Q: And did you meet Princess Elizabeth that day?
A: I didn’t! The clothes all fit, so we didn’t have to do any alterations. I did get to meet the Queen Mum once. It was during the war and we’d made her a beautiful gown, and the queen said, “Would the girls who worked on my dress like to see me wearing it?” I was chosen, and Miss Holliday, and somebody from the embroidery room. Miss Yvonne, the queen’s saleslady, she introduced me. She said, “This is Betty, who helped to make your beautiful dress,” and the queen said, “Oh, thank you so much. I do love it when they sparkle!” She was so lovely, and friendly, and standing on the other side were all the servants, seeing her already dressed. There was a big banquet at the palace that night, and the king was there, too.
Q: Can you tell me about the time the royal ladies visited when you were working on Princess Elizabeth’s wedding gown?
A: Oh, yes. They wanted to see where the dress was being made, and when we learned they were coming we practiced our curtseys. I remember how they walked through the doors and we all did our curtseys, except we all bobbled up and down at different times. Mr. Hartnell brought the group over to our table, and he said, this is where the dress is being made, and then he explained how some Americans had hired the flat opposite—to see if they could get a glimpse of the wedding dress—and when he said that to Queen Mary, and explained how we’d had to cover the windows, she said, “What a bore!” in that very deep voice of hers.
Q: What do you think of the gown?
A: I thought it was beautiful. And you know, really, the embroidery made it. It absolutely made the dress. No one else could do embroidery like that, and it was so lovely. So romantic—like something out of a fairy tale. That’s how I remember it.
Grand-Mère’s Friday-Night Chicken
My mother made a version of this in the 1970s; I have updated it with ingredients that are readily available today, if not necessarily to cooks of 1947. This is the dish that came to mind when I tried to think of something that Miriam would have made, and though it is far from authentic in its origins, it is delicious and relatively easy to make.
Serves 4
1 medium orange
? teaspoon fennel seeds 8 chicken thighs, skin-on and bone-in, about 3? to 4 pounds Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1 cup prunes, pitted and halved （quarter if especially large） 1 cup green olives, pitted ? cup dry white wine or dry （white） vermouth
Position a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 400°F.
Using a vegetable peeler, zest the orange in long strips; aim for 8 strips of zest with no white showing. Once zest is removed, halve the orange and juice. You’ll need 2 tablespoons juice in total; set aside zest and juice. Crush the fennel seeds in a mortar and pestle or with the flat bottom of a drinking glass. Set aside.
Trim excess fat and skin from chicken thighs. Pat the chicken dry and season generously with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a 12-inch oven-safe skillet, ideally cast iron, over medium-high heat. （See below if you don’t have an oven-safe skillet.） Add the chicken to the skillet （in batches, if necessary） skin side down and cook until skin is well browned, 6 to 8 minutes.
Tilt the skillet and spoon off all but one tablespoon of the fat. Turn the chicken skin side up, sprinkle the prunes, olives, and fennel seeds around and over the pieces, and tuck the strips of orange zest in where you can. Pour the orange juice and wine over everything and sprinkle with an additional ? teaspoon pepper. （If you don’t have an oven-safe skillet, transfer the browned chicken to a casserole dish, pour off excess fat, scrape remaining drippings into casserole dish, and proceed with remaining ingredients.）
Transfer the skillet or casserole dish to the oven and roast until cooked through （chicken should have an internal temperature of 165°F）， 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let stand for 5 minutes. Serve with fresh bread and a green salad.
Reading Group Guide
How would you have reacted to the news of the royal wedding in 1947? Would you have been happy for a diversion from the depressing realities of postwar life? Or would you have been annoyed that so much attention and resources were being focused on one day when so many were struggling to simply survive?
How do you think you would have coped with the difficulties of the postwar period? Would you have carried on with your “chin up,” as Ann does? Would you have danced away your cares, like some of her younger colleagues at Hartnell? Or would you have been bitter that, even after sacrificing so much, everyday life remained so hard and cheerless?