The Dishes leap
My week 49 and 50 of WolfCrawl
The heavy heart
On the table week 49 and 50
The Heavy Heart
I finished reading the book two weeks ago and my heart is still heavy. It's page 873 that made me cry - if you've finished reading ‘The Mirror and the Light’, you'll know what I mean, but if you haven't read it yet, brace yourself.
But even if it still hurts, I want to briefly report on what has happened on the culinary front in the last two weeks, I think that Cromwell would have wanted that. He wouldn't have tolerated sloppiness and incomplete reports.
A fortifying glass
Everyone could do with a fortifying glass, so we've had an unusual high number of mentions of drinks in the last two weeks: Spanish and Rhenish Wine, Muscatel, Malmsey, Aqua Vita and Beer.
In vino veritas.
Proditio in Thomam Wriothesley.
Still life with a glass of beer and smoked herring on a plate by Pieter Claesz, 1636
Striezel
Cromwell has Striezel baked for Anna in the bakehouses of Austin Friars in order to offer her something familiar from her homeland. I can't say exactly what it is: In Bavaria and Austria, Striezel are baked goods similar to French brioche, made from yeast dough and plaited in a braid (see painting). Cloves, cinnamon and orange peel are not used in the classic Striezel, only raisins, if at all. However, I have read that in Germany, Striezel can also refer to pastries that are filled (which would be different baked goods, called Strudel, in Bavaria and Austria).
I prefer the first option, because there is a tradition here in rural areas in Austria that the godfather or godmother gives his godchild a Striezel on All Saints' Day. (If you have such a lovely aunt as a godparent like me, you will reliably receive a home-baked Striezel on All Saints' Day for decades after the confirmation). Cromwell also acts as a kind of godfather to Anna, doing his utmost to help her settle in and keeping an eye on her (also out of self-protection, of course, as the failure of her marriage to Henry is a threat to him, but I don't think it's just because of that. He also sympathizes with this young woman far from home, who has to deal with Henry and this court).
Still Life with pastries by Francisco de Palacios, 1648
Crumb by Crumb
For almost three books, I was delighted when a meal was described in more detail as to what exactly was eaten. In the last two weeks we have three more detailed descriptions of food served, but unfortunately two of them are preceded by a disaster or have one hanging over the dinner. So my facial expression while reading about them resembled that of Gardiner, who -according to Cromwell- looked like he had swallowed tadpoles during the diner with Cromwell. The disasters (not in the culinary sense, but in terms of atmosphere and events):
When Gregory rushes to Cromwell to tell him about the fateful first meeting between Henry and Anna, his father first has something to eat brought to him: A platter of pastries, Venison and currant jelly, and horseradish, Pum and raisin.
The terrible dinner with Stephen Gardiner and the Duke of Norfolk: Capons with figs, Crustade Lombarde and chopped chicken livers with hard-boiled eggs, spiced wine custard and jellied veal. At the end of the meal pickled greens and pears in an aromatic syrup and quince marmelade are served.
Dinner by Candlelight by Georg Flegel (1566-1638)
There were also culinary horrors, only brief mentions, but that's all you want to hear about them:
Tansy Pudding: Uncle Norfolk eats this to purify his blood. He'd better do something to cleanse his soul.
Principal Pudding: It started off so well! Six pounds of currants, three hundred eggs, but then…great bricks of suet. No, thanks.
When everything falters, Thurston does not
As always, I can rely on Thurston to serve up something tasty: Saffron bread, onion tarts with raisins, baked rice with almond milk and he created a new sauce for salt fish made with garlic and walnuts.
Breakfast by Floris van Schooten, 17th century
‘…We are playing chess in the dark.’ ‘On a board made of jelly,’ he says. ‘With chessmen of butter.’ Checkmate.
The page you mention, I give it pride of place in my final post. I can't say whether I do it justice, but I do what I can. One day I will forgive the BBC for leaving out the eel boy and giving Christophe too few lines. But that day is not today.
I also finished the book early Andrea and am reassured I'm not the only one with a heavy heart. I suppose this is a real testament to Hilary Mantel, r.i.p.