Early Modern Cookery Books

On the second day of Christmas: a compilation of medieval and early modern cooking references I've found online. This is more of a gift to myself, in that the eclectic spelling makes it difficult to search for some of these by name, even when I know which book I'd like to use.

The Forme of Cury (c.1390) 

Two Fifteenth Century Cookbooks: Harleian MS 279 & 4016 (c. 1430-40 & c.1450)

Wynkyn de Worde's The Book of Kervynge/ The Book of Carving (1508) 

Le Grant Cuysinier de Toute Cuysine (1550, French)

The Good Husvvifes Jevvell/ The Good Huswifes Jewell (1582)

A Book of Cookrye (1584/1591)

Edward Allde's The Good Hous-wiues Treasurie/ The Good Housewife's Treasury (1588)

A Good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin (1593)

A Boke of Cookerie and the Order of Meates to Bee Serued to the Table (1629)

Gervaise Markham's English Housewife (1631)

Hannah Wooley's The Cooks Guide (1664)

The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie Kt. Opened (1669) Transcription.

The Accomplish'd Lady's Delight (1677)

 

W. Carew Hazlitt's Old Cookery Books and Ancient Cuisine (1902) lists additional early cookbook titles, some of which I have not yet found available online.

14th/15th Century Rosaries

Mostly, I made these because I wanted to do something with the wounds of Christ gauds that Billy & Charlie make. Nevermind that my main early modern impression is Elizabethan, a time and place in which owning rosaries was illegal and had been for two decades.

Anyway.

Related to that above factoid, I have so far found exactly three intact medieval or early modern rosaries in my usual British museum collections. The Museum of London has a very simple version, made as a small loop of wooden beads. This is by far the closest to the usual pictorial depictions (a very small string or loop of beads, usually held in a figure's hand). At the opposite end of the spectrum, the Victoria & Albert has a very elaborate gold rosary from the 16th century. And also this one:

Rosary/paternoster. German, 1475-1500. VAM

According to the museum's notes, this rosary has wooden beads, one large amber bead, and a set of silver gauds representing Christ's sufferings (nails, crown of thorns, etc). The pendant depicts Saints Barbara and Catherine.

Although the country of origin is given as Germany, I decided that this example would be a thematically suitable choice for using the gauds I had in mind (though they are only five in number, and are different shapes: hands, feet, and heart). So, for my first attempt, I tried to copy the original as closely as I could, using two sizes of dark brown wood beads, one larger amber-colored glass bead (the amber itself not being available), and a reproduction 15th century pewter badge of St. Barbara.

For the second--since I accidentally purchased two sets of the gauds--I decided to try a more goth version of the same design. When I was looking for examples of extant rosaries, I came across a number of individual beads, some plain amber or bone, others much more elaborate, including several which incorporate momento mori imagery such as skulls or even multifaceted deaths heads. The Met has a lovely example of momento mori beads in an extant paternoster. My version follows the same form as the first, using small bone beads with a skull-shaped bead half-way between each gaud; the pendant is an image of the crucifixion (based on 14th/15th century examples), with a large carved coral bead.

My replicas. Design from the 15th century VAM paternoster.
Components c. 14th-15th centuries.

For the stringing material, I plaited two linen cords, based on examples of fingerloop braid in Medieval Textiles. The book includes a few fragments identified as possible beading string, some narrow tablet-woven, others finger-looped (including a fragment with beads still on it, which is none other than the amber ones linked above). I couldn't get the woven version consistently round without the weft breaking on me, so I went with the fingerloop braids: one the usual 5-loop round I like for everything, but out of fine linen thread, the other a 3-loop variant of my own devising.

Silk beading cord, 3-loop linen braid, 5-loop braid.

 

Of course, when I went to string the beads, I found that neither braid was long enough for the wooden beads. Rather than making a 4th attempt, I simply strung those on my go-to size ff beading silk. The extra braid went into my stash of odd bits, and has already found a new use on my ear-scoop (which is really handy for cleaning one's nails of Faire dust).

All told, I like how both of these turned out. I wish I had had five more of the small wooden beads, as I ran out and ended up using a few large ones out of place. Proportionately, I think the bone version looks closer to the original, though the bone beads are almost too small to count by feel. If I was making a another one of these, I'd probably aim for the beads being a size larger than those small bone ones, with the mid-point beads closer to the size of the small wooden beads. Using smaller beads would also make the "amber" piece look larger by comparison, and thus closer to the original.

More Early Modern (& Medieval) References Online

It's faire season again. Last year I compiled some of my favorite easy-to-read books for refreshing on early modern social history and interpretation. This year, it's blogs and electronic references. These include primary (or at least photographs of actual artifacts), secondary, and tertiary sources which I believe be reliable. 

Blogs & Reference Sheets

The Internet Medieval Sourcebook and Internet Modern Sourcebook are the Holy Grail of searchable digitized original texts.

In addition to handwriting references, the National Archives' palaeography page also has handy references lists of county abbreviations, non-decimal currency units, term for land measurement, how Roman numerals were used in early modern English texts, and calendar peculiarities.

A Compendium of Common Knowledge contains introductory information on a wide variety of topics related to daily life in England c.1558-1603, from where to buy different goods in London to lists of the ranking peers.

Dr. Brett Devereaux's blog has (fully cited) essays on the logistics of military campaigns in the ancient through early modern period, as well as other topics relevant to pre-modern economics and warfare (like an overview of bread production). Note that this blog covers a wider time period that just the early modern, and that a number of its essays are focused on how fantasy media does or does not portray the historic systems it is nominally based on (which is great if you like overthinking LotR or GoT in addition to pre-modern history).

 Dr. Eleanor Janega's Going Medieval blog also has fully-cited, highly conversational essays on a variety of subjects, particularly those related to sex and death in medieval Europe.

Medievalists.net functions as a news site for medieval research: it announces new books, has essays on various topics, writes up current news related to medieval topics, and even has funny listicles (medieval swear words, anyone?).

 

Salt, c.1515-1530, Amgueddfa Cymru/National Museum Wales

Museum Collections

Portable Antiquities Scheme. Index of archeological finds in the UK. Lots of little metal items such as brooches. The UI is a little old-fashioned, but the search filtering is a delight.

Amgueddfa Cymru (National Museum Wales). The collection search doesn't include a filter by date range, but a search for "post medieval" turns up all sorts of metal and ceramic pieces, including the lovely Tudor lady salt dish above. Also lots of arrow heads...

Scottish National Museum. Also no date-filter on the collection search, but there are many cool items, such as medieval leather shoes and 17th century candle lanterns.

Museum of London has a lot of interesting artifacts found in the city. I especially like the medieval purse frames recovered from the Thames.

UK National Trust. Online collection database for historic sites across the UK. Mostly modern period, but there are some earlier pieces.

Victoria and Albert Museum. Focused on art and design, the museum's pre-1600 collection includes decorated ceramics, ecclesiastical items, and more textile fragments than one might expect.

National Gallery Tudor and Jacobean Portraits Database. Includes most of the early modern English portraits you've heard of. There's also some interesting essays on art history and conservation.

British Library Manuscript Viewer. Original manuscripts: useful for content, writing voice, letter shapes, and all kinds of illustrations. See also the British Library Digital Catalog of Illuminated Manuscripts for an illustration-search.

British Museum. Does have some items from Britain. Browsing the "medieval" and "post-medieval" period tags reveals pottery, glass, and metal artifacts.

Royal Armouries Collection. Not my usual, but if you're looking for early modern English arms and armor, this is the place.

Rotterdam Archeology has some very complete medieval metal and ceramic items (badges, sheers, pots) and even textiles. Amsterdam: Below The Surface likewise has a wide variety of items from pre-history to the 21st century. 

Geese from the Luttrell Psalter, British Library

Transcriptions of Tudor Charters, Accounts, Letters, etc.

Materials for a History of the Reign of Henry VII vol 1 & Materials for a History of Henry VII vol 2

Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York.

Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer of Scotland: A.D. 1506-1507 

Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, in the Reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James I

The Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth

The Girlhood of Queen Elizabeth: A Narrative in Contemporary Letters 

Queen Elizabeth and Her Times: A Series of Original Letters (vol 2)

Different, but related to period literature: JSTOR Understanding Shakespeare database.

Medieval Drawstring Pouch

Continuing the catch-up posts, last spring I made some fingerloop braids at the Two Rivers Faire, with the intention of making a round purse based on some of the archeological examples from Amsterdam:

• Leather purse (c.1300-1700), 11" diameter, 64 punched holes (~1/2" for a hole plus its adjoining space, punch size probably ~1/8 inch with 3/8 gap judging by how large the punched holes appear relative to the space between)
• Another, 5.6" diameter, ~48 holes (~3/8" for hole plus space, holes probably ~1/8")
• And a third, 12.5" diameter, ~72-74 holes (~just over 1/2" per hole, hole size nearing 1/4")

Of course, since embarking on this endeavor, the database has been updated to indicate that the ties were likely leather. Despite the simple design, my leather-punching skills proved inadequate, and I ended up letting this simple item linger in the To Do pile all winter. It's just a 9.5" leather circle, with 40 holes punched around the perimeter, and the striped fingerloop braid threaded through.

The pouch, open almost flat.

Closed pouch. Holds my replica coins and dice very well.

Revisting Wrocław Trencher Bread

Last spring, I tried making a medieval wheat/rye bread from Medievalists.net, which was in turn quoted from Maria Dembinska's Food and Drink in Medieval Poland (1999). The recipe is a reconstruction based on 14th century bread regulations from the city of Wrocław, so the ingredients are well-documented, though the method is speculative (and the results delicious). 

Since last year, I have found spelt flour (a particular wheat variety) and so decided to see how that changed the results compared to generic whole wheat.

As I do not have any mixing bowls large enough to contain a whole batch, I once again opted to make this recipe on a half-scale:

4 cups rye flour
3.5 cups spelt flour
1 cup beer
1/4 oz (2.5tsp) dry yeast in 1/2 cup water
2 additional cups water
1 Tablespoon salt

As given in the instructions, I started by mixing the flours together, then taking half of the mixture (~3 3/4 cups) and adding the proofed yeast, beer, and water. 

The 'before' picture of the sponge.

After sitting overnight (and through the workday), I added the remaining flour and salt, kneaded ~20 minutes, and took periodic breaks from kneading to hit the dough with a wooden rolling pin.

 

The dough then rose for another ~2 hours until approximately doubled in size. I kneaded it once more (with stick-hitting) for about 10 minutes, then shaped into 5 loaves each between 3" and 4" in diameter. I let the dough rise for another 90 minutes until the loaves expanded to 5"-6" across, then baked 15 min at 400F and a further 15 at 375F.

 

Finished bread.

 

The bread turned out perfectly edible: tasty, with a decent texture, though a touch dense. I think I could have gotten a better crumb by extending the final knead to a full 20 minutes and letting the loaves rise just a little longer, and will probably try that next time. The loaves were quite good the second day after baking (approximately T+36 hours), though the crust was rather hard to cut the day after that. As usual, this half batch was more than sufficient for a two-day event. I really should start making quarter-batches...

A Lace Bend Round, 15th Century

Braid and finished point.

Braid #25 from Tak V Bowes Departed. It's a two-color braid of 8 loops, in a spiral pattern which resembles a 2-ply cord. This braid wholly uses exchanges, which was good practice, since I've mostly done 5 strand braids where you pick up the active loops with an empty finger.

I worked it in gold and black beading silk (size FF), and fitted the ends with aglets to make a pair of points. I chose this braid as I wanted the cord to fit into the aglets, though it was almost too fine in this silk. However, the knotted ends of the braids fit the aglets easily and was able to I stitch them into place.

Wrocław Trencher Bread (Medieval Rye Bread)

I found myself without barley flour before the recent renaissance faire, and so went looking for a new bread recipe to try. I was very excited to find this reconstructed trencher bread recipe from Wrocław on medievalists.net because:

• It uses the types of flour (rye, whole wheat) I had on hand.
• It's based on documented ingredients and proportions.
• The instructions are really clear.
  
• I recently discovered that one of my ancestors immigrated from Wrocław, aka Breslau.

After making it, I was pleased because:

• It has a really nice texture.
• Good flavor (lots of compliments).
  
• Convenient-sized loaves.
  
• I got to hit the dough with a stick. Repeatedly.

I ended up making the recipe on a half-scale, which produced 5 loaves. Each loaf was conveniently sized to make a generous meal two people (we tend to sup on bread-and-cheese at Faire). The five loaves I made saw me through the whole weekend, with plenty to share. 

The recipe itself took a little time, since the sponge needs to be started the night before it is baked. Not having any barm, I took the option to use active dry yeast proofed in water (1/2 oz ~ 5 tsp, so this half-batch took 2.5 tsp yeast in 1/2 cup water), with a 5% lager as the beer (Foster's, selected at random). I also chose to use whole wheat flour with the rye, as I didn't have time to source any spelt flour. 

Despite having no added sugar, the yeast did it's job very well and the bread has a rich, full flavor. The pictures I took didn't turn out, but I decided to write this up anyway, so that I can duplicate this bread in the future. I'm eager to try it with spelt (and ideally barm, if I can find any), but would be quite happy to make it again exactly as is.

HFF 5.18: The More Things Change

The Challenge: The More Things Change. Make a dish or use an ingredient that was common in your historic era, but is unpopular or hard-to-find today. 

I decided to use an uncommon technique, and fry these pastries over an open fire. In a ceramic pan.

The Recipe: Risshewes from Harleian Manuscript 4016 (Two Fifteenth Century Cookbooks)

"Risshewes. Take figges and grinde hem ał rawe in a morter and cast a lituð fraied oyle there to. And þen take hem vppe yn a vessell and caste there to pynes, reysyns of corañce, myced dates, sugur, saffron, pouder ginger, and salt. And þen make Cakes of floure, sugur, salt and rolle þe stuff in thi honde and couche it in þe Cakes, and folde hem togidur as risshewes. And fry hem in oyle and serue hem forth."

The Date/Year and Region: c. 1450, English

How Did You Make It: I cut up a small handfull of figs, and ground them in a marble mortar, and mixed them with zante currants, chopped dates, a small handful of grandulated sugar, a few threads of saffron, about a tsp of powdered ginger, and a small piece of butter (for the "fraied oyle"). I omitted the "pynes", as I could not find any pine nuts to include (though I wondered if this actually meant "prunes", but decided "pines" is the more straightforward reading).

For the "cakes", I took about 1 cup of flour and 1/4 cup sugar and a dash of salt, cut in 1/2 cup butter, and added minimal amount of water to make a paste, rolled it out with a rolling pin, and folded into half-circles with a spoonful of fruit-paste in the center. I then fried them two at a time in butter over the coals.

Total Time: No clock outdoors, but I think it was about 30 minutes to mix things up and shape the pastries, and another 30 or so to fry them. [After the first 8, I switched to cast iron just to get the things done.]

Total Cost: This was a bit expensive with all the dried fruit to purchase, but I can't find the receipt. I did at least have some saffron threads left from my own harvest, which knocked the price down a lot.

How Successful Was It?: My cooking mentor compared them to fig newtons, which isn't a bad descriptor. Under her tutelage, I think the pastries turned out quite nicely, though frying them was a bit of a trick. I had transcribed the recipe as using butter, not oil, for the cooking, which was a bit higher temperature than the pan wanted to go, so things were cooking very slowly. The best/most crisp ones were the last few, which I threw in an iron pan after cooking almost half of the pastries on the ceramic. The butter certainly melted quickly, but it just wasn't hot enough to fry the pastries crisply. These first few weren't bad warm, but were obviously under-cooked as they cooled down.

How Accurate Is It? Other than the butter/oil issue, I think I did pretty well within the lose guidelines of the instructions (no quantities, no directors for the paste, etc).

 

HFF 5.7: Offal-ly Good

 

The Challenge: Offal-ly Good. Make a dish with offal or using parts of an ingredient that you normally wouldn't cook with. Watermelon rinds, seed pods, or anything edible-but-unexpected is on the table.  

The Recipe: Garbage from Harleian M.S. 279 "Potages Dyvers", as printed in Two Fifteenth Century Cookery Books 

xvij Garbage Take fayre garbagys of chykonys as þe hed þe fete þe lyuerys an be gysowrys washe hem clene an caste hem in a fayre potte an caste þer to freysshe brothe of Beef or ellys of moton an let it boyle an a lye it wyth brede an ley on Pepir an Safroun Maces Clowys an a lytil verious an salt an serue forth in the maner as a Sewe. 

In more modern spelling: 17. Garbage. Take fair garbages of chickens, as the head, the feet, the livers, and the gizzards, and wash them clean and cast them in a fair pot, and cast thereto fresh broth of beef or else of mutton and let it boil and allay it with bread and lay on pepper and saffron, mace, cloves, and a little verjuice and salt and serve forth in the manner as a sewe [stew?].

The Date/Year and Region: English, c.1430-1440

How Did You Make It: I saved the organs from the 4 boyl'd chickens made the previous night, as well as the remnants of one carcass (to substitute for the head/feet, which my cooking mentor recommended). Not being able to find any beef or mutton bones in the store(s), I used beef bouillon cubes for the beef broth. The meat and bones were added to the broth, and then boiled over the fire by my kind and able assistant. I added the pepper, saffron, mace, cloves, and salt just before serving. The bones were also removed prior to serving.    

Time to Complete: No time pieces were available, but it seemed ~ 1 hour-ish.

Total Cost: Unsure. The bouillon was about $2, but the chickens were purely left-over.

How Successful Was It?: It tasted great, though I still don't care for the texture of chicken hearts. I'd be tempted to copy the flavor profile for a chicken stew without organ meat. The spices were lovely with the chicken.

How Accurate Is It?: I purposefully substituted the carcasses of the left-over boiled chicken for the head/feet, after a long discussion with Friend-Who-Raises-Chickens. The reasoning is that the bones and cartilage and scraps of meat in the carcass should provide a similar flavor/thickening property as the head/feet, without the necessity of cleaning blood and feather off a fresh-killed chicken head (or assorted-barn-yard-matter off the feet). I'm also still working on the whole 'cooking with meat' thing, so I think this was the right choice for me. I omitted the bread on purpose since some of the diners need to avoid gluten/carbohydrates, and the verjuice on accident (I'd brought apple cider vinegar as a substitute for it). On the other hand, I couldn't find my ground cloves, and so used my mortar and pestle to grind up whole cloves, which was very fun. 

Garbage (pottage)

Sweets Bag, 15th/16th/17th century

Sweet bag, after a fashion. It's more a sampler for techniques than a proper sweet bag: the few surviving examples of which I can find tend to be much more fully embroidered, and ornamented with tassels and cords.

The bag is white linen, embroidered with red silk after the style of this smock. I started it a few years back as practice for the embroidered coif project, but never finished making it up. The squirrel is copied from the above smock, the other motifs (rose, bee, bleeding pelican, oak leaves, mutant-raspberry thing) are all out of A Schole-House for the Needle. The rose side is work in two strands (starting split stitch, switching to back); the squirrel side in single-strand backstitch.

Squirrel, acorn, and raspberry(?).

The string is "An Endented Braid" (5-loop round braid in bichromatic chevrons) from Tak V Bowes Departed, looped in blue and gold size FF silk.

Rose, bee, and a pelican stabbing itself.

I don't actually like how the ultra-narrow casing works, and wish the motifs were all a bit lower down. I'm already tempted to take out the casing for some added height and re-thread the the strings through the material itself to see if the closure works better. And because that appears to be the more customary method. Maybe add some extra tassels... 

 

Hair Lacing, Medieval/Renaissance

I decided to try properly lacing my hair (not just tying the braids), since the Tudor Tailor has spent quarantine producing a series of videos about this very topic, and it looked like fun to try. 

Solo hair lacing, day three attempt.

The whole style, after combing/parting, took 6:55 to complete. Two minutes of this was braiding, one minute was pushing the braids around on my head pointlessly, and the remaining 3:55 sufficed to thread the bodkin twice, stitch down the hair, and tie the ends of the laces. I expect to speed up with practice. I didn't use a mirror or modern styling tools, because that felt like cheating (and probably wouldn't have helped anyway).

Tools used: bone bodkin, wood comb, 2 2-yard linen tapes.

I found, experimentally, that the one of the just-over-two-yard tapes I wove for tying up my hair isn't quite long enough for this technique on it's own. Which makes a certain sense--I made the pair with the intention of using both to braid and tie my hair in this exact style. The Tudor "hair fairies" recommend a single 3-yd lace, which I was able to emulate by overlapping the two laces--instead of knotting them together, I braided a short length of each into the opposite braid, letting them cross at the back of the head. This anchored the tapes soundly, leaving a long tail to lace each braid with, and securing the extra ends away within the braids themselves.

Other initial lessons: this style is very convenient for tucking the hair away to sleep, with no lumps at the neck/back of head (even if it looks awful the next day--though I should see how it works with a coif overnight...). It will stay up for a whole day, including exercise, and doesn't have the 'strain' that a modern bun held with elastics develops over that time. My first attempts tended to stay "up" but slide back and forth on top of the head. I'm not sure whether this was because I was stitching through the braid or not starting at the hairline, but once I took my stitches from the far front and around the whole braid(s), everything stayed better in place. Two overhand knots (half hitches) work great for tying the end of the braids. Also, my hair is at a slightly awkward length for concealing the braid ends (they wind up just past the roots of the opposite braid), so I'll need to practice tucking those neatly or catching them in the opposing lace. 

Renaissance Velvet Purse

I finally made up the framed purse for my 16th century outfit. One more small step towards respectability.

The rose bead echoes the rose buckle.

I used the late 15th century large purse frame from Billy and Charlie's. It's a bit of a stretch for my usual 16th century events (~1570s), but I don't know of any other repro frames that get closer--and it's not terribly dissimilar from some 16th century purse frames. The outer fabric is black cotton velvet left over from a Victorian basque.

It doesn't show up above, but I decorated the exterior with the fabric stamps I impulse-bought from The Tudor Tailor earlier this summer. The finished effect may be a bit rich for my usual persona, but then mercenary companies were rather famous for 1) pillaging, and 2) dressing ostentatiously above their stations. For that matter, if Stubbs is to be believed, everyone is dressing above their stations.

Stamping was quick and easy. Unfortunately, the light must be hitting
this cotton velvet just right to see the impressions at all.

I lined the purse in white linen (Fabric-store.com's "IC64" mid-weight). Despite my intentions to actually use the machine where it wouldn't show, the velvet had other ideas. I ended up folding the raw edges down, running the lining to the exterior wrong-sides-together, then whip stitching the sides to form the purse.

Whip-stitching the side seams.

The laces and tassels are all handmade from size FF beading silk. I made a lucet cord to attach the purse frame to the hanger*. The drawstring is a 5-bow fingerloop braid, specifically "A Round Lace of 5 Loops", the #2 pattern in Tak V Bowes Departed. This lace ended up being a perfect fit for the pewter bead that came with the purse frame--the bead can be easily moved along the doubled cord, but otherwise stays securely in place.  

Rose-shaped pewter bead on the 5-loop round lace.

I was a bit concerned with how to insert the drawstring. It has ten threads at each end, and I figured I'd need an awl to open the fabric, and some drastic measures to coax the cord through. Then I remembered I own a trapunto needle. The eye held all the thread ends easily, while the point passed through the linen without difficulty (and the velvet with only a little work). I lost a little of the braiding at each end, but again less than I feared.

This is the largest needle I own by far.

* The frame's top loop is too short for my 1/2" belt (much less the chape) to pass directly through it. I suspect the hanger's meant for unframed purses to be suspended by their closure strings, but it'll do for now.

New Pipkin

Every project I've touched the last two months seems to be stuck at 90%, so here's the new toy tool I'm looking forward to trying.

Earthenware pipkin from Jeanne Wood.
It's glazed inside and out, and the green is even prettier in person.

Braid of Three Bowes

Pewter whirligig on blue silk fingerloop braid.

Messing around with fingerloop braids, again. This one is 3 bowes, using size FF beading silk. It's mostly an excuse for practicing the technique, though I needed a new string for the whirligig I got from Billy and Charlie's (I may have gotten a little too enthusiastic with the first).

Still Life

My new still from Goosebay Workshops

I've wanted a still for some time (it was the best part of O-chem), and finally have the chance to play with a repro one. Huzzah!

The Elements of Materia Medica and Therapeutics (1843) mentions distallation of rosemary with water to recover rosemary oil (used externally as a "stimulating liniment" or perfume); it also discusses rosemary spirits, that is, rosemary essence in an alcohol base (without or without the distillation step) .

Mrs. Rundell's The New Family Receipt Book (1823) describes distilling rosemary in wine spirits to make hungary water, and rose petals in water for rosewater.

A Cyclopedia of Practical Receipts (1846) gives receipts for distilling rosemary, lavender, mint and other herbs in alcohol or vinegar.

The Dictionary of Practical Receipts (1848) includes "rules for the distillation of simple waters", without specifying particular herbs.

The Magazine of Science and Schools of Art (1842) uses rosemary as the example herb for co-distillation with water; it also gives instructions for cinnamon, peppermint, orange peal, orangeflower, and jasmine, among others.

The Domestic Dictionary (1842) goes into more detail about water-herb distillation, but does not list specific herbs. Between these last three, I'm feeling fairly historically justified in applying the technique to everything in the garden.

First attempt was made with fresh-cut lavender.
By visual approximation, there were
about 3 dry quarts of flowers and stems.

Still set up on the stove. The damp towel helps cool
the condensing cone, while an ice-water bath is used
to keep the collection cup from heating up.

Approximately 3 cups of lavender water was made.
It's definitely been my most successful herb.

I've tried lemon balm, and rosemary as well (yielding 1 cup and 1.5 cups from similar quantities of herbs over a similar time). The rosemary smelled nearly as strong as the lavender, while the lemon balm was relatively insipid. Here's hoping the mint works well!

Belts, 16th century

Getting into the spirit of Faire season by posting my outstanding Tudor resource posts.

Belt buckle, German, 1520-1530. From VAM.

Belt buckle, German, 1520-1530. From VAM.

Belt hook, 15th century, French. From the MET.

Women's woven belt, Italian, 16th century.
The MET.

Katharina Merian. German c.1536-1552.
From the MET.

German woman. 1533. From the MET.

Unknown Lady. c.1575. UK National Trust.

Nazareth Newton, c.1578. UK National Trust.

Wimple Wednesday: Late 15th Century Tailed Cap

Departing from the draped and knotted flat rectangles, it's time for our first sewn cap.

Late 15th century tailed cap.

The tails should properly be tied over the head, but a miscalculation may have made them long enough to wrap all the way around and tie at the center back. [It looks really silly with the tails hanging down 8" from the proper knot position.] I will be fixing that, but meanwhile, it's a comfortable cap to wear, and goes on with little more fuss than the knotted kerchief. My hair is braided and wrapped around the head; it's very secure, and requires no hair or fabric pins, just two linen hair ties and the cap itself. Also, it looks awesome from the side:  

Sort of a 'witch meets smurf' shape.

The only structural seams are the center back and interior of the tails--all other seams (on mine) are from piecing scrap linen; it could/should be cut out as a single piece.  This is the last design I'll be playing with from The Medieval Tailor's Assistant; next week, it's on to the 16th century.

Book Review: The Tudor Child

The Tudor Child: Clothing and Culture 1485-1625 by Jane Huggett and Ninya Mikhaila (ed. Jane Malcolm Davies).

I was expecting a slim research volume akin to The Queen's Servants (which I love and will defend against all nay-sayers) and was pleasantly surprised at the depth and breadth of this book. It truly is The Tudor Tailor for smaller persons. The main geographical focus is on England and northern Europe, with some Italian references also included. The book clocks in at 151 pages, excluding notes and index.

The first fifty pages are research: a brief peak into children's lives during the period, followed by explorations of garments for infants/toddlers, girls aged 4-12, and boys aged 4-12.  While few garments survive for this period, they still manage to feature several garments or garment fragments, as well as period paintings, sculpture and even stained glass which depict children. All of the illustrations are color photographs.  There's a further 12 pages discussing the materials used in children's clothing, including the different colors which can be documented.  The construction section includes a couple of pages on general sewing techniques (pleats, gathering, buttonholes, making thread and cloth buttons, different seam finishes), as well as advice on selecting materials and on using the patterns.  The patterns compromise nearly half the book (over 80 pages).

The patterns in this book are for children 0-12, both boys and girls. Except for the basic garments, which are given in two-year-age intervals, most of these are given in a single size: some re-scaling and fitting will be required to take full use of this book. Fortunately, basic instructions are provided. The projects included are:

• Childbed linen for 0-3 month old (elite and simple versions)
• Knit waistcoat for 3-6 mo, and infant petticoat
• Shirt and smock (for 8 year-olds, but with instructions to adjust for all-sized children)
• Bodies (c.1591) for a 6 year-old
• Spanish farthingale for a 10 year old
• French farthingale for a 2 year old
• Basic doublet, bodice and sleeve patterns* for 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 and 12 year-olds
• Skirt patterns* (sized for an 8-year-old, with instructions to scale up and down)
• Doublet, hose and coat for a 6 year-old boy (early 16th century)
• Coat and petticoat for a 6 year-old boy
• Doublet, breeches and coat for a 10 year-old boy (late 16th century)
• 1560s Kirtle and coat/gown for a 4-year-old
• 1560s Waistcoat and petticoat for a 12-year-old girl
• 1520-30s Kirtle and Gown for a 6-year-old girl
• 1546 Petticoat, kirtle, foresleeves, and gown for a 10-year-old girl (Elizabeth I portrait)
• 1547 Jacket, hose and gown for a 10-year-old boy (Edward VI portrait)
• 1565 Kirtle and gown for a 10-year-old girl
• 1588 Petticoat and coat for an infant (8 mo)
• 1600-1608 Doublet and petticoat for a 2-year-old
• Loose gown for a 12-year-old girl (1580s-1620s)
• Bodies, petticoat, and gown for a 6-year-old girl (1600-1640)
• Aprons, bibs, ruffs, collars, cuffs
• Biggins, caps, and coifs
• Frontlets, bonnets, and French hoods
• Caps, bonnets, and hats
• Stockings, mittens, and shoes
• A doll

*These are used together to make coats, gowns, petticoats, etc.--not "bodice and skirt" separates.

For all of the garments, a small chart is included to indicate whether the garment was used by lower, middle or upper class children, and whether it is appropriate to the beginning, middle or end of the Tudor period (approximately 1485-1540, 1540-1580, or 1580-1625). Some styles are used by all, others show up only in upper class clothing or linger in lower class use after elite fashion has moved on.

The best part is that each garment and ensemble is modeled by adorable children--it's like a series of Bruegel and Holbein paintings come to life.  Additionally, there is a two-page photo tutorial showing how to properly swaddle a very young infant (0-3 months), and another showing how women's garments can be adjusted for pregnancy.

Overall, I think this is a fabulous book. It branches out a little from the adult volume--including a handful of knitting projects, as well as a basic infant turnshoe. With a little work to scale and fit, one could easily use this book to construct garments suitable for children of all ages and classes, from the late 15th to early 17th century.  Some of this could also be done by scaling down The Tudor Tailor's adult patterns to child-sized, but I wouldn't recommend that unless you're really strapped for time/money, have good drafting skills, and are clothing larger kids (infants and toddlers have some different styles than adults, even more so than older children).

Stars: 5

Accuracy: Pretty High.  A few original garments, but many original paintings; there is explicit explanation of what information is currently available about children's clothing in the period, and what is inference or speculation.  Each garment pattern has margin notes about the sources it is based on.

Difficulty: Intermediate to advanced.  Ambitious beginning sewists with good spacial reasoning and/or a mentor may also be able to make garments, particularly the basic ones. For less experienced sewists there is both basic sewing instruction and scaling/fitting advice included.

Overall Impression:  I think this is an interesting and worthwhile book in its own right, and would recommend it to anyone clothing children from the late 15th to early 17th century, or interested in learning about children's clothes from that period.

Tarte Owt of Lent

Tried a c.1500 cheese tart receipt for the Goode's Company Christmas repast (tagline: 'Oh God, so much ham!'), but neglected to get a picture. Writing it up, anyway, for the next time I try making it.

I used a modern translation from Historic Royal Palaces. They gave the original as:

Take neshe chese and pare hit and grynd hit yn A morter and breke egges and do ther to and then put yn buttur and creme and mell all well to gethur put not to moche butter ther yn if the chese be fatte make A coffyn of dowe and close hit a bove with dowe and collor hit a bove with the yolkes of eggs and bake hit well and serue hit furth.
-Gentyll manly Cokere

And translated it to (paraphrase):

Chop and pound 100 g of cheese, mix in 150ml cream, 1 egg, and seasonings to make a paste. Make a 10" tart case of shortcrust, fill with the creamed mixture, top with a crust, brush with egg, and bake 220C for 40 min or until golden.

I used this modern shortcrust recipe, requiring a double batch (~4 cups flour, 1 cup butter) to fill the 10" pan I was used. [Not having a tart pan or trusting my pastry, I used a springform pan, but only made the sides of the case ~1" tall.] The center also had to be doubled (~2 cups cheese, 1 1/3 cup cream, 2 eggs), as a single iteration did not even cover the bottom of the pastry.  I baked it at 400F for about 40 minutes, which was barely enough: it probably could have stood a few minutes longer, or a slightly hotter oven (220C is 428F, but my oven's weird about going above 400F).

I think this dish is meant to be served hot, but it did not suffer from being baked in the morning, refrigerated most of the day, and served in the evening. The recipe translation recommends a soft cheese, or any period-appropriate variety. This time, I used ricotta (as it was soft and readily found).
I also omitted the seasonings, as none were recommended and the original recipe made no mention of them (though I'm now wondering if that's because this tarte is meant to be a blank slate for whatever  seasonings strike the cook's fancy).

I think the final result was rich, but a bit bland. It went over well--all of it got eaten--but experimenting with seasonings is definitely in order. I talked to a few people, and it seems that we agree it could go either sweet or savory in the seasoning, and I'm tempted to try nutmeg or chives in the future.

Book Review: The Queen's Servants

The Queen's Servants by Caroline Johnson

The link above gives a good overview of the book's content, so I'll keep the summary brief. The main differences between The Queen's Servants and The Tudor Tailor is the emphasis on analyzing original garment records: we're taking pie charts of color and material frequency, period yardage/pricing info, and hypothesized cutting lay-outs. Additionally, this book only looks at ladies' clothing* (there are separate volumes for men's and children's), and focuses on the earlier Tudor period (reign of Henry VII and early reign of Henry VIII).  The illustrations include photographs of historic funerary monuments, artists' renderings of clothing from primary source texts, and photographs of reproduced garments.  It runs 56 pages, including references and glossary.

[*Specifically, high-ranking women attached to the royal household: princesses, queens, the ladies and gentlewomen who attend them, and the occasional court pensioner.]

The description and analysis of primary sources deal with the fabrics and furs used for clothing, discussing the colors, yardage, prices, and customs. I like that the sources are very clearly cited, and that conjectures are explicitly described as such.

The given patterns are for one smock (with neckline variations), one kirtle (sleeve and fastener variations), two gowns (four sleeves and neckline variations), and two bonnets.  The cutting patterns are given on grid paper, and will need to be sized to the wearer; general sewing instructions are also included, as well as marginalia showing relevant hand-sewing techniques. This isn't a beginner-friendly pattern, but I think it's quite clearly written, and would be usable by ambitious intermediate sewists.  Beginners (and people who don't want to scale-up cutting diagrams) may want to consider the related pattern line.

The focus of this book is more narrow than The Tudor Tailor, but I think the discussion of primary sources really makes it worthwhile.  If you're looking for lower class, mid/late 16th century, or men's clothing, this isn't the book you want. But for late 15th/early 16th century English noblewomen, you couldn't get a better reference. 

Stars: 5
Accuracy: High.
Skill Level: Intermediate, tending Advanced
Strongest Impression: Good scholarship; the different time-frame makes it a companion to The Tudor Tailor rather than competition.