To Make a Creamapple Pie

Much of my historical cooking demonstration experience revolves around the Elizabethan period, that is, food from the reign of England's Queen Elizabeth I in the late 1500s.  It is acceptable to cook medieval recipes for this time period, but it really helps to have resources that match up with that era.  

One very good resource is Elinor Fettiplace's Receipt Book:  Elizabethan Country House Cooking as brought to us by Hilary Spurling.  Ms. Fettiplace was married to Sir Richard Fettiplace of Appleton Manor in Oxfordshire.  You can read more about her here.  Ms. Spurling is an author who cooked from the book for ten years before publishing it.  You can read more about her here.

Ms. Fettiplace wrote her receipt book (we use "recipe" instead of "receipt") by hand, passed it on to other family members who added to it and then passed it on.  Ms. Spurling acquired the book when it was inherited by her husband, John Spurling.

What I like about it is that the receipts are closer to what "ordinary" people would have made, keeping in mind that the Fettiplace family had more wealth than the average lower class worker.  When you read the recipes, you see many simple and tasty dishes and not the elaborate ones used by the very wealthy to impress at feasts.  

I chose a receipt on page 58, To Make a Creamapple Pie.  There are so many other receipts I want to try!

ISBN 0-670-81592-6

The way to format receipts in the Elizabethan times was in paragraph form.  This uses less space than our modern format.  It also gives few (if any) measurements and cooking times.  Measurements depend on the quantities you have available and cooking times depend on the size of the oven and the size of the fire that heats its.  Ms. Fettiplace assumes you have, or will get, experience in judging all this.  Fortunately, Ms. Spurling gives us her redaction, which I used but organized to our modern standards.

Original Receipt

Take your apples, & slice them, & put some butter & sugar to them, & so put them in the paste, & bake them, when they are baked cut open the pie, & put in a great deal of sweet cream, & stir it well togither, & then let it stand a little, till it bee somewhat cold, & so serve it to the boord.

Redaction

2 pounds tart cooking apples (see notes)

4 rounded tablespoons brown sugar

"a good-sized knob of butter" (I used nearly 1/4 cup)

1/2 pint cream (I used more)

dough for a two-crust, 9-inch pie

Two pounds apples is just four of these.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (or 350 degrees if the pie pan is glass or ceramic).

Line the pie pan with the bottom crust.

Quarter and core the apples, then slice thinly, leaving the peel on.  Spread in pie pan, piling it up higher in the middle than at the edge of the pan knowing they will settle while cooking.

Sprinkle the brown sugar over the top of the apples.  

Cut the cold butter into chips and slivers, and sprinkle them across the top of the apples.  I just held the knob over the pan and chipped away at it, letting the pieces fall onto the pie.

Cut several holes in the top crust then place on the pie.  Seal the top and bottom edges together.

Bake for 45 minutes.

As soon as the pie is out of the oven, use a funnel to help pour the cream into the holes.  Pour in as much cream as it will hold without overflowing.

Let cool to room temperature.  

Notes

I live in California, so the apples Ms. Spurling recommends, Bramley, are not available.  The internet told me that Granny Smith, Braeburn, Cortland, or Winesap are good substitutes, so I got Granny Smith.  These are green, tart cooking apples and are known to hold their shape when cooked. 

I bought 2 pints of cream and was glad because the pie took 1 1/4 pints until it was full.  Maybe because I used a 9-inch pan and piled the apples up so high?

I wanted to try Ms. Fettiplace's idea of cutting open the pie, but modified the idea to baking the top crust with parchment paper along the edges to keep it from sticking to the bottom crust.  You will see the paper in the pictures.  This idea did not work out as the top crust stuck to the apples and started to break when I attempted lifting it.  So I used Ms. Spurling's idea of using a funnel to pour the cream into the vent holes once I pulled the paper strips away.  The top sealed to the bottom anyway while cooling.

This crust experience makes me think that Ms. Fettiplace used a more robust and/or flexible pie crust than the store-bought one I used.  She felt you could cut it open and not have it break up at all.

Use this many apples

With sugar and butter

Skip the paper strips.  Just add the crust with vent holes.

Beautiful!

Now it is a creamapple pie.

The Verdict

It looked beautiful out of the oven and cooled.  

Cooled and ready to eat.

It sliced wonderfully.  The cream had set during the cooling process and did not pour out of the crust once it was cut.

No runny cream!

My regular guest taster and I loved it.  It was not an apple pie as our taste buds expected as it didn't contain the spices such as cinnamon that our tastebuds expected.  But the apple flavor was there and the cream added a richness and, well, creaminess to the experience.  The crust delivered a nice crunch, too.

I felt I should have sliced the apples thinner.  Not that they were bad, but I felt that some needed a little more cooking.  So perhaps I could have left it in the oven another 10 minutes or so, but I worried I would burn the crust.

We both tried to imagine if cinnamon or cardamom or other spices would be a good addition.  Maybe.  But the pie as it was had a unique flavor, and I'm not sure I want to change that.

Two more guest tasters tried it.  One did not like it because she tasted a "tang" that reminded her of sour cream, which she dislikes.  The other enjoyed it but noticed that it was not the "usual" apple pie - she missed the spices she expected.  So she wasn't thrilled as we were but she liked it.

Ms. Spurling commented that the pie should not be served cold as the butter coagulates and is not pleasant to eat.  We warmed our refrigerated leftovers in the microwave for just long enough to remove the chill from the pie.  That worked out well.

Success!  Give it a try but be prepared for something different than what our tastebuds have been trained to expect from an apple pie.  You might use red (less tart) apples instead of the Granny Smiths.

Lumbardy Tartes -- The Sequel

Yesterday I wrote about my first attempt at making a Lumbardy Tart -- a savory beet-filled pie from the Dining with William Shakespeare book.

I kept thinking about it and realized I really needed to make it again, and make it thicker and more flavorful, if I could.

So here we go, Attempt Number Two!  My redaction for a 9-inch pie pan.

My Redaction (see the previous post for more details)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F or 425 degrees F if using a glass or ceramic pie pan.

I made the same pie crust as Ms. Lorwin did and loved it even more.  It came out drier than the first attempt, which made it easier to work with.  It rested in the refrigerator while I made the filling.

Filling:

1 1/2 lb beets
2 cups shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
1 tablespoon dried bread crumbs
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
3 egg yolks
1/2 cup currants, soaked in boiling water for 3 minutes then drained
4 tablespoons butter, melted

Following Ms. Lorwin's directions but using the above quantities yielded a 9 inch pie pan that was adequately filled.

Stuffed to the brim!

I used the same little cutters to make a design on the top crust.  This time the dough didn't stretch as much, plus the holes were cut further apart.  I like the way the design turned out.



I was using a ceramic pan so I baked it at 425 degrees F for 20 minutes, then at 325 degrees F for 25 minutes.  This seemed about right.

Not even a tad overbaked.

The Verdict

The crust was crispy, flaky, and tasty, just as before!  I liked that it didn't come across as overbaked, not even a little.

The thicker filling was more impressive visually.  One piece was quite filling.

Look at that flaky crust!!!

But the flavor was so much better!

The beet flavor was still dominant but having more currants made it more balanced.  Their bit of chewy sweetness added an interesting twist as you ate it.

I used four times the amount of spice as Ms. Lorwin called for.  This meant that you could actually taste the cinnamon and ginger, but their flavors were not too much.  They were supporting characters and I really only knew they were there when I focused on them; otherwise they added a wonderful depth.

I used the same amount of melted butter as for an 8 inch pie and think this was just right for the 9 inch pie.  Not greasy on my lips but nicely rich.

Now I would say this wasn't a pie that was made of beets (as I would consider saying for yesterday's post) but a pie that started with beets and became so much more.  The other flavors made it intriguing.

Success again!  I am so glad I tried it again.  I recommend it as a surprising main course for a light dinner, and the leftovers are just as good.

Lumbardy Tartes, and a Happy New Year to You!

The New Year is upon us: 2020!  I wish us all a good year -- to everyone in the world and to the world, too.

This is the beginning of my ninth year of blogging.  I continue to be astonished that I am able to do it regularly and successfully.  My regular guest tasters have commented that my historical cooking "never disappoints", to which I respond with "Whew!"  because I know that I don't know how the recipe will turn out but I try it out on them anyway.  (But usually I have a back-up plan just in case the meal is a flop.)

For the record, this is my 190th post (!!!!) and at the time of this writing I have over 80,000 page views.  I typically see about 1000 page views in a month; compare that to the 1000 page views I had in my first year of blogging.  Again, astonishing!

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I was wandering through my local farmers market recently, enjoying my first arepas (the sauce was particularly amazing) and wondering which vegetables should come home with me, when a table full of beets caught my attention.  They were a good size -- not too big -- and they had their greens still attached, unlike what I find at the grocery store.  There were red beets and golden beets.  The price was right, too.

Once I had them home, I perused my cookbooks for ideas.  What was really appealing was Lumbardy Tartes, from Dining with William Shakespeare, by Madge Lorwin.

ISBN 0-689-10731-5

I've tried two other recipes from this book:  My Salmon is Soused and How to Pickle Mushrooms.

Today's recipe is on page 238, and is titled

"To Make Lumbardy Tartes"

Take Beets, chop them small, and put to them grated bread and cheese, and mingle them wel in the chopping, take a few Corrans, and a dish of sweet Butter, & melt it then stir al these in the Butter, together with three yolks of Eggs, Synamon, ginger, and sugar, and make your Tart as large as you will, and fill it with the stuff, bake it and serve it in.

John Partidge, The good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin

Ms. Lorwin provides the original recipe and its source and then gives us her "working version", i.e. her redaction.  That is the one I decided to try.

The Working Version

1 pound fresh young beets
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon grated bread crumbs
3/4 cup grated mild Cheddar cheese
1/4 currants, parboiled
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ginger
3 egg yolks
4 tablespoons butter, melted.

The pastry
2 cups sifted unbleached flour
1 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup cold butter
1/2 cup cold water
1 egg, separated

I used all of the red and most of the golden beets.

Actually used 1 1/2 sticks of butter.  And water, of course!

Peel the beets -- this is best done with a potato peeler -- and grate them into a mixing bowl.  Add the sugar and stir until it melts.  Mix in the bread crumbs, grated cheese, currants, spices, and egg yolks.  Then stir in the melted butter.  Cover and set aside while you are making the pastry.  The instructions for making the pastry are on page 31.*

Divide the dough into two parts, the part for the bottom crust a bit larger than the piece for the top crust.  On a floured work surface, roll out the piece for the bottom crust to fit an eight-inch pie dish and fit it into the dish.  Then roll out the piece for the top crust.

Spread the filling evenly in the dish and cover it with the top crust.  Seal the edges with the tines of a wet fork and trim off the surplus pastry.  Punch fork holes in the crust and brush it with egg white.  Bake at 450 degrees for twenty minutes, then lower the heat to 350 degrees and bake twenty-five minutes longer.  Serve slightly warm.

*Pastry instructions from page 31:  To make the pastry, sift the flour and salt together into a large mixing bowl.  Add 1/2 cup of the butter and crumble it into the flour until it is like fine meal.  Dice the rest of the butter into 1/4-inch cubes and stir them into the flour mixture.

Add [the cold water] to the egg yolk ..., and stir until well blended.  Pour the mixture over the flour-butter mix and stir quickly until a ball of dough can be formed with the hands -- if more liquid is needed, add additional [water], one tablespoonful at a time.  

My Notes

Preheat the oven before you start!  I forgot that and had to wait after the pie was made before it could bake.

I decided to make the crust first so it could rest before I rolled it out, which I have found to be a good idea any time I make a pie crust.

I could have used my food processor to mix the butter with the flour-salt mixture but decided to mix it all by hand.  I thought the instructions to mix in some of the butter and then the rest was interesting.  I didn't just stir in the small cubes but mixed them in more thoroughly, just not as much as the 1/2 cup.

Once the water/egg yolk mixture was poured over the flour mixture, I stirred it with a wooden spoon.  The whole thing came together quickly and I didn't need my hands to form the ball.  The dough then was wrapped in plastic and placed in the refrigerator until I was ready to roll it out.

Freshly mixed.  Almost untouched by human hands.

Then I turned my attention to the beets.  After removing the tops, I weighed out 1 pound, which used all of the red beets and most of the golden beets.  The food processor made short work of grating them and, thankfully, kept the juice inside the container instead of on my clothes.

I think the red and gold are pretty!

Ms. Lorwin called for 3/4 cup of mild Cheddar cheese; I decided to use extra sharp Cheddar cheese and put in a full 1 cup.

As for parboiling the currants, I decided that what really needed to happen was to get them softened.  The currants went into a bowl, had boiling water poured over them, and then they sat for 2 minutes, after which I drained them.

When the filling was mixed, I prepared to roll the dough for the crust.

But once mixed, everything was beet red.

At first I rolled the dough on a floured countertop.  But it was pretty moist and wanted to stick to the counter despite the flour dusting, so after I did the bottom crust, I changed to using the silicone rolling mat, which made it easier to move the crust.



I used a 9 inch pie pan so the beet mixture did not fill the pan.



Instead of pricking the top crust with a fork, I used some small cutters and cut out a design.

The challenge was getting the design centered on the tart.

I really liked the advice to seal the edges with the fork.  Then I brushed the top with egg white beaten with a little water.



I watched the baking times carefully as my oven tends to cook things faster than what I expect.  Sure enough, I started worrying that the top would over-bake after 15 minutes at 450 degrees F.  It was getting brown and threatening to burn.  So I pulled the pie out for the last 3 minutes, let the oven cool to below 350 degrees F, then put the pie back in the oven while it heated up to 350.  Even then, I only let it cook another 20 minutes.

The crust was just a tad overcooked.

The Verdict

I served it as a main course, with a tossed green salad as a side dish.  The tart was pretty to see and smelled good!  The crust looked puffy, which was a good sign.

I also liked that the filling was firm enough to stay in the crust when a piece was cut -- no sliding filling at all.

Pretty!

The crust was wonderful, despite being a little overbaked.  Crispy and flaky yet with enough structure to keep its shape when served.  Buttery in flavor, too.  It didn't stick to the pan, and it was flexible, easy to roll out, and very forgiving as I tried to center it on the pan.  I think it is one of the best pie crusts I have ever made.

The filling had a dominant flavor of beets, and was just a bit sweet to enhance the savory aspect of it.  The currants added a nice chewy, sweet blast.  The spices were really subtle, and I think I would add more if I made this again.  I wanted to taste them and it was hard to tell they were there.  The butter in the filling was there but I think I would put in less just because I kept getting a buttery film on my lips when I ate it that I didn't like.

I couldn't taste the cheese at all, which makes me want to put in more.  I had room in the 9-inch pan to put in more beets and more cheese, so I think that would be a good idea.

In total, it was so good!  Flavorful, tasty, filling.  We had two pieces each as the main course.

It almost felt sinful having "pie" for dinner, especially because it was so pretty and looked like it could be a fruit-filled dessert pie.

One guest taster remarked that she liked how the texture of the shredded beets was there in the filling.  She found that very appealing and I agreed with her.

I had the leftovers reheated for lunch and was pleased to see how well the crust held up in the refrigerator and then heated in the microwave oven.  No soggy crust at all.

Success!

Since I had extra room in the pan, if I make this again I would use more beets, more cheese, and more spices. I want a crust that is stuffed full.

I thought Ms. Lorwin's direction to use 1 teaspoon grated bread crumbs was silly at first.  One teaspoon?  It seemed like it would not be enough.  But she was right:  the filling was firm enough and didn't need to have more crumbs to hold it together.  Also, the filling was not juicy, so no extra crumbs were needed to help that.  Forgive me for doubting, Ms. Lorwin!

HEADS UP!  I redid the recipe the way I wanted to try.  Tune in tomorrow for the sequel!

Cold Spiced Chicken - A Relish

The cover of this book, Seven Centuries of English Cooking by Maxime de la Falaise is charming.

ISBN 0-8021-3296-0

Spend time looking at all the designs in the lady's hair and gown. They simply and creatively represent "English food from medieval times to the present."

Ms. de la Falaise's reasons for writing the book are straightforward:

First, I should like to give Anglo-Saxon people a feeling for the flavours, spices and typical dishes of the progressing centuries, enable them to recognize in themselves not only the family nose or red hair, the voice or mannerism, but their inherited attraction towards saffron, mace, nutmeg, cinnamon, anchovies, mushrooms, sharp sauces, citrus tastes, puddings cream, butter, jam, pickles, dripping, bread and butter and boiled eggs that is also part of their nature and history.  Second, the book should enable readers, in a romantic way, to feel history through one of the senses:  taste. Once you have it in your power to cook the rudiments of a medieval royal banquet, an Elizabethan nursery breakfast, an eighteenth-century tavern lunch, or a savoury ice, you begin to see the people, their clothes, their furniture; you can almost hear their conversations as you eat their food. Pastures, crops, herds, great halls and palaces, boats bearing luxuries on rivers and seas, town houses and tea dances -- all become as clear as a film.

I have to say I agree with her.  The more I cook recipes from different eras and places, the more I feel the presence of their histories and the better appreciation I have for the people and their cultures.  It is what gives me so much pleasure in exploring my cookbook collection and maintaining this blog.

Ms. de la Falaise did her homework.  She spent time in both New York and England researching manuscripts and studying rare books.  She tries the recipes and redacts them for the modern kitchen. Her chapter, "From the Fourteenth to the Sixteenth Century", reviews the history of foodstuffs in England -- how and when they arrive, including the first sweet potato from the New World in 1564.  "These potatoes be the most delicate rootes that may be eaten, and doe farre exceed our passeneps or carets.  Their pines be of the bignes of two fists . .  and the inside eateth like an apple, but it is more delicious than any sweet apple sugared."  (Quoted from Richard Hakluyt in his Principall Navigations ... of the English Nation.)

I have read elsewhere that the sweet potatoes were rare and very expensive for about 100 years and were considered potent aphrodisiacs.

Once the time period had been covered, the chapter offers up recipes, often with the original recipe and its source cited as well.  My only criticism of her work is that sometimes she uses non-period foodstuffs in her redactions.  One example is on page 25 where for the "Soup in Three Colors" she uses a potato soup as the base.  I can understand her reasoning but I had hoped she would have found a recipe for a white soup and used that instead.

But never mind that.  I wanted to make her recipe on page 35, called

Cold Spiced Chicken
or Vyaund de Ciprysse Ryalle

This dish was served at the coronation feast of Henry IV at Westminster on 13 October 1399.  It is a delicious relish, rather like a chutney, and should be eaten as a garnish for roast chicken rather then as a dish by itself.

She cites the original source as Two Fifteenth-century Cookery Books, which I found as a free PDF download here:  edited by Thomas Austin and published in 1888.  (You can find more books here:  Medieval Cookery - Online Cookbooks/England.)

Serves 4
1/2 pint (1 cup) white wine
4 oz (1/2 cup) sugar
6 oz (1/2 cup) honey
1 tsp ground cloves
1 oz (1/4 cup) raisins
1 tsp grated lemon peel
3 egg yolks
1 1/4 lb (2 1/2 cups) cooked chicken, finely chopped
2 egg whites (optional)


Make a syrup of the wine and sugar and boil for 10 minutes, until thickened.  Reserve 4 tablespoons (1/4 cup).  Add the honey, cloves, raisins and lemon peel, then bring to the boil and simmer for 2 minutes.  Beat the egg yolks in a bowl and stir in the syrup.  Pour back into the saucepan and cook, stirring over low heat, without boiling, until thickened.  Stir in the chicken.  Pour into a 3-pint dish and pour the reserved syrup over the top.  Chill thoroughly. 

If you prefer a fluffier texture, fold in 2 whipped egg whites at the end, before pouring into the dish.

My Notes

I used a dry Chardonnay.

The chicken was boneless, skinless thighs that had been baked without any spices or herbs.  I used the food processor to get them "finely chopped" and was not entirely pleased with the resulting mealy texture of the meat.  I hoped the little round balls of chicken weren't going to be too weird in the final product.

Strange looking.

While the wine and sugar syrup was boiling, I measured out the honey and raisins, shredded the lemon peel (it took two of the small Meyers to get 1 teaspoon), and separated the eggs.  I decided that I did not want to fold in the egg whites to make it fluffier.

The wine syrup reduced quite a bit but there was plenty left after I reserved the 1/4 cup.  It was definitely thicker and syrupy.  Once the egg yolks were mixed in I could see the liquid was getting thicker but wasn't sure where to stop it.  How thick should it get?  I took it off the heat when it looked creamy.

Well, in the picture it doesn't look creamy.

There seemed to be a lot of sauce for the meat but not so much that I worried.  The only concern I had was that the chicken mixture was soft (unchilled) so when I poured the reserved syrup over it, some of it sank into the mixture.  I had thought it would be stiffer and the syrup would spread out.

Honest, it is NOT oatmeal.

I tasted some of the syrup that remained in the sauce pan and it was good!

The dish went into the refrigerator to chill.

The Verdict

We tasted it a two days later (it has been a busy time!).  I served it spread on plain crackers.

The first bite made me think of chutney, with the spicy zing of the cloves and the tartness of the wine and the sweetness of the honey and sugar.  The chicken flavor was really just an afterthought.  After a few bites I mostly tasted the cloves only.  I love cloves but I wanted more than just a sugared cloves flavor.

One guest taster thought the clove taste was too strong; the second guest taster thought it was just right.  I found that I liked the flavors best if there was a raisin in the mouthful and if the relish was spread thinly on the cracker.  "Thinly" is a relative term because I was really spreading it on thick at first. Just don't put so much on as to overwhelm your taste buds.

This is thinly in my book

We all liked it better when, instead of crackers, we spread the relish on a chunk of sharp cheddar cheese.  This conjured up ideas of how else to serve the relish:  yes, as a side condiment to roast chicken as given to Henry IV; as a side condiment to a side dish of sauteed apples and onions; or even as a topper to a cheddar cheese-and-apple tart.

Another guest taster wanted to try the relish with some black pepper sprinkled on top.  That was particularly good, especially to my taste buds.  I want to do that every time I eat it.

I noticed that the entire dish seemed too wet, even after being chilled for two days.  I think the syrup-to-chicken ratio was off.

If I were to make it again I would reduce the cloves amount a little (maybe 1/2 to 3/4 teaspoon) and I would cook the syrup down more or increase the amount of chicken used so that the resulting relish was firmer before chilling.  Perhaps then I could form it into a ball or loaf shape and pour the reserved syrup over the top.  I would also be tempted to chop the chicken up by hand to get more of a flake look to the meat, instead of the little balls.

But I would call this a success.  I would love to serve it to others and I think they would enjoy it.

You can read about Maxime de la Falaise's life and career in an amusing Wikipedia article here.  She was a model, an actress, a food writer, and a designer who was considered to be very chic.  You can also see her obituary, which is interesting on its own.

My Salmon is Soused...

I had fresh salmon fillets and wanted something different to do with them.  Many of my historical recipes don't deal with salmon (it was protected and regulated and thus was expensive during the Elizabethan era) but I did find something intriguing in my copy of Dining with William Shakespeare, by Madge Lorwin.

ISBN 0-689-10731-5

On page 99, in the chapter labeled "A Feast for Beatrice and Benedick", there is a recipe titled

To Marrinate Salmon to be Eaten Hot or Cold.

The original recipe, taken from Robert May's The Accomplisht Cook, is:

Take a Salmon, cut it into joles and rands, and fry them in good sweet sallet oyl or clarified butter, then set them by in a charger, and have some white or claret-wine, and wine-vinegar as much as will cover it, and put the wine and vinegar into a pipkin with all manner of sweet herbs bound up in a bundle, as rosemary, tyme, sweet marjoram, parsley, winter savory, bay-leaves, sorrel, and sage, as much of one as the other, large mace, slic't ginger, gross pepper, slic't nutmeg, whole cloves, and salt; being well boild together, pour it on the fish, spices and all, being cold, then lay on slic't lemons and lemon-peel, and cover it up close; so keep it for present spending, and serve it hot or cold with the same liquor it is soust in, with the spices, herbs, and lemons on it.

You can view Robert May's book through Project Gutenberg here:  The Accomplisht Cook.  It was published in 1685 and was "Approved by the fifty five Years Experience and Industry of ROBERT MAY; in his Attendance on several Persons of great Honour."

Ms. Lorwin's adapted version is:

One 1 1/2-pound piece of thick salmon fillet
4 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup minced parsley
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon peppercorns
4 cloves
1 bay leaf
1/2 nutmeg, broken up
1 large piece of whole mace
1/4 teaspoon thyme
1/4 teaspoon rosemary
1/4 teaspoon marjoram
1/4 teaspoon savory
1/4 teaspoon sage
6 tablespoons wine vinegar
1 1/4 cups claret
1 lemon, sliced thin and seeded

I love all the spices!

Rinse the salmon fillet under cold running water and pat it dry with paper towels or a clean white cloth.  Cut into approximately 2 1/2-inch squares.  Melt the butter in a skillet large enough to hold all the fish in a single layer.  Arrange the fish pieces in the skillet and saute' over low heat only until the flesh is no longer translucent, turning once -- about four minutes on each side.  Remove the skillet from the heat and set aside, covered, until the sousing liquid is ready.

Beginning to cook

Turned once

Add the herbs, spices, and wine vinegar to the claret and bring the mixture to a boil.  Lower the heat to simmer and cook ten minutes.

Looks a bit muddy but smells good

Layer the pieces of salmon in a small, deep bowl -- a 1 1/2-quart stainless steel or glass bowl is a good size.  Pour the hot marinade, including the seasonings, over the salmon.  Arrange the lemon slices over the top, pushing a few down into the liquid at the sides of the bowl.  Cover and set aside until the marinade has cooled.  

I used one lemon, not two

Refrigerate until needed.  Serve the salmon cold with some of the marinade poured over it.

This dish keeps well for a week to ten days; after that the fish begins to toughen.  But if you plan to keep it that long, peel the lemon before slicing it, since the peel tends to give the fish a slightly bitter taste if left more than a day or two in the marinade.

We preferred the salmon cold, but if you wish to serve it warm, reheat it in the marinade in the top of a double boiler.

My Notes

I was out of parsley and fresh ginger (and dried ginger) so I skipped the parsley and used dried, ground galingale in place of the ginger.  About 1/4 teaspoon of the galingale.  Also I used cubebs instead of peppercorns, just because I could.

My sage and mace were ground.  The nutmeg was broken up by pounding it a bit in the mortar.  Oh my, it smelled good.

The rosemary and thyme were fresh from the garden.  I used about a teaspoon of each.

I used white wine vinegar and chardonnay for the wine.  "Claret" used to mean clear wine and I felt that white wine was the best choice here.  And yes, my lemon was a Meyer lemon! The tree still has some fruit on it.

The salmon cooked for almost exactly four minutes on a side but wasn't "no longer translucent".  I didn't worry about it because I set the skillet aside as Ms. Lorwin instructed and the residual heat finished cooking the fish.

I was concerned about the spices being poured on the salmon.  This seemed appropriate to get them to infuse their flavors in the meat but I really didn't want to take a bite of it and crunch into a whole cubeb or chunk of nutmeg.  My hope was that I could somehow rinse off the big bits of herbs and spices before serving.

It took about an hour before I felt the marinade had cooled enough to refrigerate.  Then the whole dish cooled for about four hours before eating.

The Verdict

I served the salmon cold alongside a tossed salad with a variety of vegetables.  It was easy to brush off the big pieces of spices so that turned out to be not a worry at all.  I poured a little of the marinade on each piece but put it through a fine mesh sieve first, to remove the chunks.

This was really good.  I am not super fond of fish but like it well enough.  This was cooked thoroughly, did not smell "fishy", and the marinade have enough acid bite (just a little) to make the fish and the spices blend together well. The flesh was firm and moist.

The spices were not overwhelming nor were they dominated by any particular flavor.  Just a balanced blend with occasional little dashes of flavor on your tongue.

My two guest tasters both liked it, enough to ask for seconds.  We all agreed that serving it cold seemed the better choice to let the flavor of the marinade shine through.

Success!  Easy!  Give it a try!

We say "Salad" and They said "Sallat"

It is the beginning of June so summer is near and spring has had a chance to settle in and make the yard beautiful with greenery and flowers.  My work has finally slowed down so I have time to play in that yard!

I found myself restless and dissatisfied with the ideas I was getting for this blog post.  I wanted something with vegetables.  I wanted to use some of the plants in my garden.  And I wanted it to be the same but different.  I know, I know!  How do you meet all those requirements?

I spent this morning working in my herb garden, trimming and mulching and weeding.  I thought about how, during the Elizabethan period, fresh herbs were often a part of a good "sallat,", what we today call a salad.  Could I put together a fun and different Elizabethan-style sallat and enjoy it?

My feelings were mixed.  What I put into salads is usually lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, croutons, raisins or dried cranberries, and chunks of cheese.  Sometimes other items as they happen to be in my kitchen.  This is a tasty mix and I have no complaints with it.

However, fresh herbs can have strong flavors to taste buds not accustomed to them.  Tomatoes and cranberries were out as they are New World foods.  While croutons might have been used, I couldn't recall any references to them so I would leave them out.  What else could I add that would be appropriate to the period and still appealing?

I turned to one of my favorite books, The English Housewife by Gervase Markham, edited by Michael R. Best.

ISBN 0-7735-1103-2

The preface states this book "is the most comprehensive, the most practical, and the most readable of the many books of instruction written for women in the early seventeenth century."

In Chapter II he starts off describing the knowledge a wife must have of herbs:  how to grow them, the best times to harvest them, when to save the seeds, and, of course, how to cook with them.  His first receipt (recipe) is "Of sallats.  Simple sallats."

First then to speak of sallats, there be some simple, and some compounded; some only to furnish out the table, and some both for use and adornation.  ...  chives, scallions, radish roots, boiled carrots, skirrets, and turnips, with such like served up simply; also, all young lettuce, cabbage lettuce, purslane, and divers other herbs which may be served simply without anything but a little vinegar, sallat oil, and sugar;

He mentions, in his compounded sallat sections, ingredients like red sage, mint, violets, marigolds, spinach, blanched almonds, raisins, capers, olives, figs, currants, thinly sliced and peeled oranges and lemons, and pickled cucumbers.  I was pretty sure I could pull a variety of these ingredients together to make a sallat.

I collected small quantities of various herbs and flowers from my garden:  oregano, lavender, thyme, lemon verbena, rosemary, mint, violas, basil, and sage. (It is important to know that your plants are free from bug sprays and other toxins.)

They were rinsed with water and, as they drained, I assembled the "main" sallat. I used

spring mix (a blend of spinach and baby lettuces)
a shallot, peeled and sliced paper thin
a fresh cucumber, peeled and sliced
carrots, chopped and microwaved for about a minute to cook them to tender
dried currants
dried figs, thinly sliced
pickled pearl onions, chopped
pitted Kalamata olives that had been marinated in herbs and Cabernet wine, sliced
pickled capers

Lovely, isn't it?

I kept the quantities of these ingredients low (expect for the spring mix base) because I didn't want too much competition for flavors but I wanted a variety.

The herb leaves were stripped off the stems and either cut into slivers or chopped.  The lavender flowers were stripped and left whole. I put them into individual bowls so my guest taster and I could sprinkle them onto our individual sallats and judge their impact.  There were only four viola flowers so I placed them as decoration on top of the main sallat.

We scooped some of the main into our bowls then added whatever combination of herbs we wanted to try.  This was a great idea because it inspired us to have several bowlfuls each in order to sample the whole variety.  I think I had four servings.  We dressed our sallats with a balsamic vinaigrette.  We both tried eating a viola flower by itself.

The Verdict

We both concluded that the violas were pretty but didn't have much flavor.  I thought the lavender flowers were too strong and bitter to eat raw but I did start getting accustomed to their flavor.  My guest taster thought they were fine from the beginning.

A treat for the eye

We both liked all the herbs although some were strong and needed some getting used to.  My favorites were basil (no surprise there), thyme, and mint and they were the ones I kept going back to.  The sage was okay but I thought it needed to be chopped into smaller pieces.  The lemon verbena was strong and I kept thinking I didn't like it.  Eventually I liked it.

My guest taster's favorites were oregano, sage, basil, rosemary, and thyme.  He described their impact as "little bursts of flavor", which he liked very much.  He said he would love to have any of them again, including the bright flavor of the lemon verbena.

Success!  I am not doubtful any more about using fresh herbs in my sallats.  I know to keep their pieces small so to get those bursts without overwhelming the other flavors.

I served the sallat with chicken thighs baked in an Italian dressing coating and with an herb stuffing side dish.  Was this too much herb flavoring in one meal?  Not at all.  The flavors complemented each other and made for a very tasty dinner.

An Elizabethan Meat Pie for Super Pi Day

March 14 is recognized as Pi Day in the United States -- mostly by schools who want their students to think about the irrational number π.   March 14 of this year was special, a Super Pi Day, because it is the only day in the century where you can write out the date and time to get π to nine decimal places:
3.141592653...  gets written as 3/14/15 9:26:53.  Super!

So in honor of Super Pi Day, I made a super pie:  an Elizabethan deep dish chicken pie.  Not only does the size make it super but the ingredients are not what we usually expect in a chicken pie.  You cannot find any onions, carrots, potatoes, peas, or even mushrooms in it.  Also the spices are different from the typical modern chicken pie.

My source was Gervase Markham's The English Housewife, originally published in 1596.  The author wrote it for his young wife to instruct her on "the inward and outward virtues which ought to be in a complete woman..."

ISBN 0-7735-1103-2

It is a fascinating look into the culture of an Elizabethan England household because the nine chapters cover a wide variety of topics:  physic (medicine) and surgery, cooking, distillation, wines, preparing fibers for dying and spinning, making cheese and butter, making malt, using oats, and brewing and baking.

On page 100, recipe #116 tells us how "To bake a chicken pie."

To bake a chicken pie; after you have trussed your chickens, broken their legs and breast bones, and raised your crust of the best paste, you shall lay them in the coffin close together with their bodies full of butter.  Then lay upon them, and underneath them, currants, great raisins, prunes, cinnamon, sugar, whole mace, and salt: then cover all with a great store of butter, and so bake it; after, pour into it the liquor you did in your marrow bone pie, with the yolks of two or three eggs beaten amongst it, and so serve it forth.

I needed to explore the details of this recipe a little.  What is the "crust of the best paste"?

On page 96, recipe #108, "Of the pastry and baked meats", he says,

...your chickens, calves' feet, olives, potatoes, quinces, fallow deer, and such like, which are most commonly eaten hot, would be in the finest, shortest and thinnest crust; therefore your fine wheat flour which is a little baked in the oven before it be kneaded is the best for that purpose.

And in recipe #109, "Of the mixture of pastes",

...your fine wheat crust must be kneaded with as much butter as water, and the paste made reasonable lithe and gentle, into which you must put three or four eggs or more according to the quantity you blend together, for they will give it a sufficient stiffening.

My next quest was to note the "the liquor you did in your marrow bone pie," which is in recipe #115:

... and after it is baked pour into it as long as it will receive it white wine, rose-water, sugar, cinnamon, and vinegar, mixed together, ...

My Redaction

From all of this I decided a regular pie crust would do.  I decided not to use eggs in it because I was baking it in a deep dish ceramic pie pan instead of having the pie stand up on its own.  It did not need "sufficient stiffening."  I used a recipe from The Great Food Processor Cookbook, by Yvonne Young Tarr  (ISBN 394-73284-7).

Pie Pastry (page 357)

(Yield:  Enough pastry for 1 double-crust pie)

11 to 12 Tablespoons cold butter (1 1/2 sticks) and 2 tablespoons cold shortening (or, for a tart pastry that is less rich, 7 tablespoons each cold shortening and butter)
2 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour
1 1/4 Teaspoons salt
8 Tablespoons ice water

Arrange cold butter and/or shortening by tablespoons around bottom of container.  Combine flour and salt and sift together over shortening.

Turn machine quickly on and off 3 or 4 times or until the mixture resembles coarse meal.

Add as much ice water as necessary, 2 tablespoons at a time, until the dough forms a ball.  Chill for at least 15 minutes before rolling out.

I didn't take any pictures of the pastry being made since my focus was on the filling.  I used 8 tablespoons of butter (one stick) and 6 tablespoons shortening.  Both had been in the freezer.

Filling (before baking)

3 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1 cup raisins
16 ounces prunes
<currants are unavailable in the stores at this time>
1/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground mace
1 teaspoon salt
4 ounces (1 stick) butter, cold

Mix the sugar, spices, and salt together in a small bowl.  Sprinkle a generous amount on the pie crust and then put about 1/3 of the raisins and prunes on top of that.

First layer of fruits and spices is complete

Put in a layer of thighs, setting them close together.  Sprinkle more of the sugar/spice mixture on top.  Put in another layer of raisins and prunes, more of the spice mixture, another layer of the thighs.  I tried to use all the thighs but they didn't all fit despite me squishing them into place.

Sprinkle on the spice mixture, add the rest of the raisins and prunes, and then add on the rest of the spice mixture.

The pie pan is stuffed full.

Cut the butter up into thin slices and scatter them all over the top of the filling.

Mmmmm.  Butter!

Roll out the top crust, cut some holes or slits to let out the steam, and fit it to the top.

There was enough dough left over to make decorations.

I baked the pie at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 1 hour and 15 minutes, until the crust was browned and the kitchen smelled lovely.

Oh. My.

In the last few minutes of the pie baking, I made the liquor to pour into the pie.

Liquor (after baking)

1/2 cup white wine
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon rose water
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
2 egg yolks, beaten

I mixed everything but the yolks and tasted it.  It had a slightly rosy scent, with the vinegar and sugar balanced well to shift the white wine flavor to a bit more piquant.  Satisfied with the flavor, I mixed in the two egg yolks.

Once the pie was out of the oven, I carefully poured the liquor into the slits in the top crust.  I made sure to pour some in each slit.  I knew the pie had received as much as it could take when some of the liquor came out of the crust on the sides.  The hot temperature of the filling appeared to cook the egg yolk.

Some of the liquid missed the holes.

I let the pie cool for awhile before tasting it.

The Verdict

I am pretty new to redacting recipes myself.  So when I was preparing everything, I worried:  I worried that it would be too sweet.  And that the spices would be too strong.  And that the liquor would taste weak or strong.  That I added too much rose water (yes, I love the stuff but not everyone is accustomed to its floral taste).  That the chicken wouldn't be cooked all the way through.  That it would be too greasy from all the butter.

I should not have worried!

The pie was excellent.  Fruity and spicy without being sweet or dessert-like.  The chicken was cooked beautifully.  The filling was not dry and not greasy.  The rose water added a very subtle scent to the meat and fruit without being overwhelming.

The crust was one of the best I have ever made.  Not as rich as a dessert pie but still flavorful and flaky.

I had several guest tasters.  Some had it hot and some ate it cold.  The general consensus was that it was very good; several wanted the recipe and all found it intriguingly different from what we usually think of when we consider chicken pie.

Many noticed the layers and were interested at the effect they had.

I was very pleased I used boneless, skinless thighs.  I was able to press them down into the pan and fit nearly the entire three pounds.  The half cup plus a little of the liquor was just right, too.  The filling soaked up most of it right away.  The rest was absorbed after some time in the refrigerator.

I would call this a resounding success!  I would make it again, too, just as it is described here.