I like to put food in my
writing. People eat. Readers gain from characters’ choices in food, how they
respond to it, how they behave with others while they’re dining.
My novel The Crown is set in 1537-1538. Moreover,
much of the action takes place in a priory of Dominican nuns. In other words,
simple meals, very little meat, when the sisters are not actually fasting.
But I didn’t want
this to deter me from using food as a revelatory, if not sensual, part of my
writing.
In the first part of the
book, my protagonist Sister Joanna Stafford is arrested at Smithfield for
interfering with the king’s justice. She’s taken to the Tower of London and
confined in a small cell for five months. The man who frees her is Bishop
Stephen Gardiner, but there’s a price. She must return to her priory on a
secret—and very dangerous—quest, one that may betray the prioress and other
nuns she respects. To force her to do his will, the bishop will keep her
father, Sir Richard Stafford, imprisoned in the Tower. He has already been
tortured once; Sister Joanna has no choice but to agree.
In Chapter 15, Sister Joanna
finally leaves the Tower, in the company of two Dominican friars, Brother Edmund and Brother Richard, that Bishop
Gardiner has ordered to go the priory as well, both of them with mysterious
agendas. Before the three of them depart, they’re served a meal. Joanna is
exhausted and frightened and angry but she’s undeniably hungry too.
From the book:
“Bess laid out food:
platters of meat tiles, strips of dried cod, and bread. The rich smell of the
tiles—made of chicken, crawfish tail and almonds—filled the room. Brother
Richard fell on it as if it were the first meal he’d consumed in days, while
Brother Edmund ate little.
“Bess looked around to make
sure no one was watching her, and flashed me an excited smile. To her, this
must be joyous news—not only was I being released but I was also restored to my
former life. I wondered what she’d think if she knew I’d be betraying a
prioress’s trust.
“But wait—when had I agreed
to anything?
“My thoughts churning, I
sipped the warm spiced wine Bess had poured and ate a piece of meat tile—I
hadn’t tasted anything like this in many months. We had meat only on feast days
at Dartford, and then it was meat pudding.”
And so I used the dish of meat tile to
symbolize Sister Joanna’s feelings about leaving the Tower and returning to her
priory and being drawn into the power—and the possible temptation--of these new
forces.
To talk more about meat
tile, it was made of pieces of chicken or veal, simmered, sautéed, served in a spiced sauce of pounded crayfish tails, almonds roasted and toasted bread and garnished with whole crayfish tails. When royalty, noble or wealthy-merchant families dined, there were many courses, a stunning number to our eyes.
Tudorhistory.org has kindly
permitted me to share a menu from a 15th century wealthy French
household:
THE MENU
FIRST
COURSE
Miniature pastries filled either with cod liver or beef
marrow
A cameline meat "brewet" (pieces of meat in a
thin cinnamon sauce)
Beef marrow fritters
Eels in a thick spicy puree
Loach in a cold green sauce flavored with spices and sage
Large cuts of roast or boiled meat
Saltwater fish
SECOND COURSE
Freshwater fish
Broth with bacon
A meat tile
Capon pasties and crisps
Bream and eel pasties
Blang Mang
THIRD COURSE
Frumenty
Venison
Lampreys with hot sauce
Fritters
Roast bream and darioles
Sturgeon
Jellies
After the meal would come the sweets and confections, then
maybe some spiced wine or even whole spices, which were thought to aid in
digestion.
I am looking for some of the medieval recipes. Where can I find them? I would like to host a medieval dinner.
ReplyDeleteSpecific ceramic floor best tile saws on the market are still good within good quality as well as durability as well as can occasionally be found in a little distinct colours as well as textures with their porcelain counterparts.
ReplyDeleteStill don’t understand what a meat tile is
ReplyDelete