The ancient Egyptians used these savoury jellies to preserve tasty, meaty tit-bits to gorge on at a later date. Legend has it that they became so fond of jelly’s preservative properties that it was reserved for Royalty and only the most special occasions.

While we’re still hunting the hieroglyphic for jelly, we like to imagine that the ancient Egyptians were as captivated by jelly’s wobble as we are today. 







 

But Henry VIII’s favourite jelly was rarer than the hippocras and came flavoured with ambergris, a precious whale product more elusive than any gold or diamond. Ambergris is the result of a quite remarkable process, produced in the digestive system of sperm whales and then regurgitated or secreted into the ocean to absorb its salty, fragrant aromas. In essence, the whale equivalent of a fur ball, produced by as little as one in one hundred sperm whales. 

In Henry VIII’s day, ambergris was also prized as a powerful aphrodisiac and medicine for the heart and brain, and for diseases such as epilepsy, typhoid and asthma. 

In turn, jelly moulds became increasingly extravagant to surprise and delight diners who thought they’d seen it all. Yet with the industrial revolution in full swing, these elaborate copper jelly moulds soon became increasingly affordable. The best were made by Benham and Froud, the firm that gilded the golden pineapples atop St Paul’s Cathedral. They made historic beauties such as the Belgrave mould - fitted with many turrets each encasing a decorative column of cream. 

It was the arrival of leaf gelatine in local grocers that brought jelly to the masses. Mrs Beeton’s legendary 1861 tome Household Management lists 55 jelly recipes ranging from cactus fruit to guava and from rhubarb to champagne. Most of these conclude with the suggestion to ‘sling in a glass of brandy’. 

Earlier this year we had a chance to tackle the record again as part of the Museums at Night 2012 ‘Connect10’ initiative. Isambard Kingdom Brunel’s steamship, the SS Great Britain in Bristol had put in a bid for us to set the listed vessel in a sea of jelly, and we’re delighted to say, we won the public vote to actually make it happen.

The dry-docked SS Great Britain is surrounded by a plate of glass covered with harbour water, to insulate and preserve the iron hull. Our challenge was to fill this plate with a vast jelly measuring 55,000 litres and stretching to over two Olympic swimming pools in length, thereby setting the ship in a fruity gel matrix.

Combine the gin, tonic water and rose water in a jug and set aside. Cut the leaf gelatine into fine pieces and place into a heat-proof bowl with enough of the gin & tonic mix to submerse it. Leave until soft.
 
When the gelatine has softened, place it over a pan of simmering water to melt. Then add the remainder of the gin and tonic and pour through a sieve and back into the jug. Now fill your mould and leave to set.

Unmould the jelly by briefly immersing in a bowl of hot water and inverting over your chosen plates. For maximum effect, turn off all your lights and close the curtains to achieve total darkness. Switch on your blacklight and serve your glowing jelly to your thrilled diners.