17th century – Page 2

Damson Preserves

17th century, 19th century, 20th century, Preserves

Here’s a trio of preserves that champion one of my favourite sorts of food – free stuff!

Damsons grow wild in the hedgerows and along the canal banks and lanes of Herefordshire, Worcestershire and Shropshire, and the only cost is your time to pick them. They are tart, wild plums, about the size and shape of a large grape, with a soft, hazy-blue bloom to the skin. NB The size/shape is key to identifying true damsons – if the fruit is round and apple-shaped, it is a different wild plum known as a bullace.

I had an especially impressive haul of damsons this year, from three difference sources, so aside from the obligatory Damson Gin, I had enough to make batches of the above preserves for the first time, the recipes for which I have had bookmarked for years. Whatever your toothsome preference, there should be something for everyone here.

If you’re unable to find damsons, then all of these recipes will work with any kind of small, tart plums.

Damson Conserve

From MS1795, circa 1685, Wellcome Library Collection

First up is the oldest of the three recipes, found in a household manuscript book at the Wellcome Library. Sadly for those of us interested in people as much as recipes, it is anonymous, and dates from around 1685. It caught my eye because of the slightly unusual method it employs. Usually, the vigorous boiling in the making of damson jam renders the delicate fruit into a pulp, but the method in this recipe is strikingly similar to that employed by the modern queen of jam-making, la fée des confitures, Christine Ferber. Sugar is used to both draw out the juices of the fruit, and to infuse the delicate flesh, so that it can all the better withstand the cooking process. The result is beautifully whole damsons in a richly flavoured syrup.

You can make any quantity you like, by scaling up the recipe to suit the quantity of fruit you have. I have altered the recipe slightly, based on my experience of working with Madam Ferber’s recipes.

1lb damsons
1lb granulated sugar
120ml water

Remove the stalks and with a sharp knife, cut the skin of the damsons around “in the crease” as the recipe puts it.
Sprinkle a layer of sugar in a pan and set the damsons into the sugar, to draw out the juice.
Sprinkle the remainder of sugar over the top.
Pour over the water.
Cover and leave overnight.
Next day, heat very gently until the sugar has melted.
Lift the fruit out of the syrup and bring it to a boil.
Return the fruit to the now hot syrup and allow to steep overnight.
On Day 3, lift the fruit out of the syrup and bring it to a boil again.
Return the fruit and simmer for 5 minutes.
Transfer to warmed pots and seal while hot.

Miss Milward’s Pickled Damsons

19th century

Alison Uttley’s fictionalised autobiographical book The Country Child was one of my favourites growing up, and it remains so to this day. The book details her childhood growing up on a Derbyshire farm in the late nineteenth century – I highly recommend it.

Ms Uttley came across her mother’s recipe book whilst researching Country Hoard, and in response to encouragement from her published, produced Recipes from an Old Farmhouse in 1966. This recipe was made in vast quantities, to ensure there was a ready supply for the many mouths fed at the farm.

Almost equally sweet and sharp, they are equally good served alongside cold meats and cheeses, as spooned over ice cream.

You can halve or even quarter this recipe if liked.

3.2kg damsons
1.8kg white, granulated sugar
2 x 5cm cinnamon sticks
20g whole cloves
malt vinegar to cover

Layer the damsons and sugar in a casserole.
Add the spices and vinegar enough to just submerge the fruit, and cover with a lid.
Place in the oven and turn the heat to 120°C, 100°C Fan.
Bake gently for 1 hour to draw out the juices.
Set aside to cool.
When cold, drain the fruit from the syrup.
Heat the syrup until boiling, then pour over the fruit and allow to stand until the next day.
Repeat this draining/boiling each day for the next 7 days (for a total of 8 days).
Allow the damsons to stand in the syrupy pickle for seven more days.
Spoon the damsons into warmed pots, boil the syrup and pour over the fruit.
Seal at once.
Cherries may also be pickled in this way.

Mrs Musson’s Baroda Chutney

This recipe, from Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire, won first prize in the Farmer and Stockbreeder Competition in 1950, and it is my new, favourite chutney. It can be found in a delightful little book entitled “Cook it the Farmhouse Way” by Barbara Wilcox. A digitised copy of the book can be borrowed for 2 weeks from The Internet Archive – click here.

The damsons give it a beautiful, rich colour, and the chutney can be eaten immediately. It is fantastic with both cold meats and cheeses.

1.35kg apples – peeled and cored
1.35kg marrow – peeled and chopped roughly
1.35kg tomatoes
900g damsons, counted
1.125kg onions – peeled
225g shallots
170g garlic
140g salt
1tsp dried chilli flakes
900g sugar
115g mustard seed – yellow or black
50g fresh ginger – sliced thin
15g whole cloves
1.7 litres malt vinegar

Chop the apples, marrow, tomatoes, onions, shallots and garlic. You can do this by hand or, as I did, by pulsing them 2 or 3 times in a food processor. You want your resulting chutney to be fine enough to spread in a sandwich without any unseemly large pieces.
Put into a large bowl with the damsons, salt, chillies and sugar.
Mix thoroughly, then cover with cling film and leave overnight.
The next day, tie the spices and the sliced ginger in a muslin bag and add to the vegetables, together with the vinegar.
Mix thoroughly then pour everything into a preserving pan.
Bring slowly to the boil, stirring frequently, then turn the heat down and simmer until no excess moisture is visible – 4-6 hours – stirring regularly. Alternatively, you can cook this, uncovered, in a slow cooker. It requires less stirring, although the cooking time then increases to about 10 hours.
Remove the muslin bag of spices and fish out the damsons stones (optional – but you might want to write a reminder on the label if you keep them in). If you counted your damsons before cooking, you can easily keep track of how many stones you need to retrieve.
Pot and seal at once.

Mini Chicken and Bacon Pies

17th century, Pastry, Savoury Pastry

Jane Newton, circa 1675

Jane Newton’s 17th century manuscript recipe book (MS1325 at The Wellcome Library) is unusual for the time, because it appears to have been written by the lady herself, rather than a scribe. It is meticulously set out, beginning with an alphabetical index and progressing through a range of recipes, informally grouped together: potages, roasts, boilings, collarings, puddings, picklings, tarts, wines and preserves.

The handwriting is regular, the lettering excessively flourished – Jane loves an upper-case letter and refuses to confine them to the beginning of sentences – the spelling quirky and capricious. The ink has faded to brown, but the scarlet margins and diligently underlined titles are still bright and bold.

The book has a very informal tone, and on reading, it is possible to imagine Jane chattering away about her cookery recipes, complete with interruptions to her train of thought. In the recipe for Taffety Tarts, she gets as far as rolling out the pastry, only to leave the instructions hovering unfinished on the page as she then gets distracted into starting a recipe for Manchet. This too appears incomplete as, after setting the dough to rise, the recipe is hurriedly ended with the vague hand-wave of “yn bake itt.”.

Two incomplete recipes from the pen of Jane Newton

The title of this miniature pie recipe is a perfect example of the informal tone of most of the book. In the early pages, Jane closes out a recipe for Partridge Pottage with the following comment:

This Pottage is proper to bee Garnished wth Pitti Patties or Little Pa∫sts a thing never yet in Print And I shall give yow the be∫t diretton for the makeing them when I treat of Bakemeates wch wil bee thereafter given yow

It takes more than twenty pages for this recipe to turn up. Rather than a succinct yet descriptive title, Jane opts to call it To make the Pufes I was Speaking of before in my Pottage. I don’t know about you, but I can almost hear Jane’s vague introductory “Oh…you know…. those things…. pastry bits…. whatchamacallits…. the ones I was talking about earlier!” and all-too-easily picture the accompanying distracted, flapping hand.

Jane was, justifiably, very proud of these tasty morsels:

The∫e are a thing wch is delightfull to the Eater & is not a u∫uall thing at many Tables to be had and Invented by an Italian

These pies are a true déja food recipe through the use of cooked meat in their composition. Although I’ve chosen to use just chicken, the original recipe suggests a combination of both chicken and veal. Other suitable alternatives would be most poultry and pork. The filling also differs from most modern pies in that it contains neither sauce nor gravy. A mere squeeze of orange juice, possibly a Seville, and the moisture in the fresh ingredients keeps the filling from drying out and keeps the pastry from becoming soggy during baking. Once baked, a few drops of chicken stock are added into the pies to supply both seasoning and lusciousness.

The most unusual detail for these little savoury pies is the inclusion of a grape in the middle. Originally, these would have been from bunches taken as thinnings of the vines commonly grown by the great houses (there’s never enough room to allow every bunch of grapes to ripen) so they would be small, underripe and quite sharp to the taste. In the baking they soften a little and provide a bright burst of freshness to the cooked pie. Small green gooseberries work equally well, if you don’t have a vine to hand.

Jane suggests serving these as garnishes to the aforementioned pottage (meaty soup) or even on a dish by themselves. I would widen this by recommending including them in lunchboxes, picnics or as nibbles/appetisers.

Mini Chicken & Bacon Pies

Makes 20 mini pies

shortcrust pastry – made with 300g flour
1 sheet ready rolled puff pastry.

150g cooked chicken
60g smoked, dry-cured streaky bacon – about 4 rashers
3tbs finely chopped fresh parsley(10g)
1tbs fresh thyme, stripped from the stalks
2 rounded tbs chopped shallot (1 ’round’ or ½ a smallish ‘banana’ shallot)
¼ tsp ground white pepper
a pinch of salt
juice of ½ an orange – about 2tbs/30ml
20 small, sharp grapes/gooseberries

Egg for glazing

100ml well-flavoured chicken stock

Dice the chicken and bacon finely and stir together with the herbs, onion and seasoning.
Add the orange juice and stir to combine.
Preheat the oven to 220°C, 200°C Fan.
Roll out the shortcrust pastry, cut out 20 rounds and line the greased cups of a mini muffin tin.
Spoon a little of the mixture into the cups, place a grape in top, then cover with more of the filling mixture.
Dampen the edges of the pastry with a little water.
Cut out 20 lids from the puff pastry and press them gently on top of the mini pies.
Trim any excess pastry.
Brush over with beaten egg and cut a small hole in the top of each pastry lid – a plastic straw works well.
Bake for 15-18 minutes until the pastry is cooked, the lids puffed and golden.
Use a small funnel or teaspoon to pour a little chicken stock into each pie to moisten the filling.
Cool on a wire rack.
Serve warm.

Robert May’s Chicken Pie

17th century, Pastry

Robert May had an extensive and impressive career spanning over fifty-five years and the most tumultuous part of the seventeenth century, from the twilight of the reign of Elizabeth I, through the civil war, the protectorate and the restoration of the monarchy. His cookery book, The Accomplisht Cook, was first published in 1660, when he was in his mid seventies,

As a boy, he apprenticed in France and upon his return worked for many important Catholic families in England. As a consequence, his book not only chronicles multiple decades of British food, but thanks to the generosity of his patrons, that of France, and via printed recipe books, of both Italy and Spain. In his preface, May praises the generosity of hs patrons in allowing him the funds to prepare food at the highest quality, and admits that not all purses will be able to stretch to all of the recipes he presents. He nevertheless holds it his responsibility to pass as much of his 55 years of knowledge as he can. For the most part he claims that with his book:

the Reader shall find most of the Compositions, and mixtures easie to be prepared, most pleasing to the Palate, and not too chargeable to the Purse; since you are at liberty to employ as much or as little therein as you please.

On which note we come to this recipe.

There are two variations of this recipe in The Accomplisht Cook, with only trifling differences between them: one has nutmeg and pistachios, the other cream and breadcrumbs. It is a fraction of a much larger and more ostentatious banqueting dish, and constitutes merely the centrepiece. Robert May has called it a “Pine-Molet”, which is later defined by Randle Holme¹ in 1688 as:

a Manchet of French Bread, with a hole cut in the top, and all the crum taken out, and filled with a composition of rost or boiled Capons minced and stamped to a Paste, with sweet Herbs, Eggs and Spices, &c. and so boiled in a cloth; and serve it in strong Broth, with several sorts of Fowls about it.

This definition seems to have come from a reading of May’s own recipes, as there is no indication of the name being used prior to 1660. It is quite possibly a corruption from French of “pain mollet” a light, spongy bread introduced to France in the early 17th century and much admired and sought-after by, if not the great and the good, then definitely the wealthy, including the queen, Marie de Medici. In following Robert May’s advice, I have decided to dispense with the ‘garnish’ of several cooked birds and focus on the stuffed loaf, because it is so deliciously original, and have opted for baking rather than boiling. Leftover chicken never looked so good!

I tried several variations of the recipe, in terms of both the filling and the exterior, and have made only slight adjustments in order to keep the flavours authentic, and appetising to our 21st century palates. I like all three variations seen here, each delicious in its own right.

The filling is a wonderfully unusual but distinctly savoury jumble of meat, eggs, herbs, nuts and spices, bound with more egg and with a smattering of currants. Seen here, chopped uniformly and baked in an enriched milk bread loaf, the crust has been moistened with stock to prevent it drying out as it bakes in the oven. The result is a crisp outside and a moist and savoury inside. Delicious eaten hot, the pie firms up as it cools, making it ideal for picnics and outings.

In this version, the filling has been chopped less finely, so that the different elements can be easily distinguished. In addition to the large loaf, I have also baked some smaller, individually-sized buns, perfect for a packed lunch.

This third variation has been baked in filo pastry for a thin, friable but deliciously crisp and buttery exterior. This is the same mixture as the pie on the main photograph, with the filling pleasantly chunky and the different elements providing interest visually as well as through taste. This is best enjoyed at home, as the pastry doesn’t retain its crispness once cooled, and would therefore not travel well.

Robert May’s Chicken Pie

You can customise the proportions of the ingredients to suit your own personal tastes, but the following is both flavourful and delightfully different.

75g breadcumbs
100g shelled pistachios
50g ground almonds
50g currants
4 large eggs – hardboiled, chopped²
2 large eggs – whisked
300g cooked chicken – chopped
1/2 nutmeg – grated
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp coarse ground black pepper
1tbs fresh chopped (or 1.5tsp dried) each of chopped thyme, chives, rosemary, marjoram
2tbs chopped fresh parsley.

(optional) chicken stock

A large round loaf/brioche, buns or 1 pack of filo pastry and butter for brushing.

Mix all of the ingredients together well. Set aside while you prepare the loaf/pastry.
If using a loaf or buns, cut off the ‘lid’ neatly and hollow out the interior. Keep enough structural integrity so that the walls remain standing (no thinner than 1cm). Blitz the insides to breadcrumbs and use in the filling if required.
If using filo pastry, generously butter a 24cm spring-form tin and line with sheets of filo. Brush each sheet with melted butter and allow at least 10cm of the sheets to hang outside the tin.
Check the filling for moistness: the breadcrumbs and almonds will have absorbed some of the moisture, so if required, add in stock until the mixture is moist but not over-saturated. Check the seasoning by frying a little patty of the filling in a pan, then tasting and adjusting as necessary.
Spoon the filling into the prepared loaf/buns/tin.
For the stuffed loaf/buns: add the lid and brush the outsides with either stock or water. Wrap in foil.
For the pie: fold over the excess filo pastry to cover the filling. Cover with a loose bottom from a springform tin, or a baking sheet, and add a weight. I use a large, smooth rock, wrapped in foil.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/180°C fan.
Bake for 30-40 minutes until the filling is cooked and the pastry/crust is crisp. To check, use a probe thermometer, which should read at least 75°C-80°C. If making the smaller filo parcels, cooking time is reduced to 20-25 minutes.
For the stuffed loaf/buns: remove the foil and place on serving dish, or if eating cold, keep wrapped until required.
For the pie, remove the weight and baking sheet/base. place your serving plate on top of the pie and flip over. Remove tin and serve.

¹ The academy of armory, or, A storehouse of armory and blazon (1688), Holme, Randle (1627-1699), Chester

² The original recipe (as seen in the first loaf picture) suggested yolks only. I subsequently chose to use the whites as well, to avoid having to find a use for them. If you have a favourite go-to recipe, then by all means omit the whites from the filling.

Salmon Tartare

17th century, Fish & Seafood

I find this recipe a delight because it’s such a modern-sounding dish, yet it is about 350 years old.

It comes from one of my favourite manuscripts at The Wellcome Library, MS3009, owned initially by Elizabeth Jacob, which has been dated to 1654-c.1685.

Intriguingly, I also found it in a second, anonymous manuscript, MS8097, dating more generally to the 17th and 18th centuries.

Usually, when I find recipe duplication such as this, it suggests that the recipes have been copied from a common third source or possibly from each other, but that doesn’t seem to be the case here. Whilst the recipes are broadly similar, they are also slightly different to each other: oil and olives in one, no oil and the addition of marjoram in the other.

Firstly, Elizabeth Jacob’s version, which at some subsequent date has incurred the wrath of a later owner and been severely crossed out. Nevertheless, it is still legible:

ejsalmon — **MS3009, Wellcome Library Collection**

And the second recipe:

anonsalmon — **MS8097, Wellcome Library Collection**

I have been unable to find anything in print even remotely similar to these recipes, in any century, quite part from limiting it to the seventeenth century. Most hashes that I found tended to involve either baking or poaching in their execution.

With the two manuscripts being acquired independently and over 70 years apart, there is little chance of a connectionbetween them and precious little biographical or geographical background details to pursue.

So the origins of these two variations are destined to forever remain an enigma.

A curious, but delicious, enigma.

Hash of Fresh Salmon

Mid 17th Century

I’ve opted for Elizabeth Jacob’s version, with the olives, and substituted pickled cockles for the oysters. If you’re not a fan of olives, why not try the other versionwith marjoram and the oil-less dressing?

Serves 4 as a starter

200g skinless fresh salmon fillet
8 olives – bright green Castelvetrano are eye-catching, black olives for contrast
1 x 155g jar pickled cockles
4 spring onions
3-4 sprigs curly-leaf parsley
zest of 1 lemon
1-2 tbs of a light vinegar, lemon juice or cockle pickle liquid
3-4 tbs salad oil
salt and pepper to taste

4 slices wholemeal toast

dill sprigs and lemon slices to garnish

Wrap the salmon in cling film and freeze for about 30 minutes until firm. This will help to slice it evenly.
When chilled, cut into 1cm slices. Remove any skin or blemishes, then dice into 1cm cubes. Be sure to use a sharp knife and try to keep the cuts as clean as possible. Put the prepared salmon into a bowl.
Cut the olives into 5mm dice and add to the salmon. Discard the stones.
Shred the white parts of the spring onions very finely and add 2 tbs to the salmon.
Strip the parsley from the stalks and chop finely. Add 4tbs to the salmon.
Drain the cockles, reserving the liquid, and add 4tbs to the salmon.
Grate the zest of half the lemon into the salmon.
Toss the salmon ingredients together gently.
Mix 1tbs vinegar or cockle pickle with 2tbs of oil and season with salt and pepper.
Pour the dressing over the salmon mixture and fold through.
Taste, and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add more onion/olives/cockles/parsley/zest if liked.
To serve:
- Use a baking ring or round pastry cutter to cut out a circle of toast.
- Divide the salmon mixture into four and pile one portion on top of the toast. Flatten the surface.
- Transfer to the serving plate and remove the ring by pressing down onto the top of the salmon.Grate a little lemon zest on top of the tartare.
- Garnish with lemon slices and sprigs of fresh dill.

Hot-Pickled Herring

17th century, 18th century, Fish & Seafood

This recipe is something of a contradiction because, despite the name, it is eaten cold.

The slow poaching in a lightly flavoured vinegar neutralises the oiliness of the herring to a certain extent, and the herbs and onion make for a fine, delicate flavour.

This method is also much quicker than the traditional method of sousing herring, which involves both brining and marinading in spiced vinegar over several days. You can put this dish into the oven at 6pm, cook and then leave to cool in the oven overnight and it is ready to eat the following day. This method also has the advantage of dissolving all the tiny pin bones that abound in herring, leaving just the backbone to lift free when served.

The recommended dressing is for oil and vinegar, but a little crème fraiche or even the strained cooking liquid are also enjoyable.

Pickled Herring Recipe — Source: MS1795, Wellcome Library Collection

Hot Pickled Herring

1 herring or 2 herring fillets per person
1tsp salt
1tsp black pepper
100g butter
1 large bunch of thyme.
2 onions, sliced thinly into rings
1 litre white wine vinegar to cover

Cut off the herring heads and tails if necessary. Rinse and pat dry.
Sprinkle the herring wth salt and pepper.
Slice the butter thinly and lay half in the bottom of an oven-proof dish.
Arrange a layer of onion and thyme sprigs and lay the herrings on top.
Repeat the layers of butter, onion/thyme and herring until the dish is full (or ingredients are finished).
Pour over sufficient white wine vinegar to cover the herring, then cover the dish with a double layer of cooking foil, tied tightly with string.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/180°C fan/gas 6.
Bake for 4 hours, then remove and set aside to cool completely.
Serve cold.

Flatfish Fricassee

17th century, Fish & Seafood

Oh, I do love a bit of alliteration! Straight away I’m going to own up to changing this title from the original (Sole Fricassee) in order to stress the ease with which it can be used with a number of different fish, including sole, plaice and halibut.

Original receipt — Source: MS3009, Wellcome Library Collection

I also chose this recipe for the way it brazenly ignores all the conventions of fish cooking that we in the 21st century have become so wrapped up in, and suggests a mixture of beef stock and red wine for the cooking liquid. I can picture the cognoscenti of gastronomy clutching their chests and gasping in horror at this unorthodox approach, but, as I have found in so many of these old recipes, this rule-breaking works. The contrast between the strong braise and the delicate fish is a delight.

Flatfish Fricassee

Serves 4

8 sole fillets
50g unsalted butter
250ml strong beef stock – use a stock cube and just half the quantiy of water
250ml red wine,
4 anchovy fillets, rinsed and chopped fine
2 shallots – chopped fine
4 lemon slices
2 whole blades of mace
10 cloves
20g butter for the trimmings
parsley & lemon to garnish

Trim the edges from the fillets.
Cut the fillets into pieces about 10cm long.
Roll the trimmings into coils and secure with a wooden cocktail stick.
Put the stock, red wine, anchovies, shallots, lemon and spices in a pan and simmer for 10 minutes.
Melt the butter in a frying pan and quickly fry the fillet pieces for 15-20 seconds each side.
Add the stock mixture to the fish and simmer for 5 minutes.
Melt the remaining butter in a pan and quickly fry the coils of trimmings for garnishing.
Transfer the fish to a warmed serving dish and keep warm.
Strain the sauce, return to the pan and taste. Add salt and pepper as liked.
Pour the sauce over the fish and garnish with the coiled trimmings, freshly sliced lemon and parsley sprigs.
Serve at once.

Black Broth

17th century, 18th century, Game

I have no idea who Mr Sparks was, but he obviously made an impression on at least one of the many ladies through whose hands one particular manuscript¹ passed, for there are no fewer than nine of his recipes included over the course of ten pages.

I have been unable to find any printed cookery book with a Mr Sparks as author, so must assume that these recipes were copied from one handwritten source into another as a result of having tasted the dishes in question. I almost have more confidence in a handwritten recipe with a name attached that is otherwise untraceable, because it hints at genuine originality: someone created it, someone ate it, that someone liked it so much, they asked for the recipe.

Original Black Broth recipe — Source: MS7851, Wellcome Library Collection

This black broth is made with venison. Venison is beautifully lean meat, which also means that it can be prone to toughness on the less prime cuts such as shoulder, or the ‘helpfully’ diced meat (that gives no hint as to which part of the animal it came from) available in packs in the supermarket.

Long, slow poaching in a flavoursome broth makes for fall-apart tender meat, perfect for a warming winter soup. This recipe uses a method gleaned from old manuscripts that is the opposite of what we do today, namely frying the meat after it has been cooked. I’ve used it with ragoos and fricassees and have been delighted with the added richness it gives both to the flavour of the meat and to the dish as a whole. The butter might seem extravagant, but it is a sumptuous
complement to the leanness of the venison.

A slow-cooker is ideal for this largely set-it-and-forget-it hearty soup, but you can also cook it on the stove top on a very low heat, or covered in the oven at 140°C/120°C fan/gas 1.

Black Broth

1kg venison shoulder, in one piece if possible, otherwise cut into large cubes.
3 slices wholemeal bread
3 onions
9 cloves
1 bunch parsley
1 bunch mixed herbs
1tbs peppercorns
1tsp salt
1.5 litres beef stock
50g unsalted butter
3-4tbs chopped, mixed herbs
gravy browning (optional)

2-3 slices of white bread, crusts removed, cut into 1cm cubes

marigold petals to garnish

Toast the bread as dark as possible without turning black.
Peel the onions and stick 3 cloves into each one.
Add all of the ingredients down to the stock to the slow cooker and cook on low for 8 hours.
Remove the meat from the cooking liquid and trim all fat, skin and connective tissue. Cut into suitably-sized pieces if not already cubed.
Strain the cooking liquid and discard the solids. Remove all fat from the broth, either with a separator jug or by chilling the liquid in the fridge and allowing the fat to solidify on top, then lifting off. Taste and decide if the broth requires any embellishment. You can improve the flavour of the broth, if necessary, with various flavouring sauces such as, but not limited to, mushroom ketchup, walnut ketchup, anchovy essence, Henderson’s Relish, Worcestershire Sauce, Marmite, Bovril, soy sauce.
Melt the butter in a large pan and add the pieces of cooked venison.
Braise the meat over a medium-low heat, turning often but carefully, to avoid breaking it apart further, until the meat is richly browned.
Return the meat to the broth and heat through. Add the chopped herbs and taste to check the seasoning. Add pepper, salt and more of the flavourings as required. If you’d like your broth darker, use a drop or two of gravy browning.
Add the cubed bread to the remaining butter and toss over medium heat until crisped and browned.
Serve sippets (for that is what you have just made) and marigold petals (if available) sprinkled into the broth.

¹ MS7851, Wellcome Library Collection. Various marks of ownership are written in the book, in a number of hands. ‘Elizabeth Browne 1697’, ‘Penelope Humphreys’, ‘Sarah Studman’, ‘D Milward’ and ‘Mary Dawes Jan 18 1791’.

Seafood Pottage

17th century, Fish & Seafood

This recipe is an attempt to recreate a dish served at the legendary Pontack’s Head tavern in Abchurch Lane, which reigned supreme as London’s foremost eatery at the close of the seventeenth century.

It is listed in the Johnson Family Receipts manuscript as Crayfish Pottage, but the instructions give so much leeway in terms of ingredients, it’s more appropriate to call it a seafood pottage. It would appear that the Johnson Family, or whomever composed the recipes in the manuscript, was a great admirer of the fare at Pontack’s, as there are no fewer than four entries ascribed to that establishment. Whether they were frequent visitors or merely collected the receipts from others, it gives a glimpse into the type of food served and enjoyed there by Pepys, Swift, Defoe and London’s society elite.

Although luxurious, with ready-prepared seafood and good quality fish stock, it is ready in mere moments.

Original Recipe — Source: MS3082, Wellcome Library Collection

Seafood Pottage

Serves 4

1 litre fish stock
250g soft white breadcrumbs
4 spring onions, finely chopped
½ tsp ground mace
½ tsp ground allspice
400g prepared crayfish tails, prawns, lobster, cockles, mussels, shrimp
1 handful fresh parsley
8 sprigs dill
2 large yolks
150ml double cream
salt and pepper to taste
Put the fish stock, breadcrumbs, onion, mace and allspice into a pan and simmer for 10 minutes
until slightly reduced.
Whisk the yolks with the cream and mix into the soup, stirring as the mixture thickens.
Add the prepared seafood and allow to warm through.
Strip the fresh herbs from the stalks, chop finely and stir into the soup.
Taste, and season with salt and pepper.
Serve with crusty bread and toast sippets.

Saffron Trout

17th century, Fish & Seafood

Trout has a glorious, rich, coral-orange colour when raw, and a delicate poaching for a few minutes is all that is required to cook it to perfection. Alas, even this gentle treatment causes some of that fantastic colour to fade to a rather less interesting pastel pink.

Jane Newton’s recipe, taken from her colourfully laid out manuscript book (MS1325, Wellcome Library) suggests introducing a touch of saffron to the poaching liquid which, she assures us, “will add to the seasonal colour beyond expectation.”

Saffron Trout

Serves 4

600g boneless trout fillets

Poaching liquid
4 spring onions, sliced
1tbs black peppercorns
2 bay leaves
12 stalks of parsley
a few sprigs of fresh herbs
4 slices lemon
1tsp horseradish
1tsp salt
pinch of saffron

English Butter Sauce
Standard Butter Sauce – see recipe here – made with 60ml freshly squeezed orange juice instead of water, and the following additions stirred in:
1tsp grated horseradish
½ nutmeg, grated
2-4 anchovy fillets, rinsed and chopped fine

4 slices white bread, crusts removed, toasted

Put all of the ingredients for the poaching liquid into a wide pan and add 500ml water.
Bring to the boil, turn the heat down, cover and simmer for 30 minutes.
Prepare the butter sauce.
When the poaching liquid has simmered for 30 minutes, slide the fish in and allow to gently poach for 5-6 minutes, depending on the thickness of your fillets.
Lay the trimmed toast into a serving dish and place the trout fillets on top.
Spoon over a little of the butter sauce and serve the rest on the side.

Broiled Mackerel with Butter Sauce

17th century, Fish & Seafood

Mackerel is an oily fish, rich in omega-3 fatty acids. They have been an important food source for thousands of years, and are especially important to the fishing communities of coastal Scotland.

Once in danger from overfishing, mackerel are now available through thoughtful and sustainable farming methods. They are beautiful to behold, with their dark blue tiger stripes over a pale blue, sometimes green, background and dazzlingly white undersides.

This recipe, with it’s simple stuffing and garnish allows both the beauty and flavour of the mackerel to shine, in addition to being speedy to both prepare and cook.

Broiled Mackerel with Butter Sauce

4 fresh mackerel, gutted
2 bulbs of fennel, cut into thin slices

For the stuffing
2 slices of fresh wholemeal bread made into breadcrumbs
2tbs each of chopped fresh dill, parsley, fennel, thyme, rosemary
¼ tsp pepper
¼ tsp salt

Butter Sauce – see recipe here
To Add
2-3tbs capers
a little caper pickle liquid

Make the butter sauce:
Add the capers and a little of the pickle liquid to taste.
Wash and dry the fish.
Scotch the outside of the mackerel in diamond shapes with a sharp knife.
Mix the stuffing ingredients together and fill the insides of the mackerel. Don’t worry if there’s stuffing left over.
Sprinkle the fish with salt and lay thin slices of butter over them.
Lay slices of fennel on an oiled rack over a grillpan.
Lay on some flakes of butter.
Add the fish and cover with more butter.
Lay over more fennel. Dot a little butter over the fennel, or brush lightly with oil, to prevent it burning.
Grill under high heat for 5-6 minutes then turn the fish and grill the other side.
To turn the fish, lay a wire rack over the top and hold the grill and the wire rack like the bread of a sandwich. Turn the whole over, so the underside of the fish is now uppermost, with the fennel on top.
Grill for a further 5-6 minutes.
While the fish is cooking, melt a little butter in a an and quickly stir fry any excess herb stuffing, until the breadcrumbs crisp up.
Serve the fish on a bed of the fennel, sprinkled with the toasted crumbs, and butter sauce with capers on the side.