Recipes

Here are some recipes and food ideas. Some are medieval, and are featured in my books. Others are favourites you might like to try.

Contents

The dish that killed the Pope

The dish that killed the pope

In chapter 15 of Theodore, Pope Eugenius dies after overindulging at a feast in the Lateran Palace. The dish that killed him was a gigantic bollito misto, a collection of miscellaneous meats boiled in a cauldron so big it had to be carried by four men. It would not be practical, or wise, to serve your guests the full papal version of this dish, but a lighter version is quite acceptable, especially if you can muster 10 or 12 people to eat it. This dish is best served at lunchtime (thus giving your guests time to recover) and in cold weather. My recipe borrows from the French Pot au feu, and other European models, as well as the Italian original. The timings are approximate, depending on the quality of the ingredients, but it takes about 5 or 6 hours in all.

To cook it you will need:

· 2 pig's trotters, or calf's feet, or a pig's mask

· A shin of beef (800g or 1kg)

· A large boiling fowl (2 kg)

· Sausage meat, or farce (500g)

· 1 Savoy cabbage

· Leeks, carrots, & onions

· 2 bottles of dry white wine e.g. Vin de Pays Charentais

· A bundle of fresh herbs, e.g. bay, rosemary, thyme, etc.

Method

1. Get up very early. (If not, you will have to serve the dish in the evening.)

2. Put the pig's trotters in your largest cauldron, add a couple of chopped leeks, pour in both bottles of wine and simmer gently for two or three hours.

3. When the trotters are falling apart, add the shin of beef, topping up the cauldron with water, if necessary. Add the bundle of herbs. Simmer gently for another two hours.

4. Meanwhile, detach a couple of dozen large leaves from the cabbage and plunge them into boiling water for a few minutes. Cool and drain the cabbage leaves, then stuff each leaf with a lump of sausage meat or farce, rolling the leaves into parcels like dolmades. Arrange the stuffed cabbage leaves in a single layer in a saucepan.

5. When the beef has had a couple of hour's cooking, add the boiling fowl, topping up the water level if necessary. Add a couple more leeks, chopped, and some sliced carrots, celery and onions.

6. After an hour, ladle out some of the stock and use it to poach the stuffed cabbage leaves. These should take about 45 minutes.

7. The dish is ready when the beef is tender and the chicken is almost falling off the bone.

To serve:

1. The broth, either plain or embellished, makes a good soup, which could be your first course.

2. Remove the chicken and shin of beef. (Note: the trotters should have disintegrated and thickened the stock. The remaining fragments do not look very nice, but they have their fans. Reserve them as a special treat for enthusiasts.)

3. Drain the stuffed cabbage leaves (adding their stock to the main pot).

4. Carve the meat and arrange it artistically on a large serving dish, with the stuffed cabbage leaves.

5. Ladle out the vegetables, drain them, and arrange them around the meat, or separately if the dish is not big enough.

Accompaniments:

· A large quantity of boiled potatoes, or pain de campagne.

· Several bottles of red wine, not too refined.

· Mustard, several sorts, e.g. Dijon, au poivre vert, whole grain, etc.

· OR Mostarda di Cremona (mixed fruit pickled in mustard oil)

· OR, a green sauce made of chopped capers, anchovies, garlic, parsley, breadcrumbs, with olive oil & a little vinegar.

Be sure to send your guests on a long walk after they have eaten.

Leftovers:

If any meat is left over, chop it up and arrange it a bowl or terrine dish, then fill up the dish with stock, reduced a little if necessary. Leave in the fridge overnight. If the stock is sufficiently gelatinous, it should set into a sort of galantine.

Figpeckers' (or quails)

In Memoirs of a Byzantine Eunuch, Zeno attends a feast in the eunuchs' quarters of the Great Palace of Constantinople. Among other things, he is fed on figpeckers. These are small birds such as warblers, which were roasted and served whole, their innards forming a piquant sauce. Thrushes, larks, woodcock and snipe, as well as many other species, have all been served in much the same way. However, these small birds are hard to come by, and are mostly protected in Europe.

For a roughly similar effect, I recommend quails. Quails are readily available in French and English supermarkets, though they have usually been gutted. If you find quails with their innards (a possibility in French markets), you might try the experiment of roasting them whole. They are also good stuffed with a mixture of cooked rice, gently fried onion, pine nuts and raisins. However, my favourite quail recipe is adapted from an Egyptian pigeon recipe given by Claudia Roden. My version is slightly simplified, using fewer flavourings, but it works well.

You will need:

· Quails, 1 or 2 per person, depending on how greedy they are

· 2 or 3 onions, finely chopped.

· Lemon juice

· Curry paste or powder (medium strength)

· Parsley, preferably flat-leafed, chopped

· A little olive oil (not too much, or it will cause smoke & flames when cooking)

Method:

1. Using a heavy knife or cleaver, cut the quails through the breastbone, then flatten them out.

2. Mix the chopped onion, curry paste, lemon juice, parley and olive oil. The result should be a thickish paste, which should be smeared over the flattened quails. The flavour of the quails should be spicy, but not noticeably curried.

3. Leave the quails to marinate for a few hours.

4. Grill the quails over hot coals for about 20 minutes, turning them regularly. It does no harm if the wings and legs are a bit charred at the ends. In fact, they crunch up nicely, bones and all. But the breasts should be tender and not scorched.

Serve with: plain risotto or pilaff, and a lightish red wine.

Snails

While living among the heretical monks of Cappadocia, Theodore solved a theological dispute about what can be eaten on fast days by serving stewed snails, which are not ‘flesh, fowl or fish’. (Theodore, chapter 3)

Contrary to popular belief, the Common or Garden Snail (Helix aspersa, pictured right) is perfectly edible, and in France it is eaten far more often than the larger Burgundian snail (Helix pomatia).

Collecting snails

I am wary of collecting snails in towns, as you cannot be sure what they have been eating. However, if you live in the country, or have a large garden (and do not use slug pellets), harvesting snails is perfectly safe, and combines pest control with gastronomy in a most satisfying way. They are best collected during the summer, at dawn or dusk, during rainy weather. If you search among shrubs you may find large quantities.

After collection, snails should be kept for two weeks (or longer) in an upturned bucket or flowerpot (with any holes blocked) in the shade. Conditions should be moist, but not wet. They should also be fed on dry bread, which purges them of any poisonous leaves they may have eaten.

Preparing snails

When you are ready to cook your snails, do the following:

1. Rinse the snails thoroughly with fresh water.

2. Sprinkle them with salt. This will encourage them to withdraw into their shells, and draw off some of their slime.

3. Plunge the snails into a large pan of boiling water. Simmer them for 15 minutes, to allow the slime to dissolve, than drain and cool them.

4. Using a cocktail stick, skewer, or small fork, remove the snails from their shells. This involves a twisting movement, to ease the spiral tail out of the inner coils of the shell.

5. Cook the snails (without their shells) for about 40 minutes, in stock or water flavoured with a bunch of herbs (bay, thyme, rosemary, etc.)

6. Drain the snails. At this point, they can be frozen, or used straight away.

Stuffed snails (Escargot à la Bourguignonne)

In restaurants, this dish is made with large Burgundian snails, but it works just as well with garden snails.

1. Prepare the snails as above.

2. Make some ‘snail butter’ (butter mixed with crushed garlic and finely chopped parsley).

3. Put the snails back in their shells.

4. Insert a small lump of snail butter into the mouth of each shell. It should form a plug, concealing the snail.

5. Arrange the snail shells, mouth upwards, in a gratin dish.

6. Sprinkle a good layer of breadcrumbs over the dish.

7. Bake in a hot oven for 15 minutes.

Stewed snails (or Cagouilles Charentais)

In southwest France, small snails are called cagouilles. They are so popular in the Charentes that the locals call themselves Cagouillards, in recognition of their supposedly slow and retiring nature. This traditional dish can still be found on the menus of humbler restaurants in the Cognac area, where 30 or 40 snails are considered a portion. I would use fewer, and serve the dish as a first course.

1. Prepare the snails as above.

2. Take a couple of slices of dark, well flavoured ham and chop them up very small. (Poitrine fumée or smoky bacon will do, though it gives a stronger flavour.)

3. Chop a medium onion finely.

4. Fry the ham and onion gently in a little butter, until the onion is soft and golden.

5. Add the snails (without their shells), some chopped garlic, a spoonful of tomatoe purée, and a bouquet garni.

6. Pour in enough red wine to cover the ingredients.

7. Simmer gently for an hour or so.

8. Add a little flour, or beurre manié, to thicken the sauce.

Serve the stewed snails in one of the following ways:

· Traditional: put the snails back in their shells, arrange them in ramekins, with the sauce. Garnish with parsley.

· Easy: as above, without the shells.

· Confusing: spoon the stewed snails into little puff-pastry cases, or onto small squares of toast. Cover them well with sauce. Your guests may mistake the snails for mushrooms, until you explain what they have eaten.

Summer oysters

At the same feast where he is served figpeckers, Zeno also eats summer oysters and notes their peculiar flavour. In England, you are unlikely to find oysters in the summer, because of the taboo on eating shellfish when there is no 'r' in the month. In France, they have heard of the taboo, but ignore it, and their markets are full of seafood all year round. If you see oysters for sale in July or August, (which is their breeding season, when they are full of gametes), try them. You will be amazed by the rich, custardy flavour.

Fish soup

Fish soup is a recurring motif in Theodore. Theodore is fed on fish soup when he wanders the Cilician coast as a young man, he later sees the cooking of fish soup as metaphor for the blending of the humours and elements in human nature, and, in old age, he teases Wilfrid by sending him a recipe for the fish he claims to have caught miraculously. Precise recipes for fish soup are hard to write, especially now that so many North Sea and Atlantic species are on the brink of extinction. Substitutions are often necessary. Even when fish were cheap and abundant, cooking fish soup was partly a matter of chance, of making something out of whatever was on offer in the market. Different regions define their soups by the presence or absence of certain ingredients.

Whole fish, or fillets?

Traditional recipes often specify that soup should be made from whole fish. This is a relic of the days when fishermen made soup from whatever they could not sell, throwing ugly, unpopular, over- or under-sized fish into a pot with whatever vegetables they happened to have. I find that this method, however authentic, results in a sludgy soup, full of bones eyes and scales, which is likely frighten less intrepid diners. I prefer to fillet the fish, then to make a stock by boiling all the bones and heads for twenty minutes (any more than this and the stock will smell of glue). The strained stock makes an excellent base for any soup, and is also good for cooking seafood risotto.

I offer two recipes: Bouillabaisse, and Chaudrée

A sort of 'bouillabaisse'

I don't claim that this recipe is authentic, nor are the quantities accurate, but it is very flexible, and can be adjusted for any number of people.

Fish soup starts with a trip to the market (or the fishmonger). There is no point in having a fixed list of species. It is best to go with a rough idea of what is needed, and select from whatever is on offer. The main requirements are:

· Firm-fleshed fish, such as monkfish, conger eel, weever (be careful of the poisonous spines), or john dory. (All of these are increasingly hard to find, and expensive, so substitutes may be necessary.)

· Red fish, such as rascasse (the essential ingredient for a true bouillabaisse), red mullet, or gurnard.

· White fish, which will dissolve into the soup, such as: whiting, cod, hake, grey mullet, or almost anything.

· Bivalves: mussels or clams (palourdes, or vongole).

· Crustaceans: large prawns, or langoustines, or lobsters, if you are feeling extravagant.

· Decapods: small squid, cuttlefish or octopus (or large ones, cut into pieces. In France, prepared cuttlefish bodies, sold as blanc de seiche, are ideal if cut up.)

You can make a good soup with one or two items from each list, or whatever equivalent you can find. The decapods are not essential, (and some would say that including them is heretical) but I like the contrast in texture they provide.

You will also need:

· A couple of onions, and a few leeks, chopped up.

· Some chopped celery and fennel (optional).

· 800g of tomatoes, skinned &chopped, or the equivalent in tins.

· Olive oil

· A bottle or two of cheap but drinkable white wine, e.g. Vin de Pays Charentais

· Saffron, preferably filaments rather than powder.

· Herbs: bay, thyme, fennel leaves

Method

1. Fillet all the fish and make stock by boiling the bones in water or white wine, for no more than 20 minutes. Cut the fillets into manageable pieces.

2. In a large casserole or cauldron, gently fry the onion, leek, celery and fennel in plenty of olive oil. They should soften and turn golden, but not brown.

3. If you are using squid, cuttlefish etc, add it now.

4. Add the chopped tomato and cook for a few minutes.

5. When the stock is ready, sieve it and add it to the other ingredients. If there is not enough liquid, (and you need quite a lot to cook all the fish & seafood), add a bottle of white wine.

6. Add the saffron and a bouquet garni, then simmer the stock so that all the ingredients form an emulsion. You can keep this mixture ticking over for a while, until you are ready to add the fish, which should be done almost at the last minute.

7. Add the fillets of firm-fleshed fish and simmer for 5 minutes

8. Add the red fish, white fish, and the crustaceans. Simmer briefly.

9. Add the mussels or clams. (These take longer than you think, perhaps 5 or 6 minutes.)

10. When the mussels are open, add the white fish. As soon as the fillets start to break up, the soup is done.

Serve with: garlic croutons, aïoli (garlic mayonnaise) or rouille (mayonnaise with chillies and garlic) and plenty of French bread for mopping up the juices. You can ladle out the soup and serve it first, then eat the fish, or eat the whole lot together. )

Wine: a crisp white, or a chilled rosé, such as Côtes de Provence (The latter is good with aïoli, but is usually disappointing when drunk outside France.)

Chaudrée

This is a charentais fish stew, and the dish from which chowder is derived.

To make it for 4 hungry people you will need:

· A large eel, or a couple of medium ones, cut into 5cm lengths

· 2 medium-sized skate wings, each cut in half lengthways

· 2 large blancs de seiche (These are cuttlefish bodies, cleaned and prepared. They look like disks of gleaming white rubber, and are very popular in the Charentes. Squid or octopus, cut into pieces, would be an acceptable substitute.)

· 2 soles, filleted if you like, or fillets of some other white fish.

· 2 large onions, roughly chopped.

· A bottle of white wine, e.g. Vin de Pays Charentais

· A large lump of butter.

· several cloves of garlic.

· Flour

· Parsley, preferably flat-leafed, chopped.

Method

1. Gently fry the onion in the butter. It should be soft and golden. When it is done, add the garlic, crushed, and cook for a while.

2. Add the blancs de seiche, or whatever decapods you are using. Cook gently for about 20 minutes.

3. Add some flour, blending it well into the butter.

4. Add about half the wine, stirring well to make a thinnish white sauce. Simmer very gently for a while.

5. Add the eel. Cook for about 15 minutes.

6. Add the skate, cook for 5 minutes, then add the white fish fillets. The dish is ready when the fillets start to fall apart.

7. Sprinkle with chopped parsley and serve.

Serve with: plenty of French bread, or boiled potatoes, or garlic croutons.

Eels

Eels are among the best of fish, and, increasingly, one the most expensive. They are now so hard to find that we probably ought not to eat them. If you can find sustainably sourced eels, then please try these recipes. If not, read them and regret.

Smoked eel is even better than smoked salmon, and can be used in the same way. If not smoked, eels should always be bought alive. The fishmonger will kill the eel and chop it into sections of the desired length. These will twitch and quiver for some time, but should have stopped by the time you cook them. Eel is unusual in going well with red wine.

Recipes

Jellied eels are just about the nastiest dish I can think of, and a complete waste of such an expensive ingredient. Eels are excellent when cooked in many other ways. I recommend the following:

· Smoked eel, warmed, and served with a green salad

· Grilled marinated eel

· Deep fried eel (alone, or as part of a fritto misto di mare)

· Anguille aux oignons (or 'Eel Crumble')

· Eel stewed in red wine, with leeks and bacon

Smoked eel, warmed, and served with a green salad

(Adapted from a Roux Brothers recipe)

1. Remove any skin and bones from the smoked eel

2. Prepare a green salad, include some chives, or other herbs

3. Make a dressing, either vinaigrette, or a herb mayonnaise, diluted with a little lemon juice.

4. Make croutons by gently grilling slices of French-type bread, then rubbing them with garlic

5. Fry the lardons (small bits of poitrine fumée or smoky bacon) and add them to the salad

6. Dress the salad and arrange the croutons

7. Gently warm the eel fillets under the grill. Arrange them on top of the salad

Grilled marinated eel

This dish works well with a large or medium eel.

1. Get the monger to cut the eel into 6cm lengths.

2. Marinate the eel for several hours in dry white wine or lemon juice (just enough to cover the eel pieces), and a spoonful or two of cognac, and some crumbled bay leaves.

3. Light a barbecue, using charcoal or vine prunings. Prepare some breadcrumbs.

4. Drain the bits of eel, then skewer them, two or three per skewer, with bay leaves or lemon slices between each piece.

5. Grill the eel until it is almost cooked through (and most of the fat has drained out). Roll the skewered eel pieces in breadcrumbs, then return to the heat until the breadcrumbs brown.

6. Serve with lemon, which will offset any remaining fattiness.

Deep fried eel

This works best with small eels, cut into 3 or 4cm lengths.

Simply dip the bits of eel in a light batter, or into seasoned flour, then deep fry them briefly.

Do the same with some shrimps or small prawns (in the shells, and preferably alive), some tiny squid or cuttlefish, and some cockles or mussels (gently steamed to remove them from their shells), and you have a fritto misto di mare. Drain the fried fish on kitchen towels, then serve with of lemon slices.

Anguille aux oignons, gratinée au four

(Or 'Eel Crumble')

This recipe is from a Charentais fishmonger, and works with large or medium eels, cut into 10cm lengths. 2 eels, weighing a total of 1.5kg, will feed 6 people.

1. Slice 1kg of onions, then fry the slices gently in butter, until they turn soft and golden.

2. Turn the onion out into a gratin dish.

3. Arrange the eel sections on top the onion, then scatter with chopped garlic and parsley.

4. Pour in a glass or two of Pineau des Charentes (or any sweet wine or sherry)

5. Sprinkle the dish with olive oil.

6. Cover all the ingredients with a good layer of breadcrumbs.

7. Bake in a medium hot oven, for an hour or so, until the eel is done and the breadcrumbs are crisp

This dish is best served with white wine

Eel stewed in red wine

This dish comes from the Loire, where it is known as a matelote. There are many variants, which are described by Jane Grigson in Fish Cookery. It can be made with eels of any size, cut into suitable lengths. 1.5kg of eel will feed 6 people.

1. Take a piece of poitrine fumée (or smoky bacon) and cut it into cubes. Gently fry these lardons in a little olive oil, in a sauté pan.

2. Meanwhile, chop up the whites of 3 or 4 medium leeks.

3. When the lardons are brown, add the chopped leek and cook until they are soft.

4. Add the eel pieces and fry gently for a couple of minutes.

5. Pour in enough red wine (something light and fruity, perhaps from the Loire) to cover the other ingredients. Add a bouquet garni.

6. Simmer gently for about 30 minutes.

7. If the sauce is still very thin, remove the solid ingredients to a serving dish, rapidly reduce the liquid, then thicken it with butter and flour.

8. Serve, garnished with parsley and accompanied by croutons.

Variants:

· Add some prunes that have been soaked for a while in red wine. They will thicken and sweeten the sauce.

· Instead of red wine, use a medium-sweet white, such as Vouvray.

· Use small onions (whole, but peeled) instead of the chopped leek.

· Just before serving, thicken the sauce with a mixture of egg yolks and crème fraîche.

Salt cod

Cod, like eel, is now rare and expensive. In the middle ages it was abundant and cheap. I suspect that much salt cod is actually similar but more abundant species such as pollock. If so, it tastes just as good.

Thomas Deerham, the hero of False Ambassador, does not like salt cod. He is made to eat it unsoaked as a forfeit, fed on it constantly by a merchant he works for, and sails in a pilgrim ship that stinks of stockfish, which is the staple diet of the crew. Some readers of the book have been put off, and refused to eat salt cod, however carefully it has been prepared. To recreate the medieval experience, you could try the very dry, very salty cod sold in West Indian shops and market stalls. Even after days of soaking it smells pretty revolting and is very chewy. Similarly plank-like, but not quite so pungent cod can be found in French or Spanish markets. Soaked for long enough, it can be quite good in the right recipe. However, most of the salt cod (morue) available in France is very different. It is not dried, and is only lightly salted, and only needs a few hours soaking before cooking. I recommend the following recipes:

· Brandade de morue (puréed with cream and olive oil).

· Bacalhao dorado (poached, flaked, mixed with gently fried onion, thin chips and black olives, with scrambled egg stirred in at the last minute).

· Poached gently in a sauce of tomato, onion and chilli, thickened with ground almond.

· Served as part of an aïoli garni (crudites and seafood served with garlic mayonnaise)

Bon appétit!