The Cook-A-Long is a virtual kitchen for Medieval and Renaissance Cooking enthusiasts in the SCA. Each month a period recipe will be posted in the original language (when available) and a translation. All cooks are encouraged to try their hand at redacting and preparing the monthly dish and post his/ her results to the blog. If you are interested in becoming a participant in this cook a long, or would like to submit a dish for the month please send an e-mail to valkyr8 (at) yahoo (dot) com.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Alinore's redaction - Plum Tart

I chose to make the first recipe using dried plums, because they are so readily available in the dried fruit section. I was a bit skeptical of the dough recipe given, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try it. It did make a passable dough, although I think that perhaps I didn't roll it thin enough because it was a little tougher than I'm used to. The other interesting thing was that it had a flavor that was similar to homemade noodles, which makes sense given the ingredients, but was rather unexpected in a pie.

It's a fairly straightforward recipe, and I did exactly what they said to do. I cut up about 15 dried plums and boiled them in about 1.5 cups of red wine, 3/4 cup of sugar and a tsp. of cinnamon until they were reduced to a thick syrup. I had forgotten about mixing in some eggs into the filling, so I didn't do that, but the fruit mixture was so rich and delicious that it didn't need it.

I think that when I make this again, and I will because it passed both the adult and the 3 year old test as a yummy dish, I will probably use a traditional pie crust because I didn't like the texture of the egg and flour crust.

I also think that if you didn't add quite as much sugar and added more cinnamon to this mixture that it would be a lovely sauce for poultry or beef. It was so fruity and good that we were scraping the pan with a spoon to get all of the syrup out of the pan.

Friday, December 14, 2007

To make a gelly of pork.

Merouda here.

It kind of stuns me that so many people don't really care for terrines and galantines. I grew up eating a terrine called "Sylta;" my grandmother made it every Christmastide as part of the festival foods. Traditionally, sylta is made of veal, pork, and some spices, but the recipe my grandmother "gave" to me contained only 3.5 things: Pork, allspice, onions, and, if there was not enough bones with the pork to gel the broth, a packet of unflavored gelatin.

I decided that I wanted to have a sylta for Boar's Head, because, as you likely realize, sylta as I know it is essentially the same thing as headcheese/brawn. Of course, it could not be eaten on site, but there are certainly opportunities to eat during the day that have no bearing whatsoever on the event. So I decided to look over my recipe, compare it to some period receipts for jellied meats, and make a period version of sylta.

Medieval Cookery has an interesting beta feature, in which it will offer not just the recipe you desire to look at, but a list of similar recipes. After reviewing the recipes it sugested, the recipe I chose to be the altering agent for the sylta I grew up with was Jellied Pig's Trotters from Wel ende edelike spijse, a late 15th C. Dutch cookery manuscript.

Jellied pig's trotters. Boil them well in water, let them cool. Take the sinews of the bones and feet and crush well in a mortar. Temper with wine and some of the cooking liquid of the trotters, strain it, and let it cook for a while. Temper ground saffron, ginger, cinnamon and cloves with the brew. Pour it on the trotters in wooden dishes and let it cool.

I chose this one because it was comprised of the single meat, pork, with a spice array that is close to the allspice range. Historically, as Columbus is supposed to have brought allspice to Spain*, I could have shrugged and used it secure in the knowledge that I may have run into it in my husband's home**, but where is the adventure in that? However, I also wanted something that I would recognize as sylta, so I wanted the spices that allspice was said to combine and evoke.

Here's how I interpreted it:

About 2 lbs of pork "country rib" cooked in water (with an onion & 1-2 ground peppercorns) and deboned.
1 t ginger
1/2 t cinnamon
1/4 t cloves
1 packet unflavored gelatin

Boil the pork in water with an onion. Boil until the meat is very tender but still capable of being sliced and the water, onion, and meat juices (et cetera) have reduced to a thick broth, about a cup's worth.

Remove the pork from the bones; strain the broth if you wish. Keep the broth on very low heat while you begin to assemble the terrine.

Remove the pork from the bones. Trim and discard as much fat as possible. Cover the bottom of a 3 inch by 6 inch terrine (or a small loaf pan) with a layer of pork. Sprinkle a bit of the spice mixture (cloves, cinnamon, ginger) over the first layer, then sprinkle a bit of the gelatin over the top of that. Place another layer of pork over the first; sprinkle with a bit of the spices, then a bit of the gelatin, and so on, until you've layered all the pork. Mix the remainder of the spices and the gelatin into a quarter cup of heated broth and pour over the top layer of pork. If this is not enough liquid to fill the terrine, use the remaining broth to finish filling. Cover. Place aside to cool, and when sufficiently cool, put into fridge (or, at this time of year, on a cold porch, as I did) to chill overnight.

To remove from terrine, dip the terrine into a hot water bath for 3-5 seconds and then invert on to a plate. The jelled terrine should slip from the terrine mold with ease.

Serve cold with a good mustard sauce and a hearty bread.

I did not have saffron or a suitable wine for this redaction, which is why they are not included in the dish. I threw the onion and the pepper into the broth just to give it a little something to work with beside the meat.

For my Boar's Head traveling lunch, I had this with Wild Flour's Multigrain Sourdough (which I love because there is no egg involved and the breads are hand shaped and baked in a traditional-ish stone/brick oven, closest I'll ever get to buying my bread from the period baker--don't laugh, I looked at a lot of local bakers to see just who was closest to period bread baking techniques, Wild Flour wins, followed by Breadsmith), a dijon style mustard, the Apples Royal I had canned for Pennsic but never got around to eating while there, and 6 oz of bitter beer.

It was delish.

As to the comparison of the traditional sylta and the jellied pork terrine based on the period receipt, both were good, but I have to confess that the spice mixture used above didn't flavor as nicely as just the allspice. On the other hand, the ginger added a nice touch, and I'm curious regarding how a boil in a bit of wine might affect the taste.

One of the things that I especially love about this is that it keeps well, and I can make it, eat what I want of it, and then bust it back down to stock and pork bits to make a soup or a casserole. Michael won't eat this as a cold brawn on bread with mustard, but he will eat it as a broth with pork and noodles.

As far as cooking for dietary restrictions goes, this is a fairly brilliant meal for someone trying to reduce intake of saturated fat, sodium, and eggs. What fat there is in the broth will separate and float to the top while the terrine sets, allowing you to just scrape off and discard that before eating.

*This is disputed. Other histories of the spice put it in Europe in the early 17th c. Trust me on this. Don't dismiss allspice as acceptable because Columbus may have grabbed a few grains and dropped them in Isabella's hand.

**Provided, of course, that Columbus actually brought allspice and that the King and Queen of Spain decided that they'd share their novelty with the English wife of one of their ambassadors.

Monday, December 3, 2007

December Recipe: Plum Tart

This month I am including 2 recipes for a tart with plums. Both are 16th c. German from Das Kochbuch der Sabina Welserin. Try one or both or whatever you wish.

In the name of the Holy Trinity I, Sabina Welserin, begin this cookbook. God grant me His holy grace and wisdom and understanding and judgment with which I through His Holy will live here in this time and with Him forever. Amen. anno 1553

70 A tart with plums, which can be dried or fresh Let them cook beforehand in wine and strain them and take eggs, cinnamon and sugar. Bake the dough for the tart. That is made like so: take two eggs and beat them. Afterwards stir flour therein until it becomes a thick dough. Pour it on the table and work it well, until it is ready. After that take somewhat more than half the dough and roll it into a flat cake as wide as you would have your tart. Afterwards pour the plums on it and roll out after that the other crust and cut it up, however you would like it, and put it on top over the tart and press it together well and let it bake. So one makes the dough for a tart.

71 Another tart with fresh plums Take the stones cleanly out and cut them open in the middle and make the tart and sprinkle sugar and cinnamon on the bottom crust and after that lay the plums as closely together as possible and put sugar and cinnamon on them again. Put also some butter thereon. Make after that the tart dough in the manner which is recorded in number [seventy].

Not enough time. . .

I fear I did not get to this recipe this month. My cooking time was spent prepping for our local event, for which I am cooking one of the courses in the feast. I did have a lovely squash for dinner one night, with some broiled pork, when I realized I wasn't going to be able to make it.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Pompions, part II

Merouda here.

I was just plonking around on and I noted that they had a period food and a period recipe section. The wiki could use our help in filling it out with good, cited information.

That's primarily why I'm typing this, but since Cunnan did have Gourds in Pottage up, I thought I'd also briefly record this:

I did a second redaction of the Gourds in Pottage, this time, without meat products. I didn't get a picture, I'm recording it here mostly so I have a record of it. :-)

1 Butternut squash
3 onions
1 cup sangria
2 tblsp olive oil
1/2 cup ground almonds
ginger, cinnamon, salt

Cut and peel butternut squash; cut into chunks. Chop onions and saute in olive oil until translucent, then place sangria, almonds, and squash into the sauce pan and add enough water to cover; boil until tender. Add 1/2 t salt. Start with a tsp of cinnamon and a 1/2 tsp of ginger. Mash up the squash, taste , and add additional cinnamon and ginger as needed.

Sangria, again, adds sweet enough that you don't need to add sugar, and, of course, I left out the eggs lest I break out in hives. This was also very good. However, I would probably treat this as a side dish, whereas my earlier redaction could serve as a main dish. And, oh boy, was peeling the butternut squash easy. Something to be said for smmooooth squash. I'd also be interested in trying this with pumpkin and bacon, but I haven't gotten to it yet. That's my plan for the 10 minute version. ;-)

Friday, November 30, 2007

December's recipe

I'm thinking of a traditional pudding or a sweet. Anyone have specific suggestions?

I'm looking forward to seeing some of you at Boar's Head, and I'm very excited for the feast.


Saturday, November 17, 2007

Gourdes in Pottage

10. Gourdes in Potage. Take young Gowrdes; pare hem and kerue hem on pecys. Cast hem in gode broth, and do þerto a gode pertye of oynouns mynced. Take pork soden; grynde it and alye it þerwith and wiþ yolkes of ayren. Do þerto safroun and salt, and messe it forth with powdour douce.

- Hieatt, Constance B. and Sharon Butler. Curye on Inglish: English Culinary Manuscripts of the Fourteenth-Century (Including the Forme of Cury). New York: for The Early English Text Society by the Oxford University Press, 1985.

GODE COOKERY TRANSLATION:Stewed Gourds. Take young gourds; pare them and cut them in pieces. Put in good broth, and add a large amount of minced onions. Take boiled pork; grind it and add it along with egg yolks. Add saffron and salt, and serve it with powder douce.

The stock: I began my redaction by preparing my broth. I had saved the bones from a pork butt that had a bit of meat on them still and those became the foundation to my stock. To the bones I added 8 cups of water, 1 onion peeled, 4 bay leaves, 2 stalks of celery cut large, 5-6 whole pepper corns, 1 T salt, 1 T herbs de Provance. I brought this mixture to a boil and simmered it for approximately an hour.

I strained out the meat, veggies and herbs, discarded the herbs and picked the bones of all meat. The bones yielded approx 1 cup of pork. I ended up with 6 cups of stock.

I chose to use a butternut squash. I cut it, scooped out the seeds, peeled it and cut it into largish chunks. I put the squash into a medium size pan and added 2 1/2 c. of broth and one minced onion and let that simmer for 20 minutes.

The squash was nice and tender after cooking for 20 minutes and I used a potato masher to make the squash into a thickish paste. I think I could have used less broth because the dish was more runny then I would prefer, or I could have poured off a portion of the broth prior to mashing, which would have worked too.

I minced up the pork with a knife and added it to the squash along with the yolks of 3 eggs. I added several threads of saffron, 1 T of salt and mixed that in thoroughly. I transfered the dish into a stone pot and sprinkled the top with approx 2 tsp of poudre douce.

I let the dish rest for while I finished the decreases on DJ's socks, before dishing up a portion to try. Overall I found the taste to be pretty nice. I think it could use some more salt, but the mixture of the squash, onion, pork, cinnamon and sugar was very pleasant. I still think it is too runny and should be thicker, it's similar to a runny pudding. I'm wondering what the taste would be like if I put the pork through a grinder and but the squash in a blender. Maybe next time.

This dish did meet the almost 1 yr old test and was happily gobbled up to bouncing and yummy noises.


Monday, November 12, 2007

On Poudre Douce

As Merouda pointed out, there is an excellent article on Medieval Cooking powders at the Thorngrove site. Alinore also pointed out that Poudre Douce is similar to Pumpkin Pie spice.

The poudre douce mixture that I create is based on a set of guidelines provided to me by Aramanthra. This is not an exact recipe, but a guide to the types of spices that were found and the approximate rate at which they were mixed. Poudre douce is essentially mixed to the taste of the individual (be that merchant or cook) and there was no propretary mix used throughout. I like to think of it in the same way as I think of curry mixtures. Curry is made up of several spices, but they are mixed at different ratios to the taste of the individual/ house.

Here are the guidelines that I follow:

1-3 parts each: cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, sugar
1/2-1 part each: cloves, galingale
maybe some: cardamom, mace, grains of paradise, saffron

Happy cooking!


Sunday, November 11, 2007

Alinore's redaction-Gourdes in Pottage

For this recipe, I decided to use the two acorn squash that I got from a coworker's garden. I decided that I wanted to try out a vegetarian version of this recipe, because I like the idea of having veggie dishes be strictly vegetarian for feasts so that non-meat eaters have a variety of options. I looked at the recipe Giovanna linked to in Gode Cookery and that article talked about using walnuts instead of the pork. I liked the idea of using the nuts instead of meat as a flavoring agent for this dish.

I started out by making a spice mixture to recreate the powder douce. From what I could find using Google, it is a mixture of spices that is somewhat similar to a pumpkin pie mixture. I used 3 tbs. sugar, 2 tbs. cinnamon, 1/4 tsp. cloves, and 2 tsp. ginger. I was pleased with the way the mixture smelled and tasted.

Next I finely chopped half an onion and put it in a pot with 1 can of vegetable broth. Then I started to attempt to peel the squash, which didn't work out as well as I would have liked it to, so I put them in the microwave until half cooked, then I peeled and cubed them and put them into the boiling stock. I added a little salt and a couple threads of saffron at this point and let them simmer.

When the squash was cooked, I used a potato masher to mash everything together and added 4 oz of ground almonds, two egg yolks and 2 tsp. of the powder douce. I kept the heat on and stirred to let everything come together, then put a lid on it and let it sit for about 30 minutes before serving.

I was mostly happy with the flavor of the dish. Next time I would use a little less saffron, 2 threads instead of 4 and a little bit more powder douce. I would also grind the almonds much finer, almost to a powder, and put them in to simmer with the squash. This dish didn't pass the 3 year old test, she wasn't a fan. I did serve it to a fellow SCA member who said that if they were served this at a feast they would eat it, so I suppose it passes that test. I think this is a nice dish to do if you like squash, if you don't like squash then it's probably not the dish for you.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

To boyle pompion in the olden manner

Today, I tried our receipt as part of a simple fall meal. We are not doing the Thanksgiving cooking this year, so I thought I'd give myself a little meal time today. The below meal consists of the Gourds in Pottage recipe, a redaction of Tart of Plums from Good Housewife's Jewel, (English, 1596, by Thomas Tusser), two toasted slices of French peasant bread from Breadsmith, and a glass of el cheapo sangria. More on the Sangria as we go on.

First, some more conversation on the squash, this time, as a link that discusses the entomology of the name and cites some of the period appearances of the fruit that we are cooking today. Only Americans really call it squash, it's something else everywhere else. Enjoy this article: Cucurbita pepo.

You might also enjoy reading the preview of the book Food in Colonial and Federal America as it has a nice discussion on the era in which NWF and OWF were mixed, and who brought what to the table. I believe I will add that book to my reading list when I am finished with NaNoWriMo this year.

I would also like to recommend to you the Medieval Cookery site. I use Gode Cookery a lot, but Medieval Cookery is just as nice and has plenty of complementary articles and receipts, as well as links to places where period cookbooks are online. There are far more online than one might realize. The online versions are very helpful to me as my period cookbook selection is only about 10-15 manuscripts big, but with the links provided by this site, I have vastly more available to me.

Lastly, a site that lists what foods are in season now: Eat the Seasons. I find it helpful. I also like Think Vegetables, but they don't appear to have a USA counterpart.

On to the cooking.
Our first redaction is the Gourds in Pottage that Giovanna so kindly selected. Yay! Something English! As it happenes, I had pork in the freezer and had purchased a couple of acorn squash at my last trip to the farmer's market. Isobel had cooked one up, but I still had the leftovers and the untouched squash, so that seemed more than enough.

Beside this ingredient list, you see a picture of the pork and the squash, to give you an idea of amount. I didn't weigh either, so I'm not positive regarding how much I used. I think it was about 1 to 1.25 pounds of pork and 1 & 1/2 acorn squash.

My redaction:

7 cups "good broth"
1 lb pork
1 and 1/2 acorn squash
1 onion
"powder douce"

Now, "good broth" and "powder douche" are two of those things that vary from time to place to cook. Here is the Thorngrove discussion on powder douce and other powders; our old friend Gode Cookery has a receipt for "good Broth." As I like to make my own, this is what I did:

The recipe calls for boiled pork, so I set 10 cups of water to boil with a carrot, the pork, an onion, and the following herbs from my garden: sage, thyme, rosemary, bay. All together it was about a handful of herbs. I let this boil down until the pork was tender and then added 1/4 cup of sangria and let the alcohol boil out. I then added a tablespoon of beef base and a teaspoon of vegetable base to give it a robust flavor. I removed the carrots for eating later and left the herbs and onions.


As the squash was already partly cooked, I cut and cleaned the other acorn squash and placed it in the microwave, in a covered dish, to get it to the same cook-stage Isobel had left the other squash in. Thus, I learned something. It's way easier to cook a squash and remove the contents when the squash is completely cooked. But, if you're only partly cooking it, it's way easier to get the squash out of the rind if it's cold rather than if it's hot.

In either event, I noticed that the squash was pretty bland, so I was glad that I'd chosen a broth that was flavorful without being overwhelming.

I then put the squash, the pork, and the powder douce into the pot and let it simmer away!

Now, for powder douche I used a mixture of approximately 1.5 t cinnamon, 2 t ginger, 1/2 t ground cloves, and 3/4 t fennel seed, which I ground in my mortor before adding. I went a little light on the seasoning because the sangria also adds a touch of sweet and spice.

I did not add salt, as there was plenty in the broth from the commercially prepared bases. I did not use eggs, as a result of my allergies. I did not add extra sugar, as the sangria added enough sweet for my taste.

However, just cooking the mixture down was enough to make the squash begin to break down into the broth and this created a thick pottage on its own.

edit, 1 Dec 07: there is a second, meatless redaction of gourds in pottage from me, here.

The side dish is a redaction of Tart of Prunes/Tarte of Damsons from Good Housewife's Jewell.

To make a Tarte of Prunes. Put your Prunes into a pot, and put in red wine or claret wine, and a little faire water, and stirre them now and then, and when they be boyled enough, put them into a bowle, and straine them with sugar, synamon and ginger.

To make a Tarte of Damsons. Take Damsons and seeth them in Wine, and straine them with a little Creame, then yoyle your stuffe over the fire till it be thicke, put thereto, suger, synamon and ginger, put set it not into the Oven after, but let your paste be baked before.

There is not a lot of difference between these two recipes. They could be labeled as the regular and the Lenten version, had England still observed Lent in 1596; what differences are there are minor. One's using fresh plums, the other's using dried plums and adding some extra water. One's going straight to the bowl, the other gets a little cream and a pre-baked pie crust.

It's a surprisingly specific set of recipes, so it was easy to redact into a one person serving.

10 prunes--I just used Aldi's brand.
1 cup of water.
1/2 cup of Sangria
1/8 cup of honey or more
1 t cinnamon
1 t ginger

I had to put the honey in because we're out of sugar; it seemed a reasonable substitute. I can't be sure how much honey it was because it was the end of the bottle. I'd suggest starting out with 1/8 cup and increasing to taste.

I let the prunes, honey, wine, and water boil together until the prunes were sufficiently boiled to be mashed. I tasted it at that stage and it was nothing special. I added the spices and let it cook down to the point that I had mashed plums in syrup. I tasted it at that time and it was frakkin' delicious. It was however a little too jammy for me, so I added just a couple so tablespoons of skim milk as suggested by the second recipe, to make it more like a pudding, and it was even more delicious. I think it would be better as a small side dish accompanying, say, beef or goose, than as a slice of pie, and it worked very well with the bread; however, I did end up putting 3/4 of the portion away. It was quite rich.

So, in the picture you see them plated for one, with bread and wine. This was the first time that I've cooked for this blog and really loved whatever it was I cooked. The gourds in pottage was both sweet and savory and the tarte of prunes was a lovely little treat. The only thing I would change about this meal is that I'd probably serve it with a bitter ale; the sweet wine was a little too much by itself (I usually use sangria to make hypocrys, but never without adding a burgandy to it--it needs to be watered down or otherwise modified as it's too sweet on it's own for my taste and I'd forgotten that), so with the touch of sweet in the foods it was a little overwhelming to the palate. The bitter would have balanced beautifully, and if we ever get a winter site that will allow us to bring in off-board foods, I can definitely see myself eating this meal.

And, hey, did you notice the subtle heraldry? ;-)

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

On Gourds

Market Woman with Vegetable Stall
Oil on wood, 11 x 110 cm
Staatliche Museen, Berlin

Gourd. Courge - Gourd is the name given to many species of the Cucurbitaceae family. Cucurbitaceae pepo include the summer and autumn pumpkins (yellow gourds), the vegetable marrows, and various summer squashes. Cucurbitaceae maxima include the North American winter squashes. Cucurbitaceae moschata include the Canada or cushaw, Quaker or Japanese squashes (or pumpkin). Gourds are one of the oldest vegetables known to man although it is doubtful if any of the many kinds which grow today could be identified with any of the original species. The word gourd is reserved in North America for the decorative inedible variety. Winter and summer squash as well as pumpkin are grown on a very large scale. Winter squash can often be used in place of pumpkin.

Taken from: Larousse Gastronomique, The Encyclopedia of Food, Wine and Cookery, by Prosper Montagne'. Crown Publishers, Inc. New York, 1961. B000B9EJCK

Pretty much any squash that I will have available to me will be a hybrid or an American heirloom variety. For the November recipe I've decided to use one of the varieties of winter squash available from the local growers at the Farmer's Market and see how the recipe turns out.


Tuesday, November 6, 2007

November recipe: Gourdes in Pottage

Original recipe: English, 14th c. Forme of Cury
Squash Cooked in Broth

10. Gourdes in Potage. Take young Gowrdes; pare hem and kerue hem on pecys. Cast hem in gode broth, and do þerto a gode pertye of oynouns mynced. Take pork soden; grynde it and alye it þerwith and wiþ yolkes of ayren. Do þerto safroun and salt, and messe it forth with powdour douce.

- Hieatt, Constance B. and Sharon Butler. Curye on Inglish: English Culinary Manuscripts of the Fourteenth-Century (Including the Forme of Cury). New York: for The Early English Text Society by the Oxford University Press, 1985.

Stewed Gourds. Take young gourds; pare them and cut them in pieces. Put in good broth, and add a large amount of minced onions. Take boiled pork; grind it and add it along with egg yolks. Add saffron and salt, and serve it with powder douce.

I hope this recipe will be fun. It is rather simple, but I thought it could be a clever addition to the Thanksgiving meal.

Start thinking about December's recipe/ or January since some might want to take December off, and you are always welcome to try a recipe in your repertoire and post your redactions on the list.


Tuesday, October 30, 2007

A month goes by really quickly

Here we are on the doorstep of November and I haven't even done October's recipe. Oy.

I do appreciate all those who did embark on the "Cheesy Chicken" dish by Nola. I loved reading all of the different redactions from each cook and I now feel better equipped to visit this dish myself when time permits. Thank you all!

Now is the time to start thinking about November's recipe. I am open to suggestions. Do we want to tackle another Nola recipe or choose another genre? Please make your suggestions in the comments.

Thank you all for your participation in this Cook-A-Long!


Sunday, October 21, 2007


After reading through the recipe about fifty times and discussing it with a coworker who raises chickens and is more familiar with the processing of birds from death to table, I decided to ignore the part about putting the chickens in the coals for a Paternoster. My coworker's theory is that portion of the recipe was used to clean off any stray hairs or other things from the skin.

I used a 3.5 lbs whole chicken for my redaction, I roasted it by cutting it up the backbone, then pushing it until the breast bone snapped and it lay flat on my baking sheet. I find that this method of roasting small chickens evens up the cooking time so that all parts of the bird are done at about the same time. I cooked it at 375 for about an hour, before placing it into the oven I salt and peppered both sides and rubbed it down with olive oil. I also made up a foil packet with two heads of garlic, one soft neck Californian grown garlic and one hard neck locally grown head. The garlic was drizzled with a little olive oil, salt and pepper and then roasted next to the chicken for about 45 minutes.

I have a theory about the bread for this recipe and that is that it was a way to use up hard day old bread. If you soaked fresh bread in broth, it would melt and get icky (technical term). So the day before I made a batch of Mistress Aramanthra's Egg bread. Then I sliced it into nice thick slices and let them sit out to dry out and get hard, before toasting them slowly in a 350 oven for about 30 minutes.

I was unable to find lamb or mutton stock in the store, so I used 1 can of beef broth and 1 can of chicken broth. To take away from the canned flavor of them, I went out to my herb garden and grabbed a handful of thyme, sage and chives and threw that into the pot with the stocks along with 3 peppercorns and some dried parsley. I brought that to a simmer and let the herbs flavor the broth for about 20 minutes before straining them out.

To assemble the dish, I brought the broth up to a simmer and then ladled about 3-4 ladles full of broth over the toast which I had placed into a roasting pan. The chicken was sliced and a mixture of dark and white meat was placed onto the toasts. For the sauce I put all the roasted garlic into my food processor, then I added 4 oz. of chevre, 4 tablespoons of parmesan, and 4 egg yolks. I processed this until it was smooth, then drizzled in two cups of stock to temper the egg yolks. I poured this mixture into what was left of the stock, and stirred it over med-high heat until it had reduced by half and formed a smooth silky sauce. I poured it over the toasts and popped it into the oven to heat everything through.

I found that it tasted very nice. The bread was still quite crunchy and had a lovely texture, the chicken was juicy and the sauce wasn't overwhelming cheesy or overwhelming with garlic. All the flavors blended quite well. This dish even got the 3 year old approval of being yummy. It was a lot of steps, so I don't know if I'll make it again at home just casually, but I can definitely see using it for a feast or making something similar to use up some left overs. My one complaint is that visually, it's very yellow. There isn't a lot of color to add interest. I don't know if that's a modern view, but if I was making it again I'd probably stir some finely chopped chives or parsley into the sauce to add some visual interest to the dish.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

To prepare chicken cookked in the way of the Sarceans,

Greetings from the humble scribe, Merouda Pendray

Today's medieval meal attempt was worthy, but I must be honest and upfront confess that one of the receipts has been interpreted in a way that produces something entirely outside the intended product.

Today's goals:
*Make a meal with products purchased at the farmer's market. I regularly incorporate daily life into my persona play, and I thought it might be interesting to cook based on what I could scout up.

*Create a quiche-type dish that I can eat. I had Amber Day Tart in mind.

And those two goals influenced my choices sufficiently that I ended up making tasty food that a 16th c. individual would recognize, but I can't call them finished redactions, yet.

The only usable things we came away from the market with were freshly laid chicken eggs & leeks. I did briefly consider cooking tomatoes as described by Gerard in his herbal, but I decided against it—this time. Anyway. On to the cooking.

Individual dishes and plated for one.
Click on picture for full view.

I initially wanted to try a couple of different quiche recipes, but I came to my senses and realized that I was never going to be able to handle that much egg without getting sick, nor would Michael enjoy eating that much egg substitute.

The first I wished to try, from Cury on Inglishe, was Tart in ymbre day, but what I actually ended up redacting was the Mushroom Tart in The Goodman of Paris with additional modifications based on the Ymbre Day recipe.

Mushrooms of one night be the best and they be little and red within and closed at the top; and they must be peeled and then washed in hot water and parboiled and if you wish to put them in a pasty add oil, cheese and spice powder.

The second one I wanted to try was this, from Platina:

Make your crust in the way you usually do for pastry; and when it is rolled out, put meal over it so that it can hold up all around, and put it in a pan near the fire to dry out. Then, when you have removed the the meal from the top crust, put in boiled chickens or pigeons cut in morsels, with almond milk, two egg yolks, and a little saffron, ginger, cinnamon, verjuice and rich juice. When it is cooked, take it from the oven and pour over it sugar and rosewater.

First problem: egg yolks. Tons of egg yolks here. Second problem: boiled rather than baked chicken. Ugh. We are not big on the boiled poultry. Third problem: no onions, just leeks. Fourth problem: No herbs I want to use—everything still viable in the garden is overwhelming. The Rue is still going strong, but we are not eating it. Next, the Michael man is going to have to be led up to eating fruit and onions

So, and to this very moment I am not sure what free-floating brain chemical became this idea, I decided that I would deal with the egg problem by trying to make one egg + ¼ egg substitute + ½ cup milk go the distance for both recipes.

Additional inspiration for the end products come from Ymbre day tart recipe quoted on Godecookery and a recipe from a 1381 manuscript called Ancient Cookery and cited in Seven Centuries of English Cooking by Maxime de la Falaise.

The meal, then, is a synthesis. Be absolutely aware of that. Have I warned you enough yet?

Okay, so, first, the chicken. It occurred to me that all the ingredients could be used to make a nice breading and the milk and egg mixture would function as the wash that would hold the breading to the poultry. So I mixed up the milk and egg. The breading was made from ¾ cup crushed crackers, about 1 tsp cinnamon, about 1 tsp ginger, about ¼ cup ground almonds. I omitted saffron as I didn't have any. I dipped the chicken in the milk-egg mixture, covered it wit the crumb mixture, and set the wings into a 350 degree oven to roast until done.

All the ingredients I had available to me from the chicken pie recipe are there, but it's plainly not a pie. It would occur to me later that the idea for breading the chicken came from the 1381 recipe “For to make a bruet of Sarcynesse.” I'd experimented with that recipe some months ago, and had the memory of the breaded beef patties baking away somewhere in the back of my brain.

We sprinkled the roasted wings with rose water and tucked in; it was actually very good, and it strikes me as a nice item for the traveling lunch. I think, however, that I could move it just a little closer to the original recipe by placing the chicken pieces close to each other in the bottom of a baking pan, pour about ½ the egg-milk mix over the chicken and covering it with the crumb mixture. One could then invert it on to a plate and have something closer to a pie for serving. However the individual pieces are very handy for serving and storing.

Next, the Amber Day Tart. The fairly quick realization that something with leeks and fruit was not going to go over well with Miguel-san made me start looking for other “vegetable in cheese” pies that could suggest substitutions that would be acceptable on the table.

Godecookery came to my rescue with a mushroom tart that is in about the same time frame as Cury on English and so I ended up doing the mushroom tart with lots of leeks added.

So, the tart is in a commercially prepared crust, and I prebaked it. I cut up two leeks and opened a can of mushrooms (as the mushrooms above are peeled and parboiled). I sauteed it all in about 2 tablespoons of olive oil then grated 2 oz of farmer's cheese (leftovers used up, baybe!) and 3 oz of sharp cheddar. I placed the vegetables, the leftover breadcrumb/spice mixture, and the cheeses into the piecrust, then poured the remaining egg/milk mix over the whole thing. I baked it at 350 degrees until the cheese melted.

On the whole, it worked well. I liked it but decided that it needed more milk/egg mixture; Michael felt it needed more mushrooms, and fresh ones, at that. The thing that took me, though, was the effect of the commercial pie crust. Ugh. Too greasy. I'd no idea they were that fatty—although, it could just be that my taste for fat is so changed that I notice it so much more these days.

It's plated out for a meal for one with fruit juice (sorry, no wine!), the ever present beets, and yogurt. MMMmmmmmmMMMMmmmm.

Suggestions solicited!

Monday, October 1, 2007

To cook a hen in the way of the Spaniard called Nola

This was our supper tonight. This is plated for 2, but it does a good job of showing how someone might cope with such a high fat recipe--balance the meal with a lot of vegetables and fruit. Another grain would have been nice but I was too pressed for time tired to cook any more and really, there is plenty to eat here. :-)

To cook the main dish--the redaction of almondrote que es capirotada--I used:

2 Cornish Game Hens
3/4 a loaf of Breadsmith's Rosemary Garlic Ciabatta
4 cups of broth
--broth made with:
---bouquet garni of lovage, sage, rosemary, bay
---6 cups water
---2 teaspoons chicken base
---1 teaspoon vegetable base
---1 teaspoon beef base
---dripping from hens
-----this was boiled down to create 5 cups of broth. 4 of which went into the redaction.
2 heads of garlic
3/4 lbs of shredded, low fat farmer's cheese
1/4 cup egg substitute
1 tsp bacon grease
olive oil as needed

I split the hens in half and put them under the broiler while I peeled the garlic. When the garlic was peeled, I put about a tablespoon of olive oil in a pan, threw the garlic cloves into the oil, covered it, and popped it into the oven to roast. I then moved the hen halves from the broiler to a baking pan and roasted them at 350 degrees F. While that roasted, I toasted the chibatta (chosen mostly because we just are not eating it fast enough and I thought the rosemary in the bread might complement the poultry), shredded the cheese (chosen because it's a fresh, slightly sour cheese that can be found in a low-fat version and seems to me similar in taste to the simple, fresh goat cheeses I have had), and blended the broth. There isn't a lot of mutton stock in my grocery store, and I didn't want a broth that was obviously beef or chicken or vegetable, so I tried to blend something that was tasty and not obviously one or the other. I basted the hens once with the bacon grease and the rest of the time just basted them with their own juices.

When the garlic and hens were finished roasting, I prepared the sauce. I just mashed the garlic in the roasting pan as this would use the roasting olive oil as a substitute for the bad, bad lard suggested by the receipt. I added the egg substitute, 1/2 lb of cheese, and 2 cups of broth and noted that the sauce looked like.... em... something Miguel would not eat if it kept on looking like that.

So I warmed the sauce to make your average cheese sauce.

I placed the bread into the bottom of a baking pan and poured the remaining 2 cups of broth over it; this soaked the bread. I did not choose to bone the hens or layer the meat and the bread. Instead, I placed the hen halves over the bread and poured the sauce over it all. I sprinkled the remaining cheese over the dish and popped it back into the oven to melt.

I intended to leave it long enough to let the cheese get toasted but we were too hungry, so we took it out when the middle of the cheese was melty and bubbly and the edges were toasted.

We each deboned our own hen and I pulled the skin out of mine before eating. I wanted to leave the skin in for flavor, and Miguel certainly can eat it, but I shouldn't, so leaving the hens intact worked well for us.

The other components of the meal were:
Brussels sprouts cooked per the receipt on godecokery, here
Pickled beets, mushrooms, cucumbers
Really wonderful antique variety russet apples and a pink pearl apple.*
White wine

Even with the removal of the egg yolk and lard, the minimal use of bacon fat, the substitution of a low fat cheese and the use of nicely unsaturated olive oil in places where fat is needed, this is a pretty high fat recipe. Michael liked it a lot, and I thought it was okay. I'm not sure the step for broiling was needed, and I might try a whole grain bread next time. I'm also not sure that the egg substitute proved enough of a binding/thickening agent in the sauce to make it worth adding; you might be able to skip that if you are not going to use egg yolk. I'm also not convinced that the single tsp of bacon grease I included made a flavor difference; next time, I'd just baste in the hen's drippings.

*There is a local orchard that grows antique apples including several period varieties. Unfortunately, their White Pearmain died this year, but cort pendu plat and Caville Blanc d'Hiver are about to come in season, so hopefully I can get a bunch to experiment with in some period receipts.

Sunday, September 30, 2007


Howdy! This is Gwyneth, from Northshield, and I also redacted and made this recipe today. I realize, as I read over this, that it is long, and I apologize for my verbosity.

I'm going to talk first about my ingredient choices, for just a moment. A little on-line research seemed to indicate that guinea fowl or Cornish game hens were probably the best replacement for pigeon, and for expediency sake (the store on the way home from work sells them fresh) I got the Cornish game hens. I used two whole hens.

I spent a lot of time considering the cheese. I wrote to two Spanish cheese importers, asking if there was a substitute widely available in the US as a replacement for the Cheese of Aragon, and was told simply no. I ended up using a Spanish cheese from Trader Joe's called Iberica, a semi-hard cheese made with a mixture of sheep, goat and cow's milk.

The bread was the other thought-provoking thing for me. After toasting, but before preparing, it says to "scald or soak" the bread in broth before assembling. I wanted something that would toast nicely and stay a little crunchy - I really dislike mushy bread stuff. So I ended up using an Italian ciabatta. It stayed together nicely during the assembly, and even retained a little crunch on the crust after soaking and being covered with sauce.

I chose beef broth instead of mutton or chicken - I couldn't find commercially available mutton broth, but thought it would have a stronger flavor than chicken, so I went with beef.

I realized, as I was making this, that I didn't have the garlic cloves at home as I had thought, and I wasn't in a position to go to the store, so I used some minced garlic from the fridge, roasted in a custard cup while the game hens were roasting. I think I got a very similar result.

Here's what I used:

2 Cornish Game hens
2 cups beef broth, separated
2 cloves garlic, roasted (or 1 1/4 Tsp, minced)
1/2 loaf ciabatta bread, sliced (about 14-16 slices would be right for this amount of meat, I think)
4 oz Iberica cheese, grated
2 egg yolks
1 Tbsp lard
Salt and pepper to taste

I roasted the game hens in a 350 oven for about an hour, or until done. I sprinkled them with salt and pepper almost instinctively before I roasted them. When they were done, I cooled a little and then sliced the meat off the bones. The skin did not come out attractively, so I ended up taking the skin off before using it.

While the meat was roasting, I roasted the garlic in the same oven for about the last 15 minutes. I also sliced my bread, and set it on the oven racks to toast.

I used a beef bouillon to make the broth, so I heated two cups of water to almost boiling and mixed in the bouillon. I then set aside 1/2 cup of the broth for the toast. I put the larger amount of broth, garlic, cheese and two egg yolks into the blender, and mixed until smooth.

At that point I thought I had made a horrible mistake. It smelled awful, and the broth really came through overwhelmingly. Ick. But I was determined to try it all the way through. I did, however, decide to heat the sauce up, because it had cooled substantially. I heated it carefully over medium heat just until it was steaming, and added the tablespoon of lard, stirring it in until it was melted.

I soaked the bread in the extra broth, and made stacks of bread/meat/bread/meat/bread. I poured a ladle-full of sauce over it, and sat down to try my feast. It was . . . underwhelming. But it better than it smelled earlier. I ate my first little stack, thought about it, and went back for a second.

I have to admit, I decided everything is better with a little salt and pepper, so I added some before sitting down to try the second taste.

Something happened, between the first and second tastes. I don't think it was only the salt and pepper, I think it was the sauce actually melding. But it was substantially better. In fact, I might even say it was good. I went back for a third taste, and it was still pretty good.

So there ends my saga. I don't know that I would add this to my everyday dinner rotation, as I would some other medieval recipes that my family likes. But I would make it for a medieval event.

Monday, September 24, 2007

almondrote que es capirotada, redaction

I am posting this by proxy, enjoy.

My name is Bronwen Ferq Lloid and I am a member of the Shire of Cum an Iolair's cooks guild. We had a cooks night on the 13th of September and included the almondrote que es capirotada recipe in our menu for the evening.

Here is our redaction:
4 chicken thighs
2 boneless chicken breasts
8 oz of feta cheese
2 eggs
2 heads of garlic
2 cups chicken broth
1 loaf of crusty bread
salt and pepper to taste
Put the chicken pieces in a baking pan and salt and pepper the skin. bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes to an hour.
While chicken is baking peel all the garlic cloves from the 2 heads of garlic and put them in a shallow pot with about 1 1/2 tablespoons of olive oil. Cover and cook the garlic slowly until the cloves are soft like butter. (do not fry them we want to simulate roasting the garlic but much faster)
While garlic and chicken are cooking in a blender or food processor put feta cheese and eggs and slowly blend in warm chicken broth until sauce is creamy. Set aside.
Cut the bread into 3/4 inch slices and put into a baking pan. When chicken comes out of the oven put bread into broil. 1-2 minutes on each side.
Skin and bone the chicken. In another baking pan (we used a 9x13) layer cheese sauce, bread, chicken and continue until all is layered together ending with sauce. Put in the oven at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes and then serve.

I chose dark meat chicken instead of partridge because of cost and availability. I chose feta cheese because most Spanish cheeses are goat of sheep's milk cheeses and you can get feta anywhere. I think I am going to try this again and use French chevre cheese instead of feta. We pan roasted the garlic because of time constraints.
I felt that this was a wonderful tasty and fairly easy dish.

Some of the comments from the evening where:
Fiona, "I can see this as a feast meal. Toast bread put on sliced chicken then some sauce and rewarm. We ate half the pan and there were just 4 of us here."
Marguerite, "Very tasty dish-savory- I think it would be good with Cornish game hens instead of chicken. I would be interested to see how a different cheese choice would change the quality of the sauce."

Bronwen Ferq Lloid
butterflydeb915 at yahoo dot com

Sunday, September 23, 2007

To seeth fresh salmon

Good morrow, gentle friends: ye omble scribe Merouda Pendray greets you.

I do a lot of cooking on my own, just because I like to experiment with medieval cooking and I often find event offerings are not able to adequately meet either my curiosity, my desire for authenticity, or my dietary issues.

This fine fall afternoon I'm trying a salmon recipe cited in Lorna Sass's "To the Queen's Taste" and on Godecookery at In truth, I am essentially following the Godecokery redaction, except I have substituted bay leaves for parsley (as I have no parsley) and am using fresh herbs--bay, rosemary, thyme--from my garden. I have also cooked the fish on the stovetop, low fire, as it will make the house too hot to use the oven, and there's nothing in the original that states "put it in dish and cover it wH coles until it be done enow" or some such thing.

The sauce doesn't seem to affect the taste much. Essentially, there is not much difference in the taste from a decent brand of canned salmon. The flesh is a bit nicer in texture. But it's ready for a meal, and we'll see how it goes.

Also on the stove: turnip greens. I briefly glanced at Goodcokery for a turnip green receipt, and only found a mention that "women know how to cook that so I'm not putting it in my cookbook." So I grazed through my Platina and noted a couple of recipes for unspecified "herbs". The greens are on the stove now with a bit of sugar and olive oil, and I'm thinking a bit of mustard with the salmon, another dose of oil on the greens, and some rice might make a nice little late period supper for us. I'll edit this later to record how it all came out.

Edt, 3:17 PM

There's the meal. The salmon was fine with a subtle touch of mustard. The turnip greens were really, really bitter, and I spent some time digging through my period cookbooks looking for evidence of greens (spinach, potherbs, whatever, something other than cabbage [i.e., marry cabboges]) cooked with a milk/yogurt sauce in order to ease the bitterness, but most of my reputable sources only offered a butter sauce.

So, I cooked two pounds of turnip greens in a change of water, with the second change of water containing some sugar and some olive oil, based on two receipts in Platina, titled simply, "Brew."


Plunge herbs into boiling water and take them out again immediately and cut them up finely. When they have been cut up, then grind them in a mortar. When they are well pounded, let them boil until they are cooked, after adding sugar in the right amount.


Herbs are cut up and cooked as was said before, and simmered in rich juice either from meat or oil and butter.

Once the greens were boiled, I drained them and added butter. However, the bitterness was still so great that I ended up mixing the greens with the rice on the plate. The combination of the bitter, buttered herbs and bland rice was enough to make a reasonably tasty side dish, if not precisely what the receipt called for.

The beets are commercially prepared, added to the meal because I totally love beets and beets are period. ;-)

Suggestions for modifying this meal completely welcome. One of the things that will be apparent in my posts is that I have need to follow a modified fat, low-egg, low-soy regime, so many of my choices in redacting will be about cooking foods that are both recognizable to medieval person and tasty to a person who can't use egg yolks, should use olive oils or fat-free yogurts rather than butter, et cetera. This would be why I was looking for a herbs in a dairy sauce receipt, but the only thing I had to hand with lots of vegetables (cabbage, onions, spinach) in dairy sauce would be
SALLETS, HUMBLES, & SHREWSBURY CAKES, hardly the best respected cookbook out there.


Friday, September 14, 2007

Moorish Eggplant

Hello Everyone!

I'm working on a feast (Calontir's Crown Tourney, Nov 3rd) which I've decided to do along a late period Spanish theme. I'm getting 90% of my recipes from De Nola. Which is why the recipe I suggested for this month just happens to be a De Nola recipe which also just happens to be on my feast menu. :) Funny how that happens! I'll be trying the Almondrote tonight.

Last night I redacted another one of my recipes. Here's the original:

Peel the eggplants and quarter them, and their skins having been peeled, set them to cook; and when they are well-cooked, remove them from the fire, and then squeeze them between two wooden chopping blocks, so they do not retain water. And then chop them with a knife. And let them go to the pot and let them be gently fried, very well, with good bacon or with sweet oil, because the Moors do not eat bacon. And when they are gently fried, set them to cook in a pot and cast in good fatty broth, and the fat of meat, and grated cheese which is fine, and above all, ground coriander; and then stir it with a haravillo like gourds; and when they are nearly cooked, put in egg yolks beaten with verjuice, as if they were gourds.

And here's my redaction:

1 eggplant
1 tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 cups veggie broth
4 oz grated cheese
1/2 tsp ground coriander
2 egg yolks
1 tsp white wine vinegar

Peel and chop the eggplant into rough chunks. Boil in water for 10-15 minutes, drain. Press eggplant between two cutting boards to remove excess water. Then mince fine.

Heat the oil in a frying pan, and add the eggplant. Fry on a medium or medium low heat for about 10-15 minutes and all the oil is absorbed. Put the eggplant in a sauce pan (or leave in the fry pan if it's got decently high sides) and add the coriander, broth, and cheese and bring to a simmer. Stir frequently and encourage the eggplant to fall apart further. Again, the liquid should absorb and/or evaporate. While cooking, whisk the egg yolks with the vinegar. Once it is all cooked throughly, and the eggplant is nice and mushy, add in the eggs and blend well. Serve warm.

This would serve 4 as a side dish, 2 hungry people, or a table of 8 in feast type circumstances.

I changed it to veggie broth instead of meat to ensure I had some vegetarian dishes, and I didn't add the extra fat for modern concerns/tastes. Plus, I'll have enough fat in the other dishes... Oy! De Nola does love his cheese and bacon. It was really good with a surprisingly mild flavor. I like it a lot. I will use a different cheese however. Since cheese is not a really good diet food, and I'm trying to lose weight, I don't have much in the house, and what I had was some Queso Blanco I bought for another recipe, and it really didn't work in this. It stayed like little cheesy semi-melted chunks and never really incorporated into the rest of the dish. I think I'd like to try it with a mix of Parmesan and mozzarella. Something nice and melty and something with a hint of a stronger flavor.

What do you think? Comments? Suggestions? Have a different redaction? I'd love to hear them!

-Gwen A'Brooke

Thursday, September 6, 2007

October 2007 recipe, Almodrote que es Capirotada


You shall take partridges and after they have been well-plucked, put them between the embers; and when they have been there for the space of a Paternoster (33), take them out and clean everything off them, and roast them, and baste them sufficiently with your bacon fat; and when they are roasted, cut them as if to make portions of them, and then grate good cheese of Aragon that is fine; and take two whole heads of garlic roasted between the embers and then peel them very well and cleanly, and grind them in a mortar; and then put the cheese in the mortar, and resume grinding it all together; and while you are grinding them, cast a good spoonful of lard into the mortar, with some egg yolks, and grind it all together; and when it is all well-ground, blend it with good mutton broth that is half cooled, because if it were very hot it would consume the cheese; and then make slices of bread and toast them, and scrape off the burnt parts, and then scald or soak these toasted slices of bread with good mutton broth in an earthenware bowl or a deep plate; and then take them out and put them on a large plate, all around, in this manner: a layer of bread slices, and another of partridges, and in this manner fill up the plate with a platform of bread slices and another of partridges; and when the plate is full, cast the almodrote on top of it all and then take melted lard and scatter it over the plate.

This recipe is from "Libre del Coch", 1529, by Ruperto de Nola, English translation by Robin Carroll-Mann."

Welcome to the Cook-A-Long

Greetings cooking enthusiasts!

The purpose of this blog is to provide a virtual kitchen, of sorts. With our virtual kitchen we can explore Medieval and Renaissance cooking texts, share out findings, tips, triumphs and even failers. The nice thing is we can do it at our liesure in the comfort of our home kitchens.

The plan is to have a new recipe posted each month (or every other month) and each of us will have that month to prepare this dish. You may work alone, in groups, as a guild, it is up to you. Please share what you have learned for this list is meant to serve as a teaching tool as we continue to grow in our culinary skills.

While we will have "official" recipes for each month, please feel free to share any redactions that you have been working on. As always, please include the original recipe, translation and which book/ article/ etc. that you got the recipe from, it's origins and original writer.

The comment section is open to everyone, but if you wish to be an author of this blog, please contact me privately so that you may be added.


Maestra Giovanna di Battista da Firenze (OL Pavilions, Cooking and Clothing)
Kingdom of Northshield
Barony of Nordskogen