abendgules: (maciejowski)
Getting anywhere on a bank holiday weekend is a nightmare. How did I manage to forget? blocked out more like.

It took 3 hrs to reach House Pologrinus on the south side - more than 2x the usual journey time. I was very very close to turning round to go home from Farringdon stn (2 hrs into the trip) when the train arrived. I hate travel on long weekends.

However, upon arrival matters improved: I was visiting to take part in this year's apple pressing towards cider-making. After guzzling Vitus' cider last year I told him to sign me up for pressing next year.

Sure enough: 250kg of apples, just from friends' backyard trees. At least 3 different varieties, plus a selection of pears too.

Apple pressing is a lot of fun. Doing nearly 6 hrs straight of apple prep is less so.

Child labour: this didn't last, but was a help while it was there. Washing apples before quartering and checking for worms.


Ozbeg grinding apples (2x through) as Vitus adjusts the press.


Very, very glad of 2 burly men to crank the grinder and the press - possibly harder than it's typically worked, to squeeze every drop out.

Kat, Isabel, Ozbeg and I were fully occupied washing, quartering and (sometimes) grinding apples, loading crushed apple into the press, and unloading post-crush mush to the composters. The composter full, we just piled it in the yard. We got a lot of wasp attention, but it was benign compared to the wasps at Raglan this year.

The juice we got was a nice middle sweet flavour, not sugary sweet like my memory of fresh pressed sweet cider from Ontario. V judged it'll give a 6% cider, and we pressed out 100L of juice into 4 containers. He set it to ferment with champagne yeast, warmed and 'started' for a few hours first.

V doesn't do anything by halves...

He fed us with homemade scones w butter and jam, and then homemade pizza made on the BBQ (lacking a pizza oven).

This was also the weekend to say goodbye to HG Daille and the kids, while Sir Jonothan stays another few weeks til after Michaelmas.

Vitus & Isabel are planning on Estrella war next year and it sounds like a household push is on.

After the morning's mess of commuting I was very grateful of a list back to the city with Kat and Ozbeg.
abendgules: (Mountjoy)
When it wasn't pouring down over Easter weekend, it was lovely.

And happily I spent one whole day, when it was beautiful out, in Wokingham with Earl Paul and Lady Anne. They'd made time for me in their weekend when I told them I was on my own at Easter while Robert was away slaying orcs.

I love visiting with them; we can putter together, browse through books, and they eat like kings (or like a lady and earl) all the time - it's not a special occasion, it's just how they choose to shop, cook and eat. I always feel spoiled when I'm at their house.

Their days are full of plans right now; they've found the perfect house, but in order to buy it they have to wait for the seller to find somewhere to move to - this is part of the Great English Tradition of House Buying: The Chain, whereby everyone is waiting for someone else's house buy to go through.

Their buyer is of course waiting on them in turn...

Oddly I never remember this happening in my first homeland. If you end up stuck with 2 houses because someone's deal falls through, tough - make an appointment with your bank. Sheesh.

So right now, the plans are still talk and paper ideas, for changes to the new place. But my goodness, if it goes through, it'll be glorious, glorious indeed.

At any rate - we breezed through Waitrose, their local library (a *really* nice one - a reflection of the neighbourhood I think) and then a cuppa before going for an Easter walk in what Anne called the bluebell wood.

I could see why: it was gloriously full of bluebells, just before their peak but still wonderfully blue-bell-ish, that not-quite-purple, not-quite-blue shade that defies paint chips.

We walked about for a couple of hours, chatting and taking the air. Other walkers and cyclists were out for the same reason.

Back to the house for a late lunch, and for Paul to put on a roast dinner while Anne and I sewed.

She's working full tilt on a new doublet for Paul - full Elizabethan with all the twiddles, with quilted lining and crazy trim plans. She was complaining she didn't have enough embroidery floss for the buttons because wood-core thread buttons just eat floss for breakfast.

I used the afternoon for UFOs.

I finished a couple of knitted 16th c hats - they're now fulled and their brims are as firm as they'll get.

Anne has asked me to make her one! so I'm pricing Shetland yarn towards making some 16th c flat caps and hats. I'll have to pay attention to the shrinkage and fulling, not just take my chances. You take pains for others you wouldn't bother with for yourself!

I also, rashly, offered to knit Paul a jumper; he complains he just can't find big colourful jumpers (aka sweaters) anymore. On the strength of this I've ordered a couple of (used) Kaffe Fassett books, for, ah, research purposes.

Ah, the 80s...

I don't expect to make one exactly as shown, but will bring them along and ask him if he has any preference, and exactly what his yarn budget is(!).

In the evening I also took apart one fabric hat that goes with my 16th c German gown, in the hopes of redoing it so it fits properly, with a brim that is firm but not rigid. I didn't have the heart to take it apart right after making it, even though it didn't fit, because I'd put so much work into it in the first place, and it's just sat there.

Frankly, knitting hats is waaaaaay easier - but I have to find the ideal Goldilocks brim solution for them. My cardboard seems either too soft or too hard.

Anne whipped up the gravy for the roast chicken, using some real verjuice we'd found in the market near our old place; real actual verjuice, from sour grapes, not crabapples. It made the most amazing gravy ever.

I slept like a rock. It was lovely.

The trip home was long - missed the right train, had to change, was delayed, people were jerks on the Tube. Fortunately I had a very attentive kitteh at the other end of the trip, or else I might not have left Wokingham.
abendgules: (kittysnail)
Robert cooked venison with juniper berries on Saturday, and stretched it to Sunday dinner.

For Sunday lunch we went to The Powderkeg, an amazing foodie pub near Clapham Junction, with Nasr and Eleanor. It was extraordinary - absolutely the most attentive and friendly service I've ever had in England, and excellent food and drink.

I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys good food and beer (or wine) and the playful 'ironic colonial' look.

Otherwise, I'm head-down, Trying to Finish it All(tm) before 20-year.
abendgules: (kittysnail)
I'm working towards a real Saturday candy setup at home.

I've eaten all the fresh biscuits from the bakery. That's helpful, isn't it? Now they won't go stale. The store-bought biscuits can stay in the cupboard out of sight, for the sweetie.

I've avoided the biscuit tin at work, in favour of almonds and apricots.

I'm drinking smaller servings of juice, halving the squash syrup I use, and won't replace the squash after the supply runs out. (I'm a big fan of squash, in place of iced tea mix. The English don't use powdered drink mix, but prefer syrups.) Will try to replace juice with real fruit, but this will take more prep.

To replace squash I'll need more interesting teas for iced tea, I think. Drinking only water, tea, coffee and beer would be a bit dull. Any suggestions?

I'm trying to add less sugar to my morning coffee (1 cup/day only) and I don't add sugar to tea anyway.

Re [livejournal.com profile] aryanhwy's remark about designating a weekday as candyday: for events, I think I'm allowed to eat whatever's served at the event. It may include sweets, sweet cordials, etc. it may not. We'll see how it works out. Even as an active event goer, I spend more weekends at home than at events.
abendgules: (hot choc comfort)
Thanks to several months of enforced inactivity, I'm feeling uncomfortably round, and had an unpleasant encounter with a measuring tape recently.

So I'm resolved to get out of the office at lunchtime more often for walks - daily isn't too often - and I'm considering drastic measures, for me: Saturday Candy.

I encountered this at Crown this year in Nordmark - that some good Swedish parents still limit their kids' intake of junk to Saturdays. I'd never heard of something so, so, so....sensible. Sheesh. (Especially when the Western world is staring an obesity epidemic down the gullet - how do the Swedes manage it, when everyone else is so helpless?)

So I'm seriously thinking: I don't eat a lot of candy, but I do like biscuits, particularly at work. I do like a sweet to follow dinner, of some kind. And I don't know if I can follow through, when my beanpole-shaped-sweetie noshes down on his treats in the evening. Could I actually follow a Saturday Candy rule?

(I'm painfully suggestible, I've discovered. Don't remember this always being the case, but by god, if I'm reading about someone enjoying a pot of coffee, all of a sudden nothing short of a pot of coffee will do...similarly when someone says 'I'd love a cup of tea' on TV, etc.)

I was put in mind of it (see? suggestible) by a BBC food article about a family giving up sugar because of a daughter's Type 1 diabetes.

I know a few people who avoid sugar, but why would you substitute dextrose for sucrose (shown in one recipe)? It all turns into sugar in your body, doesn't it?
abendgules: (self-portrait)
This week it seems the weather has turned, finally, towards spring. Not a moment too soon. I saw shorts, shortsleeves, sandals and sunglasses en masse yesterday on my trip home.

Even better: my Triscuits arrived from my friend [livejournal.com profile] hayleygreen, promised on their last visit, but had to go in the mail. They're now quite well travelled, but still intact. Since I can't find them here, they remain one of my few treats from Canada that I miss. (Yes, maple syrup is very fine too, but I can eat a lot more Triscuits than maple syrup...)

So my international breakfast today was freetrade coffee, Canadian triscuits with Estonian cheese rolled in smoked paprika, and Bombay spread (the latter is a rather weird 'pickle' of coriander, mint and green chilies, and is bright green).
abendgules: (Default)
Alaric and Nerissa had Robert and me over for dinner this past Friday - Alaric had offered, as a celebration of my Pelican elevation, to make the meal of my choice, with my choice of guests, just as he'd done for Robert's peerage.

Since Alaric's speciality is Roman cooking, I suggested a meal out of Apicius and on my last visit I'd picked out a menu - which had promptly gone right out of my head, so the dishes were a happy surprise when we arrived. 

I invited [livejournal.com profile] thorngrove as another Roman foodie who'd enjoy it, and [livejournal.com profile] exmoor_cat and [livejournal.com profile] zmiya_san too - people who liked yummy food, and were core to the shire. I'd invited [livejournal.com profile] goncalves too, but his car repairs ate his train ticket, which was a bummer.

So Friday was the appointed day, and Alaric and [livejournal.com profile] thorngrove had been hard at the prep and work in the kitchen for hours before we arrived.

Reading through Apicius in advance, I found that the core ingredients for flavouring were garum or liquamen (the famed fish sauce in different forms, either 'raw' or enzyme-cooked), salt, wine (or cooked-down wine, in varying proportions) and honey. It was hard to find a recipe that didn't have these core items in some quantity.

Menu was as follows:

Wine for travellers - honey-enriched wine.

There was a pitcher of mulsum (sweetened wine reduced by between 1/4 and 1/3 in volume) on the table, for cutting with either regular wine, or water, or both.

Semolina porridge - I can't find the recipe for it, but it was semolina, cheese and possibly milk, intended to be drunk in a pass-glass. We each had a dollop on our plates, lacking a glass to share. It was intended as a starter, and some form of porridge was the staple of the Romans, before they developed a taste for bread baked with (imported) wheat.

I think it served the crackers-and-cheese role in the meal, though we ate it at the table. (We ate at the table, since A&N don't have the requisite banqueting room, and slaves to wait on us. Yes, we're barbarians....)

Pine-nut and honey pancakes - these were incredibly rich, made with the better part of a kilo of pine-nuts. They're one of Nerissa's favourites. Pine-nuts and chopped nuts, with honey, pepper, liquamen, milk and eggs, cooked in a little oil.

Patina of peas, and a chick-pea and leek frumenty - the 'patina' refers to a dish reminiscent of a frittata: a bunch of ingredients, held together with eggs in a deep dish. In this case, the peas were really broad beans, and after cooking Alaric broke eggs over them and cooked the whole open dish in the oven.

The chickpeas, leek and onion frumenty was wonderfully rich.

Tuna with a wine and raisin sauce. The raisins soaked up all the flavour of the sauce, but were unbelieveably sweet.

Parboiled then pan-roasted chicken with a topping of pine-nut sauce, again very sweet. Alaric noted that if he'd done this on the craticula (the Roman portable BBQ/stove, bit like a hibatchi on steroids) it would have had a more smoky flavour. I could only manage a taste of it, as I was getting dangerously full.

Peaches poached in wine and cumin. This was perhaps the dish that prompted the most varied reactions - I thought it was brilliant, G and A both ate theirs, and [livejournal.com profile] thorngrove couldn't stand them. It was the cumin combined with the peaches that was so distinctive, and there seemed little middle ground in opinion.

Lordy we were stuffed - we were stuffed halfway through, experienced feast-eaters all, and we still had to find room to taste everything. It was extraordinary.

My overall impression was of richness and sweetness; I don't think I've had such a combination of dishes that were cumulatively so sweet. I like biscuits and sweets like the average person, but I don't think I could live with quite so much honey all the time - though of course this wasn't everyday food, I don't think.

Alaric looked happy as a pig in mire feeding people to the gills, and we got to hear a bit about G and A's trip to the far east for a recent wedding.

abendgules: (Confesse)
It felt like a boozy weekend:

Friday drinks to mark the departure of a colleague,

Saturday revel (1/2 bottle of watered wine, which caught up with me the next day)

and then a splendid Kerala Indian meal with [livejournal.com profile] armillary and Sorcha with more yummy wine, to celebrate their impending wedding. It was rather refreshing to have modern food with Society friends, in modern clothes. :-) I now have to look up Kerala cooking - I know I've had it before, in Ottawa. It features dosas prominently, and lots of fish and coconut dishes.

The revel was a rousing success - Robert outlined the basics of pewter casting, and the first 9 attendees got to tackle their own flat-faced lump of bone-dry plaster of Paris (advanced soapstone or mudstone substitute) with sharpened nails and assorted files.  

Since Robert made his own first pieces with a Swiss army knife and pieces of hardened wire, he doesn't see why you need anything fancier for your first attempt. 

Lots more folks turned up, but there wasn't enough plaster blocks to go round - the second platter of plaster was still damp, and damp 'stone' and liquid metal don't mix.

What really caught peoples' attention, of course, was watching the liquid metal - Robert had brought a portable butane heater and melted pewter to test the moulds, and shortly had an audience. There's something magical about watching it - pouring like mercury - and then hardening in a snap. I'd seen the same draw at the Fettered Cock, but I've grown used to the spectacle, and now take it for granted, where this fresh audience was un-jaded.

And, of course, having it work - it's very cool getting a result, and almost everyone did, if not exactly what they'd hoped for - but it was a far better result  for most than I'd expected, because I know how long it can take to get a mould right. 

Our revel feast was small but delicious, as always, and we have a series of dates and proposed themes to look forward to, hurrah.

I've finished Lev Grossman's sequel, 'The Magician King', and found it much, much darker than I'd anticipated - not suitable for the trigger-prone. I think I would have been happy reading 'The Magicians' alone, without the sequel, though the arc about one of the characters learning magic on her own (outside the 'conventional' stream of US-based magical-Eton-for-college-students) was brilliant.

I also love the idea that Venice is only staying afloat thanks to magical supports and props and without them it would plunge into the swamp.

Have now tried out 2? 3? Jim Butcher books in The Dresden Files, and while worth trying, I've decided not to persue him further. He just seems a bit too glib, and his magic seems to come easily, where Aaronovitch's characters (and Grossman's too) struggle bitterly to get even a toehold into magical practice - suits my view of what magic should be like: freakin' hard, or else we'd all do it to avoid housework.

In another vein, greatly enjoyed 'This is not a game' by Walter Jon Williams. Brilliant take on what happens when you create live-action games for a living; will work for you if you liked Rule 34, or Halting State, by Charles Stross.

Ahem - take care googling for 'rule 34' as it appears some websites have taken the rule to heart...

Will post about the visit to the Guildhall gallery next time!
abendgules: (abbey_cats)
Renaming tiger bread 'giraffe bread' at Sainsbury's.
abendgules: (15thc_worker)
 Last weekend at Tretower court, camping with his Majesty and his family, served as an excellent shakedown trip, to remind us both of how we assemble camping kit, what bits we're likely to forget, and how thankful we are that our stakes are made of foot-long lengths of steel rebar, rather than authentic wooden pegs. Pegs lovely, yes, but not nearly as secure as rebar.

The high winds on the weekend still knocked down the awning on Sir Vitus' tent, but the rest remained secure (with some remedial pounding-in after 2am), and only a single candlestick suffered from the collapse. AND, fortunately, no pavilion came down completely.

Thanks to the weather, it wasn't as restful an event as it could have been, but it was still excellent. Some highlights:

- taking part in the court to elevate [livejournal.com profile] goncalves  to the Order of the Dragon's Steel, before a home crowd of friends

- witnessing [livejournal.com profile] nusbacher  being made a Herald Extraordinary by Schwazdrachen's hand, with the title Sans Merci. She had the steel, while offering her homage to the king, to ask for a wage for this honour(!), putting His Majesty somewhat on the spot, but agreed to a settlement to be hammered out in due course.

- trying out Cut and Thrust with his highness Cernac - it was a great learning weekend for me, for [livejournal.com profile] maredudd1066  and also for Don Domin, one of the recent arrivals in the kingdom. Maredudd was dancing up and down - C&T is the Goldilocks combat for him, just right for his frame, and fits well with previous combat training.
Domin's former homeland in Outlands holds no great fondness for C&T, and had resisted it for a long time, so this was his first time to try it out in earnest with Cernac and Duarte, which was a delight to watch. 

It was really brilliant to see experienced fencers working through their familiar carefully-learned moves with the added bonus of percussive cuts - they all looked right, like something out of a cross-period 15th-16th century manual, and were clearly like pigs in the mire, enjoying themselves enormously. 

On Sunday morning, we practiced in one of the upstairs chambers at Tretower, which was a long gallery lit by windows set deep in the walls - it was like a beautiful fencing salon. Fabulous.  Hopefully some of Domin's pics to follow.

- And of course, the centrepiece was the feast, served by [livejournal.com profile] jpgsawyer  and [livejournal.com profile] edith_hedingham  - 15th c feast, in a 15th c furnished hall. Everyone had clearly read the etiquette book and made an all-out effort to meet the standard - napkin on one shoulder, serving by order of precedence, taking food with the left hand, eating with the right hand. It was very cool and there was not one single bottle or can on a single table - everything looked right.

In the crash space hall, [livejournal.com profile] sharikkamur  did extraordinary service in providing breakfast for the masses, including cooked breakfast and waffles (NOM NOM NOM). Knowing that it was essentially only a tea-kitchen, I think she was mad to offer, and I think by the end of the weekend, she knew she was mad too, but the atmosphere in the hall was very cheery and convivial, which was wonderful.

There are two more revels planned at Tretower for this year, and they can only get better.
abendgules: (catching snowflakes)

In the principality of Ealdormere there was at one time the canton of Monadh, the 'retirement home' of the region. The locals joined as grownups, rather than students, and were keen on making things; at Pennsic, you could find most of the canton sitting around their dining table in the afternoons, working on their respective projects. So 'craft hour at Monadh' was where you'd find the crafty folk working companionably together on leather, metal, jewelry, and needlework.

Polderslot events are a bit like Monadh craft hour. It's the biggest group of people making medieval stuff I've ever encountered, who consider several hours sitting together Creating Stuff, either individually or with their families, time well spent. And every Polderslot event includes making something towards the event, and the activities are suitable for both adults and kids.
part the second )

abendgules: (prickly)

I have a question for relatively recent parents: When you were learning to care for a baby, did someone warn you not to feed a baby honey?

At my workplace, there's been 3 reports of infant botulism in 1 year - this is the main risk of feeding honey to a baby, even if it's pasteurised. Babies' guts apparently aren't developed enough to manage the bacteria in honey.

The GPs consider this common knowledge, and are a bit frustrated at having to remind folks of what they consider a totally avoidable risk to a potentially dangerous condition.

SO: did you know this, and told other parents? (As a non-parent, it's not obvious to me, but apparently it's even in the fine print on honey jar labels in the UK.)

Mostly curious as to what is common knowledge, in different circles.
abendgules: (Oooops)
I feel like a walking advert for the dangers of holiday overindulgence. I don't think I've eaten so many good meals and drunk so much wine in one week before - even counting Christmasses past.

Tuesday:
a wonderful home-cooked meal hosted by Nerissa and Alaric, attended by several friends, to celebrate Robert's elevation: bacon-wrapped prune appetiser ('like meat sweets') roast duck with cooked cherries and salad, and a fruity dessert with cream, washed down by two wines (one white that was a like a fizzy ice wine, very sweet).
Robert finally received the promised Pelican medallion from Master Terafan (delivered just a day or so too late, after N&A had left for University). It's not perfect - I can see why Terafan wasn't happy with it, as the enamel didn't work out quite as planned - but I still think it's lovely.

Thursday:
we hosted Sixtus Goetz , for a couple of days. He's a former Drachenwalder who hangs out on on the Armour Archive, and is now working in the Middle East. He's clearly starved of intelligent, non-work related conversation! and happily stood us a splendid rich meaty-and-beany keep-away-the-cold meal at the nearby Spanish restaurant. Laxeiro.
The restaurant is supervised by a very well fed long-haired white cat, apparently named Gilbert, who has his own Facebook account. The cat is more hip than I am.
In summer Gilbert sits outside on car roofs to sun himself and greet his public, but that evening we found him curled on a wicker bar chair.

Saturday
: After a morning visit with [livejournal.com profile] purplemermaid , Robert heads off to the annual East London Pig's Ear Festival, where I find him and [livejournal.com profile] nz_bookwyrm and Master Paul, cheerful if a bit wobbly, a few hours later. My own half of cider was a bit disappointing (drier than I like) but at the end of a festival there's less to choose from. Robert helps everyone soak up their beers with another hearty meal, rounded out by our Christmas present from Paul and Anne: pears in chocolate sauce!
Unfortunately, the jar they came in started leaking, so we had to make the best of it, and eat them right away. I felt like I was swimming in a pool of warm dark chocolate (Anne doesn't muck about with anything less than 70% cocoa), with only a couple of well-cooked pears to cling to!

Sunday: Afternoon at A&S with Ynes in her lovely S. London flat, then away with K&O to Sir Vitus' for an early Christmas dinner with his family. Quail's eggs and homemade mayo, homemade oxtail soup (very different from canned!), fish cannelloni, and roast duck (again! 2x in one week) with potatoes and veg, followed by mango lasagna and coconut custard - again supported by great goblets of wine, and a taste of Vitus' homemade cider (again, a bit dry for my taste).
Vitus and Glacie enjoy hosting, and have a lovely space near Hampton Court for BBQs and armoring weekends. Glacie is looking rather tired of being pregnant (wk 34), though.

Soup and salad for me for the rest of the week!
abendgules: (prickly)
Why?
Because McDonald's is packing it in and closing their franchises. It's too expensive to import all their ingredients.
The franchise owners are staying in the restaurant business, but are going to start serving non-imported food.
Frankly, I'd have thought they'd already be adapting to offer lutefisk chips or something... but I guess Iceland isn't India, where there's a big enough customer base to justify altering the menu.

Is there still BK or KFC? [livejournal.com profile] sharikkamur?
abendgules: (downhill)
My blood donation appointment was cancelled today, as my iron level is too low for donation, though still within normal range. Apparently I can't try to give blood again (even after an unsuccessful donation) for 4 months.
The nurse says I need more chocolate and red wine, to boost my iron levels. :-)
Hot dang!
'It's for my health!'
abendgules: (15thc_worker)
Robert and I are trekking to Mynydd Gwyn w/ Alaric and Nerissa this weekend.  We have our travel plan ok, but I'm a bit sketchy on the details of activities other than fighting.

MG folk: Should I bring my bodice and skirt to work on?
is there space to do crafty stuff?
Is it in medieval clothes all day, or just for feast? do we need feastgear?
Is there a Christmassy theme?
Where are we going anyway?? Help!
---------------------------------------------------------
So [livejournal.com profile] sandra_sk 's and other commenters' wisdom prevails - I'll keep the blue bodice and skirt blue, and just live with it.
My next(!) Tudor-ish outfit will be murrey.

My (truthfully small) grump with Drea Leed's article about colours wasn't that she used illustrations, but that the illustrations were by a Flemish painter, of Flemish peasants, doing Flemish peasanty things, and she was discussing Elizabethan clothing.

Unfortunately, Elizabethan sometimes becomes shorthand for 'any 16th century culture', which I'm (increasingly) realizing isn't accurate.

It's like illustrating the hunting practices of lions while showing a picture of cheetahs hunting. Well, they're both big cats, and they both live in Africa, and chase the same kind of prey, right? Well, yes...and if you didn't know what a lion looked like, learning about cheetahs would be fine. But we do know what lions look like, and have pictures of them hunting.

And Drea is an expert on lions hu...I mean, on Elizabethan costume, and knows the difference between English and Flemish people. And lots of people refer to her site. So why not illustrate her article w/ pics of English subjects? It's not like there's a shortage...

However, wanting citations for her statements is a bigger question.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Recipe for Lorde's sawce, as requested - available online from a couple of different period cooking sources:
 

From the Danish/Icelandic Manuscript:

How to make a sauce for lords and how many days it keeps. Take cloves, and nutmeg, cardamom, pepper, cinnamon, that is canel, and ginger, an equal weight of each, but the cinnamon should be as much as all the other spices, and also fried bread twice as much as all the rest. Crush it all together, and grind with strong vinegar and put into a cask. This is lord's sauce and is good for six months.

How to make use of the above sauce. When you want to use some of it, then boil it well in a pan on hot embers without flame. And take a steak of hart or deer, well larded, and cut into thick slices. And when the sauce is cold, then place the game in it with a little salt and it can be kept there for three weeks. In this way one can preserve steaks of hart, geese and ducks, if cut thick. This is the best sauce that the lords have.



abendgules: (seneschal_cat)
For [livejournal.com profile] exmoor_cat : you don't have to spend anything on medieval cookbooks.
If you want to start cooking stuff for revels, you can start here!

Medieval and Renaissance Food

Medieval Online Cookbooks

Happy browsing!
abendgules: (15thc_worker)
Milko Mjukost, our favourite junk food from Nordmark. Nom nom nom!

Yours for just 29 SEK, plus shipping, from Sverige online.

xe.com says that's $4.89 Cdn.
abendgules: (hunh?)
Why is it that you lose more than 24 hours to 24 hour flu?

Overslept Tues, got up late feeling 'off', but got steadily worse through Tuesday. Gave up and went back to bed early afternoon. 
Went downhill from there, Tues and Tues night. No details required. 

Sweetie says that Wed I succeeded in looking better - no longer looking as pale and awful as Tues, when he came back from a conference.

It's a bit worrying because this is the second time in a month - had almost exactly the same thing happen just before Viceroy tourney.
The first time I associated it with mouldy bread - something I've (unintentionally!) eaten before, but that has never made me this sick.

We keep a fairly tidy and clean kitchen - not spotless, but as clean as it always is. We've never been sick from cooking or undercooking anything before. 

I'm very keen on clean hands, and wash them lots - London is grubby, and I get grimy-feeling just from walking to the bus stop. 

I just don't get it.

Off to the MDs shortly, to see if they have any wisdom to impart.

Lost a couple of days jobhunting as a result. Sigh.

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