The first thing you are likely seeing here is a recipe. I try to translate one recipe from a historical source every day, and here is where I post them. When I have time to experiment, I also post reports on actually trying out the dishes or short articles on other historical questions I find interesting. But mostly, it is recipes. I hope you enjoy them.
This is the final recipe from Philippine Welser’s collection. I must ask your patience – the full translation will go up sometime in December, I hope.
246 To make a white mues or bla manschy
First take rice and wash it cleanly, and then pick it over. When it has been washed and picked clean, put it into a vessel or on a boards and lean it towards the fire. When it is quite dry, you must pound it well in a mortar and strain it through a sieve or a cloth so it becomes like (as fine as) flour. Secondly, cut out the breast of a hen or of
To make a Manschy Plamby First take rice, have it washed and picked cleanly. When it is washed and picked, put it into a vessel or on a board and lean it towards the fire. When it is well dried, you must pound it well in a mortar and strain it through a sieve or cloth so it becomes like (as fine as) flour. Secondly take (struck out: the meat of the breast of a capon) the breast cut out of a capon and put it into a pot or cauldron. Set it by the fire and let it boil until it is cooked, but not too much. Then take out the breast and let it cool. Then pull it apart like silk and then wrap it in a napkin (saruet) so it does not become hard or pointy. Third, take a handful of the rice flour, put it into a clean tinned vessel, be that a tinned bowl (peckh) or pan, and pour on good cream. Stir the flour nicely so that it turns very thin and set it over a coal fire in a tinned cooking vessel. Always keep stirring it so it doesn’t burn or turn lumpy. This way, it quickly becomes thick and you must add a little more cream and stir it again. And when it boils up again, you throw in the torn-up breast and pour on a little rosewater. When it is about to become thick again, take fine, pounded sugar and also add it so it becomes nicely sweet. It must also be salted and fresh butter added, as much as a hen’s egg. Then take it off the fire and serve it. The mues must be quite thick when you put in the sugar because when the sugar is added, it immediately becomes thin. It must also not boil for long after the sugar is added because it will turn black after that point. But if you want to make it with fish, take a pike and let it boil like you usually boil one, except you must not add any vinegar. Then take out the pike and remove the bones from it or pick them out. Chop the pike and treat it as is described for the chicken breast. Or (you can) also pick a stockfish apart in this way and boil it, and when it is well boiled, take it out and pick it apart into the mues when it is made, as it is described with the other (ingredients). And when you serve it with fish, set neat piles all around them in the bowl with a spoon.
This recipe ends the collection, and it is decidedly odd. Not only is it almost identical to an earlier one (#237), it begins with a first paragraph that breaks off midsentence and then starts again, like some podcasts when you try to skip an ad break. This is not likely to be an oversight – corrections are made in the text elsewhere in the manuscript, and anyway, the text contains no error. Nor is this a case of someone returning to his notes and absentmindedly rewriting the same thing. This book was written by a scribe. Paper and column inches cost money. It is hard to say what happened here, but it must have been something significant at the time.
Another thing it does is add to our already broad collection of German names for blanc manger. Afterblamenser/blamensir and pulverisei, we had Philippine Welser’s collection refer to it as sugar mus and plamauschy. The slightly less garbled blamanschy we find in the title of the recipe is clearly derived from the French name of the dish, but interestingly, the second beginning calls it manschy plamby, a far-fetched derivation of its Italian name we find more faithfully reproduced by Rumpolt as Manscho Blancko. Consistency in naming continues to underwhelm.
In terms of content, there is little new here except the information that a fish blanc manger would be served as an accompaniment to cooked fish, arranged artfully in the serving bowl. It must have been reasonably thick to allow this, and modern cooks might well consider piping it.
Thus ends my work on Philippine Welser’s recipe book, a fascinating resource.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
This is the penultimate recipe in the collection of Philippine Welser, a variation on a verycommon theme of ‘green tart‘ and a reminder that all food was seasonal:
245 To make a tart of greens (Kraut Turten) of very young and fresh chard
Take young and very fresh chard and cut up the same with a knife raw, as small as possible. Salt them as needed and then squeeze/crush (zertruckhen) and grind this kraut well with very clean hands. Thus the water is pressed out with your hands. Discard this water, then take fresh cheese (schotten) and likewise mix it with the abovementioned kraut. This will also call for a good soft Taig (this could mean the dough for the crust, but also mass for filling using egg), as fresh and gentle as can be found, that is used with it. In this manner, as described before, mix it, and you can also add sugar or other spices, or make such a tart without sugar or any spices, that is up to anyone’s choice and pleasure. And you must place fat in the pan underneath the dough as is needed and thus let it bake. That will be a good tart. These tarts are most fittingly and conveniently made in March.
Note that with any and every tart, the dough and the edge/top crust (renfftlin) must be made and set up as is sufficiently described for the first one, and neither sugar nor other spice (species) be stinted if the tart is supposed to be good.
This recipe is in no way unusual, but quite refined. The basic kraut tart was made with leafy greens, cheese, and eggs. Kraut, unless otherwise defined, usually means cabbage, but in the case of these tarts almost always means chard, spinach, parsley, or other kitchen herbs. In this case, it is very young chard leaves which, in March, would still be small and tender enough to process raw. Mixed with fresh cheese and whatever spices you wished, it would make a fine tart to celebrate the fact you had more than enough to eat in the hungry month of March.
The insistence on sugar and on a top covering that is described elsewhere as a kind of proto-meringue involving sugar, rosewater, and beaten egg white seem incongruous to moderns, but they are the signasture style of the later tart recipes in this collection. This could actually reflect a personal idiosyncrasy, the taste of Philippine Welser herself.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
It has been a long day, so there is a brief recipe. From Philippine Welser’s collection: A sweet fish tart
244 To make a fish tart
In the beginning, you must take a piece of fish, be it trout, pike, or another kind, as you can get them, that was boiled hot. Take out the bones everywhere and cut this hot-boiled piece of fish into small pieces and diligently pound it in a mortar as finely as possible. Then take half a pound of good almonds that were also diligently pounded separately and pass the fish and almonds through a sieve with one or two eggs, but no more, and as they are (with whites and yolk). Then take a Seutel full of sugar, add a little rosewater, set it over the coals and let it melt (until it becomes) like water. Take whatever parts of the fish and almonds could not pass through the sieve the first time and pass it through again with this melted sugar. Stir it all together with all diligence and add cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and pepper. There must be more of cinnamon (than of the other spices), and it is most necessary. You may use a little of the other spices according to the occasion and the size of the tart. Make it with its dough and cover of sugar, egg whites, and rosewater as is described for the first tart. This will become a good tart.
This is the next recipe in the sequenceof tarts at the end of the manuscript, and certainly a strange idea to modern sensibilities. Sweet fishdishes are not unknown in the medieval tradition, but this one takes it farther than most: White fish and almonds ground with eggs and sugar syrup, then heavily spiced and baked under what is probably a kind of meringue topping. It is likely to come out tasting like spicy marzipan. I do not think the fish is going to be very noticeable, though of course that will depend on the proportions which we do not learn. I am not sure it is worth the trying, but if I ever have a piece of cooked trout left over, I may give it a go.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
Another recipe from Philippine Welser’s collection, this one is for a green tart made with sage:
243 To make a green tart
First, you need just sage, or also chard, parsley, and other herbs, according to everyone’s pleasure and taste. Take them and pass their juice through a sieve with unstinting sugar, egg whites, and milk. Then make a dough (crust) and edge as described above, not sparing any expense, thus it will be a good tart. If the tart is made with sage alone, as is up to anyone’s pleasure and fancy, the almonds are not needed. But if other herbs are used along with or other than sage, you may use a little bit of almonds with it.
This is not like the ubiquitousgreen or herb tart we find in so many sources. Instead of mixing chopped greens with egg and dairy, here, a sweet custard is coloured using the juice of fresh herbs. There is, in fact, a very similar recipe earlier in the same manuscript:
50 If you want to make a sage tart
Take 2 bunches of sage and two bunches of parsley greens and pound them together in a mortar. Press the juice out thoroughly. Then take a pound of sugar, well pounded, and put it into a bowl. Take ginger to the value of one kraytzer and pepper to the same value, and a little salt, all pounded small. Further take eight eggs and a quarter (qwerttlich) milk, or a little more. Then take the above juice, mix it all together, coat the pan with butter and make the base as thin as possible. Have a care with the embers, you must often lift the lid and make sure that it doesn’t burn. It takes much effort. It is written that you should not use any base, but only flour strewn over the butter.
Both use the juice of herbs, mainly sage, to colour and flavour a custard, with today’s recipe further accentuating the colour by using eggt whites only rather than whole eggs. Both are very sweet, a combination that is unusual to modern diners and recalls, if anything, cough drops. Recipe #50 with its assertive ginger and pepper probably had the more complex flavour, though the freedom to combine herbs given in #243 could be used to get creative. Incidentally, the text in #50 indicates that the recipe was taken from a written source that we cannot identify with certainty. Clearly, this was popular, though I struggle to understand why.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
Today, I can continue the colour tart sequence from Philippine Welser’s recipe collection:
242 To make a black tart
You must take eight, ten, twelve, or up to fourteen good pears according to whether they are large or small and roast them well on the embers so they are darkened (uberprennt). And so you do not roast them too strongly this way and burn them, it is necessary to thrust them into the glowing embers so they turn nicely soft. Similarly you must take good quinces that are entirely like the pears in their appearance ad roast them first over the embers and then in the embers to make them nicely soft. Quinces take much roasting because they are harder than pears. Once both quinces and pears are roasted so that they are fully soft, discard their outer skins and their cores and everything else that does not serve our purpose. Then take a seutel of milk, but it must not be full, barely half full, because the pears and quinces for this (recipe) are juicy in themselves. (Also take) nine eggs with their whites and yolks as they are, and also a seutel of sugar, rather more than less, you must never stint on this. Also diligently pound half a pound of almonds and have a good and proper care that no bad (henndige) one is among them. Pass all of this through a sieve with the milk, then add cinnamon, cloves, pepper, ginger, and equally nutmeg, added according to occasion and need. It is (further) made as described above with a dough so thin it looks like paper, and also a topping made of rosewater, egg whites, and sugar on top, this tart will be good.
This is clearly based on the same principle as the white tart, with the primary appeal being colour variation. I cannot envision the result being black unless you burned the pears and quinces quite badly, which you are expressly told not to do. I would expect it to come out a greenish brown, but still a clear contrast to the white of egg whites, almonds, rice, and milk. In terms of flavour, it will probably be closer to what we expect of a pumpkin pie than any pear or quince tart we are familiar with. Of course, our pumpkin pie recipes are not a lot like those of the sixteenth century, including one in the same collection (#43). However, the technique of combining cooked fruit with eggs, milk, sugar, and spices to make a solid filling was widely applied to other ingredients, as it is here. If you try to reconstruct this, please remember that the pears used at the time would not have been dessert pears, but cooking pears which were both smaller and much harder and drier. Using modern pears will likely result in a soggy mess unless you reduce the proportion of milk.
One very interesting point here is the instruction to take a seutel of milk, but have it barely half full. This suggests that the seutel is indeed a convenient vessel, not a measure of capacity. This, in turn, locates these recipes in a specific place where these drinking vessels were on hand. It is likely that the long recipes towards the end of the book were added later, quite possibly in Tyrol, so it might be worth looking into common drinking vessels there.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
The recipe for a white custard tart in Philippine Welser’s collection has a companion that refers back to it. Here they are side by side:
A sugar and egg white crust atop an almond tart based on a 1598 recipe – similar to the one described here
240 How to make good tarts in several ways
To make white tarts
Firstly, you must take a Seutel (liquid measure and drinking vessel), as the Seutln are customary in this country) of the whites of eggs, one Seutel of sugar, half a Libertzen (pound) of good almonds that are most carefully and finely pounded, and also a Seutel of good milk. Pass the prepared ingredients through a sieve all together with the milk. Then make a dough of flour, sugar, and rosewater. Grease the pan with fat beforehand to prevent it burning. Make the dough as thin as paper, lay it over the pan, and place the tart or rather the abovementioned ingredients on it. Put an edge (Reuffelin) on it above all sprinkle rosewater on the tart. Beaten egg white is spread on it with a small feather, and finally sugar is sprinkled on, never stint the latter. Cover the pan and the tart diligently with a covering (überleg) and set coals above it as is needed. That way, the rosewater, egg white, and sugar will harden and draw together like a crust and the tart will be as good as marzipan.
241 To make another white tart
At the beginning, take a Putschen (pitcher) of good milk, the best that can be had, add rice according to the size and occasion of the tart, and cook the two together. But see the rice does not cook too dry. Then take a seutel of egg whites, one of sugar, and one pound of good almonds, and no more milk that is needed to pass the abovementioned ingredients through a sieve. If you make this kind of tart with a dough and edge made with rosewater, egg whites, and sugar prepared and finished exactly as is described above and above all do not stint the sugar, it will be a good tart.
Despite being quite similar in many respects, these tarts would produce a very different texture and eating experience. The fact they are both given the same name suggests that the “white” tart was a broad class. It is possible that the egg white custard of the first recipe is the ‘original’ while the rice filling of the second represents a way of making economies, though at a high level. I think it is more likely that they are variations on a theme. Like a modern hamburger or pancake, a ‘white tart’ could be many things.
Both recipes are detailed, but not easy to reconstruct with full confidence. Among the things I do not know is the quantity of a Seutel or a Putschen. The seidel is usually a drinking vessel, so we are not looking at very large containers, the Putschen a vessel for serving drinks to pour out at the table, thus likely to be larger. It seems likely to me that neither refers to a formal measure. We also do not know which pound measure the recipe refers to, though that is less problematic given the variety was not extreme.
As to the crust, we know almost nothing about it. The dough involves rosewater and a thin base of just flour and rosewater, like phyllo dough, is possible. It certainly cannot have been a short crust given it is meant to be rolled out thin ‘as paper’ (which even using sixteenth-century linen paper as a basis of comparison would be quite thin). The top layer is interesting in its own light; It sounds like an ancestral form of meringue. The sugar, egg whites, and rosewater are all supposed to be spread separately and fused during baking. Similar sixteenth-century recipes give instructions to mix sugar and egg whites before baking, though, and they are likely of one family.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
I am back to my recipes and will be posting two related ones today to make up for the fact I will probably not be sharing one tomorrow – I expect the day to be quite long. From the collection of Philippine Welser, following the fish galantine with its detailed instructions:
216 To make a meat galantine (flesch schultz)
Set the meat to cook in wine and add a little water to it. When you have scummed it, colour it yellow so the meat turns nicely yellow. When the meat is boiled, wash it clean and let it boil again. Afterwards, spice and sugar the broth, but strain it through a cloth before you season it so it is nice and clear. Blow away (remove) the fat on it. Scatter raisins, cinnamon, and ginger in the bowl and put the meat on it. Pour on the broth or (and?) stick almonds into it. Set the bowl in horse dung so it gels in summer.
217 To make a pork galantine (schweinen sultz)
Take a suckling pig or veal or some other pork, but especially a (piece?) of a sow, that is best. Parboil it a little in water, then add wine and vinegar, but not too much so it does not become too sour, and let it boil in that. Season it with saffron, pepper, and whole cinnamon, and put in sugar (to make it) as sweet as you want to have it. Let it boil together. Cover (bese) the bowl (with raisins and spices) and lay the meat on that. Let the broth become clear and pour it over the meat. Stick almonds in it and let it gel.
This is basically the same dish described for fish, so many of the instructions for adding the gelling agent and clarifying the broth do not need to be repeated. The end result is a bowl whose bottom is covered in dried fruit and spices, with pieces of meat encased in a translucent aspic whose surface is decorated with almonds, most likely individual blanched kernels stuck into the jelly in decorative patterns. Dishes like thesewere fashionable, often creatively elaborated, and surviving recipes describe many methods that are supposed to ensure it will gel. This must have been a major concern in the age before artificial refrigeration.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
I am headed for a medieval feast with my lady this weekend, so you will have to make do with this recipe over the next few days. It is nice and long, though, from the collection of Philippine Welser:
213 Hereafter follow of several galantines
If you want to make fish in galantine, for two dishes:
One half pound of almonds, a fierdung of raisins, one half pound of sugar, one lott of saffron, 2 laydt of cinnamon, one laydt of isinglass
If you want to have it good, do not add grains of paradise. First, scatter cinnamon, raisins, and mace over the bowl, (but) not too much. When you want to lay in the fish, you should lay in a finger’s length of cinnamon (first). With the abovementioned ingredients, I had fish as follows:
5 pounds of carps, 3 pounds of pike, 3 mas of rain fal (Ribolla gialla wine), If you do not have rain fal, you use another kind of strong and good wine, 2 mas of Italian wine (welschwein), 1 mas of old wine
You boil the scales and the isinglass in this. Then you take the Italian and the ronfal (Ribolla gialla) wine and put it over the fire. When it boils, pour it over the fish and when the fish is scummed, add half the abovementioned saffron. When the fish is boiled, lay them on a cloth and strain the cooking liquid through a cloth. Spoon off the fat cleanly and press out the scales and isinglass that were boiled through a cloth into a separate dish. Also separated out the fat cleanly and put it into the remaining broth together with the saffron and other spices, except for the ginger. Add the ginger last so it does not become too spicy and the cinnamon dominates the taste (fir schlagen). If you want it to be brighter (layder), add elecampagne (alet). If it does not readily gel, add peas and let them boil with the fish. If you want to put an entire pike’s head into the bowl, have it cut off entirely and two finger’s (worth of fish) should stay attached to it. Before you pour the galantine, you should break the head off from the backbone and set it in the middle. Spread it out (i.e. the gills) with two skewers of wood so it does not fall over. Then take the stomach and roll it well on bran and beat it well (struck through: auf den grind) with a wooden bat before so it becomes thin and spreads out. Then wash it cleanly and turn it inside out, and take flesh of the pike and the greens of the parsley, chop it small and together, and when it is chopped small, stir in a little fine white flour (semel mel) and raisins. Spice it with pepper, then fill the stomach, but do not fill it very full because it becomes shorter and tighter when it boils, and if you fill it too full, it will burst open. When you want to boil the sausage, set it by the fire in water beforehand, and when it begins to boil, prick it with a needle, otherwise it will break open. Only when it is half boiled do you put in the pike, and when the fish is scummed, lay the sausage in with the pike and boil it well because it must boil long.
215 Another galantine (sultz) to make for one and a half dishes
Take one half pound of almonds, a fierdung of raisins, and a fierdung of sugar, 1 laydt of saffron, 1 laidt of ginger, 1 laidt of cinnamon, 1 layt of isinglass, Take 5 pounds of carp for this, and 3 pounds of pike, 2 mas of ron fal (Ribolla gialla wine), 2 mas of Italian wine, 1 mas of old wine, 1 spoonful of saffron, ginger and cinnamon.
Also let this (the spices) boil with the fish.
These are very detailed instructions by any standard, and the format of providing ingredient lists with quantities is highly unusual in sixteenth-century culinary recipes (though common in medicinal ones). It is also interesting in using the first person and may very well be an ego-document of the book’s owner, a recipe not just for but by Philippine Welser.
The dish is a fairly common one: cooked fish served in a translucent jelly. Here, of course, the most expensive wines, large quantities of spices, and the finest fish are used, but the principle is the same we can still find as Hering in Gelee in any North German supermarket. It is problematic that the recipe uses lot and laidt side by side; these are dialectal variants of the same word, but in the same text, they may refer to different units, possibly trade versus apothecary weight. Usually, a Lot is 1/32 of a pound, roughly 15 grammes.
Beyond that, the dish is artful and complicated, and we can reconstruct it fairly well from the detailed instructions for degreasing and clearing the broth, dissolving the gelatin, and displaying the head. It would not look very enticing to modern eaters, though. Complex jellies were highly esteemed at the time.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
It’s been a long day, so I’ll only be able to post a short recipe today. Once again, from the collection of Philippine Welser:
221 Lamb meat in a soup
Let the meat boil. Take 3 spoonfuls of the broth and 1 spoonful of vinegar, put that broth into a pan and let it cool. Beat 20 eggs into it, season it with saffron, pepper, and ginger, pass it through a cloth, then set it over coals and stir it until it develops foam. Put the meat into a bowl and pour the soup over it.
This is a plain, straightforward recipe, though still a luxurious one. Using plenty of eggs and costly lamb distinguishes it more than the spices by the 1550s. My reading is as bite-sized meat chunks served in a spicy sauce, though of course we are told nowhere how the meat is cut. It could be entire legs sliced at the table. The sauce is simple – broth and vinegar, thickened with eggs and seasoned with sharp spices. It sounds quite attractive served with a good bread.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
Today, it’s another short recipe from the collection of Philippine Welser:
240 How to make good tarts in several ways
To make white tarts
Firstly, you must take a Seutel (liquid measure and drinking vessel), as the Seutln are customary in this country) of the whites of eggs, one Seutel of sugar, half a Libertzen (pound) of good almonds that are most carefully and finely pounded, and also a Seutel of good milk. Pass the prepared ingredients through a sieve all together with the milk. Then make a dough of flour, sugar, and rosewater. Grease the pan with fat beforehand to prevent it burning. Make the dough as thin as paper, lay it over the pan, and place the tart or rather the abovementioned ingredients on it. Put an edge (Reuffelin) on it above all sprinkle rosewater on the tart. Beaten egg white is spread on it with a small feather, and finally sugar is sprinkled on, never stint the latter. Cover the pan and the tart diligently with a covering (überleg) and set coals above it as is needed. That way, the rosewater, egg white, and sugar will harden and draw together like a crust and the tart will be as good as marzipan.
Whiteness was a desired quality in fashionable foods, so this tart is particularly distinguished by that and, secondarily, by being sweet. Beyond that, I am not entirely clear on how it is supposed to work, but it sounds as though a custard based on egg whites is overlaid with a kind of meringue topping. For greater certainty, I would need to experiment with the recipe practically.
Among the things I do not know is the quantity of a Seutel. The seidel is usually a drinking vessel, so we are not looking at very large containers, but beyond that it is a matter of guessing at this point. A second point of uncertainty is whether the almonds are supposed to be passed through the cloth – remain in the liquid as a fine powder – or strained out, leaving only the oil and flavour. The resulting mixes could be very different.
There are, however, some very interesting points made here. A tart base made as thin ‘as paper’ (which even using sixteenth-century linen paper as a basis of comparison would be quite thin), a separate decorative edge added afterwards, and of course the topping. Adding sugar, rosewater, and beaten egg white separately rather than combined looks odd to modern eyes, but it just could work. We know similar techniques used with marzipans and almond tarts.
Clearly, the point to this recipe is a display of wealth – almonds, sugar, and a large number of eggs – and skill – the precise temperature control that would be needed for the tart to come out credibly ‘white’ from a baking dish. It isn’t likely to have a very exciting taste, but will surely be sweet, soft, and rich, much as the owner of the book was expected to be.
Philippine Welser (1527-1580), a member of the prominent and extremely wealthy Welser banking family of Augsburg, was a famous beauty of her day. Scandalously, she secretly married Archduke Ferdinand II of Habsburg in 1557 and followed him first to Bohemia, then to Tyrol. A number of manuscripts are associated with her, most famously a collection of medicinal recipes and one of mainly culinary ones. The recipe collection, addressed as her Kochbuch in German, was most likely produced around 1550 when she was a young woman in Augsburg. It may have been made at the request of her mother and was written by an experienced scribe. Some later additions, though, are in Philippine Welser’s own hand, suggesting she used it.
The manuscript is currently held in the library of Ambras Castle near Innsbruck as PA 1473 and was edited by Gerold Hayer as Das Kochbuch der Philippine Welser (Innsbruck 1983).
