A Medieval Feast II - Compost

When faced with turnips, parsnip and cabbage, I'd probably just end up making a big pot of soup.  So would have most people in the middle ages too (or pottage as they called it back in the day, or frumenty with cereal, or a luxury mortrew).  Clearly this wouldn't cut ye olde mustard if you were cooking for the king .  It's time to pimp that root veg.

Compost (composed, rather than decomposing) is a kind of spicy pickle of root veg.  Bear in mind that all these spices were being shipped from the furthest corners of the world, and you realise this wasn't an everyday dish.

Compost

Take rote of parsel. pasternak of rasenns. scrape hem waisthe hem clene. Take root of parsley (I just used parsley leaf), parsnip (pasternak of rasenns  got a 'Qu' from Mr Pegge, but pasternak is parsnip) and scrape and wash them clean

take rapes & caboches ypared and icorne.  Cut up turnips and cabbages

take an erthen panne with clene water & set it on the fire. Take an earthen pan with clean water and set it on the fire. Or  in my case, take a cooking pot and put it on the gas hob.

cast all þise þerinne.   Put all the veggies in.

whan þey buth boiled cast þerto peers & parboile hem wel. When they've boiled, put in pears and boil them.  I've heard in medieval times they had some large, hard pears called warden that needed cooking.  My pears were so soft and juicy, so I felt mixing them in with the still hot veggies would be enough. 

take þise thynges up & lat it kele on a fair cloth, do þerto salt whan it is colde in a vessel take vineger & powdour & safroun & do þerto. & lat alle þise thinges lye þerin al nyzt oþer al day. When they've cooled add salt, vinegar, powder douce, and saffron, and leave all day.

take wyne greke and hony clarified togider lumbarde mustard & raisouns corance al hool. & grynde powdour of canel powdour douce. & aneys hole. & fenell seed.  Take greek wine and honey clarified together, (lumbard?) mustard and whole raisens.  Grind cinnamon powder, powdour douce and whole anise (I used star anise) and fennel seed.  I did the grinding by hand in a pestle and mortar, which was a bit too much like hard work for me. 

 take alle þise thynges & cast togyder in a pot of erthe. and take þerof whan þou wilt & serue forth.  Put everything in a bowl together and serve it forth

The recipes in the Forme of Cury have no ingredient measures or cooking times, but nearly all have instructions to 'serve it forth '- as if that was the part of the recipe you're likely to struggle with.

Having served it forth, and even eaten it, what did I think? Well, it was interesting.  There was a sharpness from the vinegar, and different spices in every mouthful.   There are no instructions to reheat before cooking, so the first day we had it cold.  I'm not used to cold root veg, and not sure I want to be.  The next day I heated some up, which made the root veg nicer, but then the vinegar didn't work as well as for a cold pickle.  All in all, I think I'll stick with the soup.  But maybe that's just the peasant in me.

A Medieval Feast - Chykens in Hocchee

Where to start for my first venture into historic cooking?  Well the beginning seemed a good place.  

The Forme of Cury is was written in 1390 by King Richard II's chef, making it the oldest known cookbook in English.  While the original was written on velum (calf's skin), I got a shiny new copy from Amazon.  However, the recipes inside are still in meadieval English.  Oh dear.  

 

The text has had the "benefit" of an editor (Samuel Pegge), but his notes and translations through the book are pretty variable in their usefulness.  Some words he doesn't translate at all, some more obvious words are translated [peeres = pears], and there are quite a few times he has noted 'Qu.', which I'm guessing just means 'question?'.  His foreword is totally unreadable, but he did write it in 1791, so maybe it was just the style of the time.   

I found that between reading the recipes out loud (this was before standardised spelling, so things were written as they sound) and Samuel Pegge's notes, and getting my husband who has studied middle english to help translate, I could start to make sense of it all.  The recipes have no quantities or cooking times, so give me plenty of creative licence to do what I fancy.

Chykens in Hocchee

(a little note, þ=th)

Take Chykenns and scald hem. Take chickens and scald them. I didn't feel the need to scald my chickens. They were from a supermarket, so I didn't need to finish plucking them myself.
take parsel and sawge withoute eny oþere eres. take garlec an grapes and stoppe the Chikenns ful and seeþ hem in gode broth. so þat þey may esely be boyled þerinne. Take parsley, sage, garlic and grapes and stuff the chickens full. Boil them in a good broth. I just used stock, but I suppose they hadn't invented stock cubes in the middle ages.
messe hem and cast þerto powdour dowce. Send them and put on 'powdor douce'.

Powdor douce seems to have been sprinkled over everything like some kind of medieval ketchup.  Being so ubiquitous, they didn't include the ingredients with this recipe.  I found a recipe in a little Medieval cookbook (by English Heritage) which used cinnamon, grated nutmeg, black pepper and sugar. The recipe is sourced from Mrs Groundes-Peace's Old Cooker Notebook - I love her name.  So much I might even change mine.

So, how did it all taste?

The chicken was very soft and tender from poaching, but didn't have a lot of flavour by itself, so it really needed the extra spice from the powdor douce.  Even though it sounded more like something you'd put in a Christmas cake and not with chicken, it worked well and reminded me of middle eastern cooking.  The stuffing was very good - the grapes soft and mellow, with just a touch of sweetness, and the garlic also  mellowed by the slow cooking inside the chicken.  

I may not be a convert from roast to poached chicken, but I would make the grape & garlic stuffing again, and I might even go for some more powdor douce.  At least at Christmas.........