Imitating Life through Art (or vice versa)

"Paste," but not like glue

Thu, 07 May 2009 14:06:41 GMT

M. and I are sloooowly resurfacing, after quite a few months of being crazed at work and generally worn out. I think we both figured we had to get adjusted to our new jobs, but I know I didn’t think it would take quite this long! But slowly, surely, we’re normalizing.

This weekend, we’re both going up for a melee event in Maryland – M. will get to hit new & different people with a stick, and I will probably go and have lunch with my folks during the day (it is Mothers’ Day weekend, after all) but go back to the site for court. Last week I taught a class on choux paste at Thursday’s A&S meeting; in case anyone’s interested, here’s the handout. (The first page was a general discussion of choux pastry, while the second was the recipe we made during class.)

Choux Pastry/Pate a Choux

Choux pastry (pronounced just like "shoe") is most commonly used for cream puffs and éclairs. However, it has lots of other savory and sweet uses, both modern and historical. Choux pastry is one of the easier and more impressive types of pastry to make, and it’s incredibly versatile. The dough can be piped into small round buns, long "fingers" for éclairs, or mounded with a spoon for rougher puff shapes. After baking or frying it can be piped full of pastry cream or pudding, split and filled with ice cream or a savory mousse, or used as part of a more complex dessert (Gateau St.-Honoré is a classic and mind-boggling example.)

Choux pastry is sometimes described as twice-cooked pastry, since it’s the only pastry that is cooked on the stovetop and then baked or fried: the flour/water paste is cooked and stirred to partially dry it out before the eggs are beaten in. This leaves the dough with the right amount of moisture so that it will puff up and rise in the oven, but also hold its form when cooled. It’s important to make sure the pastry is cooked thoroughly – it should be darkening from golden to golden-brown before it’s removed from the oven – or else it will be too moist inside and collapse. Very disappointing.

History

Like many other pastries, there are recipes that share choux pastry’s name but seem to be for very different foods, and other recipes with different names for something quite similar to what we now call choux pastry. Some earlier recipes refer to "profiteroles" (by various spellings), which today are one specific dessert made from choux pastry; other recipes have completely different names.

Whatever its name, it seems very likely that choux pastry was a late-period innovation. I’ve seen dozens of references to its invention by Panterelli, head chef to Catherine de’Medici, in 1540; he is supposed to have traveled with her to the court of the Duke of Orleans, then seven years later invented choux paste and named his creation Pâte à Panterelli. Sadly (suspiciously?) I can’t find any actual documentation to support his claim. However, there are several late-period recipes that seem similar to choux pastry. One good example is in the 1553 Das Kochbuch der Sabina Welserin:

"To make Spritzgebackens: Take one quart of water or milk for a meal and put it into a pan. Bring it to a boil, stir good flour into it, so that the dough becomes fairly dry, take it out of the pan, roll it out well, but with additional flour, put it into a mortar, blend it well with eggs, until it becomes good and sticky, put it in a pastry bag, fry them slowly."

Although there are some differences, the essential steps are the same: water is boiled, flour is stirred in and cooked until dry, eggs are beaten in, and then the dough is cooked a second time. This recipe would probably make pastries very similar to beignets or fried choux fritters.

If you should run into anything documenting poor Chef Panterelli’s claim to fame, I’d love to hear about it. Otherwise, I think it’s safe to assume that choux pastry did originate late in our period – but Panterelli may have had nothing to do with it.

Gougeres

Gougères are a classic French use of choux pastry: shredded mild cheese is added after the eggs are beaten into the flour/water paste. This is one of the simplest ways to use choux pastry, since the choux buns don’t need to be filled – they can be eaten as-is. If you want sweet pastry instead, use a bit more sugar, increase the butter to ½ cup, and leave out the cheese. (This recipe is adapted, with a few changes, from Le Cordon Bleu: Dessert Techniques, Laurent Duchene & Bridget Jones.)

Ingredients

-1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
-small pinch salt (more if butter is unsalted)
-small pinch sugar
-3 tbsp. butter, cut up into bits
-1 cup water or water/milk mixture
-4 eggs
-1 cup grated mild cheese

1. Preheat oven to 425 F, and line a baking sheet or two with parchment paper.

2. Heat the water, salt, sugar, and butter in a medium-large saucepan over high heat until water boils. Turn heat down to low and immediately tip in all the flour. Stir until a ball forms and clings together; continue to stir and cook for about 5 more minutes or until dough is somewhat dry and still very smooth. Remove pan from the heat and let cool about 15 minutes.

3. One at a time, add the eggs to the dough. After each egg is added, beat the dough very well with a wooden spoon until the egg is completely incorporated. At first the dough will break up and look slimy, but then it will smooth back out as you keep stirring. After all eggs are completely stirred in, add the cheese and stir until combined.

4. On the paper-lined baking sheet, pipe (using a ½-inch round nozzle) or spoon the dough into rounds that are about 1 ½ to 2 inches across. Make sure to leave at least 2 inches between the rounds, so they can expand. Use a damp fingertip to smooth any peaks or rough edges. Stick the gougères in the oven for 10 minutes, then reduce the heat to 350 F and continue cooking for another 10-20 minutes until the outsides are golden-brown and crisp. (How long depends on the size of the gougères.)

5. Cool the gougères on a rack, or in the oven with the door propped open. Some people cut a small slit in the bottoms of each gougère to let the steam out, but I’ve never found that makes much of a difference. Serve within the next couple hours, or store in an airtight container and re-crisp in a 350 F oven for 5 minutes.

(If you don’t like beating the eggs in by hand, try the food-processor method that Rose Levy Beranbaum describes in The Pie and Pastry Bible: transfer the cooked flour/water paste to a food processor with a metal blade. With the feed tube open to let steam out, process for 15 seconds. Add all the eggs at once, and process for 30 more seconds.)

I think the class was a lot of fun; choux pastry comes together pretty quickly and is easy to explain, so we were done with the first discussion and the gougères within an hour and a half. Just for fun, we decided to make profiteroles (Kaleeb had the ingredients, including the ice cream, and very nicely let me make a mess of her kitchen a second time in the same evening….) The profiteroles didn’t turn out quite as nicely as the gougères, but they seemed more popular – probably because of the ice cream. :-)

A little ways back, M. taught a cheese class, which covered some pretty interesting material. (I didn’t make it to the class itself, but I spent a lot of time looking over her shoulder while she wrote the handout… Did you know a lot of historical cheeses seem to have used eggs to "curdle" the milk, kind of like a custard that’s overcooked? Me neither. But there were several recipes that seemed to point that way.) Maybe I’ll ask if I can post her handout, in fact.

Meanwhile, not surprisingly, I’m still working on the gold 4-panel gown; I’ve gotten it patterned, working on basting together the panels and the bodice lining, and really hoping that it’ll fit as well as the pattern did. (The sleeves were a real pain, and so was the fitting itself – for once I find myself wishing I were flatter-chested. I don’t have much experience with draping, and getting the front pieces to fit right without darts was tricky. They still probably won’t lie quite how I want, but hopefully it’ll be close enough.) I’m still dithering about how I want to close it: sew in tiny little eyelets and lace/sew it, or go for buttons, or….? Eyelets are probably winning, but I’m trying not to think about it much because they’re going to be a pain.

And today’s good news: Kim (a friend who lived nearby) butchered her rabbits recently, and she’s giving me one of the pelts to tan!! It’s a slightly imperfect pelt, but that’s good, since it’ll be my first time tanning anything and I’m sure it will be even more "imperfect" when I’m done with it. Frankly, I think I’d be pretty intimidated if I started with a spotlessly white hide.

I’m probably going to tan it using a relatively modern chemical recipe, instead of going for a period method – although I think I’ll look around a bit first and see. But this is something where I’m inclined to start easy, and then go for more complex once I get a feel for it. I’m really looking forward to it, though; even though M. thinks I’m crazy, I think it’ll be a lot of fun.

St. Luke's Photos

Sun, 26 Oct 2008 18:54:13 GMT

OK, I looked at Tir-y-Don's website and found that some enterprising soul had already put up lots of wonderful photos of displays at St. Luke's. Here are some of the things I was talking about earlier, for anyone who wasn't there:

Addie's Viking dress & necklace (don't know if I mentioned it before or not, but it was neat...so was getting to see parts of the process as she has researched & put it together)

Two pictures of the display on early Spanish chocolate, by Beatriz de la Oya

A really nifty project on needle cases by Lady Blitha of Wolfhou

Cheeeeese!

Julie's handspun/woven/etc fibers

The printing press!

Viking bed, with attendant child now awake

And a couple pictures of my stuff:

Overview of part of the rosemary display, plus a close-up on a couple items

Lead sheets before and after the pigment-making reaction

Copper (also) before and after

Full gallery of these photos is here.

Full disclosure: these are not my pictures. I'm linking to them because they are publicly posted, but I do not know who they belong to. Etc. Etc.

ETA: by sheer dumb luck, I stumbled across reabhecc's pictures from yesterday...and they include a nice picture that shows just about all of my rosemary display (at least, before I actually brought in the fish). Very cool!

St. Luke's (cont'd)

Sun, 26 Oct 2008 18:19:05 GMT

I am so glad I copied that before hitting "post;" otherwise, LJ would have just eaten a really long entry. Ack. Anyhow:

So the second challenge was Mistress Jadwiga's "Take This Herb." Here's the documentation:

“Take This Herb”

Lady Rebekah of Samandar
a.k.a. Rebecca Simmons

Autumn XLIII (2008)

The Challenge:

Pick an herb used in the middle ages. Write a short (<8 pages) description of its uses based on at least 3 period texts. Manufacture at least 5 products that would have been made using this herb before 1650; document your process and the logic of using the herbs you chose.

Rosemary

Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) is an easy-to-grow evergreen herb native to the Mediterranean area. Since prehistory it has been an ever-present kitchen and stillroom herb, eventually spreading throughout Europe and beyond. Rosemary’s distinct, resinous scent and its deserved reputation for preserving meats probably first led to its use in cooking. The sharp clean aroma and preservative properties may also contribute to its reputation as a memory enhancer, and its use as a rejuvenating ingredient in non-food preparations (infusions, syrups, or even charms).

Rosemary in the Kitchen

Despite its many historical purposes, food is probably rosemary’s most familiar use. Today it seasons meat and poultry dishes, which partially reflect its historical use. Rosemary’s reputation as a preservative may be somewhat backed by science, since its high levels of antioxidants seem to naturally fight spoilage. It is not surprising, then, that early recipes tend to call for rosemary as a seasoning for all kinds of meats.

The Good Housewife’s Jewel, an English cookery book from the late sixteenth century, calls for rosemary in a very familiar setting – as a seasoning for a chicken stew. Along with rosemary, the recipe calls for a collection of both common and unexpected ingredients:

“Take a strong broth…and put into it rosemary, parsley, and thyme, and four leaves of sage. This let seethe in it a good while. Then put into it small raisins and a few whole mace […] Strain [in] eggs with a little of the same broth and verjuice. Have a little marrow cut in small pieces and an apple cut in small pieces.” (Dawson p. 12)

When cooked with red or gamy meat, rosemary was sometimes included with spicier or stronger seasonings; for instance, the Jewel also includes a recipe for baked “red deer” that calls for rosemary along with bay, savory, and fennel.

I readily associate rosemary with roasted or boiled meats and poultry, but I was surprised to find it in several fish recipes. I first thought that rosemary’s strong aroma would overwhelm the other flavors of the sauce or fish, but the other sauce ingredients seemed strong enough to balance the rosemary. Pepper, fruit, and strong spices were often included, along with white or even red wine. For instance, a recipe for sauced pike with white wine from The Good Housewife’s Jewel reads:

“First seethe the pike in water and salt, with rosemary, parsley, and thyme. Then take the best of the broth and put [it] into a little pot. Put thereto the ruffilt [reflect?] of the pike, small raisins, whole mace, whole pepper, twelve or thirteen dates, a good piece of butter, a goblet of white wine, and a little yeast. When they have boiled a good while put in a little vinegar, sugar, and ginger. So serve the pike with the ruffilt and broth upon sops.” (Dawson p. 27)

In the earlier Le Menagier de Paris (14th century), rosemary also makes an appearance in a sauce for fish:

“White or Green Garlic Sauce for birds or beef. Grind a clove of garlic and white untoasted bread-crumbs, and soak in white verjuice; and if you want it green for fish, grind in some parsley and sorrel or one of these and rosemary.” (Le Menagier)

As well as being tasty, this sauce may have played a role in preserving the fish—an earlier Northern-European cookbook gives a recipe for a similar sauce, and instructions on how to use it for preserving meat:

“One takes cloves and nutmeg, cardamom, pepper, cinnamon – that is canel – and ginger, all in equal amounts, except that there should be as much canel as all the other spices; and add twice as much toasted bread as of everything else, and grind them all together, and blend with strong vinegar, and place in a cask…. Game should then be added to it with a little salt. And it lasts for three weeks. In this manner one can preserve venison, geese, or ducks.” (Libellus p. 31)

With the exception of the specific herbs involved, these sauces are fairly similar: both are vinegar-based, seasoned, and thickened with bread. (This is in contrast to other contemporary sauces, which include pressed oils and broths thickened with fruit, eggs, or even bone marrow, seasoned or unseasoned.) While it is only speculation to suggest that the garlic rosemary sauce may also have been used to preserve meat, it is certainly possible. If this were the case, rosemary – with its preservative abilities - would have worked well with the vinegar and garlic to create a sauce that was both strongly flavored and a strong preservative.

Curious about how these bold flavors tasted with fish, I decided to try simple redactions of rosemary-poached pike and green garlic sauce. The green garlic sauce was fairly straightforward to redact, while the fish was a little more complex:

Green-Garlic Sauce (for fish)
-1 clove garlic
-about 1 slice fresh soft white (French or Italian) bread, crust removed
-several generous pinches fresh parsley (around 2 tablespoons)
-several generous pinches fresh rosemary (around 2 tablespoons)
-a couple teaspoons white wine vinegar, or to taste

1. Crumble or tear the bread into small bits, and coarsely chop the rosemary and
garlic (this will make them easier to grind together).

2. In a mortar and pestle, grind the garlic until it is beginning to form a paste.
Add the parsley and rosemary and grind until they are mostly ground in (some bits of the herbs will stay intact). If it becomes too difficult to grind, add a little vinegar.

3. Once herbs are mostly ground, grind in breadcrumbs and vinegar to form a
soft medium-green paste. Thin with more vinegar or water, if desired.

The only real substitution I have made in the redaction is white-wine vinegar for verjuice, which is much more difficult for a modern cook to find. However, white-wine vinegar is a reasonable substitute in most recipes, although it can be a little more sour than verjuice (so the recipe may taste better when finished with a little water rather than more vinegar). As I expected, this is a strong, sharp sauce; however, the vinegar seems to temper the garlic’s heat so the flavor is not unpleasant. I imagine it would be especially good with strong or oily fish, such as salmon, so the sharpness of the vinegar and herbs could counter the richness of the fish. (In the interests of food safety, though, I have put out bread for sampling with the sauce rather than fish.)

I also redacted the recipe for pike with white wine and rosemary:

Poached Pike (or whitefish) with Herb and White Wine Sauce
-fillets of pike or other firm white fish, 2 large or 3-4 small, cut into serving pieces
-“spare parts” from the same fish or other white fish (heads, tails, fins, bones – from 1 larger fish or 2 smaller fish)
-water
-1/2 tsp. salt, or to taste
-1 tbsp. fresh thyme
-2 tbsp. fresh parsley, chopped before measuring
-2 tbsp. fresh rosemary, chopped before measuring
-1 nutmeg (nutmeg and mace are from the same plant so the seed is the same)
-6 or 7 peppercorns, bruised but not crushed
-12 dates
-1 tablespoon raisins
-1/2 cup medium-dry white wine
-2 tbsp. butter (you may want to omit butter if you plan to serve cold)
-pinch of sugar
-pinch of ground ginger
-1 to 2 tsp. white wine vinegar

1. Fill a broad, medium-deep pan with enough water to comfortable cover fish fillets in a single layer. (Do not put fish in to cook yet – estimate the water depth.) Add salt and chopped herbs to the water, and bring to a boil.

2. Add fish fillets to boiling water and immediately reduce heat to medium-low or low. Water should cover fish by at least ½”, ideally closer to an inch; if it does not then add a little hot water. The water should stay at a very low simmer. Cook slowly for around 8-12 minutes or until fish is cooked through – do not let it boil or overcook, since it will get mushy. (If it does, though, just remove the fish, use the broth for the rest of the recipe, and bake or poach some more fish for serving.)

3. After fish is done, carefully remove it from broth using a spatula. Set it on a plate, cover, and keep warm. Add fish bones/heads, the nutmeg, peppercorns, dates, raisins, wine, and butter to the broth. Stir, bring to a boil, and keep at a low boil for 20-30 minutes or until opaque and reduced.

4. Strain into a heatproof serving bowl. (If you would like a thicker or more concentrated sauce, return liquid to pot and boil further to reduce.) Add sugar and ginger, and 1 tsp. of vinegar. Taste, and add vinegar or salt to taste. Ladle a little sauce over the fish, and serve the rest on the side as sauce for the fish or for “sops” (whatever grain you serve with the fish – bread, rice, etc). As the sauce cools, the butter may separate out and harden.

Despite the long ingredient list, this is not a difficult recipe. However, there are a few ingredients that I (as a modern cook) am unaccustomed to. Pike itself can be difficult to find, although any firm-fleshed white fish seems to make a fair substitute. The “reflect” of the fish seems to be the leftovers from cleaning it – bones and head, or possibly organs. I used the bones, heads, and tails, since those can be purchased at a grocery store and give more body to the broth. However, since the only fish available for whole purchase were small, I did not actually use their flesh as the fillets in the recipe – I used only their heads, tails, spines, and fins in the broth. If a fresh-caught large pike were available, its “reflect” would certainly be the best choice! The original recipe calls for the “reflect” to be served along with the fish, but I have chosen not to do so.

Mace is the delicate membrane-like covering around the nutmeg seed, so I assume “whole mace” must refer to the seed itself – the whole nutmeg. The only other confusing or ambiguous ingredient is the yeast. It seems likely that this yeast would have been brewing yeast, perhaps the dregs from winemaking. Specifically isolated baking or cooking yeasts (such as the ones commercially available today) were not developed until later. I experimented with adding a little yeast to the sauce, and didn’t notice a significant flavor difference, so I omitted it from the redaction.

The redacted sauce, probably much like the original recipe, is delicate, flavorful, and sweet. I personally don’t care for sweet or fruity sauces with meat or fish, a taste that is shared by many modern palates. However, sweet sauces for meat were fairly common during period, and this dish would probably have been enjoyed by anyone accustomed to the flavor combination. Rather than overwhelming the flavor of the fish, the herbs blend well with the spices and wine to subtly flavor the broth reduction. Rosemary plays a supporting role, enhancing instead of competing with the fish itself.

Rosemary as a Medicine

Rosemary is useful as more than a cooking spice, however. In different forms and preparations, rosemary has been consumed throughout the centuries as a medicine and a sort of healthful supplement. “Queen of Hungary water,” an early alcoholic perfume which chiefly contained rosemary along with other fragrant herbs, probably originated as an herbal remedy and was to be taken internally as well as applied to the skin.

Through the centuries, surviving documents point to rosemary’s diverse use in the sickroom. The Good Housewife’s Jewel calls for a preparation of rosemary, along with hyssop, save, vinegar of roses, pellitory of Spain and other herbs, to cure “the megrime…or other diseases in the head.” (Dawson p. 137) Its use as a migraine medicine is not surprising; rosemary was already associated with maladies of the mind. The Grete Herball (dating from the late 15th century) calls for the inhalation of rosemary vapors in wine for “weyknesse of ye brayne.” Shortly thereafter, Banckes’ Herbal was even more broad in its praise of the herb: rosemary boiled in water was called for “if thou art feeble,” rosemary in water and wine would help “if thou have lost appetite of eating,” and in case of a cough the patient was instructed to take “the leaves [of rosemary] boyld in white wine and ye shall be whole.” (Rohde p. 56 & 72)

Dawson further includes very specific instructions for a rosemary syrup for kidney ailments.

“[…]Take this drink that followeth and it will clean your bladder, and it will leave no corruption therein. THE DRINK. Take rosemary with thyme, and seethe them in running water with as much sugar as will make it sweet from a quart to a pint. Use the quantity of your herbs according to your discretion, so that it may savour well of the herbs. And so use it nine mornings, six or seven spoonfuls at a time.” (Dawson p. 145)

I decided to redact this syrup, and try to discover why it might have helped with bladder ailments. The amounts of rosemary and thyme were left “according to your discretion,” but—interestingly, for a medieval recipe—the instructions clearly state that the syrup was to be boiled until it reduced to half its original volume. After a little playing around, I hit on a concentration that is both sweet and strongly herbal. Here is my redaction for “The Drink:”

“The Drink” (for bladder/kidney ailments)
-4 cups water
-2 cups sugar
-generous handful each fresh thyme and rosemary

1. Rinse rosemary and thyme. Combine herbs, water, and sugar in a pan.

2. Stir over high heat until mixture boils and sugar is dissolved. Lower heat slightly to a low boil or vigorous simmer.

3. Cook, stirring occasionally, until liquid is reduced to half its original volume. Let cool, then strain out herbs.

The resulting syrup certainly tastes medicinal. However, while rosemary’s slightly antimicrobial properties may support its other uses in healing, I could find no scientific reason why it might be taken in a syrup to ease bladder or kidney problems. If nothing else, though, six or seven spoonfuls of a strongly-flavored syrup first thing in the morning would encourage the patient to drink more liquid shortly afterwards – hydrating the body when it is naturally dehydrated, and helping the kidneys to function better.

Rosemary’s Other Uses

As well as being eaten for flavor or health, rosemary preparations were used externally for washing and cosmetic reasons. This may have been due to the belief that rosemary had rejuvenating or restorative properties, or it may simply have been due to rosemary’s distinctive, invigorating smell.

An infusion of rosemary in white wine, for instance, was recommended by Banckes’ Herbal as a face wash as well as for a cough. The preparation is straightforward: “Boyle the leaves [of rosemary] in white wine and washe thy face therewith and thy browes and thou shalt have a faire face.” (Rohde p. 56) I wondered how this infusion would work as a skin cleanser, so I decided to duplicate the recipe. I covered a thick layer of rosemary sprigs with white wine, brought to a boil, let cool, then strained. The resulting liquid smells herbal and slightly astringent, and rosemary’s mild antiseptic properties (as well as any germ-killing ability the boiled wine might retain) probably make this cleanser a mild version of a modern skin-clarifying toner.

Interestingly, even the burned ash of rosemary is specifically required in an early recipe for tooth-cleansing powder (also in Banckes’ Herbal). It is one of the most unusual rosemary preparations I found, although it is also very simple:

“Take the timber thereof [of rosemary] and burn it to coales and make powder thereof and rubbe thy teeth thereof and it shall keep thy teeth from all evils. Smell it oft and it shall keep thee youngly.” (Rohde p. 57)

The final note—“and it shall keep thee youngly”—echoes back to rosemary’s supposed powers of rejuvenation. The tooth-powder, however, seemed very practical and I decided to try it. Even using thick twigs of dry rosemary, I had to burn down quite a bit of wood to produce even a little ash; if this powder was used frequently it would have required a tremendous amount of rosemary to be grown. The powder itself, though, seems like an effective tooth cleanser. Its mild grittiness cleans teeth gently, without risking damage to the gums (as other, more abrasive period recipes might). Furthermore, the ash tests slightly alkaline – naturally, since wood ash is used to produce lye. Like baking soda, soap, or most toothpastes, alkaline wood ash would subtly change the pH of the mouth and might inhibit the growth of bacteria on the teeth and gums. While not as effective as today’s fluorinated toothpastes, a powder of wood ash was probably a safe, gentle and helpful period tooth cleaner. However, I can find no reason why rosemary specifically should be the wood used. My best guess is that rosemary was known to help preserve meat, and was thought to help with many other ailments of the mind and body, so it was logically assumed to be the best wood to burn for a tooth powder.

Along with its uses in skin, cosmetic, and medicinal remedies, rosemary was even used in amulets and protective charms. Its sharp, pungent scent was supposed to maintain youth and vigor; it was seen as a general restorative and a cure for all maladies of the mind or spirit. Gerard’s Herball (c. 1600) relates charmingly, “If a garland thereof be put about the head, it comforteth the brain, the memorie, the inward senses and comforteth the heart and maketh it merry.” (Rohde p. 106) Banckes’ Herbal recommends rosemary leaves under the bed to combat nightmares, and echoes Gerard by recommending that powdered rosemary flowers bound to the arm will make the wearer “light and merrie.”

While none of these amulets or charms was likely to be scientifically useful, their use reaffirms rosemary’s popularity and the high regard in which it was held. Over the centuries, rosemary has been welcomed in the gardens and storerooms of people from all walks of life. Its piney scent, antiseptic properties and reputation as a rejuvenant led to rosemary’s use in both cooking and medicine in countless preparations. Its reputation as an aid to memory is hinted at by Shakespeare (“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love, remember!”). Even today, rosemary is such a popular seasoning that it can be found in nearly any kitchen – but this is only a hint of its uses throughout history.

Sources

Castleman, Michael. The New Healing Herbs. New York: Bantam Books, 2002.

This practical book discusses both historical and modern medicinal uses of many herbs, as well as scientific evidence supporting or refuting their use.

Dawson, Thomas. The Good Housewife’s Jewel. As introduced by Maggie Black. East Sussex, England: Southover Press, 1996.

First published in 1596-97, the Jewel is a detailed and fun-to-read late-period English cookery book. As well as a long list of recipes, it contains sections on beverages, medical remedies, and even the care and keeping of livestock.

de Worde, Wynkyn. The Boke of Keruynge. Edited and introduced by Peter Brears. East Sussex, England: Southover Press, 2003.

The Boke of Keruynge dates to at least 1508, although portions of its text may be nearly 100 years older. It focuses largely on the many details that went into serving meals in a nobleman’s home, but also contains a fascinating list of sauces and meats – everything from bitterns to whimbrels.

Le Menagier de Paris as translated by Janet Hinson. Published in full at the “Medieval Recreation” page of David Friedman (Cariadoc). Last accessed October 2008 [http://www.daviddfriedman.com/Medieval/Cookbooks/Menagier/Menagier_Contents.html].

Not only a cookbook, Le Menagier de Paris also contains detailed notes on butchering animals, preparing and serving formal feasts, and many other subjects. A wonderful and varied source.

Libellus de arte coquinaria: An Early Northern Cookery Book. Edited and translated by Rudolf Grewe and Constance B. Hieatt. Tempe, Arizona: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2001.

Grewe and Hieatt translate and compare 4 surviving manuscripts, dating to c. 1300. The manuscripts contain short recipes for meats, sauces, almond milk, and porridges – food that seems more likely to be eaten by common people than fancier dishes that appear in many other period cookbooks.

Hieatt, Constance B., Brenda Hosington, and Sharon Butler. Pleyn Delit: Medieval Cookery for Modern Cooks. 2nd ed. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1996.

Pleyn Delit is a collection of period recipes from various different primary sources, as well as redactions and some discussion. A great introduction to Medieval cooking.

Rohde, Eleanour Sinclair. The Old English Herbals. Mineola, New York: Dover Publications Inc., 1971.

This republication of a 1922 original contains significant well-sourced excerpts from primary sources, as well as the author’s thoughtful narrative. Specific primary sources quoted above include The Grete Herball (1516 with later editions, printed by Peter Trevaris, and believed to be mostly a translation of the earlier French Le Grant Herbier, c. 1500); Banckes’ Herbal (1525 with later editions, author anonymous, printed by Rycharde Banckes); and Gerard’s Herball (1597, John Gerard).

As well as the documentation, the display had small glass pitchers of the rosemary-thyme syrup and the rosemary-wine infusion, a small dish of the rosemary ash, a container of the green garlic sauce with dry bread for sampling, and a plate of the wine-herb poached fish with sauce and an extra bowl of sauce. (I only set out the fish & fish sauce around when the judging was set to begin, and kept them over warming lights so they didn't get cold...I just didn't feel comfortable leaving that out all day. Visions of food poisoning danced in my head.)

One of the benefits to this kind of challenge is that I got to sit down with the challenger (Mistress Jadwiga, in this case) for a more detailed Q & A session about the project. That was really interesting and useful, if also slightly intimidating. Also got some good comments in the little book I set out, and feedback from people during the day about specific parts of the display/documentation they liked or wondered about. And while mine wasn't the winning entry, I was awarded quite a few packets of various herbs & spices - "enough to be a dowry in the Middle Ages!" So if I ever decide to marry a truly Medieval gentleman, I suppose I'm all set. :-)

A lot of folks who sampled the green garlic sauce seemed to like it. I am reminded again that I once planned to do an entire display of different kinds of sauces - maybe this garlic sauce, along with a cameline sauce, several of the mustards, the "sauce for Lords" from Libellus, and a handful of others. Of the period sauces that I've tried, many taste very foreign to me but some of them are still good!

So, the bare bones of the day: good event, good food, good company, good discussions. Fun, and I hope the event happens again next year.

In a brief offtopic foray into real life: haven't been on LJ much at all since I started the new job, since M. and I have both been pretty busy. Things are gradually getting into a routine, though (whew! - especially for Megan!) so maybe I will be a good little Internet addict and post more often. Plus maybe actually reading more than once a month, so I have half a chance of knowing what's going on with everyone else out there. Because that's the point, right?

St. Luke's

Sun, 26 Oct 2008 17:39:21 GMT

St. Luke's Artisans' Fair, of course, was yesterday. Long story short, it was a lot of fun. Got to seem some really incredible displays, chat with some folks I haven't seen in awhile, and also got some really good feedback on the stuff I had on display. Plus, as an added bonus, some friends got awards at court...that's always a warm-and-fuzzy sort of thing to see.

Displays of particular note, although this is certainly not all of them: the printing press. (Wow.) The cheese display - I pointed Megan at that one, too, because she's teaching an A&S class on cheese pretty soon. The other "Take This Herb" entry, which was on elder. The unexpectedly fiery Spanish chocolate. (Owww!) Lebkuchen (very cool). And a child-scale Viking bed, complete with a little kid conked out asleep. Adds that extra touch of authenticity, you know.... :-)

Here's the documentation for the pigment project:

“The Disgusting Challenge”

Lady Rebekah of Samandar
a.k.a. Rebecca Simmons
Autumn XLIII (2008)

The Challenge:

Urine is an important industrial chemical in the Middle Ages. It has multiple uses in the textile industry, tanning, metallurgy, and many other applications. It's so useful that in cities, people come around and collect it.

The challenge is to come up with at least three applications or processes in which urine plays an important role. Produce at least one artifact using this ingredient or process. Document your research, as usual.

Background

At the most basic level, urine is the body’s way of flushing waste products and extra water from the bloodstream. The process is fairly similar for most mammals (including humans): blood passes through the kidneys, where water and waste solutes are filtered out as urine. The urine is stored in the urinary bladder until it is excreted from the body.

While the process is fairly consistent, the exact makeup of urine varies. Urea, a waste product, is formed in the liver from ammonia and carbon dioxide. Various other chemicals are products of nucleic acid or hemoglobin breakdown; sugars, dissolved salts, and solutes from food also are filtered from the bloodstream and excreted. Also, the amount of water a person (or animal) has drunk will affect how much water the kidneys filter out of the blood and into urine, leaving the urine more or less dilute.

The variability in urine’s character and composition can show the health of the individual who produced the urine. Also, urine’s chemical composition (which changes as it ages) means that it has been useful in dyeing, pigment-making, and sometimes even cleaning – all uses that relied on urine’s chemical makeup, before modern alternatives were created.

Urine and Health

Internal diseases and injuries were far more difficult to diagnose and treat before modern medical equipment allowed doctors to “see” into the body. Even today, urinalysis is used to test for infections, diseases, and even pregnancy. Before modern diagnostic science gave doctors the ability to test and examine other internal systems, urine provided a precious glimpse of what was happening within the patient’s body.

As a health indicator, urine is best known as a guage of dehydration. If the body is fully hydrated, kidneys filter more water from the bloodstream and produce a less-concentrated urine. However, when the body is dehydrated, the kidneys conserve water by filtering out less, creating a more concentrated – and darker – product.

There are other, more subtle ways that urine can indicate a patient’s health. Medieval physicians collected and studied urine both to learn what ailed a patient, and to predict the outcome of his illness. Through uroscopy, the examination of urine (and the precursor to modern urinalysis), a physician could carefully check the urine’s color, content, and examine any sediment. Even subtle changes in color could indicate potentially serious conditions, so clear-glass urinals or beakers were used to collect the urine and physicians learned from colored uroscopy wheels how to interpret different shades.

Color was not the only diagnostic test used by ancient physicians; the thickness, opacity, and even taste of urine provided useful insight. (Sweet urine, for instance, is a sign of diabetes.) I don’t recommend trying this at home, though!

Urine is also occasionally mentioned as a specific ingredient in some ancient medicinal remedies. (Pliny the Elder, for instance, suggests that a mixture of milk and young boys’ urine can cure worms.) This may be due to urine’s unique chemical composition, but I suspect that in most remedies it is included simply because it had come to be associated with physicians and the process of illness and healing.

Urine and Indigo

As urine ages, it begins to chemically change. Urea breaks down into its composite parts (including ammonia), bacterial actions and fermentation begin, and a distinct privy or diaper-pail scent sets in. Since the resulting liquid is now an ammonia alkali solution, it is useful for cleaning or bleaching textiles – and this may have been how its use in indigo dyeing was first discovered. Many species of plants contain indigo, including both “true” indigo (Indigofera tinctoria, native to India) and woad (Isatis tinctoria, found in central Asia and throughout Europe). If any of these plants were accidentally introduced into a bleach-bath of clothes and urine (or wood-ash lye water, another common alkali), the clothes would have been dyed a pale blue. All this is speculation, of course; indigo dye’s beginnings are a mystery and the dye itself has been used for more than 3000 years.

The chemical breakdown of urine as it becomes stale is vitally important to this process. Indigotin (the oxidized form of indigo dye derived from any of a number of plant species) is not easily soluble and so cannot be used on its own. First, it must be reduced (to counter the oxidation) – only then, in an alkaline solution, can indigo finally be used as a dye.

Fermented urine vats are an ideal solution to the problem. The bacteria or yeasts responsible for the fermentation in the urine help with the reduction process, and since the ammonia-rich liquid is alkaline it makes an ideal dyebath. As the fiber is lifted from the dyebath into the air, the dye oxidizes back to its insoluble (blue) form and the fibers take on their indigo-blue color.

Some period and near-period recipes mention treating the yarn with alum or other chemicals prior to dying it:

"To Dye Wool with Indigo"

"Take fresh men's urine and 1 1/2 oz. of indigo to 5 pounds of yarn. Let the indigo
soak overnight in the urine and grind it as fine as possible. Pour in the urine and stir it up well. If debris appears to settle out, pour or strain it into a glazed pot and put in a little ground antimony. Let stand 24 hours in a warm place. When you wish to dye, let the yarn boil in alum water for half an hour. Drain the yarn and afterwards lay it wet into the indigo pot. Turn the yarn often so that it will not become unevenly dyed, and let it lie until it is blue enough. If the yarn is not a dark enough blue, put in more indigo." (A Little Dye Book/Weber Kunst und Bild Buch, 1677)

While the alum should not be necessary for the chemical action of the dyebath itself, it is probably useful for cleaning or scouring the wool – if the wool is even the least bit greasy, indigo will not adhere as well. Once the wool is prepared, though, only fermented urine and indigo are required for a successful dyebath.

There are other ways to produce an indigo vat; both wood-ash lye water and lime are alkaline and can also be used in vat dyeing. However, urine was probably much simpler to collect and became strongly associated with true indigo dyes. As recently as the early 20th century, dyers could purchase artificial ammonia scent to add to non-urine indigo dyebaths, leaving a faint smell to convince buyers that the dye was genuine. Along with its use in indigo vats, urine was also a great mordant in preparing fibers for other dyes. The Mappae Clavicula (9th century) calls for urine mordants in weld, madder, and “yellowish-purple” dyes; the Innsbruck manuscript (c. 1330) suggests a urine mordant be used with black cornflower dye; and the Stockholm Papyrus (300-400 CE) specifically calls for camel’s urine!

Urine and Pigments

Urine’s chemical qualities made it necessary for many processes other than dyeing. One example is the creation of pigments for painting. There are several ways to create pigments; the simplest way is to simply collect, grind, and prepare colorful soils or minerals from the earth. Since ancient times, however, people have created more and different colors by using chemical reactions.

Theophilus, in his On Divers Arts (c. 1100), sets out three different pigment “recipes” which call for urine:

"Chapter 35. Salt Green. If you want to make a green pigment, take a piece of oakwood, as long and as wide as you wish, and hollow it into the shape of a little chest. Then take some copper and thin it out into sheets of any desired width but of a length sufficient to span the [inside] width of the chest. After this take a flat pan full of salt and, pressing the salt down firmly, put the pan in the fire and cover it with [glowing] coals for the night. Next morning grind the salt very carefully on a dry stone. Get some thin twigs and place them in the above-mentioned chest in such a way that two thirds of the cavity are beneath [the twigs] and the other third is above them. Smear the copper sheets on both sides with pure honey and sprinkle the ground salt on them. Then lay them next to each other on the twigs and cover them carefully with another piece of wood, fitted for the purpose, so that no vapors can escape. Next, in the corner of this piece of wood drill a hole through which you can pour in heated vinegar or urine until a third of [the chest] is filled; then block up the hole. Put this chest in a place where you can pile dung all over it. After four weeks pry off the lid, scrape off whatever you find on the copper, and keep it. Put [the copper] back again and cover it as above.

Chapter 36. Spanish Green. Now if you want to make Spanish green, take thinned-out copper plates, scrape them carefully on both sides, moisten them with pure hot vinegar without honey or salt, and lay them together in a smaller wooden chest in the same way as above. After two weeks inspect and scrape them, and continue doing this until you have enough pigment.

Chapter 37. Ceruse. […] If you are going to make ceruse, thin out some lead plates and lay them together, dry, in a wooden chest in the same way as the copper above. Then pour in hot vinegar or urine to cover them. After a month pry off the lid and remove whatever white there is and replace [the plates] as before." (On Divers Arts)

I decided to try at least two of these recipes, and settled on salt green and ceruse. Copper sheeting and lead sheeting were easily purchased (I’ve set out samples of each – if you haven’t touched or bent lead before, it is very interesting!) Rather than carving a liquid and vapor-proof oak box, I settled on sealed plastic food-storage containers. I used dowel lengths as “twigs” to span the boxes, and sealed the holes where the dowels entered the boxes with watertight plumbers’ putty and heavy-duty tape. The end result, while not as elegant as an oak box, was sturdy, watertight, and large enough to fit a fair-sized sheet of metal. I prepared two boxes: one to use with copper, the other for lead.

Theophilus’ instructions for salt green explain very specifically how to grind salt – first baking it almost into a cake, then grinding it down finely. Since the amount of heat put off by the embers of a cook-fire will not chemically change or melt salt, however, it seems likely that this step is included to be sure the salt is finely-ground. Today, of course, finely-ground plain salt is readily available as a substitute. Rather than balancing several copper or lead sheets crosswise over the dowels, I used one larger thin sheet of each. The copper was smeared liberally with honey and then sprinkled with salt, while the lead was left plain (according to the recipe). I heated a quantity of urine in closed glass jars in the sun, and then poured it into each container – to about 1/3 full for the copper, and even with the top of the metal for the lead. Finally, I lidded each box so they were sealed to moisture and air.

Theophilus’ original instructions called for the boxes to be buried in a dung heap, presumably to keep them at a warm and consistent temperature. Lacking a dung heap, I instead buried the boxes about 1 foot beneath the sod level in my yard. In September in Virginia, I did not worry that the boxes would get too cold – but a foot of soil probably also kept the boxes from the most extreme heat, and protected them from any other disturbances.

I waited a few weeks longer than Theophilus required, hoping to accumulate more pigment before I dug the boxes back up. I was surprised, though, to find that there was only a very small amount of pigment on each metal plate. The copper had a small but noticeable amount of green, which I carefully scraped off and collected. The lead, while it showed some white traces, had virtually no pigment to scrape off. (I have included the lead sheet – if you look you can see faint hints of white, but not much at all!) I returned the scraped copper sheet to its box and tried burying it again, upside-down this time to completely submerge the copper, in the hopes of getting a little more pigment. Unfortunately, after two weeks even less pigment had accumulated.

I carefully “washed” the salt green I had been able to collect, mixing it with water and removing dirt or organic material that floated or quickly sank from the solution. I allowed the resulting green liquid to evaporate, leaving the pigment, which I re-washed several times. The end product was a fine green-blue powder, which I ground into a paint with a little glair (the liquid part of an egg white). Theophilus recommends this mixture for minium, although he does not recommend any specific tempering for salt green itself – “Salt green is not good in a book” (p. 38). I have not been able to figure out why he issues this warning; maybe due to problems with lightfastness, or perhaps due to color quality of the finished paint.

To my disappointment, the lovely blue-green pigment turned to a more muted grass-green as it was ground with glair. After painting a test patch, I decided to also try tempering some pigment with gum arabic (another medium Theophilus uses). Unfortunately that paint, too, turned more muted as it was ground. Just for fun I ground a final small batch, tempered with glair and a pinch of gum arabic. The color remained constant through all three samples, although each had a different consistency. The glair-and-gum-arabic combination, unsurprisingly, seems to show the most definition in its brushstrokes; the plain gum arabic was the most blurred after drying, while the plain glair was somewhere in between.

If I were to try this experiment again, I believe I would use vinegar (which Theophilus also mentions) rather than urine. The very property that makes urine useful as a diagnostic tool – its variability – makes it a difficult ingredient in any chemical experiment. Subtle changes in the chemical makeup of the urine, due to any of a number of factors, could have changed how it reacted to the copper and lead and kept the pigments from forming correctly. For instance, as urine ages it becomes more alkaline with the breakdown of urea into ammonia; vinegar, on the other hand, would be consistently acidic.

Despite these inconsistancies – or, sometimes, because of them – urine played an important role in many historical trades and professions. A scribe or a dyer who understand how to use urine’s chemical properties could rely on it as a plentiful ingredient for dyebaths, mordants, or pigment-making. (Hopefully with more efficient results than I achieved!) And while these practical chemists may have been frustrated by urine’s chemical inconsistency, that, too, was a valuable characteristic. For centuries, physicians who understood how to interpret changes in urine used uroscopy as a rare window into the body.

Sources

Kouba, Erik, Eric M. Wallen, and Raj S. Pruthi. “Uroscopy by Hippocrates and Theophilus: Prognosis Versus Diagnosis.” The Journal of Urology 19 April 2006: 50-52.

A very interesting scholarly article on the period practice of uroscopy, specifically comparing the approaches of Hippocrates and Theophilus. Also very interesting illustrations. (Attached to the documentation when on display.)

Liles, J. N. The Art and Craft of Natural Dyeing: Traditional Recipes for Modern Use. Knoxville, TN: The University of Tennessee Press, 1990.

A comprehensive book on animal, vegetable, and mineral dyes. The well-researched chapter on historical indigo dyeing (incl. urine vats) is particularly interesting.

Starr, Cecie, and Ralph Taggart. Biology: The Unity and Diversity of Life. 9th ed. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole, 2001.

A basic biology textbook – cited here because the section on the human excretory system provided the basic background information on urine’s formation and composition.

Theophilus. On Divers Arts. Trans. John G. Hawthorne and Cyril Stanly Smith. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1979.

A wonderful primary source for painting, metal, and glasswork. Contains detailed instructions on the making and use of pigments, including those listed above.

Electronic Sources

A Little Dye Book/Weber Kunst und Bild Buch, 1677. Translation copyright 1996-2005 by Drea Leed. The Dye Woorkes: Historical Dye Recipes. Last accessed October 2008
[http://www.elizabethancostume.net/dyes/zieglerdyebook.html].

Contains the translated text of the dye recipes and instructions in this near-period work.

The Innsbruck Manuscript, c. 1330. Translation copyright 1996-2005 by Drea Leed. The Dye Woorkes: Historical Dye Recipes. Last accessed October 2008 [http://www.elizabethancostume.net/dyes/innsbruck/].

This translation is based on the text from the facsimilie in Emil Ernst Ploss’s Ein Buch von Alten Farben.

The Mappae Clavicula, c. 821. Trans. Cyril Stanley Smith and John G. Hawthorne. The Dye Woorkes: Historical Dye Recipes. Last accessed October 2008.
[http://www.elizabethancostume.net/dyes/mappae.html].

Contains the text of the Mappae Clavicula, a now-lost 9th century manuscript. Translated from a manuscript copy in the Corning Museum of Glass, New York.

The Stockholm Papyrus, c. 300-400. The Dye Woorkes: Historical Dye Recipes. Last accessed October 2008. [http://www.elizabethancostume.net/dyes/stockholm.html]

This transcription is taken from the English translation by Earle Radcliffe Caley and published in the Journal of Chemical Education, Vol 4, No 8 in August of 1927.

Turning the Pages Online (the Fasiculo de Medicina). March 13, 2007. The National Library of Medicine. Last accessed October 2008 [http://archive.nlm.nih.gov/proj/ttp/ flash/ketham/ketham.html].

A publicly-available scanned version of Johannes de Ketham’s Fasiculo de Medicina, particularly interesting for its illustrations and diagrams.

....As well as the documentation, the display itself included samples of plain copper and lead sheeting, copper and lead sheeting after the reaction, a small sample of the un-tempered blue-green pigment, and samples of the grass-green paint after the pigment had been tempered with glair, glair and gum arabic, and gum arabic alone. I also brought the white mortar & pestle I had used to grind the pigment (with the paint dry inside it), since I thought it showed very vividly how the color changed as soon as I started to temper the pigment.

Unfortunately I had communication problems througout this whole thing; I had emailed Master Eadric starting back in June and got bounce messages on most of the emails. I thought some of them came through, and then heard from Kitty that he didn't think he had entrants - so found out that none of them got through after all. I don't know what the issue was, but the email that I sent the same day to the sponsor of the other competition also didn't get through. I've never had that kind of issue with gmail before, so who knows what happened. I did eventually get in touch (by abuse of LJ), but the end result was that due to not thinking he had participants in his challenge and (more importantly) family obligations, the challenge wasn't actually officially held. I simply displayed the project for feedback and commentary. I did get some really good comments and questions, so I'm glad I went ahead and brought it all and set it up. If Megan & I end up at Holiday Faire I will take the whole thing with me for Master Eadric to see there, but I don't know yet if that will happen - it may be the weekend of our parents' annual "pre-Thanksgiving" dinner. Either way, I'll send him the documentation to look over for comments/critiques/suggestions. So it's all good in the end.

I want to post a couple pictures that went with the documentation, but the Photobucket account is set up through Megan and I forgot the password. Oops. So I'll have to come back and do that later.... sheesh. I'm also going to look around and see if there are good pictures of the event up there; someday when we have a good digital camera I am going to have to take pictures at events too. It's always nice to be able to look back at them afterwards.

Going to continue in another entry with the documentation for the other project, since this is getting long and LJ may cut me off.

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 01:03:08 GMT

Haven't posted in a loooong time. This is due to (among other things) new jobs: M's and mine. Good things in both cases, but it means life is busy.

However, still working on stuff for St. Luke's!

Tonight I am working on the rosemary/thyme syrup. It's from the Good Housewife's Jewel (insert creative spelling but it's in the other room and I am too lazy to go check). It doesn't include measurements for water, sugar, or herbs; says to add enough sugar to make it sweet and enough herbs to make it taste strongly of them. It does, however, say to boil down to half its original volume (although in different words).

My redaction so far:

Take a quart of water and a cup of sugar. Add a generous handful each of fresh rosemary and thyme. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring frequently. Turn down to medium-low. Cook until reduced to half its original volume (stir now and then), let cool, then strain. Don't know how long it will take to cook, since it's still cooking.

Not sure how I will like the proportions, if I will want to muck with it or leave it as is. The smell is very herbal, and not in a good way - but it's supposed to be medicinal, after all. (I like both rosemary and thyme, but rosemary + thyme + sweet just isn't pleasant.)

Also grinding down more and more rosemary-wood ash; I now have a bit more than a half cupful. And it took a LOT of rosemary to get there! I'm done, though. That's quite enough to play with, display, and have extra left in case I drop the first display on the floor and have to sweep it up....

Off to stir my syrup!

Lots of chatter, no real content

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 15:49:54 GMT

I was so worried that I had ordered copper that would be flimsy or too thin. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing entirely. Copper arrived yesterday, and as soon as I picked up the package I knew I was OK – it was heavy. Sure enough, my lovely 12x12 square of copper is not at all flimsy. I will have to figure out the best way to cut it. Megan points out that we have tin snips, but I’m not sure if they will work. Fingers are crossed.

The other night I went out to try and burn down the rest of the rosemary; I got about ¼ to 1/3 of what was remaining burnt but the rest is still on the back porch. I couldn’t feed the fire fast enough to keep it from smoldering down into incredibly smoky embers (that stuff burns very fast) and eventually I got sick of the smoke. Not sure if I’ll burn the rest or not; first I have to grind up the ash and see how much I have.

Worked on the coif at Yellow Ribbon on Saturday. I finished it, but I had to pick it apart and I will have to reshape the front edge (“brim” isn’t exactly the right term). Again, I know it isn’t going to win any beauty contests, but it was a good way to use up a bunch of scraps. Soon I want to dig up a larger piece of linen to make a nicer pattern without piecing everything together from smaller bits! (Although I’m sure that’s very authentic, it just doesn’t look as nice.) Plus, I have to muck with the shaping; this one isn’t quite right. But at least it will be another option for things-to-wear-on-my-head-at-events.

And I have to actually get my act together and make shoes, before I forget how. At the moment I’m wearing sandals to events because it’s summer, but soon it will cool down. And what good are nice stockings if you don’t have any shoes to wear with them?

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 17:11:28 GMT

Well, the lead is all set up and buried. The copper isn't, because I was scatterbrained - I thought I had several packets of thinnish copper foil, which I could layer together and use instead of thick foil/sheeting. Well, it turns out I had copper leaf instead. Quite different, infinitely more fragile, and not at all what I needed. Rats.

So I went online and ordered some copper. It was more expensive than the lead, which isn't too surprising. I ordered a 12 x 12 square of moderately heavy foil; I have a hard time conceptualizing just how thick it is so we will see when it arrives. (It's shipping by UPS ground, so I'm not holding my breath; it'll probably arrive sometime late this week or next week.)

In the meantime, I'm thinking I may buy a medium-sized metal wastecan to burn down the rest of the rosemary. Doing it a potful at a time would take forever, and I'm feeling impatient. I know I've said it before, but that stuff burns down to almost nothing….I've burned two pots-full and I have maybe a scant 2 tbsp. ground ashes to show for it. Even knowing that would be the case, it's startling to see.

Finishing up the coif I started while on the plane to Vegas. It's pretty basic, and not bad considering I'd never made one before. If I were to start it over, I might do a slightly different style - but this was mostly to use up scraps, give me something to sew on the plane, and get an idea of how much cloth I need to make a coif that fits me. It's plain white linen and undecorated; right now I just have to finish one edge, the ties, and some topstitching. I love sewing linen, by the way. It's so much nicer to the needle than silk is.

There's more, but I'm rambling and I need to get back to work….

Lead and Roses

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 20:20:53 GMT

My lead got here!

I'd never actually handled lead before. It's really weird - incredibly soft and very nonmetallic. It feels almost closer to plastic or clay than "real" metal. I knew it was soft, but it's one thing to know it intellectually and quite another to be able to bend a sheet of metal with almost no effort.

Tonight I'm going to go by Home Depot and pick up some dowels, plumbers' putty, and heavy-duty vent tape to use in making the pigment boxes. Not as elegant as Theophilus' setup with carved airtight oak boxes, but much simpler and should work just as well. My focus here is on the chemical reactions and the pigments they create, not in the type of box the reaction takes place in (as long as my model is functionally the same as what was used in period).

There was also an interesting article in the latest TI (that's Tournaments Illuminated, for any non-SCAdians who may be reading this) about medieval varieties of rose. I thought it was really interesting; made me want to go out and buy some of the "right" kind of rosebushes. That was one of the weaknesses in my rose project: the roses I used were from the gardens of anyone I could talk into giving me roses, and I think they were primarily relatively modern varieties of damask roses or other similar species. While they were certainly close enough to give a decent approximation of all the rose preparations, using a more historically accurate strain of rose would have been even better.

Plus, the older varieties are supposed to have a wonderful smell. Kind of like heirloom tomatoes are supposed to taste better….

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 01:01:05 GMT

Well, that's irritating. I started an update and then somehow deleted it.

Anyhow: my planned projects for the Artisans' Fair are starting to come together (in my mind if not in real life) and I'm optimistic. Still working on the herbal challenge, with a focus on rosemary, and the "disgusting" challenge (including making a couple pigments, a process that requires - among other things - urine). So far, both are pretty interesting.

I had a couple worries from a supply standpoint: rosemary and lead. We have a rosemary plant, but it never took off. Instead, the moonflower kind of choked it, so the rosemary is still small and unassuming - not ready to give up large parts of itself for herbal experimentation. Luckily, Julie emailed Campfire this weekend saying she had harvested her rosemary bushes and did anyone want some? I wanted some. I jumped at the chance, in fact, and now I am the proud owner of a large armful of rosemary. Much of it is outside so the wood can dry; the fresh greens are stripped and I have them in the freezer for now.

Lead, of course, is for use with the pigments. (Needed lead and copper, but I have copper foil.) I spent a little time bumming around online looking at scrap lead, but I had a hard time finding it for sale in quantities less than a ton. Eventually I wandered to this site, though, which seems to be just what I was looking for. Ordered a sheet of lead, and it should arrive in a week or so - we'll see if it's what I need. Hope so!

In the meantime, I have actually done the only physical labor required for any of this. I dug a hole in the backyard for the (airtight, closed) boxes where the pigments will age. The primary-source "recipe" calls for that, so I figured a little digging was reasonable. I could probably approximate the effect by insulating the boxes well and keeping them at roughly the right temperature - but why, since I have this backyard and a shovel? It's about the same amount of work, in the end. Part of me is a little leery of burying a box containing lead, but even if it somehow bursts open and the lead leeches into the groundwater I don't think it will be enough lead to do any significant damage. We aren't talking about an industrial chemical dump here, after all!

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 13:39:12 GMT

Does anyone have experience re-stretching fabric that has shrunk slightly?

I think it should be possible - I've managed to stretch fabric by accident enough times - but I've never tried it on purpose. The fabric is a lightweight woven cotton, and what I plan to do is dampen it, stretch and pin (maybe to a towel-covered board). Not sure what else to try.

On the flip side, it took navy-blue dye very nicely. (Completely mundane garment, completely mundane Rit dye, but I still was skeptical; it's a lovely color. Just can't wear it without looking like a sausage now.)

I've decided that I am going to try making salt green & lead white pigments for part of the St. Luke's challenge. At least the salt green; lead white will depend on how easy it is to find lead. Theophilus calls for sheets of lead, which would be ideal; but I think I'd settle for lead fishing weights. (Wonder if they still sell those?)

Also need to start encouraging the rosemary in the garden if I want to have enough of that to play around with different ideas for the herbal challenge. I think rosemary will be the herb I focus on; there are just so many interesting references to it in the bit of research I've done. Plus, I love the way it smells.

Having finished the pink stockings for Timoch at his hatching (and what's a significant milestone without a gag gift or two?) I'm now actually finishing the second pair of stockings for *me.* Mine are white, not pink. :-) One pair complete, first stocking of pair 2 complete, second stocking a little more than halfway done. I may have said this before, but - I really begin to understand why people mended and patched and wore these until they absolutely fell apart. When there is this much work going into simple stockings, you want to wring every last day of wear out of them before you have to replace them.

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 20:42:49 GMT

This weekend was the Pas du Foret Mysterieux down in Windmaster's, and it was absolutely fun. I raved about it over in the other LJ, so I'll try to cut the general rambling here and stick to the A&S stuff.

At the torchlit ball on Friday night, there were a couple Italian dances - it sounds goofy, but I don't think I've actually done any of the Italian dances before. Lots of English stuff, not so much Italian. I'm sure they were some of the simpler variations, but they were a lot of fun (and not so scary). So that's good!

Naturally the main focus of the Pas was the tournament itself, but there were also several A&S competitions/displays going on. (And they were in the air-conditioned hall, which lent them extra appeal….) There were several kids' entries in the "accessories" competition, a couple of which are enough to make just about anyone feel inadequate. ("Wow…. I couldn't have done that at age 7! Or even age 14, actually.") Also, eye-catchingly, a subtlety of the head of John the Baptist on a platter, surrounded by "blood."

There was also a poetry competition, which I decided to enter sort of at the last minute. Last week I started batting around the idea of trying to write something, since it's been awhile since I tried poetry, and I eventually settled on a sestina. Even after writing it up I wasn't sure about entering it, though. I wasn't completely happy with the poem, and it's pretty hard to let other people read something I've written. I don't know why. Displaying a normal A&S project makes me a little nervous; displaying something I wrote makes me very self-conscious. Go figure. In the end I went ahead and entered, and I'm glad I did; I got a lot of good commentary on it and (surprisingly enough) I won the competition. That's always startling, but in a nice way. :-)

If you're interested, here's the documentation part:

About the Sestina

The sestina (also called by several similar names, including "sextain") is a form of poetry first dating to the 12th century. Arnaut Daniel, a Proven(c)al troubador, is credited with inventing this form of poetry; his Lo ferm voler is the first known sestina. Other troubadors adopted and used the new form; sestinas continue to be written both in classical form and in more modern variations.

The sestina is built from six stanzas of six lines each, followed by a three-line tercet at the end for a total of 39 lines. Rather than rhyming, the lines of the stanzas must end with one of the same six words, whose order rotates throughout the poem in a set pattern. For instance, if the six lines of the first stanzas end with the "words" 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, the last words of the lines throughout the poem would be:

1 2 3 4 5 6 (first stanza)
6 1 5 2 4 3 (second stanza)
3 6 4 1 2 5 (third stanza)
5 3 2 6 1 5 (fourth stanza)
4 5 1 3 6 2 (fifth stanza)
2 4 6 5 3 1 (sixth stanza)

These same six words also appear in the final tercet, generally with two words in each of its three lines. In the tercet, though, the order is much less set than it is in the previous six stanzas; there are many tercet variations and some poems omit the tercet entirely.

Outside of these constraints, the structure of the sestina is fairly flexible. Often a regular meter is used - for instance, iambic pentameter, used often in English sestinas as well as other forms of verse such as sonnets. However, no specific meter is required for a poem to be a sestina.

My sestina stays fairly close to the rigid forms of the classical sestina. I chose to use imabic pentameter, which seems to add to the continuity of the poem. I did alter one or two end words slightly for grammar's sake ("tried" for "try"), since I wanted to keep the poem as natural-sounding as possible. I also did not use Daniel's original order of the six words in the final tercet; the tercet, however, seems to be the one part of the sestina where the word order actually is flexible!

For more information about sestinas or Arnaut Daniel, here is one of the better sources I have seen:

Malcovati, Leonardo. Prosody in England and Elsewhere: A Comparative Approach. Arlington, Virginia: Gival Press, 2006.

(In-depth analysis of many different forms of poetry, including the sestina - referred to here as the sextain. Also covers several other types of poetry prevalent during the Middle Ages. Interestingly, the author has also published the entire text of his book on his website, along with the complete works of Arnaut Daniel, among other things.)

Here's the poem itself:

Plain Chivalry
A Sestina

By Rebekah of Samandar (Rebecca Simmons)
A.S. XLIII (June 2008)

There’s glory on the field: the crowd above
Alive with shouts, and women’s shining eyes –
Each glad to see a favored fighter try
His strength, and skill, and speed against the rest.
And at the end, the winner of the day
Has bought his prize with sweat, and breath, and blood.

Of course, these days there’s hardly any blood
Spilled on the field. The real threat’s up above:
Heatstroke ruins any fighter’s day,
Or footing lost from bright sun in his eyes.
The day-shade where he pauses for a rest
Has ice-chests draped in tablecloths which try
To mask their newness. Much the same, we try,
With noble hearts and history in our blood,
To lay our modern things – for now – to rest.
With chivalry and honor held above
More mundane cares, a dream before our eyes,
We try to cover up the everyday.
(But what are virtues, if not everyday?)
What’s left, what’s real and true after we try
To learn new names, to fool our ears and eyes?
Does chivalry beat truly in his blood
Who fights today? Or is his head above
In clouds, his cause a costume like the rest?

I have an early memory (the rest
Is fuzzy, but this glimpse is clear as day):
While hauling water from the pump above
Our camp, one night, a quiet stranger tried
To help. I missed his name (because my blood
Was pounding in my ears) but with his eyes
He smiled, then took the bucket. My own eyes
Were slow – it wasn’t till he stopped to rest
I saw the ducal coronet. My blood
Rushed to my cheeks. The dark of night, not day,
Showed me true chivalry, so real it tries
To lift our dream to higher dreams above.

Plain chivalry, far from the eyes of day,
Has value far above the prize we try
To win with strength, blood, craft, or all the rest.

and here is a period example of a sestina; although it's not in English you can still see the pattern in its wording.

Lo ferm voler, the first known sestina, by Arnaut Daniel

Lo ferm voler qu'el cor m'intra
no'm pot ges becs escoissendre ni ongla
de lauzengier qui pert per mal dir s'arma;
e pus no l'aus batr'ab ram ni verja,
sivals a frau, lai on non aurai oncle,
jauzirai joi, en vergier o dins cambra.
Quan mi sove de la cambra
on a mon dan sai que nulhs om non intra
-ans me son tug plus que fraire ni oncle-
non ai membre no'm fremisca, neis l'ongla,
aissi cum fai l'enfas devant la verja:
tal paor ai no'l sia prop de l'arma.
Del cor li fos, non de l'arma,
e cossentis m'a celat dins sa cambra,
que plus mi nafra'l cor que colp de verja
qu'ar lo sieus sers lai ont ilh es non intra:
de lieis serai aisi cum carn e ongla
e non creirai castic d'amic ni d'oncle.
Anc la seror de mon oncle
non amei plus ni tan, per aquest'arma,
qu'aitan vezis cum es lo detz de l'ongla,
s'a lieis plagues, volgr'esser de sa cambra:
de me pot far l'amors qu'ins el cor m'intra
miels a son vol c'om fortz de frevol verja.
Pus floric la seca verja
ni de n'Adam foron nebot e oncle
tan fin'amors cum selha qu'el cor m'intra
non cug fos anc en cors no neis en arma:
on qu'eu estei, fors en plan o dins cambra,
mos cors no's part de lieis tan cum ten l'ongla.
Aissi s'empren e s'enongla
mos cors en lieis cum l'escors'en la verja,
qu'ilh m'es de joi tors e palais e cambra;
e non am tan paren, fraire ni oncle,
qu'en Paradis n'aura doble joi m'arma,
si ja nulhs hom per ben amar lai intra.
Arnaut tramet son chantar d'ongl'e d'oncle
a Grant Desiei, qui de sa verj'a l'arma,
son cledisat qu'apres dins cambra intra.

There was also a great bardic circle Saturday night - I didn't actually participate but I really enjoyed listening. Now I'm wandering around at work with SCA songs stuck in my head, trying not to hum to myself….

As far as actual useful projects go, I'm not getting much done - although I did get another stocking completely sewn on Saturday while watching the fighting! Almost finished with those, and then I can move on to the next project (whatever that ends up being). After hanging around with middleaston I find myself wanting to make hats. This is a dangerous urge and probably should be stifled. Hah.

Helped Megan with some of her fingerloop braiding last night (not substantial help, of course, just occasional pushing the loops down or grabbing colors of thread for her). I am still impressed by the stuff that she makes; the braids look so nice and I'm sure if I tried it I'd lose track of where in the pattern I was in no time at all. To each his (her?) own, I guess. So far, in terms of A&S, we balance out nicely - she also really loves glassworking, and while I love looking at the results I didn't like the process itself. Hot flaming gas, two rods to move in two different ways at two different rates, and the possibility of the final product cracking or just refusing leave the mandrell - no, thanks! I'll just go do some sewing instead. :-P

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 13:25:59 GMT

Strange true fact: red rose petals, ground up with egg white in a mortar & pestle, make a brilliant blue-purple. Not a red-purple, a blue-purple.

If I were any sort of a chemist I could tell you why, but I'm not, so I can't.

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 16:22:55 GMT

Once again, big lag in posting.

Does that mean I haven't been doing anything? Well, probably….

Mostly I have been working on stockings. Now I have a couple pairs of nice, prettily-done (or at least adequately-done) stockings floating around. However, it's summer, so I’m not actually wearing them anywhere. It's really tempting to put this project on hold and work on something else that I actually *want* right now - but one of my goals is to get better at actually finishing projects I start. I'm awful about that. So, stockings it is, for now.

Then, maybe, the yellow gothic gown that I've been planning for about a year. Or maybe something else. Who knows? Either way, I need more clothes. After that I will need more closet space, which is harder to get.

Looking at all the challenges for St. Luke's - very spiffy. I hope they all get a lot of entries because I'm really looking forward to seeing everything. I have been looking at the ones about herbs and *ahem* urine, actually, since both seem especially interesting. I have to do some more research about the urine challenge, since my usual method of preliminary searching (paging through books I have, whatever I find at Addie's, and whatever useful websites* I find) is yielding very little. Uroscopy looks interesting, but that's not really the main focus here. I can find references to urine vats for indigo, of course, and one just-post-period primary-source quote about urine as a bleaching agent on linen (interesting). I have heard people mention urine used for tanning leather, fertilizing plants (all the actual sources I've found so far just mention animal dung though), making black powder (Megan is all for this but it seems to take longer than we've got) and several other activities - but so far no luck finding actual in-period sources. Lots of new-agey modern sources on how to re-use your own…bodily byproducts….to organically fertilize your garden, but that's not really helpful from a historical-research standpoint.

So I'm going to have to give that a little more thought, since I don't really know where to look for more information. I probably need to decide pretty soon, though, since the event website says to let the sponsors know if you plan to enter.

In the meantime, I decided to have a go at writing something for the poetry competition at the Pas. I may have decided too late - it is this weekend, after all - but it's been awhile since I've written something and it sounded like fun. I think the first A&S entry I ever did was (partly) poetry, and I don't believe I've done anything since. This time I am trying to write a sestina (strong emphasis on the word "trying"). Not sure if anything worth entering will come of it, but I'm enjoying the attempt….

After the Pas, looking forward to Assessments (and Tim's elevation). I hope the weather stays nice for both events. Nice, in this case, means minimal-to-no rain and temperatures below 95 degrees, for a start.

And after that, while everyone else gets geared up for Pennsic, cossaccountant and I are probably going to take a deep breath and focus on some projects around the house that we've put off all spring.

(*yes, websites aren't always good for research. But a lot of times websites have pointed me at relevant books or articles. I do have to get a better actual library going, though...)

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 18:51:43 GMT

So I'm really getting interested in several of the challenges posted on the website for St. Luke's Artisans Fair…. (scroll down to the bottom for the challenges).

Actually I'm interested in a *lot* of them. But so far there are three that I actually feel drawn to do something for: the herbal challenge (Metressa Jadwiga Zajaczkowa), the "needful things" challenge (Master Richard Wymarc), and the "disgusting challenge" (Master Eadric). Hmm. Eenie meenie…..

Hey, it's still a while out. Maybe I can do all three? :-)

Seriously, though, this sounds like it could be really fun.

On a completely different note, I'm grumpy because rather than working on sewing my other stocking during lunch I had to go pick up my prescription from the doc's office and drop it off at Target. Grump grump grump. I was all in the mood for sewing, too.

I’m internally laughing at myself: last weekend when I started sewing the first stocking (at Tim & Addie's), I looked through my sewing box and went "I can't sew this, I left my white thread at home." I looked through the box something like three times without even considering the roll of cream linen thread in there - my mind went "that's the nice thread, you can't sew with that!" and just moved on. It's not like it's embroidery floss or anything - just midweight linen thread. I ended up using it and it worked fine, but apparently my subconscious feels that I should just hoard it rather than *gasp* using it to sew with. Oh well.

The Mad Stocking-er

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 16:15:35 GMT

Last week's stocking class went pretty well, considering that I was knocked on my rear by what I thought at the time was a bad allergy attack. It had been creeping up all week and I actually went home from work Thursday and worked from home that afternoon. (Megan now thinks I had a cold, since she's starting to feel sick; I hope that I didn't make anyone sick at class. Blech. I usually do have a nasty time with allergies around this time of year, so that was a reasonable assumption…. For consolation, I guess, everyone else was talking about being sick the week before, so I probably got it on the tail end instead of being a trendsetter who will get everyone else sick! *g*) Anyhow: I was croaking like a frog and blowing my nose what felt like every 30 seconds through the class, but otherwise it seemed to go mostly as planned.

Unfortunately it took longer than I thought to do the patterning, so we didn't get a chance to "trade off" and have each person pattern their partner's feet - but at least everyone either got a chance to do the patterning, or got a pattern of their feet/legs. And from that, and the handout, I think it's reasonably straightforward to reproduce the process. This kind of thing is really hard to describe in a handout alone; it's a lot easier to show what you mean than to tell it.

We did end up doing straight fabric-to-leg fitting, skipping the entire paper step. I'm actually pretty pleased with it, too. isenglass brought some examples of hose (including a men's joined pair) to pass around, and that was really cool - hers use a slightly different 3-piece pattern (without the triangular pieces) that I had actually contemplated, because I have a pair of socks that uses that same layout. Frankly, it looks like a simpler and more straightforward layout, although I haven't tried it so I don't know how the fit compares.

I had hoped that we might be able to get through the basting step at the class, although I didn't exactly count on it - of couse we didn't, but I talked about the quirks in the piecing (you almost have to gather the top piece slightly into the sole at the front to make it fit) and nothing else is really unexpected. I'm not sure anyone else is convinced that it's worth the effort to make one's own stockings, especially since they're available for sale…but if you make them you can fit them to your very own personal feet, and they're not all that difficult. Besides, after you've made the pattern, you're past the most difficult part, at least IMHO!

Also last week, I read the article that alina_s sent me on the stocking finds from Holland. That was fascinating, and reading the article was some serious nonstalgia for being back in school. You know, I really wish I'd saved my notes from the Conservation classes; I hope they're around somewhere but I have the nagging suspicion that I ditched them. 20/20 hindsight, I guess.

I, however, am not likely to be making stockings from wool any time soon, no matter how authentic it is; wool makes me itch. (OK, maybe if I lined them….) Plus, in this climate linen would be more useful. We found that the Hancock's in Williamsburg had no linen (only linen/synthetic blends, and the saleslady seemed perplexed that I'd be disappointed by that). We wandered back to Jo-Ann, where I bought about a yard and a half of the cotton/linen blend on sale. Not my first choice but it will do, and I wanted to get at least 2 pairs made up before I lose momentum and wander off into another project! :-) I cut them out at Tim & Addie's yesterday, and got one stocking about halfway done. I may cheat and finish the seams on the insides of the feet with twill tape instead of flat-felling the seams, though. Shh. Don't tell.

Megan is planning to start on the under-petticoat (so she can then make the farthingale, so she can then make the other pieces & gown) for her Tudor project. She asks me questions, and I make a SWAG at them and then go "But, uhm, I really don't know for sure…. That's later than most of what I know!" So I guess I should dig out some of my textbooks and reread that part. More knowledge is always good, right? Right.

Oh, and my copy of The Good Housewife's Jewel (or whatever the "correct" spelling would be; I don't have it in front of me) finally arrived. Woohoo!

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 20:02:45 GMT

Depending on how you look at it, I'm either perfecting my approach to the stocking project, or I'm waffling. A lot.

I think I'll look at it as "perfecting my approach."

After thinking about what alina_s said, I came to the conclusion that I might not need to mess about with paper patterns before patterning the cloth stocking mock-up to the leg. So last night I gave it a shot, forming a pattern to Megan's leg directly from a piece of cloth, a few preliminary measurements, a pair of scissors, pencil marks, and pins. I think it worked relatively well, too, and this way was certainly more direct. It makes part of me uncomfortable (the part of me that *really* likes paper patterns) but that's a habit more than an actual reasoned response.

One conclusion I'm reaching, though, is that a 3-piece pattern seems to work better than a 2-piece pattern. Now the Tudor Tailor uses a 2-piece pattern and I've seen the same pattern used a couple other places too. But if you use roughly the same pattern but take a short horizontal cut across the top of the foot (connecting the two triangle points, just about) - add seam allowance to both "top foot" pieces where they join - this seems to make the sewing a *lot* easier. I may change my mind (yet again!) but so far I like this way better. I am not sure if there are any extant garments that back it up (doubt it but who knows?)…. Even if there aren't, though, I consider it a relatively minor alteration and worthwhile in the frustration that it saves me.

Tonight I plan to drape another pattern to my leg, see how it works. If it works as I'm envisioning it (haha) then that's how I will teach it. No huge copied patterns, just cloth-to-leg. Here's hoping!

Also found out that the wonderful Kim is going to be at the class and agreed to be my draping model. So that's good. Hopefully I won't stab her with pins; and if I do, hopefully she'll be restrained and not kick me! :-)

Just got back from a lunchtime run to Jo-Ann Fabrics. It was an unsuccessful run, although that's probably my fault. I went to Walgreen's first and ran into Ron there, and we hung around and chatted for longer then I meant to. Then I dashed up to Jo-Ann, spent a little time hunting for their muslin (I swear they moved it since last time!), browsed through the linen-esque things on sale, and went to get the fabric cut. I thought leaving myself 10 minutes to get the fabric cut & pay, midday, on a week day, would be enough (especially since there were only 2 people in front of me in line). It wasn't. I ended up putting down the bolts and leaving so I could get back to work on time. I swear, sometimes cashiers in stores on weekdays seem to work soooo slooooowly. What, is the assumption that the weekday clientele are folks without a set schedule (stay-at-home parents, retirees, whatever)? Personally, I’m more likely to be in a hurry midday on a Monday - it means I'm shopping on my lunch hour, and I have a deadline. If you work quickly, I'm going to leave happy and come back more often. But maybe that's just me.

OK, nuff ranting!

Various & Sundry

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 20:03:56 GMT

I've been noodling around with the best way to present the stockings class on the 17th - unfortunately, my usual approach to most things costuming is "keep messing with it until it works." Not really a great way to teach something!

What I'm ending up doing seems to be a three-step process. First, alter the paper pattern to roughly show the dimensions of your leg & foot (erring on the side of too much material, of course). Then transfer to mock-up fabric, baste/pin to fit, and mark or alter accordingly. Finally, baste entire mock-up (to be sure fit's OK), and then transfer mock-up to nice fabric. I guess you could skip step 1 and start directly on the mock-up fabric, but I think it's a lot easier to alter a pattern on grid paper than on cloth. The basic pattern I'm using is adapted from The Tudor Tailor, with a couple little tweaks. The class itself is on the 17th, which is coming up faster than I thought.

Speaking of grid paper - I have decided that I love Hallmark. Why? Because they sell rolls of nice, wide wrapping paper with 1" square grid on the back. Very nice for patterning - and as a bonus, if you have leftovers you can use it to wrap birthday presents. :-)

Other than that, of course, I'm still working on finishing the raw seam edges of various bits of garb. I keep telling myself that it's absolutely worth the work now to keep from losing the entire garment later. And mostly I'm convinced….(mostly.) I want to get started on the yellow Gothic-esque kirtle, but I have two goals first: get the last seams finished on the red embroidered tunic, and get the new pair of shoes completely cut out so I can give Kim back the rest of her leather.

I don't think we will make it down to St. Vitus after all - between gas prices, the ton of stuff we're trying to do around the house, and everything else, it just wasn't happening. Plus, Megan has a chance to run a half-marathon for free (b/c the bank is a sponsor) that weekend, which is a great opportunity for her to get a feel of the length before the big race in September she's training for. And if nothing else, this will give me a chance to make sure I've actually washed the garb from March (which the month of a new event every time we turned around!) Of course there's other stuff going on at the same time - Megan is working on painting a new shield (this one's aluminum). I keep meaning to make her a new tabard, although no bets on when that's actually going to happen. We're still working on the house, and this weekend some time is slated for experimenting with orange paint-stripping gel. I guess that doesn't exactly count as an art or a science, though, does it?

Megan is also getting more geared up for her big project: she wants to make this style of gown. (What would it be called - Tudor? Is there a more specific name? It's later than I know much about….) She likes the color combination in the portrait of Katherine Parr much better than the one of Princess Elizabeth, although the style is very similar in both. Of course this also requires corset, farthingale, bumroll, and various other layers. She bought fabric for the centerpane of the underskirt this weekend. I admit I'm a little amused - without getting into neck ruffs, this is one of the more extravagantly feminine styles of gown out there (although I agree that it's beautiful). At first I wasn't sure it would suit her, but I think it will be fine - she isn't thin and wispy like Elizabeth is in that portrait, but she's slender and has good shoulders. Without good shoulders I think she'd look imbalanced, but that will never be a problem for Megan. :-)

Puff Pastry documentation

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 21:05:50 GMT

Here's more that I didn't get to last night: documentation from the puff pastry project (now how's that for alliteration?).

Puff Paste: Recreating Early Puff Pastry

Lady Rebekah of Samandar (Rebecca Simmons)
Barony of Tir-y-Don
Winter, AS XLII (2007-2008)

Introduction

I first began researching late-period pastry to teach a local class last summer. I was surprised to find that puff pastry, or “puff paste,” was period – since it is a rich, delicate, and labor-intensive pastry, I had assumed it was significantly more modern. However, several surviving sources show recipes that are quite similar to today’s puff pastry. While I have not found the name “puff paste” documented before the 17th century, the basic technique was recorded as early as the Renaissance.

In its simplest form, puff pastry is a plain dough that is folded and rolled to incorporate many layers of butter. When baked, the butter separates the layers of dough and they puff up, resulting in a pastry that is light and flaky but still very rich. Most modern puff pastry is quite simple – the pastry itself is unflavored, and often contains only flour, water, and the incorporated butter. Curiously, earlier puff paste recipes are enriched with eggs, spices, or rosewater. From those rich ingredients and the sheer volume of butter required, puff paste was almost certainly a luxury food. After tasting the pastry, it is easy to see why!

Contents

Primary Source Recipes

Ingredient Notes

Redaction Process

Redacted Recipe

Bibliography

Primary Source Recipes

Here are two examples of historical puff pastry recipes. While the term “puff paste” is only used in the second recipe, both show the characteristic technique of folding or rolling pieces of butter into pastry dough. For comparison, a modern puff pastry recipe is included at the end.

(The good Huswifes Jewell, 1596) To make butter paste: Take flour and seven or eight eggs, and cold butter and fair water, or rose water, and spices (if you will) and make your paste. Beat it on a board, and when you have so done divide it into two or three parts and drive out the piece with a rolling pin. And do with butter one piece by another, and fold up your paste upon the butter and drive it out again. And do so five or six times together….Put them into the oven, and when they be baked scrape sugar on them.

(Delightes for ladies, 1654) To make puffe-paste. Take a quart of the finest flower and the whites of three egs, and the yolks of two, and a little cold water, and so make it into perfect paste: then drive it with a rowling pin a-broad, then put on small peeces of butter, as big as nuts, upon it: then fold it over; then drive it abroad again; then put small peeces of butter upon it as you did before, doe this ten times alwayes folding the paste, and putting butter between every fold.

(Le Cordon Bleu Dessert Techniques, modern) Puff Pastry Ingredients: 1 ½ cups and 2 tbsp. butter / 4 ½ cups bread flour / 2 tsp. salt / 1 cup and 2 tbsp. ice water.

Melt and cool 1/3 cup unsalted butter. Mix the flour and salt in a bowl or on a marble slab and make a well in the middle. Pour the water and melted butter into the well, then work in the flour to make a soft dough. Work together into a smooth, slightly elastic ball. Cover and rest for 30 minutes.

Flatten the remaining butter into a square of approximately ¾ inch in thickness. Roll out the dough into a cross shape, with slightly mounded centre that is large enough for the butter. Place the butter in the middle, fold over the sections of dough and flatten with a rolling pin.

Roll, fold and turn the dough six times, chilling for 30 minutes between each rolling so that the dough rests. Chill before using …. Cook puff pastry at a high temperature, 200-220 C, to ensure that it puffs, becomes crisp and browns well.

Ingredient Notes

Flour: By late period, wheat was the grain of choice for most upper-class cooking. In fact, white flour was available at least a century before – in Platina’s bread recipe, he calls for “flour which is well-ground from wheat.... From this, he should separate the bran and the inferior flour with a very fine flour sieve” (Milham, 16).

By this point, most bakers would have purchased flour already ground and sifted, rather than separating out the bran themselves. The flour must have been ground very finely, since a coarse or dense texture would not have supported the delicate layers of the puff pastry. I used unbleached white flour for my puff paste redaction, with positive results.

Butter: Most butter we purchase today is sweet-cream butter – it is churned from very fresh, uncultured cream, and then immediately chilled. Often, unsalted sweet-cream butter is used for baking. However, before the development of modern refrigeration, most butter was probably salted as soon as it was churned. Salting keeps the butter fresh, while unsalted butter quickly turns rancid. Moreover, outside of a commercial dairy most butter would have been churned from cream collected over several days. It seems likely that most cream was slightly cultured before it was churned into butter. This cultured butter would have had a more pronounced, tangier flavor than sweet-cream butter.

With that in mind, I decided to use cultured butter in my puff paste. While sweet-cream butter is more common, cultured butter is still sold (often labeled as “European style” butter). I combined salted and unsalted cultured butter, to mimic a lightly-salted butter. While the exact cultures present in my butter are probably very different from those in a 17th-century dairy, the cultured butter is a better approximation than sweet-cream butter would be.

Rose water: My first experiments with this redaction used commercial rosewater. Since rosewater is often portrayed as a delicate, sweet ingredient, I was surprised to find that commercial rosewater seemed too strong and almost soapy. After a little research, I found that most modern rosewater is made from mixing strong essential oils into water. The oils have been distilled at a high heat, processed, and re-introduced into plain water before bottling.

This is a far cry from historical rosewater recipes. In fact, one of my recent projects involved several 16th-century rose preparations from Askham’s Herbal. The rosewater recipe reads: “[They] put roses with their dew hereto and they make it to boile in water, then they set it in the sune tyll it be readde” (Rohde, 61). This rosewater – made from roses boiled then steeped in the sun – is a dark red, smells sweetly of roses, and is quite different from purchased rosewater. As well as being more historically accurate, it makes the pastry taste much better.

Redaction Process

I began creating a puff paste redaction working almost completely from the recipe in The good Huswifes Jewell. While I knew and had read several similar recipes, the recipe in Jewell had one clear advantage: it dates to the 16th century, while many other recipes are from mid-17th century or later. I had never made puff pastry before this project, and I did not realize the amount of rolling and folding I would soon be doing.

Preparing puff pastry is a long process. A soft dough is formed, rolled out and topped with butter (one large piece or several small pieces). The pastry is folded over to enclose the butter, rolled flat, then folded over again. This cycle of roll/fold is repeated until a very fine layer of butter is suspended between each fine layer of pastry. When baked, the butter melts, enriching the pastry layers which separate and rise. While each step sounds simple, the process can be deceptively difficult! At first, I spent a lot of time and tears over torn or melted pastry. With practice, it became easier to judge when the pastry could be re-folded, when it was too warm, and where it was likely to tear.

Once my technique had improved, I considered my ingredients. Historical recipes tend to include eggs, rosewater or spices, and sometimes sugar, while modern recipes do not. Eggs enrich the dough, but make the finished pastry slightly tougher – sturdier but less tender. I compromised by using only one egg in my redaction. I also added rosewater and a little sugar to my version – orange flower water or a touch of vanilla could be used instead. (I find rosewater unpleasant except as a very mild flavor, but the rosewater could certainly be increased for a more fragrant pastry.)

Like the ingredients, the historical recipes’ techniques are similar to modern puff pastry with a few important differences. Modern recipes call for chilling and resting the dough, and give a specific technique for folding and turning the pastry. The period recipes are a little more vague, like most historical recipes! It’s hard to be sure whether medieval cooks would have rested and chilled their dough, but I suspect they didn’t – at least not as much as we do today.

Why not? First, period puff paste’s egg dough meant it was richer but less light and flaky than modern puff pastry. Its dough may have been a little easier to work with, even without chilling. Also, temperature control was trickier before electricity – a cook couldn’t simply refrigerate the dough for 30 minutes! If the cook began with chilled butter, he would want to finish the dough before the butter melted – the butter might be the coolest part of the dough. If the dough was rested or cooled at all (in a springhouse or a cooler part of the kitchen), it was probably cooled once or twice rather than after every turn.

My redacted recipe did involve some refrigeration, since I found a little chilling and resting gave much better results. Modern puff pastry relies heavily on careful handling and chilling for its fine, puffed flakes. While older puff pastes probably did not puff as high, they were much richer and more flavorful.

Redacted Puff Paste Recipe

-4 ½ cups white unbleached flour, plus extra for working the dough
-a pinch of sugar, plus more for serving (if desired)
-a scant pinch of salt
-3/4 cup minus 1 tbsp. tepid or cool water
-2 tbsp. rosewater (if using stronger commercial rosewater, only use 1)
-1 egg
-1/3 cup butter, melted, slightly cooled
-1 ¼ cups butter, cut into small bits, patted into a square about 1” thick and chilled (preferably cultured butter, half salted and half unsalted)

1. Gradually stir water and rosewater into the melted butter, until they are incorporated – the mixture won’t be smooth, but the butter shouldn’t solidify. Crack the egg into a small bowl, beat it slightly, then stir in the butter/water.

2. Stir your bag or bin of flour, then measure 4 ½ cups into a large bowl. (Stirring before you measure keeps the flour from being too dense). Whisk in a pinch each of sugar and salt, and then make a well in the center of the dry ingredients.

3. Stir the liquid mixture and pour it into the center of the dry ingredients. With a stiff spatula gradually mix in the flour towards the center of the liquid. When dough starts to come together, use your hands to gently knead and mix it in the bowl. As it becomes cohesive, turn onto a floured board. Knead a few more times, until dough is smooth enough to work into a ball. Cut a semi-deep cross in the top of the dough, wrap in a floured cloth and chill for 20-30 minutes.

4. On a floured board, push out the four “triangles” on the top of the dough, then roll them out to form a wide cross shape (the center should stay somewhat thicker than the arms). Place the square of cold butter in the center and fold the arms over the butter, moistening them slightly with water to make sure they stick together. Make sure the butter is completely and evenly covered. Lightly flour the dough and a rolling pin, then roll dough into a long rectangle, fold it over onto itself in thirds (like a letter), wrap and chill for 20-30 minutes.

5. When dough is chilled, roll the folded shape into another long rectangle, fold it over into thirds again, dust lightly with flour and carefully repeat. Look for spots where the dough is thin and butter shows through – fold those to the inside. After every two or three folds, wrap and chill the dough for 30 minutes. Continue until you have rolled and folded the dough at least 6 times.

6. Preheat the oven to 400 F. Roll the dough out until it is around ¼” thick, then cut shapes from it. Bake on a lightly oiled sheet for 12-15 minutes, or until puffed and slightly golden. If you wish, sprinkle generously with sugar.

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Dawson, T. (1596) The good huswifes Jewell. Albany, NY: Falconwood Press (reprint copyright 1988 to Susan J. Evans).

(There are several reprintings of The good huswifes Jewell available. I drew heavily on Dawson’s “butter paste” recipe for my redaction.)

Hess, K. (1996) Martha Washington’s Book of Cookery. Irvington, NY: Columbia University Press.

(Includes manuscript text dating to the 18th century and possibly before)

May, R. (1660-65) The Accomplisht Cook. Devon, UK: Prospect Books (facsimilie).

(Another source for historical pastry recipe, although one I did not rely on as heavily as Dawson or Plat.)

Plat, H. (printed 1654) Delightes for ladies. Retrieved February 2008 from the Early English Books Online database: http://wwwlib.umi.com/eebo.

(This edition of Delightes for ladies was printed in 1654. However, earlier printings of this book are dated closer to our period.)

Secondary and Modern Sources

Duchene, L. and Jones, B. (1999) Le Cordon Bleu Dessert Techniques. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc.

(A wonderful modern cookbook, with detailed instructions on technique, ingredients and improvisation.)

Hagen, A. (2006) Anglo-Saxon Food & Drink. Norfolk, England: Anglo-Saxon Books.

(An incredibly detailed analysis of historical food production, preparation, and storage. Interesting notes on grains and dairy.)

Rohde, E. S. (1922, 1971) The Old English Herbals. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications Inc. (an unabridged republication of the 1922 original published by Longmans, Green & Co.)

(A critical analysis of English herbals from ancient to colonial times, including excerpts from the primary sources. Includes the rosewater recipe from Askham’s Herbal.)

Useful Sources Online

Brief notes on the history of puff pastry. Last retrieved Feb. 29, 2008, from Le Gourmand Patissiere: http://www.gourmand.it/Default-en.htm .

(Short and lacking citations, but a useful overview.)

Olver, L. (2000) Food Timeline: history notes – pie & pastry. Retrieved Feb. 29, 2008, from Lynn Olver’s Food Timeline: http://www.foodtimeline.org/foodpies.html .

(A wonderful online source, complete with primary source excerpts.)

So: there's that. I have to resist the urge to go back and try to re-work and edit it after the fact! Also still need to back-fill the roses documentation.

Also have to work on planning the next couple months. We are still thinking of going down to the St. Vitus' dance event (because I LOVE dancing!) although it's a bit of a haul. I am leery of day-trippig it. I think the website said there was crash space, though, so maybe I will look into that.

In the meantime I have mostly been doing mundane sewing: we wound up getting a new suit on sale at B. Moss and I have been hemming Megan's pants. (We have 2 different pairs of pants since we are slightly different sizes; mine were petites' so they were short enough, but hers weren't so they needed about 3 inches taken off.) Got it about done; now I have to decide if I am satisfied with the results or not. I am waffling.

Ooh, waffles....

At last

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 02:01:10 GMT

Things have been nuts, and I will post more later, but at least I do want to get this posted before I forget:
Daily Bread: Recreating a Staple of Medieval Life
(Still) An Ongoing Experiment
Lady Rebekah of Samandar (Rebecca Simmons)
Winter, AS XLII (2007-2008)
(A Continuation of Last Year’s Project)

Introduction

From the fine white pandemaine or manchets enjoyed by the rich and privileged, to the coarser bread made from beans, millet or rye, bread was a dietary staple throughout the Middle Ages and Renaissance. While few period recipes were recorded (perhaps because bread was so ubiquitous), some famously survive. These demonstrate that Medieval bread could truly be a luxury food. From the simplest ingredients, bakers could form soft, white, leavened loaves. However, like many historical sources, surviving bread recipes tend to be vague about the quantity of ingredients and the exact steps the cook should take. As someone who has been baking for more than 10 years, I still found it difficult to bake a successful loaf of bread using a historical method and ingredients.

Redacting from several sources to finally create a successful recipe has been an ongoing project. I began last year, submitting my work-in-progress at Kingdom Arts & Sciences Festival 2007. I knew I was still missing something – my bread wouldn’t rise correctly or hold its shape. Something was wrong with my ingredients or my technique. Months later, having briefly set the project aside, I tried a slightly different redaction with a different approach to rising and kneading. After a few improvements (and much more experimentation), I have finally settled on a redaction that yields a loaf as deliciously simple today as it was in the Middle Ages.

Contents

Primary Sources
Ingredient Notes
Redaction
Redacted Recipe
Bibliography

Primary Sources
Here are several surviving bread recipes from the Middle Ages, all of which I used for information and inspiration. Platina’s recipe ended up being the source I followed most closely. (Complete information for each work can be found in the Sources section at the end).

Platina, from De Honesta Voluptate (14XX, trans. Milham): Anyone, therefore, who does baking should use flour which is well-ground from wheat.... From this, he should separate the bran and the inferior flour with a very fine flour sieve, then put the flour, with warm water and some salt, on a baker’s table closed in at the sides…. If you live in damp places and a bit of leaven is used, [the baker], with help from his associates, kneads to that consistency at which bread can be made fairly easily. Let the baker be careful not to put in too much or too little leaven, for, from the former, bread can acquire a sour taste, and, from the latter, it can become too heavy too digest…. Bread should be well-baked in an oven and not used the same day.

“Fine Manchet,” R. Jones (1594): Take halfe a bushell of fine flower twise boulted, and a gallon of faire luke warm water, almost a handful of white salt, and almost a pinte of yest, then temper all these together, without any more liquor, as hard as ye can handle it: then let it lie halfe an hower, then take it vp, and make your Manchetts, and let them stande almost an hower in the ouen.

“Manchets after my Ladie Graies use,” R. Jones (1594): Take two peckes of fine flower, which must be twice boulted, if you will haue your manchet verie faire: Then lay it in a place where ye doe vse to lay your dowe for your bread, and make a litle hole in it, and put in that water as much leauen as a crab, or a pretie big apple, and as much white salt as will into an Egshell, and all to breake your leuen in the water, and put into your flower halfe a pinte of good Ale yest, and so stir this liquor among a litle of your flower, so that ye must make it but thin at the first meeting, and then couer it with flower, and if it be in the winter, ye must keepe it verie warm, and in summer it shall not need so much heate, for in the Winter it will not rise without warmeth. Thus let it lie two howers and a halfe: then at the second opening take more liquor as ye thinke will serue to wet al the flower. Then put in a pinte and a halfe of good yest, and so all to breake it in short peeces, after yee haue well laboured it, and wrought it fiue or sixe tymes, so that yee bee sure it is throughlie mingled together, so continue labouring it, till it come to a smoothe paste, and be well ware at the second opening that yee put not in too much liquor sodenlie, for then it wil run, and if ye take a litle it will be stiffe, and after the second working it must lie a good quarter of an hower, and keep it warme: then take it vp to the moulding board, and with as much speede as is possible to be made, mould it vp, and set it into the Ouen, of one pecke of flower ye may make ten caste of Manchets faire and good.

Ingredient Notes

Yeast: One major difference between historical recipes and modern recipes is that commercial yeast is not easily available. While some recipes (such as Jones’, above) specify brewers’ yeast, others simply mention “leaven.” This leaven is generally believed to be a sourdough starter, and Platina’s recipe confirms this assumption. The warning against using too much leaven (for fear of sour bread) or too little leaven (for fear of dense bread) will be familiar to any baker who uses sourdough starters.

A sourdough starter is one of the simplest leavenings to cultivate and use. While they can be “seeded” with another sourdough or fresh fruit (particularly grapes, whose skins contain wild yeasts), they can also be grown without any ingredients other than flour, water, and the wild yeasts in the air. Once cultivated, a sourdough starter can be maintained almost indefinitely by feeding it periodically with flour and water.

After a little unsuccessful experimentation in baking with brewers’ yeast, I decided to cultivate a wild sourdough starter. While there are many ways to do this, I chose the simplest: I mixed a 1:1 ratio of flour and water in a non-metal jar, covered it with a cloth and left it in the kitchen for a week. Every day I poured off some of the starter and added more flour and water, stirring with a wooden spoon. After about 1 to 2 weeks, the starter bubbled and frothed at the top; its smell began to remind me of souring milk or beer. On warmer days, I could even watch bubbles form and rise to the surface of my starter.

Flour: Other than yeast, the bread’s main ingredient is flour. All three recipes specify sifted wheat flour, which would be finer and whiter than coarser whole-meal flour. When I first began the project I tried to replicate this sifting step by grinding my own wheat and sifting it through finer and finer cloth. However, I ended up with fine flour even darker than the whole-wheat flour in my pantry! Perhaps I am missing a step, and surely medieval millers were better at flour-sifting than I am. In any case, most bakers would have purchased flour already ground, and these recipes call for sifted white flour. I used unbleached all-purpose flour, which seems like the closest approximation to what a baker would have used in period.

Wheat “Bits:” None of the original recipes mention how a baker should keep loaves from sticking to the baking surface. One possibility is a fine coating of oil; another possibility is a dusting of flour on the underside of each loaf. I used the hard bran or grain bits from the flour in my earlier experiment in wheat-milling. These were a by-product that was logically available, plentiful and would probably otherwise have been wasted. They work quite well: a generous pinch, strewn on a baking pan, keeps the loaf from sticking as it rises and bakes.

Redaction (or, Trial and Error)

Originally I had tried to redact Platina’s recipe in a modern framework: I kneaded the dough together for quite some time, set it to rise, shaped it, rose again and baked. After realizing that the sourdough bread rose far slower than modern recipes, I wondered if the “bread should be…..not used the same day” instruction towards the end of Platina’s recipe might refer to the unbaked dough. I don’t speak Latin, so I am not sure if this is a reasonable guess or not, but I did have more success with a long, slow rise. However, the risen dough now puddled when I tried to bake it and wouldn’t hold its shape. Frustrated, I set the project aside.

Late last year, I read about a “newly discovered” slow-rise bread technique. This recipe was unusual since its slow, cool rise lets the yeasts “knead” the bread dough themselves – the bread only needs a little kneading before each rise to mix and shape it. In fact, if the dough was too moist and was over-kneaded as well as rising slowly, it formed shapeless flat loaves, just as I had experienced in my earlier attempts to redact Platina. As I read about this slow-rise technique, I laughed at the idea that it was “newly discovered” – the simple ingredients and the technique seemed very reminiscent of the medieval recipes I had been trying to recreate. I started to wonder if a redaction using this framework (instead of the framework of a normal modern bread recipe) would be more successful.

I began by paring down the ingredient list – while the modern slow-rise bread recipe used beer and vinegar for flavoring, both Platina’s recipe and “Fine Manchet” used only flour, salt, leavening and water. My first loaves were far too dense, so – taking Platina’s advice – I increased the amount of the sourdough leavening (decreasing the water at the same time). After several more tries, I found a successful ratio of sourdough/flour/water to use. Now my bread rose, held its form, and baked up wonderfully. Although the ingredients were plain, the flavor did not suffer, thanks to the slight tang of the sourdough leavening.

After a little consideration, I chose to shape my bread into classic round loaves. While some sources show oblong or narrow loaves of bread, round loaves – both smaller and full-sized – seem to have been more common through much of Europe. (See pictures.) Round loaves are also simpler to form and handle, while oblong loaves easily deform or break.

Once I had settled on a recipe and shape, I began to experiment with the baking itself. Large commercial baker’s ovens, particularly late in our period, would have baked most like modern ovens – they could be held close to one temperature for long periods of time. However, smaller and earlier ovens (including outdoor beehive ovens) probably baked with slowly-cooling residual heat. In other words, a hot fire would be built in the oven, swept out, and then the bread dough would be placed into the hot oven to bake. The oven’s brick, clay or stone sides would gradually release heat as the oven cooled, baking the bread.

My favorite modern recipe for slow-rise bread calls for a heavy Dutch oven to be heated to 500 F in the oven. Once preheated to 500 F, the oven temperature is set to a cooler 425 F, and the bread is placed in the preheated Dutch oven to bake. Midway through baking, the lid is removed from the Dutch oven, and the temperature falls even further while the surface of the bread is allowed to crisp. This is not a bad approximation, since the temperature begins quite high and gradually sinks. However, using the Dutch oven as a baking pan does change the bread’s texture and shape, and period sources suggest bread was simply baked on the surface of the oven rather than in a walled baking pan. I decided to try baking my bread free-form.

First, I pre-heated the oven to 500 F, also preheating a large cast-iron skillet (to mimic the hot floor or shelf in a fire-heated oven). Once the oven was hot, I placed the bread in the middle of the hot skillet, returned it to the oven and immediately lowered the temperature to 425 F. As the bread baked I gradually lowered the temperature further. The finished loaf had a firm brown crust and its shape was closer to period paintings of round loaves.

After experimenting with both ingredients and baking, I believe my bread is a fair re-creation of a period loaf in both taste and texture. After having eaten many loaves of bread (some better than others) over the past weeks, I have come to appreciate bread’s versatility and deceptively simple appeal. Moreover, after having baked these many loaves, I am even more impressed with the bakers, cooks, and housewives of the past who baked fine loaves of bread without all the conveniences of today’s kitchens!

Redacted Recipe
Ingredients

-3 cups unbleached white flour
-1 ½ tsp. plain non-iodized salt
-10 tbsp. thick liquid sourdough starter
-3/4 cup plus 2 tbsp. warm water

Do NOT use metal utensils or bowls – they may interfere with the leavening!

1. In a broad bowl or on a countertop with a lip, stir together flour and salt.

2. Add sourdough starter and water. (The water should be about the temperature of the inside of your wrist. If it is hotter it may kill the leavening.) Stir and gently knead just until dough forms a messy ball. It will not be smooth, but don’t worry. If the mixture seems much too dry or much too wet, sprinkle on a tablespoon of flour or water and stir a little more.

3. Make sure dough is in a non-metal bowl and cover with a slightly damp towel. Let sit at room temperature for 8-12 hours. Dough should now be soft, slightly bubbly, and expanded.

4. Knead dough for about 10-20 strokes on a lightly-floured board. Form into a ball. Place into a lightly-oiled bowl (again, nonmetallic) and set aside for 2 hours.

5. Preheat oven to 500 F. Place a wide cast-iron skillet or griddle in the oven to preheat (a baking stone or sturdy baking sheet would probably work as well). Once preheated, sprinkle baking surface with a pinch of ground wheat bran (or cornmeal). Carefully transfer dough to the baking surface, and cut a shallow “X” in the top. Return to oven quickly.

6. Immediately turn oven temperature down to 425 F. After 20 minutes, turn oven down to 400 F. After 20 more minutes, test bread – if it sounds hollow when tapped and doesn’t make “spitty” noises when held up to your ear, it is probably done. (Alternately, if it registers 210 F on an instant-read thermometer in the thickest part, it is done.) If the bread is not quite done, return it to the oven, close the door, turn the oven off and let the bread continue to bake in the oven for another 5-10 minutes. Cool bread on a rack – it is best if you let it cool before slicing.

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Jones, R. (1594, 1597) The good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin. Digital text by Sam Wallace. Retrieved February 27, 2008, from Thomas Gloning’s page at the Justus-Liebig Universität Giessen Web site, http://www.uni-giessen.de/gloning/ghhk.

(The full text of this book, as well as several others, are available online at the referenced website. While the Uni’s main page is German, the primary-source site is in English.)

Milham, M.E. (1999) Platina’s ‘On Right Pleasure and Good Health’, A Critical Abridgement and Translation of De Honesta Voluptate et Valetudine. Asheville, NC: Pegasus Press.

(An abridged version of Milham’s earlier full translation. Includes a translation of Platina’s writing on nutrition and healthy living as well as Milham’s insightful analysis.)

Secondary & Modern Sources

Alt, K. (2008, January/February) No-Knead Bread 2.0. Cook’s Illustrated, 18-20.

(My favorite no-knead bread article: definitely a modern yeast-risen
recipe, but still very simple. It inspired me to try re-creating Medieval bread with a slow-rise method. Also discusses rise, density and texture.)

Banham, D. (2004) Food in Anglo-Saxon England. Gloucestershire, England: Tempus Publications Ltd. (now part of The History Press).

(An accessible and enjoyable discussion of historical food and drink, although
not as detailed or in-depth as Hagen’s.)

Hagen, A. (2006) Anglo-Saxon Food & Drink. Norfolk, England: Anglo-Saxon Books.

(An incredibly detailed analysis of every aspect involved in food production,
preparation, and storage in historical times.)

Useful Sources Online

Larsdatter, Karen. Medieval and Renaissance Material Culture Linkspages. Last retrieved February 29, 2008: http://www.larsdatter.com.

(A wonderful site with links to material culture sources. I first found links to the Tacuinum Sanitatis illustrations at Mesterinde Karen’s site.)

Priest-Dorman, C. (1999) Building and Using a Medieval-Style Hemispherical Bake Oven. Retrieved February 27, 2008: http://www.cs.vassar.edu/~capriest/brikoven.html.

(A step-by-step practical guide to making and using a brick oven.)

Seton, P. (2006) Glossary of Medieval and Renaissance Culinary Terms. Retrieved February 26, 2008, from Cindy Renfrow’s historical cooking website: http://www.thousandeggs.com/glossary.html.

(This is both a useful glossary of medieval terminology and a wonderful bibliographical reference, thanks to its extensive citations.)

I am going to come back and tweak the formatting some more, and add specific links to the referenced pictures. But at least now it's up. Puff pastry coming soon! :-)

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 16:26:12 GMT

Recently, isenglass linked to this post over in attack_laurel's LJ. It's an interesting and worthwhile post, very thought-provoking. I don't agree with absolutely everything (of course - when do I ever?) but I think she makes some very good points.

That, plus several other recent discussions I've seen, got me thinking about A&S competitions in general. I think both competitions and non-competition displays are good for the A&S community. Open displays, artisan's row, discussions, classes - all wonderful, all fun, all instructive. These sorts of displays have gotten a lot of good press recently, it seems, and that's great. However, sometimes the tone seems to shift into "Let's just ditch competitions, we don't need them anyhow." That, I disagree strongly with.

I like competitions, although it took some thought to pin down why. More than anything else, I think competitions inspire me to do my best. I know this isn't the case with everyone - some people don't like competitions so they avoid them; some people are more inspired by teaching or by interacting with people than entering a display competition. But I also don't think I'm the only one who likes competitions, who likes the challenge and the little bit of pressure that comes with competing.

Of course there are downsides to competition, too. One of them is remembering that winning isn't everything. Of course, winning is nice. But not winning doesn't mean I've failed - I still got the knowledge and experience from prepping the entry, I still got the feedback from folks who saw and judged it, I still got to show and discuss my project, etc, etc. It's even tougher if I actually think I was judged poorly for bad reasons - and it does occasionally happen. Sometimes a judge's comments make it clear that s/he hasn't actually read some of the documentation, or completely missed part of the display. Maybe it means I need to arrange things better; maybe it means the judge was in la-la land. Sometimes it seems like I was judged badly because of the judge's opinion, which I disagree with. (You think I should have added more X? Well, I think it already tastes too strongly of X!) Occasionally the comments seem downright contradictory - I should make the documentation shorter and go into more detail on Y, Z, and Q!?

Mostly, though, the judges' comments are helpful and genuinely intended to improve my work, even if I disagree with them. "Missed a few details" or "disagreed with me" are perfectly understandable opinions, even if I find them annoying. We're human. Judges aren't infallible, and I'm sure not infallible. And I have never run into one of the quasi-mythological Very Bad Judges -- you know, one who is rude, hurtful, ignorant and wrong all at once. Maybe it's just luck of the draw, but even judging commentary I didn't like was always professional, never personal or mean.

I think classes on judging are a great thing. The few times I've judged, especially early on, I felt very out of my depth. What are the fine points of judging etiquette? What do you do if, halfway through judging an entry, you find you're totally confused by the art and can't judge it fairly? What if you suspect you always judge higher or lower than everyone else? Overall, though, I think most judges do a good job and most juding is as fair as anything judged by passionate volunteers (who are also human) can possibly be. Even if I sometimes don't like the results. :-)

In brief: as far as I'm concerned, a little competition is a positive thing. While not winning can sting, being able to both win and lose gracefully is a vaulable skill that everyone can use (me included). I'm an adults, and I hope I can handle the fact that sometimes everyone makes mistakes - even judges. In the same vein, I'm an adult and I hope I can recognize that most judging is fair, even when it means that my lovely project-du-jour didn't win. I can realize that winning is the icing, not the cake; competition is for everyone's benefit, not just my own; and nobody can win all the time, so not winning doesn't mean I'm a failure. See? Just like kindergarten. Nothing we all can't handle. If you ask me, competition is just as important to the A&S community as teaching, demonstrating and all that other wonderful stuff. For me personally, competition is what inspires me to excel (or try to excel) - which makes it a very powerful and important part of being an artisan.

I need to remember to post my documentation for the bread and the pastry here, so I can refer back to them. Also, while working on this I found that I never got around to posting the documentation for the rose project. Crud. So I will need to go back and do that too. (Bad Rebecca, no biscuit.)

OTOH, I found that Kitty has a lovely picture online somewhere of the rose display, so I hope to find and post that too. And with all the people with cameras at KASF, someone must have taken a pic of my bread/pastry display…. Right? Well, maybe not. It was off in a corner. But at least someone has to have a picture of the hats. If I find a pic, I will post it. I love those hats. :-) As far as accessories go, hats are just about as cool as shoes. I just wish hats were more standard in day-to-day wear.

Working on getting a good pattern, and then a good pattern-drafting method (for other folks' legs not just mine), for pieced stockings. In mid-/late-April I'm teaching an A&S class on that, since it's something I have an idea of how to do and have long wanted to actually do. Now I have to do it, because in a month I have to teach it! Have drafted up and scrapped a couple patterns - they were close, but I want something that's actually a good method for making a pattern that will fit. Not just something that's a good start, then needs to be majorly adjusted. I think I know where to go next, though.

Sadly, whatever stockings I make will probably be pretty baggy around my ankles, because my ankles are skinny compared to the width of my heel at its biggest point! Wide feet + thin ankles = baggy ankles on non-knit stockings, even if they are cut on the bias. Can't complain too much, though; my ankles and wrists are just about the only parts of me that are consistently thin! :-P

At the same time, cossaccountant is getting all geeked out over making a Tudor dress (you know, like the ones that show up on the portraits of Princess Elizabeth and Katherine Parr). She's borrowed Addie's copy of The Tudor Tailor and is contemplating fabrics, undergarments, and all that good stuff. I think it will be an absolutely smashing dress, and it should look good on her too. She's very frustrated about the scarcity of silk velvet, though.

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 17:32:20 GMT

Kind of drifting after KASF, without such a frenzied focus on ZOMG BAKING. Not a bad thing, though, since I don't think there was a day over the past 2 or 3 weeks where I didn't have flour under my fingernails.

The chief amusement during KASF was the hats. (Call me shallow…) James made cossaccountant and myself matching red hats to designate us as his assistants, since we were helping him run the Interbaronial Championship while he had to be elsewhere. (Personally I think this is a really good deal - easy work and great rewards!) So we wore these wonderful hats all day, and now they are home in the garb closet. Of course, now we have to find out what sort of garb they go with. My brain is convinced that I've seen something similar in Addie's books on Moorish or Turkish late-period costume, but I didn't run into anything online. (The hats are like James' blue one with the Spike trim - like a tall flower-pot with a thick rolled-sausage-style brim. Except ours are a little smaller, and red.) I think a little research is in order.

Other than the hats, there were a lot of wonderful exhibits and demonstrations. Not too surprising, really! I liked trying the syrups over at Michel's display (well, Michel's and several others' but I only remember his name). The pomegranate syrup was really nice, and I bet it would be great at parties with sparkling water and booze (although I am sure that's not a period way to serve it). The basil syrup was startling, since I'm used to thinking of basil as sweet - this was very herbal, almost like an herb tea. Clearly medicinal, but not unpleasant - just unexpected.

I loved Lady Alina's display on maritime medicine - very simple in some ways, but presented very clearly and on an incredibly interesting topic. I think the straightforward presentation made it more interesting, actually. Maybe I need to remember that when I am tempted to cram every little detail into my documentation and presentation….

Wish I had taken a closer look at the rune calendar stick. I remember thinking it sounded really neat, but something always seemed to come up whenever I thought to go over and look at it.

However, I did make it outside to see the clay oven and the blacksmithing exhibits. Megan really took to the blacksmithing. We also picked up a couple CD's from ~~Angevin~~ Camelot Treasures. Plus, where we were sitting we got to hear a fair amount of the performing arts competition - and some of that was just spectacular.

Of course, my stuff was with the entries for the Royal Baker competition. I got a lot of good feedback and maybe I will try again next year (third time's the charm?) - a lot of positive input in the commentary on the judging forms. The puff paste needed more work than the bread, which I did know - I focused too hard on the bread since it started off needing more work, and neglected the pastry a little.

Several people commented that the two plates of puff pastry were different (the sampling plate and the judges' plate). That's because the sampling plate was baked the night before, while the judges' plate was baked that morning - it was fresher, and more of the sugar was still stuck to it. Didn't think to explain that, but perhaps I should have since more than one person asked in their notes. I tend to like rosewater only as a very faint flavor - more of a scent than a real taste - but if I make this again I may add just a bit more, for a slightly stronger taste, since a couple judges mentioned that the pastry seemed bland. Maybe I will add a tiny bit more salt, too, although I kept that low for fear of overwhelming the rose flavor that I did add. (Too much salt and it's salty, too little salt and it has no flavor at all - just like everything else.) Plus, while even modern homemade puff pastry doesn't rise like the frozen stuff you can buy at the grocery store, I would still like mine to rise just a bit more. We'll see.

If I'm feeling especially OCD I may try making my own butter. Megan teased me about that but it is tempting. Homemade butter made from several days' cream would have a different fat percentage and slightly different taste than even commercial cultured butter.

The bread could use some improvement, of course, but overall I am pretty happy with where it ended up. I will have to decide if I want to try and improve this recipe further or look at other recipes to redact. Maybe I will look into using brewers' dregs as leavening, as a couple recipes mention - the one time I tried that it utterly failed to work. I wonder if there is something that modern brewers add to their wine that kills off the yeast, which may not have been done historically…. Well, that's mostly conjecture at this point, I have no idea. Maybe I will ask Bighead next time I see him.

I got some nice comments on my documentation, which made me very happy. I worry about my documentation, since my general philosophy is "never use 5 words when 10 will do." I edit my documentation and try to really tighten it up, but every time I cut something I'm worried that I'm leaving out an important part. Hey, I've been obsessing about the project for a long time by this point - it's all important stuff to me! :-) But I try to keep it short enough that people will read it, long enough to have useful information in it, and clearly organized so someone who is looking for X can find X without having to slog through Y, Z and Q first. The feedback I got at least reassured me that I'm not waaaaaay out in left field with my documentation - it doesn't need a complete overhaul, although some more tweaking and polishing never hurts.

Seeing the clay oven made me want to try building a brick or beehive oven in the backyard. Tim said he'd help me when I brought it up last year - although it may have been partially in jest, since I think he knew I didn't plan to actually do it! The other problem, of course, is room; the backyard isn't tiny but it already has a garden plot, the trailer, the tool locker, the clothesline and the pell in it. It's getting crowded. Then again, a small brick oven wouldn't take up thatmuch room…

So now I am trying to figure out what my next project will be, rather than letting myself run in a million directions at once (and not get anywhere). I want to make shoes - the half-done cutouts have a couple problems and I may just start over from scratch, now that I have some idea of what I'm doing. I also want to make some linen stockings; I have looked at the patterns and I want to give it a shot. If it works well I might even look into teaching a class on it (to go with everyone's nice new shoes!) Plus, I am still working on expanding my garb wardrobe; I have the lovely gold linen and I want to make a fitted Gothic gown from it. Even have the rough starting pattern for the bodice somewhere.

Eenie, meenie…

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 16:27:58 GMT

Thursday was Shoe Class II, and a lot of fun. We cut our duct-tape patterns into two pieces (top/vamp and sole), then flattened and traced onto paper. I extended my toes slightly - the trick is to extend both top & bottom piece by the same amount! Then we added some seam/room allowance around the pieces, cut out, and traced onto leather. I have now punched holes all the way around my pieces and begun sewing them together.

I will also oil/seal the leather at some point, probably after I've sewn them. From talking with Kim, neat's-foot oil or mink oil would be ideal but mineral oil will probably work. Since I have mineral oil (and I don't have either of the others), I think I will end up using it. I still have hopes of getting these done before KASF, but my heart won't be broken if it doesn’t work out that way.

Also, of course, I've been doing a bit more with the great bread experiment. Lessons so far: my oven will only heat to 550 F. Even with the oven preheated with cast-iron pan in it (to mimic a hot oven floor) and a couple hot bricks above (to radiate back), the bread doesn't bake nicely if I turn off the oven when I put the bread in. It gets cooked all the way through, but doesn't fill out as well as I'd like and the crust stays pale. I think a modern oven just loses heat too quickl for this to work. Next I will try just baking it on the griddle/surface, reducing the temperature gradually as it bakes. The original method I was using already did a bit of this - the oven started at 500, then went down to 425 as soon as the bread went in.

Finally, this has been the weekend of mad documentation scrambling. The source I thought I found last week for Platina (the bookseller) is apparently defunct - their emails go unanswered, their phone number has been disconnected. Megan points out that their website hasn't been updated in a couple of years. I am rather irritated. I looked and looked online, and couldn't find a new or secondhand copy of De honesta voluptate for sale anywhere (well, I saw what may have been one for $100, but that doesn't count). Google has a neat feature, though, that'll show you the closest library to stock a book - and the University of Richmond's Boatwright library had a copy. So on Saturday morning, cossaccountant and I did a quick road trip to Richmond.

"Quick" is a bit of a misnomer here, since we now live in Hampton and it was around 90 minutes to get to the University of Richmond. But we got there, grabbed the book, copied the passage and the info pages, and headed back home. It was very difficult not to walk up to the librarian and go "Can I buy this book? Please? Pretty pleaaaase!?" She'd've looked at me like I was absolutely off my rocker, I'm sure. But this book (that I'd been looking all over for) was way down in the basement stacks, and from the spine and condition of it, it looked like it had hardly been read or even opened at all. ("Let me take you home, little book - I'll appreciate you a lot more than these folks have!")

All in all, I have my pages, and I'm happy.

Also, I found out that The Good Housewife's Jewel is the other book cossaccountant had ordered for me as a Christmas/Twelfth Night present. Of course it was back-ordered and hasn't arrived yet. (It has a good puff pastry recipe, on which my redaction is based.) Addie didn't have a copy either, but suggested I email the Merry Rose to see if anyone with a copy could send me the relevant pages. (Campfire was down or I'd've started there.) So I emailed the MR, and got several responses - now I have the pages from the Jewel as well as a similar recipe from Delights for Ladies, and several other responses from generous people who were willing to help. :-) So I am very glad about that.

Bread is rising at home. Shoes are getting done. Seams are getting finished. Documentation is in rough outline form, soon to be in rough draft form. Fingers crossed!

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 01:24:24 GMT

And now in sepia!

Platina, where art thou?

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 18:55:52 GMT

Does anyone out there have a copy of Platina's De honesta voluptate et valetudine/On Honest Indulgence, particularly as edited by Milham, that I could borrow?

Especially if you're a reasonable driving distance from Hampton?

I saw a couple copies on Amazon a couple weeks ago, one for as low as $10. But I didn't buy them. I thought, oh, I'll be good and check it out from the library instead. However: the Hampton library system doesn't have a copy (not too surprising). CNU's library doesn't have a copy (rather disappointing). William & Mary's SWEM library doesn't have a copy either (aargh!). Now the cheapest one on Amazon is $50 (a little more than I can spend), and I can't find a single copy on Half.com or eBay.

That'll teach me to put off buying books! I guess the take-home lesson is: next time, just buy it.

I mean, I can find the recipe I want excerpted consistently in several other places, but I feel odd citing a primary source if I haven't actually referred to a copy of it (but instead only seen the excerpts). This is irritating.

ETA: Well, apparently this site (Foodbooks) has it available. So that's good. I am 95% sure I only need the abridged version, which is even better. I've emailed them and now I wait to hear back on how long it would take them to ship….

I am still moderately irritated that Swem doesn't seem to have it. I thought they would for sure. I suppose there isn't much call for archaic cookbooks.

Now with a little non-bread content!

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 14:53:35 GMT

Last night's experiments with baking method were, well, experimental. I preheated the oven to 500 F, with a cast-iron Dutch oven and a cast-iron skillet in the oven. Stuck a small risen round loaf of dough in each one, shoved them back in the oven, shut the oven off, and went to bed. Despite my enormous curiosity, I managed not to open the oven door.

Results: the bread cooked on the heated flat surface (the iron skillet) rose nicely, had a good shapes/structure, but was pale on the outside and a little too moist on the inside. The loaf cooked in the Dutch oven was darker (as I expected) but denser and moist - I think it sat in its own steam overnight. Neither one was quite right.

There are two things I want to try now. First, I want to start the oven at an even higher temperature - 550 or more (I don't know how high my oven will go). I want to leave the iron griddle/skillet and Dutch oven in there longer, so they have time to completely heat. I may even do what I was fiddling with last year, and stick several bricks in the oven to heat as well - they will retain and radiate back the heat better, more like a brick or clay oven would have done. Second, I want to try removing the lid from the Dutch oven quickly after the baking is over, so the bread can cool without getting all steamed. (Of course, the problem with that is under my current setup the bread finishes baking around 1 a.m. However, if I keep having problems sleeping, then I may be wandering around the kitchen at 1 a.m. anyhow!)

So it was another learning experience. I have a few other things I want to try, though. Higher temperature, longer pre-heating period, and we'll see how that goes.

I also need to do a little prep for the puff pastry portion of this project (now how's that for alliteration?). First, I need to make or get rosewater - I prefer to make it, so I'll dig around in my freezer for roses. I have that nice rosewater recipe from Askham's Herbal (I think) that I made for the rose project - I think it will add a better flavor. Also, I need to get some cultured butter. A lot of cultured butter, since puff pastry uses a lot of butter. I had a hunch that cultured butter would be a better approximation of medieval butter than sweet-cream butter. Wikipedia agrees with me, and for similar reasons: before modern commercial production, butter was probably made from several days' worth of cream, some of which had started to go slightly sour. Cultured butter won't be a perfect approximation, but it will be closer. However, I need to find a slightly more scientific source than Wikipedia before I write up my documentation!

The downside, of course, is that cultured butter is more expensive. And Megan won't eat the leftovers, because she thinks it tastes funny. (She's right, it does taste funny. I just happen to like the way it tastes!) Maybe I will tempt fate and only get enough to make one fresh batch - I had a few tweaks in mind from the last time I worked on the puff pastry recipe, but nothing too drastic and I was comfortable with the recipe then. People sometimes seem scared of puff pastry - but while it's time-consuming, it's not really difficult once you get the hang of it.

Tonight - lesson II of the great shoe course! I am looking forward to it.

Oh, and the icon of the muse Urania is in honor of last night's eclipse, which I totally and completely missed due to cloud cover and rain. I even missed the snow which isenglass got as a consolation prize. I am a little miffed.