The social factor

No aspect of human behaviour ever exists in isolation - and so it follows that any discussion of medieval eating habits would be incomplete without at least a glimpse of the context surrounding them. The philosophy of humours has already been discussed, and would appear to flesh out and explain some aspects of our subject. However, there are other influences equally and in ways even more important to be considered. Throughout the medieval period there were few institutions as powerful as the Christian church on one hand, and public opinion on the other. This last section attempts to address the influence these two factors exercised on medieval dining.

Food and Christianity: fish days, flesh days

Christian influence permeated the vast majority of daily life in medieval Europe, and English kitchens were no exception to the rule. A powerful example of this is supplied by the regular rhythm of fish days and flesh days - that is, days when red meat was allowed or to be avoided. In the mind of Church elders, this dietary practice was designed to enhance faith and religious piety; while Mennell attributes the concept more to sociological theories of abstinence and the civilisation of appetite, to Scully's thinking they are equally obviously tied up in the philosophy of humours. As flesh and animal produce in general were perceived to be warm, they served to promote a choleric temperament, ideal for fostering excess and lechery. Lean days, Scully argues, served to curb this tendency by favouring more temperate humours present in fish and garden products.

By the most ardent strictures, lean day prohibitions ruled out not only red meats and poultry, but also dairy products, eggs and lard. How strictly these rules were adhered to may have varied from house to house; on more liberal estates constraints might have been relaxed enough to overlook a little cream, or to explain waterfowl into a type of fish. Ideally, however, Lenten fare was designed to promote moderation, and characterised by the use of fish, cereals and vegetables rather than the roasts, pastries and rich cream normally favoured by Norman lords. It was here that the medieval cook could truly show his ingenuity; complete lean menus preserved in contemporary manuscripts prove that religious demands were no match for a truly devoted gastronome.

Competent cooks easily produced pea paste to replace butter; almond milk was substituted for animal milk, and nut or olive oils replaced lard in frying and baking. The kosher fish might be divided into several sections, each section prepared in a different way and sauced appropriately, and then recombined into the original whole before serving; roast game could be set aside for something as exotic as porpoise. Particularly clever cooks concocted fish tarts which by some alchemy mimicked the taste of cheese. Was this inventive variety considered cheating? Certainly not by the authors of contemporary cookery manuscripts. Rather they saw it as a kind of honesty; that even with limited ingredients a cook should do his best to compose a balanced, interesting and gastronomically satisfying meal.

Feasts: customs, practices, rituals

Of all medieval cuisine, perhaps the highest form was the feast. These gatherings, evaluated as much by the number of mouths fed and dishes serves as by the quality of the guests, were huge undertakings for any kitchen staff. At a feast it was not enough to simply feed the guests; a large part of the point was to dazzle the participants with the quality of the meal, and by association the host offering it. Courses were designed for variety and the intervals filled with entertainment; feasts were also a good time to beg the host for favours, as the event was designed to display not only the wealth but also the generosity of its patron.

Planning a feast was no trivial affair. Any moderately sized household consisted of several social groups; each of these meant different considerations to be taken into account when planning a menu. Furthermore, in addition to the menus planned for various secular groups, an entirely separate one was required for members of the clergy. Once completed, menus were divided into courses, generally consisting of several poultry, meat or fish dishes and a few sweet ones. The number of courses, says Black, was usually two or three; each course was followed by a subtlety, a special dish, presented to the high table.

It is in these special dishes that medieval cooking finds its most artful, imaginative and occasionally bizarre expression. Pastry or carved sugar sculptures reflecting a theme relevant to the occasion were among the simplest variety of subtleties; another favourite was a swan or peacock, stuffed, cooked and then decorated with its original feathers, a golden crown or comb and a garland or gold chain. Even more outlandish dishes included the Cocatrice - the front half of a piglet and back half of a chicken disguised as a singly fantastic beast - or Helmeted Cock, which consisted of a chicken mounted on a pig, both roasted whole. Like many similar dishes, they were designed to amuse as well as impress. Less fantastical but no less impressive roasts might be gilded with gold leaf, or brought to the table breathing fire by the means of a little spirit-soaked cotton. Not all of these dishes were designed to be edible; their main purpose was to provide a spectacle.

Seating at a feast was usually arranged in twos; each participant shared a plate and possibly also a cup with their neighbour. A coarse brown bread called trencher was used to line plates - whether they were made of silver, tin, or earthenware - or even replace them completely. Following the meal trenchers was customarily given to the poor, or thrown to the hounds which frequently lounged about a feasting hall. Eating was accomplished with knives, spoons and fingers, as forks were latecomers to European tables and regarded with suspicion until the end of the medieval era.

However, for all their festiveness, feasts were not entirely relaxed affairs. In a society where power was gained through succession, poisoning offered any variety of opportunities for advancement; such practices were ever a point of concern at feasts. In light of this, tasters were employed to sample each dish before they were offered to the lord or his esteemed guests.

Conclusion

As seen above, the art exercised by medieval cooks was anything but limited. Their tastes in spicing may not always coincided with modern ideals - which tend to favour basic flavours rather than the combination of several - and few western cooks today would grasp the need for preparing a boar's head. However, certain basic similarities remain. Like us, our ancestors had a fondness for sweets, a craving for variety and the desire to produce food that was both satisfying, tasty and wholesome. Their methods in pursuing this last goal may sometimes be suspect - certainly modern dieticians frown on sugar, and they would doubtless also frown on the medieval tendency to waste valuable nutrients by cooking and overcooking anything vegetable-shaped. However, on the most basic of levels both medieval and modern cookery share at least one thing. In both, food is given meanings that go far beyond the mere necessity for bodily sustenance.