SC - A real siege cook challenge

[Terry Nutter]

Hi, Katerine here.

Well, we got back less than 12 hours ago, and all my books are still packed,
but here goes.

Christ succour me, the Count arrives to eat the first meal prepared by the
new English cook, his personal cook being away, and it's at the end of a 
siege, and the larder is empty as most of the castle bellies!  At least 
there's the last of that boar, and the chicken, and it's a meat day; I
cannot and will not feed him stockfish the first time out, so let the
herring go hang.  No, a moment; leech it, and make stock.  I'll need more
broth than the one chicken will provide.  Set a boy to that.

All right then.  The pork, what best to do with it?  A good baken dish,
to stretch a little of it, and the rest with egurdouce.  I don't have the
ale for flaumpeyns; it's a crustade or an herbelade.  The herbelade, I
think; I'll have other custard later (I'll need it).  That chicken is
going to be mawmenny and blanc desire, and I'll use red wine for white
and be done.  Joutes are easy; there's plenty of greens in the garden
yet, and the fish stock will do for it.  The strawberries are long gone,
but there are blackberries in the woods; I'll make a fresee of blackberries.

What else?  There will be *some* edible bird in the woods, likely down
by the stream.  Send out a hunter, with orders not to come back without
at least two things that fly and can be eaten, or one if it's a great bird.
That roast before the fire, dressed on a platter and served with salt.

A salad, of course.  And a mon ami.  And bread.

The almonds will have to be carefully parcelled out; I'll need them
everywhere.  And the sugar; nothing quite so sweet as usual, but then
they use less sugar here than back home, so that's well enough.

Thank God it's only the Count and the seneschal; if I had to feed a
normal sized group, it would be quite impossible.

Well, then, the first course: mawmenny and blanc desire, of course,
departed in a dish.  And joutes, and the herbelade, and the fresee of
blackberries.  Then, for the second, bore in egurdouce, the roast
birds (whatever they turn up), a salad, and the mon ami.  And manchet,
of course, on the table to start (no fruit or cheese, but I can't
help that).  And save some wine for the man to drink!  A modest meal,
but he's been eating army fare, and anyhow, will hardly expect a
feast (and if he does, there's aught I can do for it anyhow).

For the mawmenny and blanc desire: boil the chicken, reserving the
broth, remove the skin and bones, grind the flesh in a mortar, and divide 
it between the two dishes.  To the mawmenny, take two cups of the wine
(really, it should be white; ah well), 1/2 cup of the sugar, 1/2 cup
of the almonds, 1/4 tsp of the ginger, and a separate few almonds.
Boil the wine and sugar; grind the main part of the almonds and draw 
up.  Now I need rice flour, but have only wheat, and no time to make
amydon of it.  Well, never mind.  Take a couple of ounces, have it
bolted at least twice and sifted, then blend in carefully with a bit
of the syrup, before adding.  Simmer the lot, then blanch and fry
the few almonds aside.  When it's ready for the dish, put on its side,
sprinkle over ginger, and strew on the fried almonds.

To the blanc desire, draw an almond milk with the broth -- a lot,
and very thick, as I have no rice -- add in a little sugar and salt,
and simmer with the ground flesh until standing.  That goes on the
other side of the dish.  The red and white will look well, and it's
the proper way to serve them, though as they're such very English
dishes, I doubt he'll notice.

The joutes I've set one of the boys to make up; reminding him and the
boy in charge of the salad not to fight over anything.  The garden still
produces will, God be praised.  He'll want some of the onions, and a
little grease to fry them in, once he's parboiled them, but that's
no problem.  Remember to give that drop of oil that's left [Note: I'm
taking my fat as a little oil, and the rest white grease] to the boy
in charge of salad.  And be sure to tell him to search the stream
banks for more cresses and mints; we've enough other herbs fresh and
lettuce to make a fine mix.  And vinegar, of course, to pour over
with the oil.

For the fresee: set aside almonds, of course, and a little of the
milk, and one loaf of manchet.  And spices -- cloves, cinnamon, and
mace [Note: my one other spice, because no kitchen would be without
it, and it's easy to slight and so stretch], a little each.  Boil
the berries in an almond milk drawn with water, and I think just
a little of the wine; thicken with the bread, and spice to taste.

That leaves the herbelade.  A quarter part of the pork, parsley and
sage from the garden a little hyssup [Note: my dried herb, one of
the few used so year round], half a dozen of the eggs, salt, just
a hint of sugar, and likewise of the ginger.  Bolt some more of the
flour to make a coffin with water, and bake it.

Now to the second course.  The egurdouce will need those last currants
and dates [Note: I'm splitting my other dried fruit between them; again,
absolute staples], ground together, a bit of cloves, red wine in 
default of sweet and as much of the sugar as I can spare, the rest
going to the mon ami.  Add a little of the ginger and simmer.  Blanch
a few more almonds and dry them.  Slice the pork, lay sliceds on a
dish, plant around the almonds, and pour the sauce over.

The roast birds are simplicity itself, once the hunters get back.
They'll surely find *something*.  The salad I've set the boy to; the
gardens will provide, and I must remind him to use borage, and mint,
and whatever good green herbs are there.

For the mon ami, take the cream from the milk, then make curds of the
rest and bray them fresh.  Add sugar and butter, and simmer it all
together, then take a few fresh egg yolkes strained, and after it's
off the fire, stir them in, enough to thicken.  And send another boy
to gather violets from the garden to garnish.

None of it will be quite as sweet as I like, but he's not used to as
much sugar as I am anyhow.  And I'm short of almonds, and using them
fried where I would use pynes, at least for the blanc desire, if I
had them, but one does what one can.

I really need at least one more chicken.  I'll send a boy out to look,
but I doubt he'll find.

========================================================================

For implements: my kitchen is intact, since the siege was lifted and did not
reach it.  I have my roasting spits, my ovens, my gridirons (though I won't
use them for this meal), all my pots (and their suspension arrays), fry
pans, long-handled spoons, forks, ladles, and the like; and all the usual
array, for preparation, of mortars and pestles, knives, bolting and
straining cloths, and so on and on.

With this much food left, nobody has starved, so I have a staff of
probably at least thirty (though I won't use most of them for so small
a meal!), ranging from scullions to wash, grind, chop, etc., to lesser
cooks.

Would I try this at Pennsic?  Not without a better spit than I have, an
oven, five more trivets (I currently have one, that holds one pot),
and another pair of hands to help.  With all that, it could be done.

An apology for not being more specific with amounts; what I would 
actually do is take what I have and divvy it up.

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Cheers,

- -- Katerine/Terry

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