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.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
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.
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].
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 http://cunnan.sca.org.au/ 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. ;-)
I was just plonking around on http://cunnan.sca.org.au/ 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. ;-)
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