Henderson’s Relish: A History of a Sheffield Classic

This post is part of the History of Food series, a revived project from 2021 that explores the origin stories of traditional dishes, the lessons they can teach us, and the people who keep the food alive. In each post, we visit a restaurant that puts their spin on a classic dish. 

During a recent trip to Sheffield, I stopped for lunch on the boulevard outside the Howst Cafe. The waitress and I began to discuss regional foods in the area — Yorkshire puddings, fat rascals and Wensleydale cheese.

But, you can find those anywhere in Yorkshire. So I asked: what about food exclusive to Sheffield?

She mulled it over a little while. Then, suddenly her face lit up. She rushed inside and returned a moment later. She placed a stout bottle of sauce my table.

“It would be a crime for any eatery in Sheffield to not have this,” she said with a tinge of pride in her voice.

She’d brought Henderson’s Relish.

Or, as the locals call it, “Hendo’s.”

At first glance, the product resembles Lea and Perrin’s famous Worcester Sauce: a dark, rich sauce with an orange label.

A common mistake, apparently: in 2012 during a debate in the House of Commons, the MP Jim Dowd denounced Henderson’s as “parasitic packaging”, believing it to be a rip-off Worcester Sauce, like those you may see at certain cheap German supermarkets.

How wrong was he?

Well, unlike Worcester Sauce, Henderson’s Relish is vegan-friendly and approved by the Vegan Society. Further still, similar to Lea and Perrins, Henderson’s has a rich history which spans over 100 years.

The relish began life in 1880. Henry Henderson, a Sheffield greengrocer, took inspiration from Yorkshire Relish, the condiment of choice in those days, and began concocting his own.

He sold it from a barrel in his shop and, as the product grew more popular, he hired a woman specifically to serve it.

In 1910, Henry retired and sold the business to George Shaw, marking the last time a Henderson had any involvement with the product. But, because of its popularity, Shaw retained the name.

Shaw began production of Henderson’s proper and by 1930, sold a million bottles of the relish annually. Business stagnated over the mid-20th century until the 1990s and early 2000s when Kenneth Freeman took over. Freeman brought Henderson’s into the 21st century with new branding, a website, and a place on supermarket shelves.

While widely loved in the area, the product is scarcely known outside of the area. And, although Henderson’s have recently tried to stretch the appeal of their relish beyond the borders of Sheffield, I am left wondering whether that’s what anyone truly wants.

There’s a certain appeal in regional foods. They give a place identity. Most places have dishes and products that are unheard of elsewhere, and the people cling to them with pride. The product itself feels almost irrelevant.

It’s the notion of identity that we love.

No wonder everyone with an “S” postcode, including incumbent Liberal Democrat leader Nick Clegg, jumped to the relish’s defence after Dowd’s defamatory comments.

Pani Puri with Henderson’s Relish at Ashoka, Sheffield

Perhaps the appeal of identity is what led Ashoka, Sheffield’s oldest Indian restaurant, to concoct the “Henderson’s House Puri” — a true fusion of India and Sheffield.

(Incidentally, Henderson’s is based on a number of Indian ingredients, including tamarind and cloves. Thus, in using Henderson’s in their puri, the ingredients have came full circle).