Saturday, July 10, 2010

Roast lamb broken for a duke's table (lamb carved in the 15th/16th century English manner)

This project was undertaken jointly by myself and Vandel for the Midwinter Coronation Arts and Sciences competition in the category of 'a carved  item'. The table setting had previously been researched for the Stormhold Winterfeast table decorating competition which had a 15th century theme (see previous blog entries). Here is a link to a short YouTube video showing the carving in progress.

Roast lamb broken for a duke’s table 
Description: roast leg of lamb, carved in the 15th-16th century English style for a duke’s table as described in The Boke of Keruynge
Research and photography by Lady Antonia di Lorenzo, carving by Baron Vandel Lynchea (aka Rachel Grimmer and Rohan Davies)

Medieval meat carving 
Like most aspects of formal dining, the carving and serving of meat at a medieval high table was a highly specialised task. Unlike contemporary meat carving, where fairly large slices are served to the diner who then cuts them into smaller pieces with individual knives and forks, in the middle ages the carver provided a highly personalised service. Each item of meat or pastry was cut in its own particular way into bite-sized pieces, carefully avoiding any fat, gristle or other undesirable parts, and placed before the diner on trenchers of bread, then seasoned or sauced, ready for eating with fingers or a spoon. Forks were very uncommon in England until well into the 16th century, and if the carver had done his job well, individual knives were not used a great deal either. 
Because each type of meat, fowl, fish or bakemeat (pastry) had to be carved in a particular way (each referred to by own distinctive carving term) and served with the correct accompaniments, the carver required a great deal of training and experience. In addition the carver had to exercise his own judgement as to which parts of the meat and how much to serve each diner so as to please them and enhance the dining experience. Male children of the nobility were frequently placed as squires in the household of other nobles, preferably of higher status, to be trained in every aspect of courtly life including table service and body service (assistance with grooming and dressing). The young man would rise through the ranks of panter, butler, waiter, cup bearer, sewer (server) and carver. 
To assist these young men there were a number of handbooks written in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, such as the Boke of Nurture, the Babees Book, and The Boke of Keruynge. This latter is available with the original woodblock printed text placed side by side with the modern english translation (plus additional explanatory notes and diagrams at the end of the book by food historian Peter Brears), and has been used as the main source for this project. 
The carver and his utensils 
The carver was distinguished from other table attendants by wearing a white linen arming cloth about 3m long, draped diagonally over his left shoulder and tied at the waist on the right. Carvers would use a set of carving utensils owned by the lord. These consisted of large broad carving knives for setting the sliced trencher bread before the lord and carving the meat, and smaller narrower knives for holding the meat while carving, and for carving smaller birds. Only some meats, such as venison, were required to be held with a knife while being carved. Other foods were held with the thumb and two fingers of the left hand. Some carving sets included large two-pronged forks or a single spike for holding the meat. The whole set had a sheath or carrying case which was frequently embellished with the heraldry of the owner. The knives had elaborate handles of wood or ivory with silver or silver gilt mounts, and the blades were often decorated. A particularly rare set from the 16th century, one knife of which is held by the Victoria and Albert Museum, is engraved with musical notation containing a benediction to be sung before eating on one side and a grace to be sung at the end of the meal on the the other. Each knife has one voice part, the V&A knife being engraved with the tenor part. 
The table setting 
The table setting we have used is based on the instructions from The Boke of Keruynge and 15th century manuscript illuminations. On a white diapered cloth the diner’s place is set with bread trenchers. The number of trenchers varied according to the status of the diner - this setting has four slices, indicating an archbishop or duke. In the sixteenth century bread trenchers gave way to wooden or metal trenchers. We have chosen to use both to protect the tablecloth. To the left of the trenchers is a 15th century-style knop spoon placed on a folded napkin. To the right is an eating knife, a cup and a salt. 
Carving the lamb 
Although mutton would have been preferred to lamb in medieval times, lamb was chosen because it was more easily obtainable and  also substantially cheaper than venison. The roasted leg was placed on a serving dish opposite the lord for breaking (this is the medieval term for carving a joint of venison, mutton, lamb or beef). The meat is held using a long narrow knife in the left hand, and carved with a larger broader knife in the right hand. The first step is to remove any undesirable parts of the meat from the area to be carved. This includes skin, fat, gristle, burnt bits and (if applicable) any bits with hair or feathers. Next a series of parallel cuts is made into the meat, followed by a second row of cuts at right angles to the first. Then the knife is laid parallel to the surface and the meat sliced off as small chunks, and placed upon the trencher using the tip of the knife. The meat is not touched with the hands. Meat such as venison was often placed on a bed of frumenty to be eaten with a spoon, but for clarity of illustration we have omitted this step. After serving the meat might be seasoned or sauced by the carver. The correct accompaniment for lamb would have been gamelyne/cameline sauce, made with cinnamon and other spices, bread, and wine or verjuice. 
After carving, the lamb was eaten by the entrants and several members of the Abbotsford household. These experienced re-enactors provided useful feedback on the results of the carving. This method of carving was found to have a number of advantages over the contemporary method of cutting large thin slices. In addition to avoiding the need for a (non-period) fork in order to eat, it was found that this method of carving was ideally suited to cutting around bones in joints of meat. The meat also tasted better, with the chunks of meat retaining moisture and flavour better than thin slices. All in all, a resounding success. 
Wynkyn de Worde  The Boke of Keruynge (The Book of Carving) 1508 
Published with additional notes and drawings by Peter Brears, Southover Press 2003 
P. W. Hammond  Food and Feast in Medieval England  Alan Sutton 1993 
O. Redon, F. Sabban & S. Serventi  The Medieval Kitchen: Recipes from France and Italy   
translated by E. Schneider,   University of Chicago Press 1998 
Le très riches heures du Duc de Berry, Janvier  Ms 65/1284 fol. 1 v (sourced from the Web Gallery of Art)

La geste ou histoire du noble roy Alexandre  Ms. Fr. 9342, fol. 13 (sourced from The Medieval Kitchen)

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Khushknanaj - sweet sesame rolls with scented marzipan filling

The new Middle Eastern Dance Guild is planning to hold a feast in August and I am going to be in charge of the meal (by then I'll have my food handling and food supervisor's certificates). So I am gradually testing some recipes.

This recipe is from In a Caliph's Kitchen by David Waines, which contains a selection of recipes from medieval Arabic collections from the early ninth to the late thirteenth centuries. They are nearly all from Baghdad, the imperial capital of Persia (Iraq).

For each dish, the book contains a translation of the original recipe from Arabic and a modern interpretation. Unfortunately, the modern recipe has often been changed to suit contemporary tastes and is not an accurate redaction of the original recipe. This 13th century recipe is a good example, the modern interpretation completely omitting the sesame oil which gives it its unusual and quite delicious taste, so I have re-interpreted the recipe to be closer to the original. It results in a complex mix of flavours and a lovely texture. Note that the sesame oil is not the dark Chinese sesame oil, but the pale, more subtly flavoured Middle Eastern oil. I made the mistake of using the Chinese oil the first time around. It wasn't inedible, but definitely not to everyone's taste.

The original recipe does not say how large to make the rolls, and I found that dividing the dough into 12 resulted in rolls that I thought were too large, about the size of a small dinner roll. Next time I will make them 1/2 this size so that they are more of a nibble. This recipe will make the smaller size.


600ml plain flour
2 tsp yeast
1 tsp sugar
150mL sesame oil (not Chinese sesame oil)
150 mL water approx
sesame seeds

Mix the dough ingredients to a stiff dough and knead well. It is quite a hard dough to knead, not like normal bread dough. Leave to rise, then knead again briefly and divide into 24 pieces. Roll each piece of dough into an elongated oval and place a cylinder of filling in the centre. Wet the edges of the dough and fold over to enclose the filling. Make sure there are no gaps for the filling to escape because it becomes quite runny during cooking, and if you are not careful you end up with hollow rolls in a sea of burnt marzipan. Place on a baking tray, allow to prove for no more than 30 minutes, then brush the tops with milk and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Bake in a hot oven (230˚C, 210˚ fan forced) until golden. Allow to cool completely before eating. This allows the filling to solidify again.


200g caster sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
zest of 1 orange
100g ground almonds

Take the sugar and pound it with the cinnamon and orange zest. When it has absorbed all the flavour, sift out the orange zest. Mix it with the almond meal and add enough rosewater to make a stiff paste. Divide into 24 pieces.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

June Meeting 2010

Yes we will be having a meeting at my place :)
However, as St Monica's Event is in the afternoon, I ask that everyone come to my place about 11. We can cook up a stuff to take to the picnic :)

So... Topic will be warm food that will pack to take to picnic :)

See you all there

Monday, May 3, 2010

Photos from May 2010 meeting

pork pie, with a hot water crust pastry

pork pie with prunes

quince tart

pears poached in rose syrup, with red wine and fennel

macaroons and biscuits, before baking

at top, Polish cabbage, parsnip and honey soup
at bottom, wild mushroom and chestnut soup

The other dishes cooked (not shown in the photos) were dragon - a chicken dish - and spinach with prunes.  We also tasted various combinations such as chicken with the rose syrup. Delicious!

Saturday, January 9, 2010

parsley root

One of my delights in cooking is experimenting with unusual ingredients and tastes. Ever since I heard that the roots of parsley (a close relative of carrots) could be eaten, I had to try them, but last year I could only manage enough for a small handful in a stew. This year I had a glut of parsley (I seem to be able to grow too much or not enough - I'd rather the former), and after harvesting it several times, the crop needed a severe culling. I'm using the roots conventional flat leaf parsley, which work ok, but there exists a (modern?) variety called hamburg parsley which is grown for it's roots.

So recipes using parsley root were needed, and Cathy came to the rescue with her new Italian cookery book.

Bartolomeo Scappi Opera dell'arte del cucinare 1570

"To prepare a thick soup of parsley root. Get parsley roots from the end of september to the end of march, that being their season. Scrape them and core them; wash them and parboil them in boiling water, from which you take them and put them in cold water. Weather you cut them up into pieces or beat them with knives is left optionally to you. Cook them in a broth that is not too salty. When they are done, you can mix in beaten eggs along with verjuice or else grated cheese. You can also serve them plain with their broth. If you want to cover boiled chickens with them, however, when their core is removed, cook them whole without cutting them up, the way the fennel above is done, and with the same ingredients as for the fennel."

So the recipe is fairly simple: scrape the skins off the roots with a paring knife, slice down the sides to remove the woody cores, wash then parboil. Place in cold water immediately after parboiling to stop cooking. Chop into pieces and cook in stock. Serve plain with broth or add grated cheese or verjuice and beaten eggs.

My roots were quite dirty so I scrubbed them first, a decision I regretted given how long it took - washing after scraping would probably have been quicker. Coring took ages, especially since many of the roots were quite small, but the cores are very woody, even when very small and aren't amenable to eating. Once this preparation was done, cooking was quite easy. I parboiled the roots for 5 minutes, and was fascinated to see the parsnip coloured roots change the water to carotene yellow. I strained these, then plunged them into cold water. I drained them and left them overnight in the fridge because it was getting late.

The next day I chopped the parsley root into small slivers and cooked the parsley root in vegetable stock because I wanted to make a vegetarian dish - I think meat broth would have been more likely to be used in Renaissance times, and a better flavour compliment. I used just enough fluid (2/3 commercial vegetable stock, 1/3 water) to cover the roots, brought it to the boil (30 min?), then simmered for approx 1hr. This mixture was then frozen as I wanted to serve it on a later date.

Later I defrosted the roots and boiled them for half until warm, half for another hour or two before serving. The flesh of the parsley root is quite sturdy - roots cooked for the shorter time es were about the same as those cooked for almost twice as long - I'm sure modern carrots would have disintegrated under those conditions. I served some roots plain in broth and some with grated Cheddar cheese and verjuice at the Krae Glas December Twilight Tourney and both were yummy.

On seasonality: The months mentioned by Scappi are September - March, which for the southern hemisphere equate to March to September, ie late autumn through to early spring. This reinforces the fact that Scappi was Italian (not in the Italian alps), Not England or Germany with nasty snow and frost, which would probably kill the parsley but rather more like the seasons here, with parsley seeding and dieing/diminishing over the summer from the heat. I think harvesting my roots in October was a little late - they were no fatter, and possibly a bit woodier than those culled in September.

This picture is a bit less flattering than the food looked - the once melted cheese has congealed into lumps - it's actually the leftovers.