Pinky Out! - Rings in Period

Jewelry is a wonderful accessory for any re-enactor. It comes in many shapes and forms, and elevates any kit. I've had a small fascination with rings recently. Specifically the ones worn in the middle of the finger, commonly referred to as "first knuckle rings".

Portrait of a Lady - Filippo Lippi - 1440

I've seen quite a few examples of rings being worn this way, and admire the quirkiness and subtlety of them. It's also a current trend in mundane society. Most jewelry was used to show a sign of status and wealth. Even if it might not fit my persona exactly, I always need to up my court garb game... right? This is what I keep telling myself so I have an excuse to obtain one.

Portrait of Madalena - Raphael - 1504

A dear friend of mine is a jeweler and when I was discussing the rings with him, he perked right up and told me we could make one that very day. I didn't want anything too elaborate, but I certainly wanted something that would easily be period, and would "enhance my aesthetic".

It was a very simple process. Undoubtedly more simple than it would be for a jeweler in period to complete. I would like to do more research on how jewelry was crafted in period, later down the road. At the time, though I was just excited to have the opportunity, regardless of creative process.

My finished product!

Not to mention, the emeralds were harder to come by and a lab created option wasn't exactly available then. Nevertheless I persisted. After just a few short hours, and helpful guidance of my jeweler friend, I had a first knuckle ring of my own.

The process to make the ring itself might not have been very period, but the outcome I feel is quite apropos. It ended up being a lab created emerald in sterling silver.

I'm not particularly fond of gold, not to mention it's considerably more expensive. I'm pretty pleased with the outcome, though. I would like to try a ring with a square stone next, as I'm seeing those shapes as well. Round stones seem to be fairly less common from what I've seen. Perhaps I'll dabble in some granulation to help make my next ring stand out more. I'm hoping to get more time at the jewelers bench this year. I'm still mostly focused on food, but a little bling never hurt anyone.

Pomegranate Chicken Part 2 - The Motherdish

About a year ago, I posted a recipe for Pomegranate Chicken. Loosely based off of a recipe I had come across from Liber de Coquina, a 14th century cookbook. There is some debate on whether the book is originally from France, or Italy but currently resides in the Bibliotheque Nationale in France.

The original manuscript in Latin calls for almond milk and cinnamon. Being the pomegranate is very sweet to begin with, I decided to not channel the sweeter, creamier side of things and went a savory route. In the original recipe, it even states "However, it can be broth green with herbs. [loosely translated by Google from Latin]" which I interpreted as an option to make an herb focused broth for the chicken.

The original recipe (in Latin) is as follows:

"De romania: de romania, suffrigantur pulli cum lardo et cepis et tarantur amigdale non mondate et distemperentur cum succo granatorum acronum et dulcium.

Postea, colletur et ponatur ad bulliendum cum  pullis et cum cocleari egitetur. Et ponatur species.

Potest tamen fieri brodium uiride cum herbis."

The translation that Google provided wasn't exactly the best (other than the last line of text offering a more herbaceous alternative).

" On Romania, from Romania, suffrigantur chick with bacon and onions and terantur almond pomegranate juice with no mondate and distempered Acroria and sweets. Then, collet and set for boiling with chickens and spoonfuls of disturbance. And a kind.

However, it can be broath green with herbs."

I decided to do more digging on a possible alternate translation.

I came across a translation from Euriol of Lothian that went over their redaction of the recipe. It too included the almond milk, and cinnamon option with no mention of the alternate. Their translation did offer a clearer glimpse into how the prepare and cook the chicken, though. Euriol's recipe translation can be found here.

I hadn't found an alternate broth recipe for the chicken yet, so I decided to make my own using what I thought would be an educated guess at ingredients. Mixing a little Andalusian in with it (as per my persona) I came up with the recipe you see below. It is shown next to Euriol's for comparison.

Euriol of Lothien’s Pomegranate Chicken 1 whole chicken 1 small onion, diced 1 tbsp of olive oil ¼ tsp grains of paradise ¼ tsp ground ginger ¼ tsp cinnamon 1 c almond milk 1 c pomegranate juice Cut the chicken into 8 pieces ( 2 drumsticks, 2 wings, 2 thighs, 2 breasts) and season with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a Dutch oven or 6 quart stock pot. Brown chicken in oil, turning at least once to brown each side. Remove chicken and set aside. Add onion and sauté until translucent. Add remaining ingredients, and reduce heat to simmer. Let stew until chicken is tender and garnish with pomegranate seeds if preferred.

Lady Elvira’s Pomegranate Chicken 12 lbs of Frozen Chicken Wings 750 ml of Pomegranate Syrup 4 Sprigs of Rosemary 4 Tablespoons of Minced Garlic 2 cups of Parsley 1/2 c of Soy Sauce Bake the chicken in the oven as directed on the package. While the chicken is cooking, combine the sauce ingredients and set aside. Once the chicken is cooked, let it cool for 10-15 minutes. Place your chicken in a container of your choice (I used an aluminum pan) and add the sauce. Let it refrigerate overnight. Cook on low heat for a few hours, moving chicken regularly to get even flavor distribution. Once the chicken looks caramelized, it's ready to plate.

In the original recipe, only a cup of pomegranate juice was used, but it was for a single chicken. Being that I was using 12 pounds of chicken versus a single bird, I increased the pomegranate juice. I had also seen rosemary used in Liber de Coquina in a fish dish.

Murri (which I substituted with soy sauce) was a little bit of a stretch. I've seen it used in Andalusian cooking of course, but I haven't found definitive use in Italian cooking. Also, considering this book is either French or Italian further lessens the likelihood of murri being used. This was merely a liberty I took in relation to my persona. 

The original recipe called for onions, which I tend to avoid for allergy reasons. I used garlic instead, and added parsley to lend more herb flavor.

The chicken also doesn't sit nearly as long in the juice in the original recipe. In period, overnight marinating wouldn't have really been an option. I wanted the flavors to get into the chicken though, so I took liberties with this step. Extended cooking was a method to promote tender meats so I still utilized that to give the chicken the tender texture mentioned in the original recipe.

My interpretation is clearly more on the anachronistic side of things, but there were indeed bases built off of period recipes and methods.

Sources:

Original Text Found: http://www.staff.uni-giessen.de/gloning/tx/mul2-lib.htm

Euroil of Lothien's Translation: http://www.medievalcuisine.com/Euriol/recipe-index/romania

Quite a Pickle We're in: Radish Edition

A person walks into the doctor's office. 

A banana stuck in one of their ears, a radish in the other ear, and a carrot stuck in one nostril. 

The person says, "Doc, this is terrible. What's wrong with me?" 

The doctor says, "Well, first of all, you need to eat more sensibly." 

Radishes are far from everyone's favorite vegetable. They're bitter, tough, and not pleasing to many palettes. I'm personally a lover of radishes in most any form. One form I had never tried before was pickling. I love pickles. I love radishes. What better way to enjoy my two favorite things than by joining them together?

Both pickling and radishes date back quite a bit so this is all prospectively period (other than keeping it in a mason jar, of course). Radishes are documented back during the Roman Empire and were said to have come in a variety of tastes, sizes, and colors - much like they are today. Pickles were believed to be made by Mesopotamians in 2400B.C. - and thus a very period, and pioneer food discovery.

It only takes 24 hours for radishes to pickle. So cut them up on a Friday afternoon, and they're ready by the time you have lunch at that camping event on Saturday.

I cheated a little and used pickling spices in this mixture. My next attempt will utilize something a little less easy, but I'm sure they'll still be easy to make nonetheless.

I started with a 32 oz mason jar and filled it with thinly sliced radishes. Every few radishes I placed a smashed clove of garlic, and at the end I topped it all of with white vinegar and pickling spices. That was it. There is indeed a recipe below for your use. I'll also have an upcoming post as well regarding a variation of this same recipe. It's something easier to document ingredients for and seems it might be even tastier, and more period.

Elvira's Pickled Radishes

1 32 oz. Mason Jar

2 Bundles of Radishes

3 Large cloves of Garlic

Handful of Pickling Spice *

Vinegar to Fill

Slice your radishes thinly and place in the mason jar.

Every in to 2 inches place a smash garlic clove in the jar.

Once full, place your pickling spice in the jar.

Fill with vinegar.

Let sit for 12-24 hours.

Viola!

Mead! The Adventure Begins...

Mead has had a long history alongside men during their stay on Earth. It has fantastical stories where it's held in the highest regard among kings and gods.It was once said by Vikings that the mead made from the blood of a god, and honey would turn a man  into a scholar.

Mead, or honey-wine is still a beverage that graces tables to this day.It may not hold as high a covetous repertoire, but still is enjoyed by many.

The earliest surviving description of mead is in the hymns of the Rigveda, a sacred book of Hinduism.

In Ancient Greece, mead was said to be the preferred drink. Aristotle discussed mead in his Meteorologica and elsewhere. The Spanish-Roman naturalist Columella gave a recipe for mead in De re rustica, about AD 60.

"Take rainwater kept for several years, and mix a sextarius* of this water with a pound] of honey. For a weaker mead, mix a sextarius of water with nine ounces of honey. The whole is exposed to the sun for 40 days, and then left on a shelf near the fire. If you have no rain water, then boil spring water."

*- A sextarius is the equivalent to one pint.

What sort of re-enactor would I be if I didn't try my hand at mead at least once? Not to say everyone should try it, but I like medieval food... and I dare say.. LOVE mead and beer. So I asked the help of a friend who had experience, and told me what I'd need.

3 - 5 lbs of honey

1 gallon carboy

1 airlock

1 package of yeast ( I got a champagne yeast)

Water

I had everything I needed... now I just needed to put it all together. Admittedly it took much longer to get everything assembled than originally planned, but it's now fermenting away in a friend's closet.

So we dissolved the honey with water and let it come to temperature. About 120 degrees. Once it reached that point we took a small amount of it and let it cool. We then added the yeast to that and let it sit for about 10 minutes.

While the yeast sat, my cohort peeled and chopped apples. We began placing them in the carboy with the contents of one full vanilla bean and a dash or orange water (because it's period!)

Here it is! Ready to ferment and become alcoholic and delicious...

We then put the honey and water mixture in the carboy over the apples we already added. Once that was in, we added the pitch (yeast mixture). Once it was added we gave it a nice jostle to make sure everything was incorporated well.

Now a few notes: We probably should've pureed the apples or made them a lot smaller chunks. This make it easier for the yeast to digest and break down. It also takes up less volume in the carboy - therefore giving you more mead when it's done.

It's been sitting for a little over two weeks now! And it's bubbling away. In about two more weeks, we'll strain it into another carboy without apples, and let it sit for about 6 months!

Here's a short video of it bubbling away! This is what we're calling our "first born" until we taste it...

Once we start our next steps, I'll be sure to try and update. Leave comments below on your own experiences, and thoughts. This is very new, so any and all feedback is very very welcome. Thanks for reading!

14th Century Hood Part 1 - Constructing the Lining

In the SCA, some folks really like to go all out and create a lot of their pieces (or all of their pieces) by hand. I am all for it, but in most cases just personally don’t have the time or patience. Most of my work right now is indeed, machine sewn. I’m not against doing hand sewing from time to time however.

I’ve only been in the SCA for 3 years, and have just recently gotten my AoA (Award of Arms). I’m merely trying to find what skills suit me best, and trying to hone those skills to get the most out of my experience.

To enhance said experience, and really make an attempt at period construction of a garment I decided to try hand sewing a 14th century hood. It’s not an uncommon piece of clothing in the middle ages, and was quite popular from at least the 1300s to the 1600s. The Viking version of the same garment is a little different, but the same basic idea and functionality.

Worn by both men and women, hoods were a common head covering for people. Most examples

Period Illumination featuring two hood wearing people.

found are merely one layer of fabric, but for more affluent people during the time it bet it wouldn't be unheard of to have a lining fabric to offer added stability and warmth during colder months. I don’t have any documentation for this. If there isn’t, this is just a theory. If there is, well… I stand by my statement.

I decided to use a heavy black linen for the main body of the hood, and a salmon colored cotton blend for lining and buttons. Now, you might be asking yourself - “How is the color salmon historically accurate?”. Great question! I asked myself the same thing. Apparently madder root (Rubia Tinctorum) offered many colors in the red spectrum during the middle ages. My fabric wasn’t naturally dyed in this case, but the color is indeed accurate.

I conveniently had the matching thread (because I usually buy a matching spool when I buy fabric), and decided to get to work. My friend, and teacher within the SCA draped my pattern fabric (a thin white cotton) and fitted it properly. As she has some background in fashion design she had no trouble getting it to drape as it should. In no time at all I had my hood pattern cut out, and was laying it on my fabric. 

Forgive my fabric weights, and cutting table. I have limited space to work on. First I cut out the parts of the pattern in the lining fabric. As you can see in the middle image above, an extension was added to the original pattern. This addition is what is known as a liripipe. A liripipe was common on hoods, and varied in length from modest to floor length. Not all hoods had a liripipe attached, such as those in the Viking version. No evidence has been found that liripipe length related to a status of a person or anything of the like. It just seems to be a fashion choice. In the event of a longer liripipe it could be worn around the neck as a scarf for extra warmth.

Once the pieces were cut out, I started working on the lining. A blanket stitch was done around all the edges, and on the seams. Once that was done it was easier to see what the hood would look like when finished.

Once that was constructed, I started constructing the black outer piece. It seemed a little much to put it all in one blog post, though. Please stay tuned for the second half of the blog post! I'll be finishing it up, and providing a button and button hole tutorial. Thanks again for stopping by!

Pelicon: The Begining

So I was perusing Pinterest recently, and I came across a pin from one of my favorite SCA Pinners, Fortune St. Keyne. She had pinned an image I had never seen before:

I'm not certain of the origin of this image, but the garment this woman is wearing is quite interesting. It's called a pelicon (pronounced with a soft c), and Google is less than helpful when trying to research it. Pinterest however, gave me at least a little more to sink my teeth into.

I came across this image as well when searching Pinterest, and it only helped confirm a few theories I had on how it was worn and constructed.

The image led me to this site, that gave a little blurb about the garment and its styling and construction.

"At the end of the 13th century the Pelicon, a feminine version of the Garde-corps, makes its appearance. This is made of a large elliptical piece of fabric, measuring approximately three and a half metres on its longer axis. Worn, the fabric falls softly from the shoulders to the feet and forms a train at the back. Like the Garde-corps, the Pelicon is made from a heavy fabric bordered with fur and completed with a hood. The head opening is cut at approximately three-quarters of the length of the ellipse, where the separately cut hood is buttoned up to the collar."

Upon reading that description I felt comfortable in my assumption that is was an odd hybrid of a surcoat and a houppelande... but with a hood. The hooded aspect is whats really grabbing me, and the contrasting lining fabric that shows when the hood is left to hang off the shoulders. It also doesn't help that the trim in some of the examples is fur, and I happen to LOVE fur on everything.

A fellow household member is making one for Birka so it'll be interesting to see what she comes up with. I've seen a few variations without the hood, and just a very high buttoned neckline - much more similar to that of a houppelande, without the sleeves.

I'll be doing my own interpretation of it at some point. I've got some red silk that is dying to be made into a cotehardie, and I think this would be the perfect addition to that dress for those cold, wintery events *cough* Crown Tourney *cough*.