1950s Back in Time for Dinner

Meet the Robshaws -

Brandon, Rochelle, Miranda, Ros and Fred.

Let's go.

For one summer, this food-loving family

is embarking on an extraordinary time-travelling adventure

to discover how a post-war revolution in what we eat

has transformed the way we live.

That is just amazing. Look at them!

Britain has gone from meagre rations

to ready meals at the touch of a button in just 50 years.

But how has this changed our health, our homes...

-We've got a pull-out larder.

-..and our family dynamics?

I can't do it any more. This is what would make a woman break.

To find out, the Robshaws are going to shop,

cook and eat their way through history.

It's 1974.

Whoa!

-I think that is enough sugar now.

-No, I hardly put any on.

Starting in 1950, their own home will be their time machine...

-Oh, my goodness.

-Oh, wow!

This carpet hurts my eyes. Who designed that?

Someone who's colour-blind.

..fast forwarding them through a new year each day

as they experience first-hand

the culinary fads, fashions and gadgets of each age.

HISSING

-Catch.

-Whoa!

This week, it's back to the austerity of the 1950s...

-What is it?

-It's liver.

We've just eaten the grimmest meal I think I'll ever eat.

..as they discover how our changing relationship with food

has shaped all of our lives.

I'm just sitting here on my own.

You know, it makes me feel like a bit of an outcast.

Sweets...

are off ration!

Yes! Yes!

On an ordinary British street,

an extraordinary experiment is about to take place.

The Robshaw family have agreed to give up their modern diet

and spend the next six weeks eating only the food of the past,

starting in 1950.

But it's not just the meals that will be different.

The entire ground floor of their own house is being ripped apart

and remodelled to reflect the average family home of the era.

Their modern extension has been blocked off,

leaving a kitchen half the size - too small for a dining table.

There was no open-plan living in the '50s.

Instead, the double reception

has been divided into a cosy sitting room

and a formal dining room.

I'll be running the family's time-travelling adventure

with the help of food historian Polly Russell.

This is a very ambitious experiment.

The way we eat has changed out of all recognition

in recent living memory

so by fast-forwarding the Robshaws through 50 years of history

in a matter of weeks, we should get a very dramatic sense

of how the way that we eat has changed

and the way that it's affected every aspect of daily life.

But now it's back to basics in 1950 -

the year George Orwell died, Princess Anne was born

and Attlee beat Churchill to win a second term in government.

Polly and I are taken aback by just how basic it is.

Gosh, it's very low-tech.

It's sort of like camping indoors. Everything is being done by hand.

There's nothing saving you labour.

It's a very basic kitchen in terms of equipment.

So, what's, like, the biggest shock that Rochelle is going to have?

First of all, it's the amount of time she's going to be spending working

and I think the second thing will be, in here, there's no fridge.

In 1950, only 3% of the population had a fridge.

Instead, the family will have to rely on the larder

to keep things fresh.

The Robshaws have signed up to eat only the food available at the time

which, in 1950, means hardly anything.

Wow, so that is the proverbial cupboard that was bare.

Yep, it really is quite spare.

Very little relative to what we are used to now

and with a marble shelf here, which helps to keep things cool.

Really? Does it work?

Well, it does work and you're buying food regularly,

you're buying food on a daily basis, and what you also see

is that there's no surplus money being spent on snacks,

on the sort of treats that we're used to,

and it's not somewhere where you would come to graze.

No, lard or an onion, or something,

is not what the kids want when they come home from school.

In the 21st century, lecturer Brandon, teacher Rochelle

and their three children enjoy eating everything

from sushi to super noodles.

But it's time to leave their modern habits behind

and step back in time.

Older people that I've met have said that the '50s was better,

that they had a good time, that the food was good,

and I'm curious, really,

to find out if it was true.

I'm most looking forward to knowing

what my dad would have had to do, or my grandma.

I think it will be a great experience for the whole family.

I often tell my kids about

the "olden days" and what it was like growing up back then

and I would just love them to live through it with me.

My dad does most of the cooking.

I think that my mum would find stuff like the cooking tricky.

She might get a bit... She might get a bit stressed.

I don't know how well I would cope,

so that does fill me with a certain degree of apprehension.

This is the family's first glimpse of their remodelled home.

Oh, wow.

Look at this.

Oh, here's where we eat.

OK, this is so cool.

This is so amazing.

This is where we will eat. I think we're going to really enjoy it.

SHE GASPS

-Look at this.

-We haven't got a television in here.

-Oh, my God, no TV.

-No TV.

Never mind. We can look at the Handy Reckoner.

THEY LAUGH

But the biggest change is in the kitchen.

THEY GASP

-Oh, my goodness me.

-Oh, my God.

-Oh, my...

-Oh, my goodness me.

-I did not expect this.

It's astounding.

It's just a completely different atmosphere, isn't it?

It seems so kind of bare and stark.

I'm surprised that it is as basic as it is.

It feels like a real utility room.

It's not the sort of room you'd kind of hang around in.

No, I'm not hanging around in it.

I think you'll find you are, actually!

-Where's the fridge?

-That IS the fridge.

SHE GASPS

A larder! With pork dripping.

Yeah, that is dripping. We'll have that in the morning.

Well, actually, there's not much else to have, is there?

That really isn't much, is it?

I've got no idea what we're going to eat tonight.

I think we'll have to go and get pizza!

THEY LAUGH

-Hello. Wow!

-Hi.

'Luckily, I've brought them a survival guide

'to life in the 1950s.'

So, this is your 1950s manual.

Your guide to how to live in the 1950s.

There's a guide to your roles, the things you'll be able to do.

If you wind the clock back to a less enlightened time,

you'll go to work and come back and want to know what's on the table,

and you'll have cooked it and you'll be serving it

and there's no real getting around from that.

The war was over, the women came back from the work they'd been doing

-straight back in the kitchen.

-Right.

There was a thing called the National Food Survey

and it records the exact meals that people actually ate in the 1950s

and you'll be replicating them.

What they really were eating was suet puddings,

a lot of potatoes - potatoes from yesterday, for example.

Bread and dripping, boiled things.

Established by the government in 1940, the National Food Survey

recorded what 8,000 families ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner

for one week every year.

The survey continued until 2000

and the meticulously kept diaries of housewives

provide a remarkable window into the changing diets

of ordinary families over the decades.

It will guide what the Robshaws eat for the next 50 years.

You've got no fridge, you've got no microwave.

You haven't got much of an oven.

-It's quite daunting in many ways. Quite brave of you.

-Right, yeah.

No, it looks like something I probably won't be able to manage.

-Any regrets?

-Yes, loads.

-THEY LAUGH

-Well, don't bring them to me.

I can't help you with them.

-I can give you the manual.

-Right, OK, thank you.

-Good luck in the 1950s.

-Right, thank you very much.

-I hope you survive.

-Thank you.

I feel... I don't know if the word is like overawed, underawed?

I can't work out what part of "awed" I'm at.

I feel sort of actually quite nervous

cos it's sort of the thought of the limitation of food.

So, I'm feeling a little bit anxious.

The reality of life in 1950 is beginning to sink in.

Five years after the end of the Second World War,

food was still rationed.

Cheap food imports

that had kept the nation going during wartime had ended

and our post-war agreement

to send crops to the starving population of Europe

meant supplies of many foods remained under government control.

It's far worse now than it was during the war

and if we get much less, there'll be none at all.

To ease teacher Rochelle in gently to austerity cooking,

she's making a simple National Food Survey tea

that a 35-year-old housewife made for her tailor husband

and two teenage sons in 1950.

-WOMAN:

-'National bread, dripping,

'pilchards, tomatoes,

'potatoes, tea, milk and sugar.'

Ooh.

Gosh, it looks like honey.

Dripping - the fat saved after roasting meat -

was a free, flavoursome alternative to rationed butter.

I think if people had to eat this every day,

it might be pretty tough,

but a lot of people did and a lot of people enjoyed it.

It's a bit unusual for us, because we don't have it.

I'm going to try and open the pilchards.

This is going to be a problem. I've got no idea how to work it.

The government subsidised the canning of pilchards,

a mature sardine, to make the country less dependent on imports

and they appear as a regular feature

of families' diets under rationing.

No. Do you think you stab it in?

How did they do it?

There must be a knack.

Oh, dear, I've made a hole in it!

I don't know what...

I'm going to hyperventilate.

We'll be starving to death

and there'll be an unopened tin of pilchards found on the table.

The National Food Survey records that many families

supplemented their rationed diet

with fruit and vegetables they'd grown themselves,

a habit adopted during the war.

So, Brandon and ten-year-old Fred

have come to the allotment I've arranged for the family.

Loads here.

Aren't they beautiful? These are the treasures of the earth.

In the supermarkets, it always says "new potatoes".

-But these are really new.

-Yeah.

We could be eating these the same day we dug them up.

Can you get your shears right round that green bit at the end?

Not my finger.

-Catch.

-Whoa!

That is one big marrow, isn't it? Isn't it fantastic?

In the 21st century,

Brandon does the lion's share of the cooking at home.

But following the rules of the experiment

means he's exempt from kitchen duties.

I think it will be a bit frustrating to not be allowed in the kitchen.

I'm not even ALLOWED in the kitchen.

That seems a bit extreme to me.

But, having said that, if this is what I get to do as an alternative,

if I get to come to an allotment and dig

and get fresh vegetables out of the ground and then take them home,

I think there's something quite fulfilling about that.

Back in the kitchen, Rochelle is still battling with ancient gadgets

and calls for reinforcements from youngest daughter Ros.

-See these pilchards.

-No-o-o.

I can't open the tin, Ros.

What makes you think I'll be able to open it?

I think you've got that sort of brain.

-I have no idea what this is.

-It's a tin-opener.

I don't know how to open a normal tin. I'm really sorry.

I'll buy you something, if it wasn't austerity years.

That can't possibly pierce the tin.

It must go round the edge, but I don't know how to...

You're better off asking Miranda.

-Hello!

-Can you help with the pilchards?

-I can try.

I've managed to make a hole, but I can't get anything out.

-Do you know how to do it?

-No.

If I knew how to do it, I wouldn't ask you, would I?

-Oh, God.

-I don't think we can have the pilchards tonight.

Look what we've got.

Brandon and Fred are back from the allotment,

eager for their first '50s tea.

That is so wonderful.

-I can't tell you how happy I am to see these.

-Yeah.

If you could open the pilchards. I'm having a bit of a problem with...

All right, I'll have a go.

-From what I remember...

-Be careful. Be careful.

Course I'll be careful.

-I think just try and work it all the way round.

-Really?

-Cutting as you go.

-Oh.

Well, we're not doing that well, are we?

You're going round over the top, Brandon.

Well, I'm doing it in a slightly irregular manner.

Whoever designed this bloody tin-opener...

It's like the worst bit of design.

That's probably open enough that you can dig it out with a spoon.

-Do you think that's how they did it?

-Yes, I do.

I just feel cross that I was defeated by a can-opener.

And I haven't even made a cup of tea yet.

Ugh.

-Shall I talk you round the bread plate?

-Yes, please.

-This is bread and butter.

-Yes.

-This is bread and dripping.

-Yes.

-This is bread and pilchards.

-I'm not looking forward to it.

-Fred, have you tried the bread and dripping?

-No.

-I think you should.

-No!

Look, in the '50s, they had to just eat what was there. Try it.

Well?

-Eurgh.

-You don't like that? OK.

It's just, like, salty, weird jelly spread on weird bread.

-It's a good job we got these tomatoes.

-Yeah.

-Otherwise, there'd be nothing that was fresh or colourful.

-No.

If you'd been out working all day, this just doesn't seem...

not quite...enough.

It's not kind of fortifying enough.

'I'm actually still hungry after dinner.'

I ate, like, potatoes and bread.

It sounds quite filling, but it wasn't

because it's bread and potatoes and I don't really want to eat that.

'I would rather starve than eat rationed food.'

Eurgh!

Really was quite austere and pretty sort of basic, really.

You can imagine after going through the war

and then suddenly finding your condition has not improved one bit.

I'm surprised there wasn't a revolution.

In this experiment, each new day heralds a new year.

So, for the Robshaws, it's 1951.

Usually, Brandon would make the kids' breakfast

but it's Rochelle's duty now.

It will probably be 1954 by the time this boils.

She's making the same breakfast as a 45-year-old housewife made

for her decorator husband and four children.

'Weetabix, toast and dripping, tea, milk and sugar.'

In 1951, the majority of households

were eating the subsidised national wheatmeal loaf.

Introduced during the war to stretch Britain's limited wheat supplies,

the bread used flour made from the whole grain,

including the husks, and was fortified with extra vitamins.

With a portion of our wheat crop now being sent to Germany,

the gritty and rather indigestible loaf

again became a staple of the British diet.

WOMAN: Honestly, I'm beginning to dread each new day.

Just when we're getting used to a bit of white bread,

back we have to go to wartime loaves.

It's taking a bit of a while.

Compared to a toaster, it would probably be done by now.

-Thank you.

-Just... That's not all yours. Just take a bit!

THEY LAUGH

Ugh. It's making me feel sick.

The thing about the national bread is, though,

that it's quite filling, isn't it?

It is hard work to eat

and you get a bit fed up with it, don't you?

Imagine having that every day.

This is going to sound a bit pretentious,

but in Henry V, there's a bit where he talks about

somebody going to bed crammed with distressful bread

and I kind of know what he meant.

It's how I feel. Yeah, I'm crammed with distressful bread.

I know we're not supposed to waste food,

but I am quite happy to waste that.

-Bye, Rochelle.

-Bye, Brandon. Work hard.

-I'll try.

Usually, Rochelle would be heading out to work

-with the rest of the family.

-Have a nice day.

Bye.

I feel a bit sad.

Go back to an empty house.

But as a 1950s housewife, she's got a full-time job at home,

when domestic chores took an average 75 hours a week,

compared to just 18 hours today.

There's nobody to talk to

and it does feel slightly trapping for me,

but that is, for many women, how it would have been.

It must have been extremely frustrating

for women who had been at work during the war.

I think it's OK if you don't know you're trapped

and you've always lived that life, but if you have tasted that freedom

of being out with other women and working,

it must have been quite hard.

But there's no time for Rochelle to dwell.

With no fridge, she needs to shop every day.

Rather than the 25,000 products

stocked by the average modern supermarket today,

her choice is severely limited.

And food is expensive.

In 1951, British families spent, on average,

an astonishing one-third of their income on food

compared to as little as 12% today.

There's your ration for the week.

-Oh, gosh, that's for the week?

-Yeah.

Although the war has now been over for six years,

meat, eggs, butter, cooking fat, sugar, tea and sweets

are still all on ration.

So, that's just one egg for five people? Wow.

And things are about to take a turn for the worse.

'It's a double problem today for the butcher and the housewife.

'Not much meat and much of what there is makes the butcher blush.'

That's your ration for the week. There's no more.

-Is this all?

-That's the lot.

What am I supposed to do with that?

In 1951, Britain refused to pay higher prices

to its main meat supplier, Argentina,

so the meat ration hit an all-time low of 5oz per person, per week.

One little bit of steak on Friday

and, blimey, we've had it for the rest of the week, then.

What does a man live on? Elevenpence of meat? Disgusting!

I've come for my liver.

So, it's 5oz per person. Shall I cut you 5oz?

-Yeah, let me see what that looks like. Yeah.

-No problem.

And you don't do anything on the black market, do you?

-Erm, no.

-No!

Just trying to get a little bit more.

The individual meat ration was the equivalent

of just over one quarter-pound burger a week.

There you go - there's your 5oz.

Right, that's quite small, isn't it?

Most families ate their main meal, dinner, in the middle of the day

and Rochelle now needs to prepare Brandon's.

She's making a meal first made by a 45-year-old housewife

for her train conductor husband.

Fried liver, onions, potatoes,

cauliflower, national loaf, dripping.

Experienced housewives would spread their ration through the week,

but novice Rochelle

has bought the family's entire meat ration in one go.

Concerned about keeping it fresh, she's cooking it all at once.

Cut so thin.

I don't want it to be like a bit of shoe leather.

In 1951, 60% of men came home for their midday meal,

so Brandon's doing the same.

Oh, God, I'm starving. What have we got?

-We've got liver and potatoes.

-All right.

I have to check myself not to go into the kitchen.

Normally, it would automatically be the first place I would go to.

And now, I find myself sitting in this quiet little room

waiting for somebody to bring me a meal.

It's a completely different experience.

Maybe I'll get used to it. At the moment, it feels a little strange.

-Here you go.

-Oh... Good, thank you.

-Do I need to ask what this is?

-You're getting grumpy.

It's just... I'm sorry.

It's just this national bread - I can't face it any more.

You know the sort of feeling you get

when you just know that your body

doesn't want any more of a particular kind of food?

That's what I've got here.

So, these are really quite small, thin slices, actually, of liver.

You're eating the week's ration.

-The WEEK'S ration?

-Yes.

So, you wouldn't get any more meat after that.

It's not really enough, is it?

Well, I suppose the thing about it is,

there's no kind of zing or kick.

There's no kind of herbs or spices.

-So, it was kind of bland.

-Right.

To be told that it's bland and boring

felt like a bit of a stab in my heart.

-OK.

-The National Food Survey

shows that Rochelle's frustrations with rationing

were shared by thousands of women.

The 44-year-old wife of an ironmonger commented...

'A little more butter and meat would make such a difference.

'A hungry man is an angry man.'

And then he's gone off to work,

so it kind of feels, phwoof, you know, what am I going to do now?

Well, wash up and then make another bland meal.

But there's a good excuse to splash out.

It's Ros's 15th birthday

and Rochelle's using the week's sugar ration

to make a pink layer party cake... with dried eggs.

I've never cooked with dried eggs before.

It's really odd. How can that be an egg?

Bran's got absolutely no idea

what it's like to be in the kitchen for the whole day.

It's a bit soft in the middle,

but perhaps we can just eat up to the middle and then leave the rest.

The cake is filled with jam

and topped with icing made with blancmange powder to save on sugar.

It's too runny to go through a piping thing.

I'll just drip it over the top.

I wanted to try and ice her name in it,

but that's not really happened.

Birthday girl Ros, Fred, and Miranda are back from school.

As soon as I get home, I'd usually have something to eat

and I'm actually really, really hungry.

I'm missing crisps, chocolate,

sweets, ice cream.

Just everything nice.

Flavoured crisps haven't been invented yet

so for Ros's birthday meal,

they'll be eating Brandon's leftovers.

With food in such short supply, not a crumb was to be wasted.

So, they're going to have some of this cold liver

which, I have to say, really doesn't look terribly appetising.

It's gone a bit green.

-Hello.

-Here's your supper.

What is it?

This is the leftovers from Dad's meal. It's liver.

-Urgh.

-No?

-Urgh.

-It's got blood in it.

You can just try a little bit.

What do you think?

-It's weird, isn't it?

-It's disgusting.

What part of it's disgusting?

All of it. The bread made me feel sick all day today.

-Literally, I didn't feel good all day today.

-Really?

Well, just eat the cauliflower, then.

But it's cold.

They really didn't like it. I mean, what was it?

Potatoes, cauliflower and bits of liver - all cold.

What's not to like? You know.

But we'll see what happens with this cake.

What is that?

That is really nice. It's actually really nice. It's icing.

We've just eaten one of the grimmest meals

I think I'll ever eat in my life.

I feel really sorry for Ros.

It's been the worst birthday in the world.

-ALL:

-# Happy birthday to you... #

My birthday really wasn't very good.

I didn't actually eat any supper, because it wasn't very nice.

I'm sorry, but I think about it, the liver is the bit of your body

that processes all the things that your body doesn't want.

So, why would you eat that?

-Hello. I'm back.

-Hello, Brandon. Hi.

The Food Survey shows that many children ate tea with their mothers,

while their fathers ate later, undisturbed.

One of the drawbacks to being served in this way

is that you kind of feel

almost that you're not really part of the family.

I missed out on Rosalind's birthday tea today.

Now they've all gone off and are busy doing other things

and I'm just sitting here on my own, eating in this empty room.

You know, it makes me feel like a bit of an outcast, almost.

The mood within the family seemed to really dip.

Those austerity years were extremely difficult.

Having to sort of keep going and make the best of things

must have shown an enormous strength of resolve.

Housewives like Rochelle

may have struggled to feed their families at home

but the government was doing its best

to ensure children had enough to eat

through the compulsory supply of school dinners.

By 1952, 50% of children

were eating their main meal of the day at school.

Polly and I have asked Fred's school

to prepare a dinner for his class 1950s-style.

Obviously, they weren't eating burgers and chips

and turkey twizzlers, so what dismal 1950s stuff was on the plate?

I think when you read the menus,

they don't read as being grey and dismal.

They seem quite meat-heavy, from our perspective.

A lot of roasts, boiled meat, pies.

Quite a lot of offal, so heart, liver, kidneys.

There's always an emphasis on the protein.

Could the schools cook whatever they want?

No, schools were given quite strict directives

from their local authorities about what they could and couldn't cook.

So, they had to provide 20g of protein a day

and they even specify 400mg of calcium

in recognition of a nation

that's historically had terrible teeth, rickets, stunted growth.

So, this project is really about

building the health and the strength of the future generation.

It all sounds very municipal and centralised.

It seems a bit over-controlling.

Well, it comes out of the idea of the state

looking after the people, the country, the nation,

and also that rationing sort of worked,

that it equalled out inequalities in diet and health

and so there was this imperative

to continue that through the state feeding of children.

We'll see how these pampered 21st-century school kids

-get on with real cooking.

-Exactly.

We're serving up for Fred's class, the classic mince and dried peas,

potatoes and boiled cabbage.

Right, children, your 1950s lunch is ready. Don't all hurry at once.

It smells like sick. It looks horrible.

-Come on, it's good for you. Do you want gravy?

-Nice big helping.

-What do you think of the food, then?

-Not nice. Disgusting.

This food isn't very nice,

but this is probably a tiny bit better than my mum's.

There's not much flavour in it and it's just plain.

Do you think this food is more or less healthy

than the food that you eat?

I think it was healthy, but not very nice.

They might have turned their noses up at the grub,

but a combination of rationing and strict controls on school meals

meant that in the '50s, the diets of children were healthier

than at any other point in our time-travelling experiment.

They all ate it, and even the ones who went, "Yuck!"

actually ate it - they all finished their food.

So, either these are very well brought up children

or the 1950s, they really had something right about feeding kids.

Although there was equality in what children ate at school in 1952,

the subjects taught were rather less even-handed.

Put some elbow grease into it.

I've arranged for housekeeper Vanessa Littlejohn

to give Miranda and Ros instruction in housecraft -

part of every schoolgirl's timetable.

It's vital as young ladies who, hopefully, will get married one day

to be a very good housewife,

and housecraft is one of the most vital bits of education

a young lady will ever get.

There were fears that after five years of war,

with men away and women working outside the home,

the tradition of mothers passing on knowledge

of how to run a home to their daughters was disappearing.

'Every branch of homemaking is taught.

'In the kitchens, they learn simple cooking.

'And in the laundry, the children are taught to wash and iron

'exactly as they'll have to when they're grown-up.'

So little effort there, young lady.

Miranda and Ros both plan to go to university,

but the chances of their doing that in 1952 were less than 1%.

Those that could afford to

were expected to give up work on marriage

and become dependant housewives.

Throughout the day, you would be cleaning, shopping, laundry.

You wouldn't have had time for a job.

Being a housewife was a full-time job.

Try not to bash the furniture.

I hate the way that my future's being mapped out

to be a good housewife.

I just find it extremely boring

and I don't think I'd be a very good one at all.

So, I'd have to do something I wasn't very good at

and I didn't like my whole life, and I wouldn't even get paid for it.

FANFARE ON RADIO

'Into the City of London winds the procession of heralds

'to proclaim within her ancient walls

'the coronation of our Queen.'

In 1953, the nation was given a public holiday

to celebrate the coronation of Elizabeth II.

To mark the occasion,

households were given extra rations of margarine and sugar.

-Look at all this sugar!

-Oh, you've got some supplies.

Oh, my goodness me. Look at that.

I want the family to put theirs to good use.

"You'll have guests arriving at four."

Well, I think you might have to get cooking, darling.

Magazines were crammed full of tips

on how to make perfect coronation displays.

Got to make a crown.

If I put it on a scale of whether I could recreate this,

I'd say probably one.

Without a fridge, setting the jelly for the crown's centre

is going to be impossible.

So, Rochelle has hit upon a solution shared by many '50s housewives.

My plan is to see if there's anybody in the street

who will let me set my jelly in their fridge.

-Hi.

-Hi!

-Hi.

Do you mind if I use your fridge, just to pop that in to set?

Oh, sure. Yeah, that's fine. Come on through.

A fridge cost around 11 times the average weekly wage,

the equivalent of over £4,500 today,

so it would be a popular neighbour that had one.

Rochelle also needs to whip cream to decorate the crown.

I'm just thinking I wish I'd married an American soldier.

Then I'd be in America with a whisk, an electric whisk!

The lack of a fridge is also proving problematic

in creating the crown's arches.

Despite the fact that it is on a marble surface,

the marg is really melted,

so considering I'm making pastry, I'm not sure how great this will be.

That's terrible.

That's just terrible. It's just... Look at it.

I don't think the Queen would want to look at this.

I don't think it's the sort of crown she'd want to wear.

With Rochelle making a royal mess in the kitchen,

the rest of the family are in party mood.

-What?

-Like that?

-Like that.

-Really needs a good old clonk with something, doesn't it?

Clonk with your head.

FRED HUMS THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER

I think you might find that that's the American anthem.

I think if the Queen could see this now, she'd be delighted.

I know that it is a holiday,

but it doesn't feel like a holiday for me.

I'm still in the kitchen and I've been on my feet all day.

So, it feels like the same sort of day,

except I'm making slightly different things.

Ohh.

It's burnt...

on one side.

I left it in for too long and the heat was hot

and the little medallion on the top is now, of course, stuck to it.

But at least she's had the help of modern technology

for that jelly.

-Is that set? It's a bit wobbly.

-It is very wobbly, isn't it?

What shall I do? Shall I tip it out now?

-Yeah, cos it's hot in here.

-Yeah, OK.

Oh. Ah...

It's not a crown - it's a beret!

Oh.

SHE LAUGHS

-Shall we finish it off with this?

-What is that?

This is the biscuit.

-So, this is supposed to look like that, right?

-Yeah!

-It's the same.

-Look at that.

Oh. There's absolutely nothing you can do with that, is there?

There's nothing.

So, it says, "Just follow the instructions and success is yours.

"It's easy to make."

Well, it's obviously a lie, isn't it?

Wow, look at this, Fred.

This is what a television set used to look like in the 1950s.

While only 5% of British homes had invested in a fridge by 1953,

almost 20% had found the money to buy a TV set.

It made a click, but nothing's happening.

-Oh, there we are.

-There we go.

I know it's only the test card, but I think it's not a bad picture.

I love the idea of clustering round that and watching our noble Queen.

I think that would be really fascinating.

The crowning glory is finally finished

-just in time for the guests...

-There.

..women from a local community centre

who were all housewives in the 1950s.

Oh, wonderful. This is wonderful.

Oh! A larder. Oh, we had one just like this.

Cake tins.

Lemons, everything.

Cereal. Oh, you've got it all. It's really wonderful.

-I found it really difficult.

-Yes.

With the restriction of food that is available.

-You didn't have enough stuff, did you?

-No. No.

Because you had to make do with what there was available.

But did you think that was good

or did you know that it should have been better?

-You accepted that.

-Right.

Me, I was a... You accepted these things.

'Now comes the State Coach carrying Her Majesty.'

Nearly three-quarters of the population

watched the coronation on television.

Oh, look.

Doesn't she look lovely?

-She looks very kind of small and young.

-She was.

The weight of that crown must have been so heavy on her head.

How does it not fall off?

I expect she has to keep her head very, very still.

Well, she's certainly done long service for the country.

..give it to Fred.

It was nice to be with other people,

because a lot of the time, I've been on my own,

so actually having other people to talk to has been really nice.

And I can imagine that people

would really look forward to events like the coronation

because it would just take them out

of this rather mundane kind of existence.

# Leaning on a lamp

# Maybe you think I look a tramp... #

The pit of my day was my dad playing the ukulele,

cos it's just embarrassing.

That's really embarrassing.

# ..Oh, my

# I hope the little lady comes by

# I'm leaning on the lamppost at the corner of the street

# In case a certain little lady comes by. #

THEY CHEER

1954 brings the best possible news for British families -

with food supplies increasing, rationing is finally over.

'Queues are about to become a memory.

'Meat - the last food on ration - has been freed after 14 years.

'You can buy enough to satisfy the most demanding appetite.'

To celebrate, I've given them some end-of-rationing goodies.

-Oh!

-I'm smiling.

-So am I.

-Look at this.

-Oh, do you know, I've got goose bumps!

-No wonder.

-Oh, my God.

How bizarre is that?! I've got goose bumps.

-Fresh eggs.

-Eggs.

-And proper bread.

-Wow.

-And what's this?

-I think this is...

It's bacon!

Sweets...

are off ration.

Yes! Yes!

I can have as many sweets as I want and my mum can't stop me!

This morning, Rochelle's making a Food Survey breakfast

served by a 45-year-old housewife from the West Midlands

to her husband and two teenagers on 15th October 1954.

Eggs, bacon, white bread, tea, milk and sugar.

I'm actually Jewish. I don't normally do bacon and eggs.

But I do actually feel like eating this!

With white bread now widely available,

in the space of four months, sales of brown fell to almost zero.

It's lovely.

This bread is just so much nicer - you could just keep eating it.

You wouldn't feel you'd had enough after half a slice.

Feels extravagant, doesn't it?

Just feels like there is just plenty and we can have as much as we want.

This is the first meal that has actually been tasty.

It's proper, it's tasty.

That's cos it's, like, normal.

It's modern food.

I feel like the world is in two different colours.

When it was rationed, it was all quite dark

and now it's sunny.

That was just a fantastic breakfast, Rochelle. Thank you.

It's the first time you've thanked me for anything.

Well, I must say I think it's the best meal we have had so far.

CAR HORN HONKS

- That is a sick car. - Oh, my...!

-What do you think?

-Rather nice, isn't it?

To celebrate the end of austerity, the family is going on a picnic.

Car ownership was just taking off,

although there were only 2.5 million cars on the road

compared to 32 million today.

CLANKING

LAUGHTER

ENGINE REVS

-Slow down.

-You can't tell someone to slow down at 20mph.

-Slow down.

-Why?

-Because, Dad, you are a terrible driver.

-I'm not!

This is a nice spot.

These look like very good sarnies.

-That's the corned beef ones.

-OK. Nice.

'Oh, it's fantastic. The end of rationing, honestly,

'I feel like somebody has opened a door'

and there is a bright, sunlit world beyond it - it's wonderful.

LAUGHTER

I think that really suits you.

'I'm so happy, cos for the past, like, three days,

'I haven't actually really eaten anything.'

And now I can just eat stuff I want to eat,

and all the chocolates and sweets and all that stuff.

'After the last couple of days of just being enclosed,

'it's really beautiful to be out in the open air.'

It's almost as if I can breathe, actually,

and my hands haven't smelt of dripping for, sort of, 24 hours

which is really nice.

Although rationing had ended, food remained expensive.

But change was afoot.

A transformation in farming

that would start to bring the cost of food down.

Old hedges are bulldozed out of the way,

for the small fields of our grandfathers are uneconomical

on the large modern farm.

Determined Britain should never face the shortages of wartime again,

the government launched a range of incentives

to increase agricultural production.

Farmers raced to invest in modern equipment,

new pesticides and fertilizers

and wheat yields increased by nearly 50% across the decade.

It was the start of a total transformation

in the way food was produced.

In 1955, a brand-new product,

utilising the very latest manufacturing techniques,

hit the shelves -

the frozen fish finger.

'I've come to Billingsgate fish market

'to meet Peter Hajipieris from Birds Eye

'to find out how the chance discovery of fast freezing

'changed British eating habits forever.'

The story is that Clarence Birdseye,

who was the inventor of the whole process,

he was a scientist...

-He was a real person?

-He was.

-Was he a captain?

-He wasn't a captain.

-He wasn't in the navy at all?

-No, no.

-He wasn't like Captain Birdseye?

-No, no, he was a scientist.

Very keen on exploration

and he was in Canada on a fishing expedition

and he left some fish and went back

and realised that the sub-zero temperature

was immediately freezing the fish.

What surprised him, actually, was when he got back,

he defrosted the fish and it tasted just the same

as the fish in the fresh form.

What he then tried to do was replicate that back in the lab,

he was in labs for years, experimenting,

until one day, he invented something called the plate freezer.

He patented it and there was born the fish finger.

And thus a tea-time legend was created.

To convert cod into appetising fish fingers

takes no time at all.

No sooner shaped than fried.

Fish fingers were produced

at the biggest quick-freezing factory outside America,

in Great Yarmouth, and they flew off the shelves,

selling 600 tonnes in the first year.

Is it a bit surprising that the fish finger caught on

in homes that didn't have freezers?

I don't think it is surprising.

This is one of the first great convenience foods.

It was healthy, nutritious, great fun for the kids.

And of course, in those days,

they had the slogan when they launched,

"No bones, no smell, no waste, no fuss."

And the convenience factor was very attractive

for housewives in those days, hence why it succeeded.

I've sent the Robshaws their first taste

of the convenience food revolution.

Wow.

That's really nice.

The product is very convenient - I heat it up and that is it.

Nothing to do, nothing else to do, it's fantastic.

By 1956, the average wage had nearly doubled

since the start of the decade, to over £11 a week.

Many Brits had disposable income for the first time ever.

Britain was riding the crest of an economic wave.

"Cleaner and more efficient than gas - it's electric!

"Now there is no need to wait to purchase your new electric cooker -

"ask for hire purchase.

"Talk to one of our representatives at your local showroom today."

Domestic appliances were hugely expensive,

but the recent lifting of restrictions on hire purchase

put them within easy reach of the masses.

Consumer culture was born

as newfangled electrical goods were snapped up, on credit.

Mrs Harrison, what have you bought on HP?

There's the mixer, the fridge, the washing machine,

the dishwasher and the polisher.

Why do you keep buying all these things?

Well, I know I shouldn't really say this,

but I like to see all the envious looks of my friends.

Manufacturers used a variety of techniques

to sell these shiny devices,

particularly saleswomen who could extol their virtues.

The only bending-down cleaning jobs -

the bottom and the top of the oven.

I've sent the Robshaws to meet a familiar face

who worked as a demonstrator in the 1950s.

-Ah, it's Mary Berry!

-Nice to see you.

How lovely, lovely to see you! Fantastic.

I worked for the Electricity Board in the 1950s.

And I really loved my job because I was trained in domestic science,

but I had to learn the technical side

and a technician would go out and put this in a village hall,

with a table, and I would arrive and do the demonstration.

And it was really such fun.

I would be telling people all about the virtues

of the modern electric cooker.

The electric oven in the '50s was revolutionary.

With the development of the National Grid,

86% of households were wired for electricity.

It was promoted as a clean, efficient alternative

to dirty coal gas cookers.

It's nice, isn't it, don't you think?

It's lovely - it does look very beautiful, doesn't it?

Well, people would say, "I could never afford that",

and you would say, "But you could have it on hire purchase

"and it would only cost you £10 a week."

And then they'd sort of get interested.

Hire purchase was absolutely new then and, eh...

You know, people thought it was sort of sent from heaven.

One of Mary's demonstration techniques

was to make a Victoria sandwich -

the benchmark of perfect 1950s baking.

So we have got 8oz of butter in here, then 8oz of sugar goes in,

and you'd cream it together.

In the past, people would have done it with a wooden spoon,

and that took a long time.

But we had these wonderful mixers.

MIXER WHIZZES

And if I was in the showroom doing a demonstration,

people would walk by and you would see through the glass it rising.

People thought it was magical.

-Does that look good?

-Wow.

In goes the cream

and that is the classic Victoria sandwich.

It's so light - it just feels like it is made of a cloud or something.

So are you tempted to buy an electric cooker?

I'm not just tempted, I'm sold on it.

I want one - I want two!

Oh, that's good.

Ker-ching! That's another sale for Mary.

I think the oven will transform my life,

simply because it does look so new.

It looks better than the functional oven that I've got at the minute

that looks like a furnace.

In 1957, Prime Minister Harold Macmillan

declared that "Most people have never had it so good",

and women across the country were falling for the latest

must-have kitchen gadgets.

Hello.

GASPING

The Kenwood Chef is a piece of magic, really.

This is every woman's best friend

and is going to save many, many hours of her labour,

because it was so versatile.

It could beat your eggs, make cakes, knead dough,

chop up vegetables, liquidise soup.

Appliances like the mixer

were marketed to women with idealised images of the home.

With new labour-saving devices, cooking was no longer a chore,

but something for housewives to celebrate and take pride in.

It's got this futuristic American design.

So it is promising something about the future

rather than looking back to the past.

It's not like your mangle,

-which looks like an instrument of torture.

-Yes.

This looks like an instrument of pleasure.

For me, coming from early '50s to having one of these

would be the most extraordinary thing to have.

One of the ways they sold it

was by saying the reason that American women looked so young

is because they have food processors.

Rochelle's got the gadgets.

Now she faces the ultimate test for the perfect '50s housewife -

Brandon's boss is coming for dinner.

She's attempting a three-course meal,

including souffle and an apple and orange tart

from the most popular cookbook of the day -

Cordon Bleu bible, the Constance Spry cookery book.

Oh..."Turn half of this mixture into a buttered souffle.

"Break the four eggs carefully into the four little nests."

There are 15 different steps to the dessert alone.

I'm feeling immense pressure.

It's just having to do all of it in one go, it's too much to do.

Remaining true to his '50s role,

Brandon's staying out of the kitchen and building a bookcase.

With the boss coming for dinner, I've put a lot on Rochelle

and she'll have to rise to the challenge.

Oww! Ah!

In the kitchen, there's still the main course

of beef Stroganoff to prepare.

Cut the meat, cut the meat, cut the...

-Are you going mad?!

-Yes, cut the meat...

Hello, Mr Steaky!

I think my mum in the kitchen is going a bit deranged -

she's laughing for long periods of time,

she is repeating the same things over and over again.

It's the classic signs of insanity.

Rochelle is discovering that the idealised vision

of the modern housewife, aided by her new gadgets,

isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I'm working harder with the devices

because I have given myself that much more to do.

With this, it's like loads and loads of different preparations,

different steps - it's an extremely complicated procedure.

And I can imagine there must be many women

who might feel they are not reaching that level of perfection

that is desired of them.

Under pressure to project an image of the perfect housewife,

it's not just the food that's got to look good

as Brandon's boss Chris and his wife Jenny arrive.

Great to see you.

Hi, nice to meet you.

-Hi, lovely to meet you.

-You, too.

ALL: Wow!

-That looks delicious.

-These are souffles?

-Yes.

Oh, this looks incredible.

That was good, wasn't it?

-That's lovely.

-Oh, that's very good.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if there was a machine in the future

that did the dishes?

Oh, that's just science fiction, darling.

LAUGHTER

That looks really good.

This is an apple and orange tart with a sabayon sauce.

It just shows how much eating habits changed in just eight years.

Cos that sort of thing just wouldn't have been conceivable in 1950, 1951.

We wouldn't have had the ingredients, anyway.

It is absolutely delicious, it's really light.

-LAUGHING:

-I'm going to collapse with my legs up in the air.

'I'm really pleased, that really seemed to work.

'I think Brandon's boss was genuinely impressed.'

He might give me a job.

SHE LAUGHS

'I think Rochelle played a blinder.

'I think it was a fantastic menu, perfectly executed,

'you could see they were enjoying it.

'Rochelle came good when it mattered -

'she's had some struggles'

but when the heat was on, she was equal to the occasion.

-That was excellent.

-So nice.

-Really good.

THEY LAUGH

The end of the decade has arrived.

Polly and I are joining the Robshaws and their friends

for celebratory cocktails

to discover how the family have found the 1950s.

You can tell I'm a real mixologist, can't you?

There's one family member who won't be sad

to say goodbye to the period.

There no iPad, there's no computer, there's no nice sweets...

The list goes on.

-Cheers.

-ALL: Cheers.

Here's to the end of the 1950s.

Over the decade, they've eaten 24 meals,

most of them unrecognisable to a 21st century family.

I've learnt that, you know,

I can actually live without snacks all the time

which is a bit of a shock to me.

Generally, the food didn't have as much flavour

and it was all quite heavy,

but it probably was quite healthy because we didn't eat much sugar.

One of them is the celery Farsi.

Though I didn't particularly rave about all the food,

it is healthy food, and at the end of the week,

I must say, I am feeling quite good.

That was the food. But what about the impact on family life?

In contrast to their 21st century roles,

Rochelle's been in sole charge of the kitchen -

cooking all meals from scratch, shopping every day

and doing 75 hours of housework.

There are elements of being a '50s housewife

that...that are appealing.

It is nice to sort of create a meal and put it on the table.

But I have missed Brandon's support

and the isolation between me and Brandon

makes me feel quite lonely.

Rochelle in the kitchen all the time,

most of the time us eating separately,

I feel we've lost something there

and I feel, for this week, I've sort of lost a friend.

I'm not at all surprised

that a family as modern and emancipated as the Robshaws

are delighted to leave the '50s behind.

I had looked at it previously through rose-tinted spectacles -

I thought the '50s was maybe some glorious, traditional time of family

and everyone being together after the war.

But clearly, you can see from Rochelle, she is ground down by it -

no respite from the grimness of life apart from sleep.

Brandon also clearly doesn't like not being allowed into the kitchen.

He feels cut off from his family.

From the experience of the Robshaws, it seems that the family was quite a fractured thing in the 1950s.

Older friends have said life is better in the '50s

and they are obviously lying.

It's obviously not true.

So I'm happy to leave the '50s behind.

I want to move on.

Oh, my goodness me.

Next time, the Robshaws experience the swinging '60s.

Look at that.

It smells like dog food.

Ta-dah!

Have you seen 'em? Don't you think that is just exciting?

CLANGING

Oh, look - what's that dog doing in here?!