Carnel of Pork

I was perusing Project Gutenberg's copy of The Forme of Cury, a collection of recipes compiled around 1390AD "by the Master Cooks of King Richard II", which you can access here.

My goal was to find recipe(s) that I could successfully do at an historical cooking demonstration location.  I finally was able to get back to doing some demonstrations this year!  The site had a lovely outdoor kitchen with tables for preparation, many platters/bowls/cooking pots, a big fire pit, and a wood-fired oven.  I decided I wasn't ready to try baking as I needed to get back into the techniques needed to prep and cook over fire in front of the public.  The venue was set in Elizabethan England, so recipes prior to 1600 would work just fine.

One that caught my attention was

CARNEL [1] OF PORK. XXXII.

Take the brawnn of Swyne. parboile it and grynde it smale and alay it up with zolkes of ayren. set it ouere [2] the fyre with white Grece and lat it not seeþ to fast. do þerinne Safroun an powdour fort and messe it forth. and cast þerinne powdour douce, and serue it forth.

[1] Carnel, perhaps Charnel, from Fr. Chaire. [2] ouere. Over. So again, No. 33.

In other words, 

Take pork, parboil it, grind it small, and thicken it with egg yolks.  Cook it with lard and cook it slowly.  Add saffron and powder forte, and put it on a platter to serve.  Sprinkle with powder douce, and serve.

 My Redaction

1 pound pork tenderloin (boneless)

3 egg yolks, well beaten

1 tablespoon vegetable shortening or lard

1 teaspoon powder fines (see note below)

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1 teaspoon saffron

1/4 teaspoon salt

a sprinkling of powder douce (see note below)

Notes:  My powder fines is a spice mix containing cinnamon, cloves, ginger, grains of paradise, pepper, and saffron.  Powder forte is supposed to be a strong (forte) flavored mix, which is why I took the fines and added more pepper to it, along with salt to more suit modern palates.  

My powder douce is a spice mix containing cinnamon, allspice, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, cardamom, and star anise.  Powder douce is supposed to be a sweet (douce) mixture; what I used was a Baker's Spice Mix -- good for sweet breads.  It was mild enough to be a garnish.

The powder douce did not make it into the picture.

Grind the spices and salt together.  Set aside.

Cut the pork into chunks -- I did four 1/4-pound pieces.  Bring a saucepan of water to a boil, then put in one chunk.  This will drop the temperature to below a boil.  Set the timer for 5 minutes and watch the water.  You want at most a slow simmer for a parboil, so adjust the heat as needed.  When the time is up, remove the meat and place in a bowl to drain.  Keep parboiling the pieces like this.  The goal is to lightly cook them without making the meat tough; they don't even have to be cooked all the way through.  Just not completely raw.  

If a piece looks only slightly cooked, put it back into the hot water for a few more minutes.

Before parboiling

Parboiled:  the two pieces on the left went back in for 3 minutes each

Let the meat cool until you can easily handle it.  Cut it into small pieces or grind it (I cut it).  Mix well with the egg yolks.

Melt the fat over medium heat in a saucepan.  Add the meat and stir well.  Cook slowly over a low to medium heat (2 to 4 out of 10), stirring occasionally to mix the meat, yolks, and fat together.

Cook until the meat is no longer pink, 15 to 20 minutes.  Remove from the heat.

Mix in the spices thoroughly while the meat is still hot.

Put the mixture into a bowl or other container that functions as a mold for the final product.  Compress the mixture using a flat-bottomed cup or similar object.

Put a plate over the bowl and quickly turn the bowl and plate over to unmold the meat.

Sprinkle with powder douce lightly as a garnish.

Serve and enjoy!

My Notes

I first made this for a public demonstration.  I parboiled the meat at home in advance, then completed the preparation in front of the public.  I chose to cut instead of grinding because I didn't want to pound all the meat in a mortar.  For the demonstration I used 2 pounds of pork, 5 egg yolks, and double the amount of spices listed above.  It turned out well and I wanted to make it for this blog.

The meat is much easier to cut up into small pieces after parboiling.  Well worth the time.

I pounded and rubbed the spices together in the mortar until they looked reasonably blended.  The saffron threads did not all break up, which was fine with me.

It took some time to cut the meat up in small pieces, about 1/4 inch cubes.  Smaller pieces would work, too, or grinding/pounding them to more of a paste.  Notice the pink in the pieces below, but none of them looked completely raw.

Meat and yolks before mixing.

The idea of the yolks is to coat the meat pieces before cooking.

Ready to cook!

The slow cooking and regular stirring keeps the yolks from turning into hard-boiled egg consistency.  It acts like a sauce.

No pink.  It is done.

With the spices mixed in.

Packed into the mold.

You can see flecks of color where the spices are.  The saffron displays as orange threads.  They smelled good while I was mixing them in.

Unmolded and garnished.  Ready to serve.

The Verdict

I served it as the main course along with sliced tomatoes garnished with minced shallots, green onions, and parsley dressed with a mixture of olive oil (lemon infused), balsamic vinegar (lime infused), and a little salt.  Also toasted sourdough bread.

My guest taster and I spooned some of the carnel onto our plates.  We ate it like that or spooned onto a piece of toast.  At the public demonstration, the carnel was part of a larger potluck and was placed on the main dish table, and served as it was presented.

We both loved it.  Meaty, creamy, and the spices were zesty!  My tongue got little blasts of spice while I was eating it, not quite like having chiles but close.  If the spice level was lower, I think the carnel would have been bland and uninteresting.  

I felt the same way about it at the public demonstration -- I almost underspiced it then; I'm so glad I didn't.

The meat was very tender, which we both appreciated.  

Success!  

This is so easy to do, and I think it would be a good dish for a potluck.  

Grinding it would make it more of a paté, so it could be spread on toast or crackers.

Leche Lombard, a medieval date roll, with a Chinese-style bonus!

Leche Lombard is a medieval English recipe on page 133 in A Taste of History by Maggie Black.  I made this dish once before, years ago, and recalled how much I enjoyed it.  When I came across the recipe again, I took the opportunity to make it.

ISBN 0-7141-1788-9

The word "leche" implies that something is thickened.  In this case, a spiced date puree is thickened with egg yolks and bread crumbs, turning it into finger food, and served as an appetizer or a dessert.  It is not hard to make, especially if you have modern kitchen tools like a stick blender or a food processor.  If you want to go more "medieval", you can use a mortar and pestle.

In this case, I was taking it to a social gathering where I knew the people would be willing to try something new.  

Leche Lumbard -- Date Slices with Spiced Wine

1 3/4 pound dates, pits removed

3/4 pint medium-dry white wine

3 ounces light soft brown sugar

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

6 hard-boiled egg yolks

about 6 ounces soft brown bread crumbs **have more on hand just in case**

3 - 4 tablespoons Madeira heated with a pinch of mixed spices

My bread crumbs were not brown, but they were soft.

Break up the dates and simmer with the wine and sugar until pulpy.  Pound or put through a food processor until almost smooth.  Mix in the spices and sieve or work in the egg yolks.  In a bowl, knead in enough breadcrumbs to make the mixture as stiff as marzipan.  Form it into a 2 inch (5 cm) diameter roll, and chill until firm.  Cut into 1/4 inch slices.  Arrange in overlapping lines on a plate, and trickle a drop or two of cooled, spiced wine over each slice.

My Notes

This recipe and a different redaction of it, is also found on page 138 of Fabulous Feasts by Madeleine Pelner Cosman.  That is how I knew the original name, which is not part of A Taste of History.

Here are the pictures of cooking the dates "until pulpy."

Ready to cook.

Pulpy.

I used a stick blender to puree the dates in the pan:

Smooth enough!

Just for fun, I pounded the bread in the mortar and sieved it until it was little bits.  I also pushed the egg yolks through a sieve until it was tiny pieces.

Then I mixed everything together well.  It wasn't as stiff as I wanted or as I recalled when I made it previously, but I was out of breadcrumbs.  I had to take it as it was and hope for the best.

So I rolled into a log shape and wrapped it in waxed paper for chilling.

About 2 inches in diameter and 15 inches long.

This fit on a tray in my refrigerator.

It didn't firm up as much as I had hoped, even after 4 hours of chilling.  But I sliced it anyways and arranged it on a serving platter with the spiced wine on top.

The Verdict

They were sticky but not terribly so.  I could pick up a slice and eat it without losing much or any along the way.  I liked them -- the texture was interesting, the flavor was spices and dates and richness.  It was not too sweet, and the wine seemed to add a more "adult-like" feel to this dessert.

The people at the gathering I attended enjoyed it.  One thought it was good enough that maybe it was "healthy", which made me laugh.  No, not really, but it was fun to think so.  Most pieces were gone by the end of the evening and the host wanted me to leave some behind, which I did.

Success!  Although I would add more bread crumbs to make it thicker and not so sticky.

I also think that you could make the texture more interesting by kneading in some toasted nuts (I would use chopped almonds) before making the roll.  

And Now for the Bonus

What I took to the gathering was not all the date mixture.  I had a lot left over at home.  I decided it would be a good filling for a Chinese moon cake.  Completely non-traditional, I guessed, but I had been given a moon cake mold by YT and wanted to play with it.

Exterior view of the mold.

Interior view.

I used a recipe from Nyonya Cooking's website to make the golden syrup and the dough.  Click here to see it.  I already owned a bottle of lye water.  Golden syrup is just a simple syrup of water and sugar with a strong lemon flavor, and it was easy to make.

Just add water.

Simmered for 35 minutes to turn golden.

It tasted lovely!  I think I would make this just to have on hand for an ice cream topping or brushing on a cake or to put in my tea.  

To make the dough, which the site calls "foolproof", requires cake flour, for which I substituted 200 g all-purpose flour mixed well with 40 g cornstarch.  Also, the dough recipe author has never met this fool, as I managed to mis-measure the lye water, putting in too much.  I completed the recipe anyway.

Include the golden syrup!

I found that the mold could hold 25 g of filling with 25 g of dough comfortably.  It took a little practice to get it to work well in the mold, but it wasn't hard.  Weighing everything on a scale was a good idea.

This was too big for the mold.  Reduce by half.

Out of the mold, ready to bake.

First you bake them for 10 minutes, let them cool for 10 minutes, brush them with the egg wash, then bake them again for 10 minutes or until golden brown all over.  

Done!

Honestly, the filling was better distributed than this in many of them.

The Verdict

Nyonya's site says to let the cakes sit in a closed container for about 3 days for the oil in the filling to soften the crust.  Another website agrees but encourages tasting it while the crust is still crispy.  I did both.  

First, it was really obvious that I had put in too much lye water.  I could taste it and it was not a pleasant addition.  Even after the cakes had matured for a few days, the lye flavor was there.  However, I could get past that in order to judge the final result.  

I thought the leche Lombard filling was a very good idea.  It achieved similar results to the professionally-made moon cakes I have previously tried.  Tasty, not too sweet, and balanced with the crust.  My observation is that Asian desserts are very understated, and this was that.  But it was still flavorful enough to be interesting.  

Success again!  Just be careful in measuring the lye water...

An Update on the Medieval Lebkuchen

Previously I tried a recipe for Lebkuchen (click here to see the post) that suggested the dough and the cookies get better with time.

So I baked a batch and put them away in a dark cupboard.  I also put away two large containers of dough.

It has been three months, so time to check in on them.  How are they doing?

The cookies looked the same as when they were put away:

Three months old

The dough looked the same, too!

No mold on the surface.

My guest taster and I tried the cookies.  We could not detect anything different from what we had tried before.  Spicy, a little chewy.  (Still almost too spicy for me.)

So I took some of the dough from the top and shaped it into a short log.

I felt that the dough was drier or less tacky than it had been previously.  I could shape it easily with my hands without getting all covered in dough.  

Then, with a greased knife, I cut the log into approximately 1/4 inch-thick slices and prepared to bake them.  Forgive me; I was not trying for beautiful cookies at all, and it shows.

Don't judge!

I baked them at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 10 minutes.  That is when they looked like they were done.

My guest taster and I both agreed that these cookies were fluffier (less dense) than the previous batch.  We also felt that the spices were less intense, which I appreciated very much.  I liked them!

So we enjoyed a few then put the rest into the container with the first batch, marking them separately so I can track how each batch does over time.  My calendar is marked to check in on them in another 3 months.

So far, so good!

Lebkuchen or German Honey Cake, the 1553 edition

After having attempted and, finally, succeeded in making German Honey Cakes via Laura Ingalls Wilder (click on these posts to view the saga: attempt #1, attempts #2 and #3, and success at last), I decided to try a 1553 recipe for Nurnberger Lebkuchen as found in the Sabina Welserin cookbook, Das Kochbuch der Sabina Welserin, as translated by David Friedman.  Click here to see the translation.

What makes lebkuchen special is that the baked cookies are said to last a long time without spoiling, staying moist and flavorful.  Also, the dough does not have fat or eggs, so it can be stored unbaked for months and even years, and it supposed to develop a better flavor with time.  It was an item of wealth in medieval times, where bakers would invest money in jars and ingredients, and mature dough was given in dowries.

My goal was to make the dough with the intent to let it rest and mature for many months.  I'm not sure how long, and I might do some test baking along the way to assess any changes.  Here is the part of the recipe I was using:

163 To make Nürnberger Lebkuchen

Take one quart of honey, put it into a large pan, skim it well and let it boil a good while.  Put one and a half pounds of sugar into it and stir it continually with a wooden spatula and let it cook for a while, as long as one cooks an egg, pour it hot into a quarter pound of flour, stir it around slowly and put the described spices in the dough, stir it around slowly and not too long; take on and a half ounces of cinnamon sticks, one and a half ounces of nutmeg, three fourths of an ounce of cloves, three ounces of ginger, a pinch of mace, and chap or grind each one separately so that they are not too small, the cinnamon sticks, especially, should be coarsely ground.  And when you have put the spices in the dough, then let the dough set for as long as one needs to hard boil eggs.

I gathered my ingredients and had at it.

My Redaction

1 quart honey (about 3 pounds)

1 1/2 pounds sugar

1/4 pound flour

2 ounces ground cinnamon (see my notes, below)

1 1/2 ounces ground nutmeg

3/4 ounce ground cloves

2 1/2 ounces ground ginger (see my notes, below)

a pinch of mace

And the mace.

My Notes

It did not go well.

First, and I take responsibility for this decision, I boiled the honey and the honey-sugar mixture too long.  I made a hard-crack candy that in no way resembled a dough.  Afterwards, I read more about lebkuchen and now believe the honey should be heated to just boiling for two reasons:  to dissolve the sugar and to make it easier to mix in the flour.  But no cooking beyond that seems necessary.

Despite all my planning and shopping, I discovered I only had 2 1/2 ounces of ginger, so I used that and put in another 1/2 ounce of ground cinnamon in its place.  The entire amount of spices was a lot!  It turns out it was too much.  More on that below.

Almost 7 ounces of spices by weight

I was skeptical about the amount of flour.  It seemed like it was not enough to actually make a dough.  I was right:  what I ended up with was a vat of goo, not dough.  It was still goo even after mixing in the spices.

Mixing in the flour.

Mixing in the spices.

I put the goo into a jar to let it cool, then thought about how I would address the problem.

Note the total amount that was made.

Yes, I ended up with a solid mass in the glass jar (why did I put it in the jar???).  Clearly this was not the intended result.  

So I put the jar into a pan filled with hot water and put some more water on top of the solid mass in the jar.  After letting it heat for a while, the mass softened enough that I was able to pour it out of the jar and into a saucepan.  

A low heat allowed the mass to dissolve into the water, then I brought it to a boil and cooked it until it was nearly at the thread stage, about 220 degrees Fahrenheit.  It seemed to resist getting hotter, and I didn't want to scorch it.

Then I mixed in more flour.  I lost track of how much flour it was -- I just kept adding flour and mixing until the mass started clinging to itself more and acting like a dough.

This made a very dark dough, and I took two small balls of it and baked it on a greased pan in the toaster oven at 350 degrees for 10 minutes. 

The cookies smelled good and were baked just right.  However, they tasted awful:  all I got was a too-strong spice flavor that was decidedly unpleasant.  

I didn't want to throw it away and declare a failure.  It seemed that I just needed to dilute the spices to get a better cookie.

So I added about three more pounds of honey and one cup of sugar, heated to just boiling, and mixed in well.  Then I added more flour, mixing in a cup at a time until I couldn't stir it by hand any more.  At that point I put big scoops of the almost-dough onto the counter and mixed in more flour by hand (gently kneading) until I had a soft, almost sticky dough.

Huge!  I guess it weighed about 10 pounds.

I baked two more cookies.  They were lighter in color than the awful ones, and their taste was much better.  The spices were still strong but not repellant.  The cookies were moist and lightly browned on the edges.  I decided that was enough.

What a color difference.

It was a huge amount of dough.  I filled two jars with it, then baked the rest:  I rolled the dough to about 1/4 inch thick, used a cutter to get the cookies, then baked them in the toaster oven at 350 degrees for 7 minutes, which was right because they were thinner than the hand-formed balls I practiced with.  Notice that I did not follow the given directions (see the Friedman webpage) for baking them.  Maybe I will at another time.

Rolling and cutting

Baked.

Dough for storing.

The Verdict

The cookies were good.  Not mouth-wateringly spectacular, but good.  I think they would be improved with the chocolate frosting (see the Wilder post attempt #1) or a simple white frosting decoration.  They also seem to ask to be eaten with coffee or tea, or dunked in milk.  They were moist, not crisp, and I might try baking them longer to see if I like crisp.

I took four cookies and baked them at 350 degrees for 8 minutes.  This made them hard (not really crunchy or crisp) and not comfortable to eat.  Then I brushed them with rose water and let them dry.  This improved the flavor but were still to hard to eat comfortably.

I also took two baked cookies and brushed them on both sides with rose water, then let them dry.  My guest taster and I both agreed that this new flavor improved the cookie eating experienced.  I recommend it!

The dough jars were covered with a lid and put into a cool, dark cupboard, along with a box of the cookies.  Everything had the date written on them, and I put notes on my calendar to check on them.

When I check in on them, I will report back.

I declare this a success.  It took a lot of effort and perseverance to achieve it, but I believe I did.  Part of the effort was all the clean up:  every pan and utensil had sticky goo on it, as did the counters and stovetop.  Fortunately, it was all sugar-based goo, which cleans up completely with hot water and patience. 

Now I will apply more patience while the dough and the cookies mature.

Whew!

Tart de ffruyte - A Tart of Fruit (with salmon)

I was looking for interesting recipes that used figs, and this time I found one that wasn't a dessert or other sugary preparation.   It is from the book Take a Thousand Eggs or More, a Collection of 15th Century Recipes by Cindy Renfrow.  In particular, this is Volume Two.

ISBN 0-9628598-2-6

Ms. Renfrow gives us the original recipes from a variety of medieval English manuscripts and also her translations.  Some recipes she adapted for the modern kitchen.  The recipe I chose is on page 58, under the section labeled "FISH -- salmon".  

Tart of fruit

Take figs, and seethe them in wine, and grind them small, And take them up into a vessel; And take powdered pepper, Cinnamon, Cloves, Maces, powdered ginger, pine nuts, great raisins of Corinth, saffron, and salt, and cast thereto; and then make fair low coffins, and put this stuff therein, And plant pine nuts above; and cut dates and fresh salmon in fair pieces, or else fresh eels, and parboil them in a little wine, and put them thereon; And cover the coffins fair with the same paste, and glaze the coffin without with saffron & almond milk; and set them in the oven and let bake.

My Redaction

1 lb. fresh figs, stems removed, about 20.  (Or less if dried, see notes below.)

1/2 cup red wine

A small handful of almonds, about 1/2 ounce by weight; chopped, ground, or pounded into small pieces

4 or 5 threads of saffron

About 1/2 cup boiling water

enough pie crust dough to make a double crust

1/4 tsp. ground pepper

1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/16 tsp. ground cloves

1/8 tsp. ground mace

1/8 tsp. ground ginger

1/2 cup pine nuts, divided in half

 1/2 cup currants

another 6 or so threads of saffron, crushed between your fingers

1/8 tsp. salt

8 ounces fresh salmon, cut into bite-sized pieces

6 ounces dates, pitted and sliced

Everything except the dough, almond milk, and fig-wine filling.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Chop the figs.  Put them in a small saucepan with the wine.  Bring to a boil then reduce the heat and then cover and simmer until they are tender, about 5 to 7 minutes.  Allow to cool while you are making the rest of the recipe.

Then make the almond milk by mixing the ground almonds and threads of saffron with boiling water and allowing it to steep until cool.  Strain the resulting almond milk from the mix by pouring it all through several layers of cheesecloth, a fine sieve, or a cloth bag.  Set the almond milk aside for the end of the recipe.

Line a pie pan with the lower crust, leaving some extra dough at the edges to help seal the second crust.

Mix the spices, 1/4 cup pine nuts, currants, broken saffron, and salt in a bowl, then add the cooled figs and wine.  Mix well and put into the pie crust.

Sprinkle the surface with the rest of the pine nuts, add a layer of the chopped dates, and then the salmon pieces.

Cover with the second crust.  Cut some vent holes.  Brush the top of the crust with the almond milk.

Bake at 425 degrees F for 15 minutes, then lower the temperature to 350 degrees F and bake another 30 to 40 minutes, until the crust is golden brown.

Let cool a little before cutting and serving.

My Notes

I suspect the recipe was designed to use dried figs.  Most recipes seemed to call for them dried, and I can understand why -- the fresh fig season is short and drying figs makes them last through the year.

But I don't care.  I'm using fresh because I have them!  Dried figs simmered in wine will rehydrate and be easier to eat.  I think I would use 15 to 20 dried figs, chopped, and simmer them longer.

Figs and wine.  Could be the whole meal right there!

Before cooking

After cooking

Next, make the almond milk.  You need so little that it is easier to make it than to buy it, and you know you are getting something without additives.  I keep the leftover ground almonds and mix in a little cinnamon and honey for a small snack.

Almonds before pounding.  You just need a few!

Pounded.  Making the pieces smaller is fine.

With boiling water and saffron.  Ready to steep.

Strained milk.  The yellow is from the saffron.

While this is steeping, mix up the spices, pine nuts, and currants.  Add them to the cooling fig and wine mixture.

Spices, pine nuts, currants

The entire bottom layer of filling

The fig, wine, and spices filling needs to be cool enough not to melt the fat in the lower crust.  I put mine in the freezer to chill it faster.

Here is how I sliced the dates and chunked the salmon:

The quantity of the fig and spice filling seemed just right for the cast iron skillet I was using as a pie pan.  The other layers were spread evenly across the top.

Bottom layer

Pine nut layer

Date layer

Salmon layer

Top crust with glaze

After my tart had baked for 20 minutes at the 350 degree F temperature, I thought the edge of the crust was at risk of burning, so I put a foil cover on it.  Then it baked for another 20 minutes.

The Verdict

This is the tart right out of the oven.

The bit of salmon I could see through the vent slits looked cooked.  I wasn't worried that it didn't cook enough, but that it was overcooked and dry.  I let the tart cool until it was still warm but not putting my mouth at risk of being burnt.

My guest taster wanted me to write that the crust was excellent.  I mostly agreed - I thought it was a little too crumbly - but it was flaky and tender and flavorful.

You can see that the layers were distinct enough:  fig layer, then the nut-date-salmon layer above that.  

The salmon was cooked thoroughly but not dry (whew!).  The rest of the filling was moist and cooked.

The flavors were interesting in a very good way.  First, recognize it is a fruit tart with salmon, not a salmon tart with fruit.  My guest taster wished there was much more salmon in it.  I can understand that sentiment.  

What we got was the lovely mixture of fruits that was lightly spiced.  The fig seeds added crunch and the pine nuts added chewy.  Fruit was the dominant flavoring.  The salmon was a fascinating diversion from what could have been a dessert dish -- you would bite into the crust and fruit and suddenly taste the meaty flavor of the salmon.  It reminded you it was a main dish, and that surprise was pleasant.  It also helped that the fruit was not too sweet.  

I declare it a success.  I loved the fruit-and-meat combination, and the subtle spicing.  I loved that it was only lightly sweet and that I got that savory salmon as part of most bites.

If I were to grant my guest taster's wish to make it a salmon tart with fruit, I think I would put half of the fig mixture in the crust, then top it with a layer of salmon, using 12 to 16 ounces to pack the layer densely.  Then I would spread the rest of the fig layer on top and use fewer dates on top of that.  I believe the fig mixture would keep the salmon moist.  Maybe some day!