Day 12: Caudell, Medieval Egg Nog

A man cannot make him laugh - but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine.

Shakespeare, Henry IV, part 2

It's finally here - the last day of the 12 Days of Medieval Feasting.  And what better way to end than with a fond farewell toast over a warm cup of medieval eggnog? 

To be honest, I can't remember where I saw this drink referred to as the medieval version of eggnog (though I am certain I did); it's actually frothy white wine or ale thickened with egg yolks, sugar, and saffron.  The first time I made it, I didn't get the comparison at all. For one thing, I hardly used any sugar  because I don't generally prefer sweet alcoholic beverages.  But the result, to me, tasted of strong hot wine and eggs, kind of like spiked egg beaters - not exactly the stuff that pleasant holiday memories are made of, if you ask me.

Day 11: Payne Foundow, Medieval Bread Pudding

Take bred; frye hit in grece or yn oyle.

Put hit in rede wyne & gryne hit with reysons, & draw hit.

Claryfye honye with gleyr of eyron & watyr; scome hit clene & put hit to that othir.

Do therto clovys, macez, & gynger mynced & good poudyr & salt.

Loke hit be stondyng, & floresch hit with annise in confite.

from An Ordinance of Pottage, fifteenth century culinary recipes

Even though I am not generally a big dessert person, I do have a soft spot in my heart for bread pudding, in particular Creole bread pudding souffle with whiskey sauce. After all, that's what Poppa Trix and I had for our first anniversary lunch at Commander's Palace in New Orleans this past June, a dish he subsequently recreated  (sans the souffle part) for my birthday. So when I came across this fifteenth-century recipe for medieval bread pudding - payne foundow - I was naturally curious to try it.

Day 8: Fenkel in Soppes, or Fennel in Saffron and Ginger Sauce

Let us not forget to honor fennel. It grows on a strong stem and spreads its branches wide. Its taste is sweet enough; sweet too its smell.

from Hortulus, by ninth-century Benedictine abbot Walahfrid Strabo, trans. from the Latin by Raef Payne

I was initially attracted to making fenkel in soppes, or fennel in sauce, because I really can't think of anything else I've ever made where fennel was the center of attention. Sure, I've used fennel, most recently in my medieval salat, but I've never actually featured it as the main event.

But fennel was a big deal in the Middle Ages. Twelfth century mystic Hildegard of Bingen ascribed  medicinal properties to it, and believed it could treat coughs, colds, heart problems, and even body odor. My favorite supposed use for fennel was as an appetite suppressant and metabolism booster. I don't know about you, but after the holidays I think I'm going to eat fennel every day!

Day 7: Medieval Gynger Brede

An I had but one penny in the world, thous shouldst have it to buy ginger-bread

Shakespeare, Love's Labours Lost

You saw that this post was about gingerbread, and so you probably figured you'd see photos of cute little gingerbread men, or fancy houses with icing trim, or at the very least some nice, fluffy cake.  Well, this is medieval gingerbread, my friends, and it doesn't play like that. 

Day 4: Clarrey, Spiced White Wine with Honey

He drynketh yppocras, claree, and vernage

Of spices hoote, to encressen his corage

Chaucer, The Merchant's Tale, from the Canterbury Tales
 

For me, part of the appeal of making clarrey, a medieval spiced white wine with honey, was the thought that I would get to drink something similar to what Chaucer may have quaffed while writing his Canturbury Tales.  After all, he does mention clarrey - or "claree" - in both the Knight's Tale and the Merchant's Tale. If that's not bringing history and literature to life, I don't know what is.

The fact that it's alcoholic didn't hurt, either. I mean, all this medieval cooking really works up a thirst - a wench has got to drink, after all. (That said, I think this could easily be adapted if you don't drink or if you'd like to make it for kids, which I'll discuss in a bit.)

Day 3: French Iowtes, or Peas Porridge with Onions

Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot, nine days old.
Some like it hot, some like it cold, some like it in the pot, nine days old.
Nursery Rhyme, origin unknown

Don't worry - these peas are not actually nine days old! In fact, they barely lasted one evening, with a little left over for lunch, as Poppa Trix and I gobbled them up in short order - they were that good.

This is another 600-year-old recipe from Forme of Cury, as interpreted by Gode Cookery. And while I haven't been able to find a direct connection between this dish and the modern British classic mushy peas, what with the mint, mashed up peas, and onion,  I find it hard to believe that none exists.

Day 2: Tart de Bry, a Medieval Brie Tart

Doesn't a nice cheese tart seem like the perfect thing for a Medieval feast?

What could be simpler? According to the fourteenth-century recipe collection Forme of Cury, all you have to do is, "Take a crust ynche deepe in a trap. Take yolkes of ayren rawe & cheese ruayn & medle it & pe yolkes togyder."

Got it? Luckily for those of us who aspire to actually try these dishes out,  there are many translations of these old texts available in print and online.  According to Gode Cookery, while the recipe title - Tart de Bry - seems to imply that the tart should be made of brie, in fact the "cheese ruayn" referred to in the recipe is actually rowan cheese, also known as autumn cheese, a semi-soft cheese that's not quite as soft as modern brie.  Oh - and as far as I can determine, it doesn't actually exist anymore.