours a thin pale batter straight into that sizzling fat, and within minutes it has climbed the sides of the pan in golden ribbons, catching every drop of beef flavor as the joint turns above.

That pan of batter was the original Yorkshire pudding. Not a side dish. A clever piece of economy that turned the waste fat of a Sunday roast into a filling first course to stretch expensive meat across a household of seven.

The recipe has barely changed in 280 years. Flour, eggs, milk, salt, and a very hot pan of dripping. What changed is the oven, not the batter.

Here is the traditional Yorkshire method, followed as closely as a modern kitchen allows, with Hannah Glasse’s 1747 version laid out alongside.

Where the Pudding Came From

Yorkshire cooks had been making a version of this pudding for generations before anyone wrote it down. The first printed recipe appeared in Hannah Glasse’s 1747 The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy, under the name “Yorkshire pudding.”

Her method was simple. Beat eggs into flour and milk, pour the batter into the dripping pan under the spit, and bake until brown. Serve before the meat, with gravy, and sometimes with sugar.

That serving order mattered. A Yorkshire household in Hannah Glasse’s time could not always afford a large joint, so the pudding filled everyone up first and made the beef go further. “Fill them up on pudding, then the meat serves more hands.”

By Mrs. Beeton’s 1861 Book of Household Management, the pudding had moved to the second half of the meal, served alongside the beef rather than before it. Cast iron cooking ranges had replaced the open hearth, beef had grown more affordable, and the practical reason for a first-course pudding had faded. The pudding stayed. It had earned a permanent place on the Sunday plate.

Industrial beef dripping, coal-fired ovens, and Sunday roast culture locked the pudding into British national identity through the Victorian era and into the 20th century. Wartime Ministry of Food leaflets included a reconstituted-egg version during the 1940s, adapted for rationing but keeping the same method. For the full context of how British kitchens adapted to those constraints, see what families actually ate on wartime rations in the UK.

What Makes a Real Yorkshire Pudding Rise

Three things. The oven heat, the fat heat, and the batter consistency. Hannah Glasse understood all three in 1747 without needing to know the chemistry.

Water in the batter flashes to steam the moment it touches the smoking fat. That steam inflates the batter before the outer shell has time to set. If the fat is not visibly smoking when the batter hits it, the steam cannot form fast enough and the pudding stays flat.

The oven must hold above 425 F (220 C) for the whole bake. A single blast of cool air from opening the oven door sinks the pudding in seconds. Georgian cooks did not have this problem because the pudding baked in the hearth’s direct heat with nothing to open.

The batter consistency is the third variable. It should pour like heavy cream, thin enough to flow across the pan, thick enough to climb the walls as it sets. The traditional Yorkshire rule was to weigh the eggs in their shells, use the same weight of flour, and the same volume of milk. That ratio has survived every kitchen update since the 1700s.

Ingredients

• 140 g (1 cup) plain all-purpose flour
• 4 large eggs
• 200 ml (3/4 cup + 2 tablespoons) whole milk
• 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
• 4 tablespoons beef dripping (ideally saved from a previous roast), or lard, or oil

Beef dripping is the authentic fat. Every Yorkshire household kept a crock of it beside the hearth, scraped from the bottom of the roasting pan after Sunday dinner. A properly stocked larder still carried a jar of dripping through most of the 20th century, until sunflower oil pushed it aside in the 1970s.

For more on how pre-industrial kitchens stored and reused fat, the old recipe ingredient glossary has full entries on dripping, lard, tallow, and suet.

Instructions

Step 1: Mix and Rest the Batter

In a large bowl, whisk the flour and salt. Make a well in the middle and crack in the eggs. Beat them into the flour until you get a thick smooth paste, then whisk in the milk a splash at a time until the batter is pourable and lump-free.

Strain it through a fine sieve into a jug if you want silk-smooth results. Cover and rest for at least 30 minutes at room temperature, or up to 12 hours in the larder (or fridge).

The rest is essential. It lets the flour hydrate fully and the gluten relax, which Yorkshire cooks worked out long before the chemistry was understood. An old household cook might mix the batter in the morning and leave it in a covered crock until the joint was nearly done turning in the afternoon.

Step 2: Heat the Fat Until It Smokes

Set the oven to 450 F (230 C). Place a 12-cup metal muffin tin or a 9 by 13 inch metal roasting pan on the middle shelf, with 1 teaspoon of beef dripping in each muffin well, or 4 tablespoons across the roasting pan.

Leave the tin in the oven for a full 15 minutes. The fat must be visibly smoking before the batter goes in. This is the step modern cooks tend to rush. The Georgian cook had an easier time of it; the dripping pan under a spit-roasting joint was already hot all afternoon.

Step 3: Pour the Batter Quickly

Take the tin out. Give the rested batter a final whisk and pour fast into the sizzling fat. Fill each well two-thirds full, or pour the whole batch into the roasting pan.

The batter should hiss loudly as it hits the fat. If it does not, the fat is not hot enough and the pudding will fail.

Return the tin to the oven within 10 seconds. Lose as little heat as possible.

Step 4: Bake Without Opening the Door

Bake the muffin-size puddings for 18 to 22 minutes. A large single pudding in a roasting pan needs 25 to 30 minutes. They are done when tall, golden, and crisp at the edges, with a hollow in the middle where the batter pulled away from the walls.

Do not open the oven door before 20 minutes have passed. Every peek loses 25 F and the puddings sink.

Step 5: Serve Straight Away

Yorkshire puddings deflate within five minutes of coming out of the oven. That is why they were always served immediately, carried to the table on the hot tin in Georgian households, the cook unceremoniously passing plates around the joint.

Pour gravy into the hollow centers. The pudding is meant to soak it up.

How Hannah Glasse Would Have Done It

In her 1747 kitchen, the batter went straight into the metal dripping pan beneath a spit-roasting joint of beef. The pan was already hot from an afternoon of catching fat, and the joint above basted the pudding as it turned.

Once the pudding had baked golden on top, the cook slid the pan out, cut the pudding into wedges, and served them with gravy before the meat course. The household ate the filling part first while the cook carved the joint.

To approximate the original method today, use a large metal roasting pan rather than individual wells, and serve the whole pudding cut into generous squares before (or alongside) the beef. The shape and texture come out closest to the Georgian original that way.

Tips From the Old Kitchen

• Rest the batter. An hour on the counter beats 10 minutes in the fridge. Overnight is better still. Every Yorkshire cookbook printed before 1960 insisted on it.
• Save your dripping. A jar of fat skimmed from last Sunday’s roast holds in the fridge for three months and gives the pudding a flavor that vegetable oil cannot touch.
• Smoking fat is non-negotiable. If the fat is not smoking when you pour, wait another three minutes. Hannah Glasse assumed smoking fat because her dripping pan was already there.
• Do not stir the batter in the tin. Pour and bake. The moment the batter hits the fat, the pudding is already rising.
• Use metal, not ceramic or glass. Metal conducts fast enough to keep the pudding rising through the first two minutes.

Serving Traditions Across the Eras

In the 18th century, Yorkshire pudding was a first course. In the Victorian era, it moved alongside the beef. By the 20th century, it was the undisputed partner of a Sunday roast, shared across Britain, not only the north.

The version served before the meat with gravy is still the most economical way to present it. Try it once as a starter course with onion gravy, and the Georgian logic will make sense. The meat at the end will taste like a reward.

Toad in the hole is the savory descendant. Sausages browned in the hot fat, batter poured on top, baked as one large pudding in a roasting tin. The name comes from mid-19th century Yorkshire slang for a dish where the sausages sit buried in the batter like toads in mud.

Leftover cold puddings the next morning got split and filled with jam or golden syrup in northern households. That habit is the last ghost of Hannah Glasse’s sweet first-course version, which sometimes called for sugar or candied peel in the batter.

Variations Across Three Centuries

• Hannah Glasse 1747: One large pudding, baked in the drip pan beneath a spit-roasted joint. Served with gravy (and sometimes sugar) before the meat.
• Mrs. Beeton 1861: Baked in a flat iron dish, cut into squares, served with the roast.
• Wartime 1942: Dried egg powder replaced fresh. The rise is flatter but the flavor is authentic Ministry of Food.
• Toad in the hole: Sausages browned first, batter poured over, baked as one large pudding.
• Herb pudding: Thyme or rosemary whisked into the batter. Victorian households did this on holidays.
• Cheese and mustard: 1 tablespoon English mustard plus 50 g sharp cheddar stirred into the rested batter. A 20th-century household addition.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why did my Yorkshire pudding not rise?

Almost always heat. The oven was not hot enough when the batter went in, or the fat was not yet smoking. Preheat the fat for the full 15 minutes and do not rush it. Georgian cooks would have let the dripping pan sit for an hour or more; 15 minutes is the minimum a modern oven needs.

How old is the recipe?

The first printed version is Hannah Glasse, 1747. The pudding itself was being made in Yorkshire households well before that, probably for a century or more. No other British dish has survived this long this unchanged.

Why is it called “Yorkshire” pudding?

Yorkshire households commonly spit-roasted beef over a dripping pan, and the batter-in-the-pan technique was associated with that region long before it spread south. Hannah Glasse kept the name when she printed the recipe, and it stuck.

Can I make the batter in advance?

Yes. A Georgian cook would have mixed it in the morning and left it covered in the larder until the joint was nearly done. A modern household can do the same in the fridge for up to 24 hours. Let it come back to room temperature for 20 minutes before pouring.

Do I have to use beef dripping?

Not strictly, but the flavor is half the point. Real beef dripping carries the Sunday-roast note that sunflower oil simply cannot produce. If you roast beef regularly, skim and save the fat in a jar. Otherwise, lard is the next-closest substitute.

What is the difference between Yorkshire pudding and popover?

The popover is the American cousin. Same batter, usually baked with butter or oil in a deeper tin. The American version dropped the beef dripping when American Sunday dinners shifted away from roast joints in the early 20th century.

Can I freeze Yorkshire puddings?

Yes. Cool completely, freeze in a single layer, then reheat straight from frozen at 400 F for 5 to 7 minutes. They will not be quite as crisp as fresh, but they hold up surprisingly well. A Yorkshire household in the 1850s would have seen this as witchcraft.

Tools for the Traditional Method

A heavy metal 12-cup muffin tin is the closest modern equivalent to a Georgian dripping pan for individual puddings. The darker and heavier the metal, the better the heat retention and browning.

Real British beef dripping is sold in jars and keeps for months in the fridge. If you save it yourself from a Sunday roast, strain the hot fat through a sieve into a clean jar and cover when cool.

An oven thermometer is the single best insurance against under-rising puddings. Most home ovens run 20 to 30 F off the dial, and Yorkshire pudding is unforgiving to any oven running cold.

For more on British kitchens of the hearth era that first produced this pudding, see what colonial kitchens looked like and how they worked. For more ration-era adaptations of Sunday classics, the wartime dinner recipes roundup has the weekday equivalents. The vintage measurement converter helps if you are ever working from a Hannah Glasse or Mrs. Beeton original with gills and breakfast-cups.