Medieval Fig Pottage in Three Colors | Harley MS 279 Fygeye

.Ciij. Fygeye | Harley MS 279, 1430s | New reconstruction, August 2026

I nearly missed the best part of this recipe.

When I added .Ciij. Fygeye to an older Rapeye post in 2021, I treated it as one more fig dish: figs, ale, bread, pine nuts, cinnamon, saffron, saunders. Useful, certainly. Interesting, yes.

But I had flattened the ending into an ingredient list, and the ending is where the cook has some fun.

The base is wonderfully simple. Figs are boiled until soft, pounded, mixed with ale, thickened with grated bread, and studded with whole pine nuts. Cinnamon is scattered over it at the dresser. Then comes the flourish:

if you want, color it in three ways.

One portion can remain the natural deep brown-purple of the figs. One can be colored red with saunders. One can be turned gold with saffron.

Suddenly this is not merely a bowl of cooked figs. It is a tiny lesson in medieval table color, presentation, and the delight cooks took in making familiar ingredients look surprising.

And unlike its sweeter Rapeye cousins, this recipe asks for no added sugar at all. The figs do that work themselves.

Jump to the Modern Reconstruction

Medieval Fig & Pear Rapeye with Almond Milk | Harley MS 279

.Cxxj. Rapeye | Harley MS 279, 1430s | New reconstruction, August 2026

This poor recipe has been living in the margins of Give It Forth since 2021.

I found it while revisiting my old .Liij. Rapeye post, where I had tucked it underneath the recipe I actually cooked and given it a short ingredient list followed by the cheerful instruction, “Prepare as above.”

Except it is not prepared as above.

Not really.

The first Rapeye cooks figs and raisins in wine, pounds and strains them, then adds currants, pine nuts, sugar, and spices until the mixture is thick enough to stand. This one takes another road entirely. The figs and raisins are ground with almond milk and strained through cloth. Pears are boiled separately, peeled, cored, and pounded. The two fruit mixtures meet in the pot with wine and either dark sugar or honey, and then, just before the dish goes to the table, mace, cloves, cubebs, and grains of paradise are scattered over the top.

That is not a variation worth hiding under “prepare as above.” That is a recipe with a personality of its own.

So, eleven years after I first started wandering through Harley MS 279 and five years after I tucked this Rapeye into somebody else’s article, it finally gets its own kitchen adventure.

Jump to the Modern Reconstruction

Medieval Fig & Raisin Rapeye | Harley MS 279 Recipe

.Liij. Rapeye – Medieval Fig, Raisin, Currant & Pine Nut Pottage

Harley MS 279, 1430s | Originally published March 16, 2017 | Fully revised August 2026

Some old recipes grow when you revisit them. This one multiplied.

I first made .Liij. Rapeye in 2017: figs and raisins cooked in wine, pounded smooth, enriched with currants and pine nuts, sweetened, spiced, and served thick enough to stand. In 2021 I returned to the post and tucked two more Harley MS 279 recipes underneath it, .Cxxj. Rapeye and .Ciij. Fygeye, because they also contained figs and seemed closely related.

That was useful for comparison, but not especially kind to the recipes.

They are not three versions of the same fig sauce. One is a thick wine-and-dried-fruit pottage with pine nuts. One combines figs and raisins with almond milk and cooked pear, then finishes with an extravagant scattering of spices. The third cooks figs in ale with bread and pine nuts and can be presented in three different colors.

So in this revision I am giving them back their individual identities. This article returns to the recipe I actually cooked in 2017: .Liij. Rapeye. The pear-and-almond Rapeye and the three-colored Fygeye are becoming reconstructions of their own.

And this first Rapeye is more interesting than I gave it credit for.

Jump to the Modern Reconstruction

Pertrich Stewyde – Medieval Partridge Stuffed with Marrow and Pepper (Harley MS 279, 1430s)

Pertrich Stewyde – Medieval Partridge Stuffed with Marrow and Pepper

Harley MS 279, 1430s | Originally published March 2, 2017 | Fully revised August 2026

Sometimes revisiting an old reconstruction means discovering that the younger cook was wrong. Sometimes it means discovering that she was doing the best she could with the ingredients she could actually get.

This recipe is a little of both.

When I first reconstructed Pertrich stewyde in 2017, partridge was prohibitively expensive where I lived, marrow was not an ingredient I could easily put my hands on, and I was still learning how much information could be hidden in a few lines of Middle English. I substituted a chicken thigh, used its skin, fat, and cracked bone to enrich the broth, and recreated the stuffed shape by rolling and skewering the meat. It was a practical solution to a very real problem.

But there was one thing I misunderstood afterward. I thought the finished broth needed to be thicker.

Looking at the manuscript again, I no longer think it does.

Pertrich stewyde is not trying to become a modern gravy. It is a small game bird, filled with marrow and pepper, gently cooked in an aromatic mixture of meat broth and wine, with cloves, mace, and pepper simmered around it and ginger and saffron added just before service. Once the marrow is restored to the reconstruction, that apparently simple broth becomes part of what makes the dish interesting.

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Arbolettys: Medieval Cheese, Egg & Herb Pottage from Harleian MS 279 (c. 1430)

Arbolettys medieval recipe, Harleian MS 279 cheese recipe, medieval cheese pottage, medieval egg and herb dish, medieval cheese custard, Arbolettys reconstruction, herbelettes recipe, medieval milk and cheese recipe, parsley sage ginger galingale medieval dish

📜 New here? ✦ The Historical Kitchen ✦ Feast Menus & Dayboards ✦ Harl. MS 279 ✦ Steward’s Table

Arbolettys: Medieval Cheese, Egg & Herb Pottage from Harleian MS 279

Arbolettys reconstructed from Harleian MS 279. Original 2016 kitchen photograph retained.

Some recipes announce themselves as winter comfort food the moment you read them. Arbolettys is one of those dishes. Milk, butter, cheese, eggs, parsley, sage, ginger, and galingale do not sound like hardship food. They sound warm, rich, savory, and deeply soothing.

I first made this recipe in 2016 on a cold, gray day and described it as a cheese soup. That interpretation produced a delicious dish and earned enthusiastic approval from the taste testers. Returning to the source now, I still think the old experiment was onto something—but I would name it differently. Arbolettys is best understood as a soft, spoonable cheese, egg, and herb pottage, somewhere between a savory custard and a very thick soup.

The reason this matters is simple: this recipe is often interpreted online as a kind of scrambled egg dish. Yet the manuscript tells the cook to boil milk, butter, and cheese together first, then add eggs, herbs, and spices, and finally serve it forth. It never tells the cook to fry, bake, or dry the eggs into curds. That makes a soft pottage-style reconstruction more defensible than I realized when I first wrote about it.

Why You Will Love This Recipe

• It is simple, fast, and genuinely comforting.
• The manuscript ingredient list is short and vivid: milk, butter, cheese, eggs, parsley, sage, ginger, and galingale.
• It sits in Harleian MS 279 among the Potages dyuers, which strongly supports a spoonable interpretation.
• The title links it to a broader medieval family of herb dishes, but this version takes the idea in a richer dairy direction.
• The original 2016 reconstruction was tested and loved by even a skeptical taste tester.

Jump to the Recipe

Historical Integrity: Harleian MS 279 explicitly gives milk, butter, cheese, eggs, parsley, sage, powdered ginger, and galingale. It tells the cook to boil the milk, butter, and cheese together, add the eggs, then the herbs and spices, and serve the dish. It does not give quantities, tell us whether the eggs are whole or separated, specify the cheese, or define the final consistency. The reconstruction below is a source-led working interpretation built from the manuscript sequence, the recipe's placement among the Potages dyuers, and comparison with related medieval herb-and-egg dishes.

Quystis Scun: Medieval Wood Pigeon Pottage from Harleian MS 279 (c. 1430)

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Quystis Scun: Medieval Wood Pigeon Pottage from Harleian MS 279

AI-generated visualization of Quystis Scun for the 2026 revision. The original 2016 food photograph was deliberately retired because it did the dish no favors. This image is illustrative rather than documentary.

Quystis Scun is a fifteenth-century English pottage of wood pigeons cooked in a broth of beef or mutton, wine, and water. The birds are filled with whole pepper and marrow, cooked in the covered pot, then finished with ginger, verjuice, and salt. At service, the cook places a pigeon or two into each dish and adds a little of the broth "in the manner of a pottage."

I first reconstructed this recipe on November 17, 2016 because pigeon was difficult for me to obtain. I substituted a Cornish game hen, used prepared beef broth instead of beginning with a piece of beef or mutton, and used vinegar in place of verjuice. The result tasted much better than it photographed. The wine-stewed chicken skin became gray-purple and deeply unhelpful to anyone trying to imagine how good the dish actually was.

Nearly ten years later, returning to the source revealed a more important problem than the photograph. My original interpreted recipe accidentally omitted the marrow that is explicitly named in the manuscript. The 2026 revision restores that ingredient, returns the broth-making step to the manuscript sequence, separates verjuice from the vinegar substitution, and makes a clearer distinction between what I actually tested in 2016 and what the surviving evidence now supports.

Why You'll Love This Recipe

• It is a compact but unusually informative recipe from Harleian MS 279.
• The manuscript gives us the bird, cooking liquid, stuffing, seasonings, cooking method, and serving style.
• Whole pepper and marrow are placed inside the birds rather than simply stirred into the broth.
• Verjuice gives the finished pottage a bright sour edge against the wine and rich meat broth.
• The original Cornish hen adaptation was genuinely delicious, even if its photograph was not.

Jump to Historical Reconstruction

Historical Integrity: The main recipe below is a source-led reconstruction of Harleian MS 279. The manuscript explicitly gives beef or mutton, wine, water, wood pigeons, whole pepper, marrow, ginger, verjuice, salt, covered cooking, and brothy service. It does not provide quantities, cooking times, wine type, bird size, marrow amount, or exact proportions. The original 2016 Cornish hen adaptation was tested and enjoyed. The fully restored 2026 version has not yet been cooked as a separate controlled test, so source-led corrections are identified as such rather than presented as new kitchen results.

Venyson in Broth: Medieval Venison in Spiced Broth from Harleian MS 279

Venyson in Broth: Medieval Venison in Spiced Broth from Harleian MS 279

Venyson in Broth is a compact but revealing recipe from Harleian MS 279. Ribs of venison are washed, placed in their strained washing water, and boiled with parsley, sage, pepper, cloves, mace, vinegar, and a little red wine until done.

The receipt contains no bread thickener, almond milk, eggs, onions, or elaborate finishing sauce. The meat and its seasoned cooking liquid remain at the center of the dish. Herbs lend freshness, wine and vinegar provide acidity, and a restrained measure of warm spice gives the broth its medieval character.

When I first published this reconstruction in 2016, I combined it with the following receipt for furmenty. Returning to the manuscript makes the division clearer. Venyson in Broth is recipe xxij. Venyson with Furmenty follows as recipe xxiij and gives a separate method for preparing the wheat. They belong together at the table, but each deserves its own reconstruction.

Why You Will Love This Recipe

• It places venison at the center rather than burying it beneath a heavy sauce.
• Parsley, sage, wine, vinegar, pepper, cloves, and mace create a bright, aromatic broth.
• The recipe demonstrates how medieval cooks balanced herbs, acidity, and warm spice.
• It can be reconstructed with venison ribs or practical boneless stew meat.
• It pairs naturally with saffron-colored furmenty, bread, or another mild grain dish.

Jump to the Modern Recipe

Historical Integrity: The surviving receipt, historical interpretation, tested reconstruction, and modern food-safety accommodations are identified separately. The practical recipe uses fresh water rather than reusing raw-meat washing water.

Furmenty (Frumenty): Medieval Creamy Wheat Dish from Harleian MS 279

Furmenty (Frumenty): A Medieval Creamy Wheat Dish from Harleian MS 279

Furmenty, now more often written frumenty, is a wheat dish cooked until the grain becomes tender, swollen, and creamy. In Harleian MS 279, the wheat is cleaned, dampened, pounded, winnowed, boiled until it breaks, enriched with fresh milk, colored with saffron, and seasoned with salt.

It is a simple recipe, but not an insignificant one. Harleian MS 279 is a selected culinary collection, and furmenty was important enough to receive a distinct receipt and a defined method. Its inclusion beside venison reminds us that the grand medieval table did not rest upon spectacular meats and costly spices alone. It also depended upon cooks who understood grain, heat, texture, and timing.

When I first reconstructed this dish in 2016, I used Kamut-brand khorasan wheat. Its large grains produced a substantial, pleasantly nutty dish rather than a smooth modern breakfast cereal. Returning to the manuscript years later changed how I explain the recipe and where I place the saffron, but it did not change my conviction that furmenty deserves to be understood as a preparation in its own right.

Why You Will Love This Recipe

• It uses a short ingredient list to create a rich and satisfying historical dish.
• It preserves the texture of softened, broken wheat rather than turning the recipe into instant cereal.
• It explains why a basic grain preparation mattered in a fifteenth-century culinary collection.
• It can be served with venison, beef, fish, or another savory medieval dish.
• It includes both the manuscript method and a clearly labeled practical reconstruction.

Jump to the Modern Recipe

Historical Integrity: The manuscript evidence, historical interpretation, tested modern reconstruction, and practical substitutions are identified separately. The main household recipe uses soaking as a practical substitute for the manuscript's labor-intensive pounding and winnowing process.

Beef y-Stywyd | Medieval English Stewed Beef from Harleian MS. 279 (c. 1430)

Beef y-Stywyd | Medieval English Stewed Beef
Harleian MS. 279 (c. 1430)

Search Description: Discover Beef y-Stywyd, a richly spiced medieval English beef pottage from Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430), faithfully reconstructed for today's kitchen.

Beef y-Stywyd reconstructed from Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430).

Some historical recipes preserve forgotten techniques. Others surprise us because they taste remarkably familiar despite the centuries that separate us from the cooks who first prepared them. Beef y-Stywyd accomplishes both, and after years of historical cooking it remains one of my favorite medieval recipes to prepare whenever the grocery budget allows.

The first time I served this dish, nearly everyone at the table commented that it reminded them of Cincinnati-style chili. At first that comparison seems impossible. This recipe was written in England around 1430, centuries before Cincinnati existed. Yet once the cinnamon, cloves, vinegar, herbs, and slow-simmered beef come together, the resemblance becomes surprisingly understandable. Medieval cooks understood how to layer warm spices and acidity in ways that still resonate with modern palates.

Recorded in Harleian MS. 279, Beef y-Stywyd is a beautifully balanced beef pottage combining forequarter beef, onions, parsley, sage, imported spices, saffron, vinegar, and bread into a rich, fragrant dish. Although historically classified as a pottage, it is substantial enough to serve as the centerpiece of a rustic feast or tavern meal.

Wardonys in Syryp: Medieval Pears in Spiced Wine Syrup

Wardonys in Syryp

Medieval Pears in Spiced Wine Syrup from Harleian MS 279 (c. 1430)

Wardonys in Syryp, a fifteenth-century dish of pears simmered in a spiced red wine syrup until both poynaunt and dowcet: pleasantly sharp and sweet.

Wardonys in Syryp is a medieval pear dish from Harleian MS 279, a fifteenth-century English culinary manuscript preserved in Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books. Firm cooking pears are first softened, then simmered in red wine with cinnamon, sugar, ginger, vinegar, and saffron.

Today, we might recognize the dish as a poached pear in red wine, but the manuscript asks for something more carefully judged than a modern dessert. The syrup is not meant to be merely sweet. Its final flavor should be both poynaunt and dowcet, sharp enough to awaken the palate and sweet enough to round the wine and spice.

This is not a modern poached pear wearing a medieval cloak. It is a historical reconstruction built from the surviving manuscript, comparison with related fifteenth-century pear recipes, the original kitchen testing behind this article, and the practical question that guides my work: What is the cook doing between the written lines?

The result is wine-dark, fragrant, warmly spiced, and brightened with vinegar. The pear becomes tender without losing its shape, while the syrup gathers cinnamon, ginger, saffron, sugar, wine, and acidity into something far more complex than the short ingredient list suggests.

Why You’ll Love This Recipe

• It is an approachable reconstruction from Harleian MS 279.
• It uses familiar ingredients while preserving a distinctly medieval sweet-sour flavor.
• It introduces the period idea of a dish being both poynaunt and dowcet.
• It can be served as a pottage or first-course fruit dish, or as part of a banquet and final course.
• It may be prepared ahead, making it practical for a feast, class, dayboard, or modern dinner.

Jump to the Modern Recipe

Historical Integrity

The main recipe below is my historical reconstruction. Modern substitutions and dietary accommodations appear afterward and are clearly labeled, allowing readers to distinguish the manuscript-based dish from later adaptations.

Rede Rose: A Medieval Rose Custard (Medieval Rose Pudding) from Harleian MS 279

Rede Rose: A Medieval Rose Custard from Harleian MS 279

Rede Rose is a delicate rose custard from Harleian MS 279, a fifteenth-century English culinary manuscript preserved in Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books. It belongs to a small family of medieval flower pottages made with almond milk, blossoms, sugar, and gentle thickeners.

Today, many readers would recognize Rede Rose as a medieval rose pudding or medieval rose custard, although the fifteenth-century manuscript simply calls the dish Rede Rose.

This is not simply a modern rose pudding with a medieval name pinned to its apron. It is a historical reconstruction built from a very short manuscript instruction, comparison with the related recipe for Vyolet, and repeated kitchen testing.

When I reconstruct a medieval recipe, I try to read the manuscript as though I am standing beside an experienced cook while another person records only the details worth remembering. Instead of asking, "What instructions are missing?", I ask, "What is the cook doing between the written lines?"

The result is velvety, lightly sweet, and fragrant without being overwhelming. Three taste testers and I fought over this custard, which is always a good sign that the medieval kitchen has sent us something worth keeping.

Why You'll Love This Recipe

• It is a short, approachable recipe from Harleian MS 279.
• It uses only four ingredients in the historical reconstruction.
• It introduces medieval flower cookery without requiring rare equipment.
• It can be served warm, chilled, or slightly loose as a sauce over berries.
• It shows how a brief medieval recipe can become a confident, cookable reconstruction.

Jump to Modern Recipe

Historical Integrity: The main recipe below is the historical reconstruction. Modern adaptations are placed afterward and clearly marked, so readers can see what remains historically faithful, what is historically inspired, and what is a modern accommodation for allergies, dietary needs, or ingredient availability.

Vyolette: A 15th-Century Violet Almond Custard from Harleian MS. 279

Vyolette: A 15th-Century Violet Custard from Harleian MS. 279

Vyolette, a delicate medieval custard celebrating one of spring's most cherished flowers.

First published: April 20, 2016
Updated: June 26, 2026

Among the first flowers to announce the return of spring, few were as admired by medieval gardeners, physicians, and cooks as the fragrant March Violet. Long before edible flowers became fashionable in modern kitchens, sweet violets were cultivated for their beauty, preserved in syrups and conserves, infused into oils and honey, and transformed into elegant dishes such as this remarkable custard from Harleian MS. 279.

Unlike many modern floral desserts that rely upon extracts or artificial flavorings, Vyolette asks the cook to work directly with fresh blossoms. The flowers are gently cooked, pressed, and blended into almond milk before being thickened into a silky custard. The result is subtle rather than perfumed, allowing the delicate fragrance of the violet itself to remain the centerpiece of the dish.

Historical Context

The flower called for in this recipe was almost certainly the Sweet or March Violet (Viola odorata), a plant prized throughout medieval Europe for both its fragrance and its versatility. Writing in A Nievve Herball (1554), Rembert Dodoens distinguished the richly scented garden violet from its weaker wild cousin, describing the cultivated flower as possessing a "very pleasant and amiable smell." He notes that these violets flowered in March and April, giving rise to the familiar English name "March Violet."

The Sweet or March Violet (Viola odorata) from Rembert Dodoens' A Nievve Herball (1554).

By the early seventeenth century, John Parkinson observed that generations of careful cultivation had produced garden violets that were "fairer in colour, and peradventure of a better scent than when they grew wild." His descriptions of single, double, white, and purple March Violets reveal that these flowers were not merely gathered from hedgerows but intentionally grown in gardens for both ornament and household use.

Our companion article, Of March Violets: Medicinal and Culinary Lore, explores the rich botanical, culinary, and medicinal history of this remarkable flower, including period herbals, violet syrup, violet honey, and additional historical recipes.

Household Context

Fresh violets were among the earliest gifts of spring, making them a naturally seasonal ingredient. Le Ménagier de Paris, the late fourteenth-century household guide known in English as The Good Wife's Guide, instructs gardeners to lift violet plants into pots before winter and shelter them in a cellar or protected place during severe frosts. During mild days the plants were carried back into the fresh air and watered carefully before being returned indoors. Such advice demonstrates that prosperous households deliberately cultivated violets rather than relying solely upon wild flowers.

The same household tradition also records violets decorating elegant dishes. One recipe for aspic jelly directs the cook to garnish each serving with white violets, pomegranate, bay leaves, and colorful dragées before presentation. These references remind us that medieval cooks valued flowers not only for their flavor but also for the beauty they brought to the feast table.

Luxury household accounts likewise record the purchase of violets alongside costly imported sugar, mastic, and spices, illustrating that fragrant flowers were considered worthy companions to some of the finest ingredients available to elite kitchens.

The Manuscript

This recipe appears as .Cxxv. Vyolette in Harleian MS. 279, one of the most important surviving collections of fifteenth-century English cookery. Unlike the manuscript's other recipe for Vyolette, which combines violets with dried fruits, warming spices, and saffron to create a substantial almond pottage, this version is remarkably restrained. It allows the flower itself to remain the principal flavor, supported only by almond milk, a starch thickener, and sugar or honey.

The manuscript also offers an interesting choice between almond milk and "good cow's milk," reminding us that medieval cooks readily adapted recipes to both the liturgical calendar and the resources available in their own kitchens. Almond milk was especially common during fasting periods, while fresh dairy was equally acceptable when dietary restrictions permitted.

The Original Recipe

.Cxxv. Vyolette. — Take Flourys of Vyolet, boyle hem, presse hem, bray hem smal, temper hem vppe with Almaunde mylke, or gode Cowe Mylke, a-lye it with Amyndoun or Flowre of Rys; take Sugre y-now, an putte þer-to, or hony in defaute; coloure it with þe same þat þe flowrys be on y-peyntid a-boue.

Translation

Take violet flowers, boil them, press them, and grind them finely. Mix them with almond milk or good cow's milk, then thicken the mixture with amidon or rice flour. Add enough sugar, or honey if sugar is unavailable. Color the finished dish to resemble the violet flowers themselves.

Smale Byrdys y-stwyde - Small Birds Stewed in Wine and Spices

Harleian MS 279, about 1430, Smale Byrdys y-stwyde - Small Birds Stewed

Originally published April 18, 2016. Updated June 2026.

Medieval cooks were practical cooks. A recipe did not always name a single bird, cut of meat, or exact modern equivalent because the medieval kitchen often worked with what the household, market, dovecote, poultry yard, or hunt provided. Smale Byrdys y-stwyde, or “Small Birds Stewed,” from Harleian MS 279 is one of those wonderfully flexible recipes.

The instruction is not for chicken alone, nor for one specific game bird. It is a method for preparing small birds in a richly seasoned wine sauce. The birds are first fried, then drained, then returned to a pot with onions, wine, cinnamon, cloves, mace, pepper, saffron, sugar, ginger, and salt. In modern terms, this is less a plain stew and more a medieval braise: browned meat finished gently in a fragrant cooking liquor.

This recipe belongs to the same family of sauced poultry dishes as several other recipes in Harleian MS 279, including Gelyne in Dubbatte - Chicken in Wine Sauce, Henne in Bokenade - Stewed Chicken in Sauce, Pertrich y-stwyde - Partridge Stewed, and Quystis Scun. What makes Smale Byrdys especially interesting is the breadth of the title. It assumes a kitchen familiar with many kinds of birds and gives a flexible method rather than a narrowly fixed recipe.

Brawn en Peuerade | Medieval Pork Pottage in Pepper Sauce (Harleian MS 279)

Brawn en Peuerade, a medieval pork pottage in pepper sauce from Harleian MS 279.

Originally published March 11, 2016. Updated June 24, 2026 with expanded historical notes, seasonality discussion, pottage classification, internal links, and a copy-friendly modern reconstruction.

Brawn en Peuerade is a fifteenth-century English pork pottage from Harleian MS 279. The dish combines pork, wine, onions, vinegar, pepper, ginger, and warming spices into a sharply flavored pepper sauce that the manuscript tells us should be "as potage shulde be."

That phrase matters. Although the modern title may sound like a meat dish with sauce, the original recipe gives us a strong clue about its intended texture and service. It should be neither too thick nor too thin, but spoonable, saucy, and substantial. For that reason, this recipe belongs among Pottages & First Course Dishes rather than among dry roasted, fried, grilled, or baked meats.

Gelyne in Dubbatte: Medieval Chicken in Wine Sauce | Harleian MS 279 (c.1430)

Originally published January 23, 2016. Updated June 23, 2026.

This post has been updated as part of the 2026 Give It Forth recipe glow-up project, with expanded historical notes, revised feast placement discussion, improved formatting, internal links, and modern reconstruction guidance. AI-assisted editing was used for organization and clarity.

Gelyne in Dubatte, a medieval chicken dish finished in wine, broth, spices, vinegar, and bread-thickened sauce.

Some medieval recipes look simple at first glance, then open like a trapdoor into a much larger kitchen. Gelyne in Dubatte, from Harleian MS 279, is one of those dishes.

At its most basic, this is chicken cooked in broth, wine, spices, vinegar, and bread. Yet the recipe sits at the crossroads of roast meat, pottage, and sauce-making. The chicken is first roasted almost done, then cut into pieces and finished in a seasoned liquid thickened with bread. The result may be served as a brothy pottage, a spoonable stew, or a richer sauced dish laid over sops of bread.

When I first interpreted this recipe in 2016, I leaned toward a brothier version. Revisiting the title, manuscript placement, and Thomas Austin's glossary has made me appreciate how flexible this dish may have been. The sauce is not an afterthought. It may be the heart of the recipe.

Papyns: Medieval Comfort Food for Breakfast, Babies, and the Infirm

Papyns: Medieval Custard for Breakfast, Babies, and the Infirm

First published January 4, 2016. Updated June 19, 2026.

Papyns with bread, a soft milk-and-egg pottage from Harleian MS 279.

Papyns is medieval comfort food: soft, warm, mild, and easy to eat. Found in Harleian MS 279, this fifteenth-century dish combines milk, flour, egg yolks, sugar, and salt into a smooth custard-like pottage served “rennyng,” or flowing.

Modern readers may think of it as a cross between custard, cream of wheat, and breakfast cereal. It is not flashy feast food. It is gentle food: the kind of dish that makes sense for children, elders, the sick, or anyone needing nourishment that does not ask too much of the teeth or stomach.

That simplicity is exactly what makes Papyns important. It gives us a glimpse of medieval food beyond roasts, pies, and elaborate subtleties. This is the food of care, recovery, and ordinary comfort.

Why this recipe matters: Papyns shows how medieval cooks made soft, nourishing foods for people who needed gentle meals. Its smooth texture and mild ingredients made it suitable for breakfast, children, the elderly, and the infirm.

Murrey: A Mulberry-Colored Medieval Pottage from Harleian MS 279

First published February 7, 2016. Updated June 19, 2026.

Murrey served over sops of bread. The rich reddish-purple color appears to have been one of the defining characteristics of this family of medieval dishes.

Medieval cooks paid attention to color in ways that modern diners often overlook. Color was not merely decoration. It could signal status, season, symbolism, feast day, humor, or even the identity of a dish.

Murrey is a perfect example. At first glance, the Harleian MS 279 recipe looks like a thick meat preparation made from pork, veal, broth, bread, honey, ginger, galangal, and saunders. When I first reconstructed it in 2016, I described it as another meat sauce. Years later, with more manuscript evidence in hand, I think that interpretation was too narrow.

Murrey appears to belong to a wider medieval tradition of color-defined dishes. The word itself refers to a dark reddish-purple, mulberry-like color. Related recipes appear in several medieval sources, sometimes made with almonds and wine, sometimes with meat, sometimes with actual mulberries, and sometimes adapted for fish days or flesh days. What unites them is not a single ingredient list, but a color, a texture, and a culinary idea.

Why this recipe matters: Murrey is more than a medieval meat dish. It appears to be part of a family of mulberry-colored preparations that show how medieval cooks used color to define food. The Harleian version is best understood as a thick pottage rather than a modern sauce.

Cawdelle Ferry: A Medieval Wine Caudle from Harleian MS 279 (c. 1430)

Cawdelle Ferry: A Medieval Wine Caudle from Harleian MS 279

First published February 2, 2016. Updated June 19, 2026.

Cawdelle Ferry, a spiced wine caudle thickened with egg yolks.

Cawdelle Ferry is one of those medieval recipes that refuses to sit politely in a modern category. It is made from wine, egg yolks, sugar, saffron, and spices. It is warmed gently, stirred until thick, and served with white powder scattered over the top.

In the original version of this article, I described it as a wine pudding. That was not entirely wrong, but it was incomplete. Cawdelle Ferry is better understood as a medieval caudle: a warm, often restorative preparation that could range from drinkable to spoonable depending on how it was thickened.

What makes this recipe especially interesting is that it was not a one-off curiosity. Versions of Cawdelle Ferry appear across English culinary manuscripts for more than a century, using wine, sugar or honey, saffron, egg yolks, bread, almonds, starch, rice flour, raisins, and spices. This is not just a recipe. It is a recipe family.

Why this recipe matters: Cawdelle Ferry helps us understand the medieval caudle as something more complex than a hot drink. Across several manuscripts, it appears as a fortified wine preparation thickened into a rich, nourishing dish that sits somewhere between drink, pottage, custard, and pudding.

Lyode Soppes: One of England's Earliest Bread Puddings

Lyode Soppes: A 15th-Century Bread Pudding from Harleian MS 279

First published January 13, 2016. Updated June 19, 2026.

Lyode Soppes, a sweet custard pottage served over fine white bread.

If modern bread pudding has a medieval ancestor, Lyode Soppes is one of the strongest candidates I have found. Recorded in Harleian MS 279 around 1430, this dish combines rounds of fine white bread with a gently thickened custard of milk, egg yolks, sugar, and salt.

But is it truly bread pudding, or is it better understood as a sweet custard pottage? The answer is, deliciously, both. Lyode Soppes is not baked like modern bread pudding. The bread is cut into round sops, placed in a dish, and covered with warm custard. The manuscript itself tells us to serve it “for a potage.”

This has long been one of my favorite breakfast recipes from the manuscript. It is simple, comforting, and surprisingly familiar. Across nearly six centuries, bread, milk, eggs, and sugar still know how to sit together at the table.

Why this recipe matters: Lyode Soppes documents bread served with custard in a fifteenth-century English cookbook. It is best understood as a sweet custard pottage, but it also sits very close to what modern cooks would recognize as an early form of bread pudding.

Creme Boylede – A Luxurious Medieval Boiled Custard from Harleian MS 279

Creme Boylede garnished with pomegranate seeds

Originally published January 11, 2016. Updated June 2026.

Creme Boylede is a rich medieval boiled custard made from cream or milk, bread, egg yolks, butter, sugar, and salt. It appears in Harleian MS 279, a fifteenth-century English cookery manuscript dated to about 1430, and it is one of those recipes that looks simple until you begin asking what kind of dish it actually was.

Modern diners are likely to read the ingredients and think “dessert.” A medieval cook may have understood it differently. The recipe appears among the pottages, but it also instructs the cook to serve the finished custard “in manner of mortrewys,” linking it to a style of thick, carefully prepared dishes that could function as special dishes or entremets. That makes Creme Boylede a beautiful little category-goblin: part custard, part pottage, part feast-table luxury.

It is also delicious. The bread is soaked in cream or milk, warmed, strained, and then enriched with egg yolks, butter, sugar, and salt. The result is smooth, sweet, and comforting, with the texture of a soft custard and the thrift of a medieval kitchen hiding under all that cream.