A propos of yesterday’s post of how to cook porpoises, these are more practical instructions from Maino de Maineri’s opusculum de saporibus:
…About fish one must know that the grosser of flesh, the harder to digest and of greater superfluity and humoral nature (i.e. the more out of balance) they are, the more they need hotter and sharper condiments. And this is true not only for fish, but also for meat. From this follows that ‘bestial’ (animal-like) fish and especially the porpoise (lit. sea pig, porcus marinus), whether roasted or boiled, need hotter and sharper sauces. And this is similarly understood for other fish according to how much or little they resemble the porpoise.
The condiment that is appropriate for the porpoise is strong boiled black pepper sauce whose composition is to be of of black pepper and cloves and toasted bread soaked in vinegar, and mixed with broth of fish.
And if one should wish to preserve them for several days, a galantine is made whose composition is: Take cinnamon, galingale, and cloves and mix each two m. (unit of weight), (and) toasted bread, half a loaf worth two imperials (unit of currency). The bread has boiled wine vinegar poured over it. Thus galantine is made with the cooking liquid of water and wine used for the fish. And the fish are cooked in water and wine, and the galantine is to be sufficient for ten people.
While the anonymous author(s) of the Dorotheenkloster MS most likely described their porpoise dishes based on hearsay, it is likely that Maino de Maineri, a highly reputed Italian physician who wrote in the mid-14th century, had personal experience to go on. Porpoises were eaten in the Mediterranean, along with a wide variety of other sea fish. His medical advice concerns the condiments to serve them with.
The author clearly recognises the mammalian (“bestial”) nature of the porpoise, though this does not lead him to place it outside the class of fish. Rather, it represents one end of the spectrum within that class and, being so much like meat, requires spicy sauces. The one he recommends is actually a familiar one to German recipe readers – pfeffer, a highly seasoned sauce made with the cooking liquid and thickened with toasted bread. The powerful taste of black pepper and cloves heightened by vinegar was thought to counteract the cold and moist qualities of the porpoise.
The second recipe is harder to parse, but it seems to describe a galantine of the bread-thickened type. Here, a thick sauce is poured over cooked meat or fish to exclude the air as it congeals, preserving it for a short time. Seasoned with cinnamon, galanga, and cloves, it would impart a characteristic flavour to the meat.
This is clearly not the only way porpoises could be prepared. Maino de Maineri’s work is focused on sauces which were considered medically indicated with many foods, not the culinary possibilities of an ingredient. But here, we at least have an idea of what was done with those porpoises.