Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Playing with History -- Roman Empire Honey Cheesecake

Yes, we are still in a pandemic and yes, I still need to minimize my trips to the store.  But if I plan ahead well, I can get some ingredients I don't normally keep around the house (although I am not always sure why I don't!) and make historical recipes.  So while I still consider myself in the "Making Do Challenge", I'm going to stop using that phrase in the title of my posts.

Today I was looking at a webpage by another blogger.  She (I don't see her name on the blog) made a recipe from PBS.org and Squidoo Ancient Roman Recipes (which is another blogger site!).   It was for Libum, a sort of cheesecake soaked in honey.  You can view her page here.

I liked the idea of a dessert that is a cross between bread and cake, and it only uses a few ingredients.  At first I thought I would not be making it for this blog, so I made it according to her directions.  It came out just as she directed:  four lovely loaves with a mild cheesy flavor, the scent of bay, and the sweetness of honey.  My guest taster and I both truly enjoyed them after a dinner of a big tossed green salad (which also had some sliced meat and crumbled cheese on it).

We both wanted to have them again, which got me to thinking about what I would do instead of what her instructions said.  And that, my friends, had me decide to write it up for my blog.

Since I am not following the historical directions as closely as I normally would, I decided that "Playing with History" was the best description for my post.  In a way it is an historical upgrade but I see it more as a side step instead.

Libum  (Honey cakes or Honey Cheesecake)

(these are from the PBS.org site)

Ancient Roman Libum Recipe

Libum to be made as follows: 2 pounds cheese well crushed in a mortar; when it is well crushed, add in 1 pound bread-wheat flour or, if you want it to be lighter, just 1/2 a pound, to be mixed with the cheese. Add one egg and mix all together well. Make a loaf of this, with the leaves under it, and cook slowly in a hot fire under a brick.

- from Cato's On Agriculture, reprinted in The Classical Cookbook



Modern Roman Libum Recipe (serves 4)

1 cup plain, all purpose flour
8 ounces ricotta cheese
1 egg, beaten
bay leaves
1/2 cup clear honey

Sift the flour into a bowl. Beat the cheese until its soft and stir it into the flour along with the egg. Form a soft dough and divide into 4. Mold each one into a bun and place them on a greased baking tray with a fresh bay leaf underneath. Heat the oven to 425° F. Cover the cakes with your brick and bake for 35-40 minutes until golden-brown. Warm the honey and place the warm cakes in it so that they absorb it. Allow to stand 30 minutes before serving.

And bay leaves and frontignac.
My Notes

I followed the modern recipe except I first put the ricotta into a bowl, measured the flour over it, then poured the beaten egg over the top.  I mixed it with a spoon until it was barely mixed, then used my hands to finish mixing it.  The spoon came in handy to scrape the dough off the sides of the bowl.

It was a little sticky to work with but came together as a cohesive ball with just a little hand mixing.  I was careful not to overwork it; I kept thinking about how quick breads are best with minimal mixing.

Soft, moist, but not too sticky
Instead of four cakes, I made eight little ones.  Each one sat on half of a bay leaf.



The oven temperature was 375 degrees F and they baked for 30 minutes before they turned lightly golden brown.

They puffed!
I decided that four of them would soak in honey, which I diluted a little with water and warmed on the stove.  The other four would soak in the elderflower syrup, frontignac, which I had written about in a previous post (but did not warm).  (See here for how to make frontignac.)

As soon as the cakes were done, I flipped each one over and peeled off the bay leaf.

Leaf off, leaf on.  I love the leaf imprint!
Then, while they were still very warm, I put them into the honey and the frontignac to soak.  I let them soak an entire hour.
in frontignac
in slightly diluted and warmed honey
The Verdict

The first time I made them, they soaked about 15 minutes in warmed undiluted honey while we ravenously hovered over them and then couldn't wait any longer.  They smelled wonderful!  The bay scents the air and stimulates the appetite.  There was some honey soaked into the cakes, which was tasty.  We sopped up the rest of the honey with the cakes as we were eating them.

This time I managed to control myself and wait the entire hour.

I diluted the honey this time to make it more syrupy than just warming it.  I wanted it to soak into the cakes more.

After soaking for one hour, I noticed that the frontignac appeared to have been absorbed more than the honey but both syrups still had not been completely absorbed.

I flipped the cakes over to put a little glaze on top of each one, then decorated them with borage flowers that were from my garden.

Just too cute!
We had them for dessert, two each.  Both had their syrup soaked into the bottoms and up about 1/4 inch.  Both were tasty and flavorful!  Bay, cheese, honey or elderflower, all in a light bread base.  I liked the honey best and my guest taster liked the frontignac best.  Both were good.

You can see how far the syrup soaked into the cake.
The only difference I noticed between making the small ones and the large ones is that the small ones seemed a little drier in the middle.  Not bad, just a small difference.  We enjoyed them with a homemade fig wine as an aperitif.

Success!  I might make them again and try making six instead of four or eight.  Making the servings a little bigger might keep them moist without making them too big.



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