🌸 Suger Plate - Medieval Sugar Candy with Flowers

Originally published 5/10/2015 - Updated 5/27/2026

Sugar plate looks simple at first glance: sugar, rosewater, a little water, and flowers. In practice, it is a small master class in medieval sugarwork. It asks the cook to understand heat, texture, timing, humidity, and the mysterious moment when syrup becomes candy.

When I first made this recipe, I worked from the version in Pleyn Delit. I originally associated it with Harleian MS. 279, but while revisiting the recipe for this update I traced the attribution more carefully. In the second edition of Pleyn Delit, the recipe is identified as GK13, which points to Goud Kokery, recipe 13, preserved in Harleian MS. 2378 and printed in Curye on Inglysch.

That discovery changed the way I read the recipe. The original Middle English text does not describe a modern hard candy in thermometer language. Instead, it tells the cook to test the sugar between the fingers, remove it from the fire, stir it, work it, and make the “plate.” That suggests a softer, worked confection may be closer to the historical method, though the hard-crack version is still beautiful for feast display.

Violet petals preserved in sugar plate. The clearer amber candy was cooked to hard crack; the paler version was cooked lower and beaten.

What Is Sugar Plate?

Sugar plate is a medieval confection made by cooking clarified sugar, flavoring it, and forming it into a sheet or slab. The word “plate” here does not mean a dinner plate. It means a flat piece, layer, or formed sheet of sugar.

This is different from sugar paste. Sugar paste is usually a kneadable mixture used for molded or sculpted sugarwork, often involving a binder such as gum tragacanth. Sugar plate, by contrast, begins as cooked sugar and is poured or worked into a flat confection.

In a medieval feast setting, sugar plate belonged to the same elegant world as comfits, preserved fruits, marchpane, wafers, and subtlety work. It was sweet, scented, decorative, and expensive enough to make a statement. A small dish of rose-scented sugar with flowers would have been both dessert and table ornament.

The Source Trail: From Pleyn Delit Back to Goud Kokery

This recipe began for me with Pleyn Delit, but the revised edition gives the source as GK13. That abbreviation refers to Goud Kokery, one of the Middle English recipe collections included in Curye on Inglysch. The printed source identifies the recipe as Suger plate, from Harleian MS. 2378.

Finding the original mattered because it changed how I interpreted the cooking process. The modern recipe gives a practical adaptation, but the Middle English instructions are more revealing about texture and technique.

Original source: Suger plate, GK13, from Goud Kokery in Curye on Inglysch, Harleian MS. 2378.

Modern interpretation: The Pleyn Delit version used for my original kitchen testing.

You can explore the digitized source here: Curye on Inglysch, page 152, “Suger Plate” .

What the Original Recipe Tells Us

The original recipe gives several clues that are important for a modern cook:

• It begins with clarified sugar.
• The sugar is tested between the fingers, not with a thermometer.
• The cook is told to avoid letting it become too stiff.
• The sugar is removed from the fire and stirred.
• Rosewater is added after cooking.
• The sugar is worked or formed into a “plate.”

This makes me think the historical preparation was probably not a clear, glassy hard-crack candy in the modern lollipop sense. It seems more likely to have been a worked sugar confection, cooked to a stage where it could still be stirred, handled, flavored, and formed.

That does not make the hard-crack version wrong as a modern feast interpretation. It is beautiful, dramatic, and useful for display. But if I were choosing the version that feels closest to the manuscript process, I would choose the softer worked sugar plate.

Medieval Sugar Stages for Modern Cooks

Modern candy recipes usually give temperatures. Medieval recipes usually do not. Instead, cooks judged sugar by appearance, texture, behavior, and touch. That is why older confectionery language includes terms such as thread, pearl, feather, ball, and crack.

The exact temperatures below are modern approximations. They are useful for home cooks, but historical cooks would have relied on experience and physical tests.

Stage	Approx. Temp.	What It Does	Modern Use
Thread	223–235°F	Forms thin threads from spoon or fingers	Syrups, preserves
Pearl / Blow	230–240°F	Thick syrup, bubbles, stronger strands	Candied fruits, soft sugarwork
Soft Ball	235–240°F	Forms a soft ball in cold water	Fondant, fudge-like candies
Firm Ball	245–250°F	Forms a firmer but pliable ball	Caramels, chewy candies
Hard Ball	250–265°F	Holds shape but remains chewy	Nougat, divinity-style candies
Soft Crack	270–290°F	Forms flexible brittle threads	Taffy, butterscotch
Hard Crack	300–310°F	Sets hard and glass-like	Lollipops, brittle, clear candy
Caramel	320°F and above	Sugar browns and develops caramel flavor	Caramelized sugar

For this recipe, the manuscript clues point most strongly toward the thread, pearl, or soft-ball range rather than hard crack. In testing, about 230°F produced a softer, paler sugar plate that could be beaten and worked before setting.

Humoral Notes: Sugar, Rosewater, and Flowers

Medieval sweets often lived at the border between food and medicine. Sugar was valued not only for sweetness, but also for its usefulness in medicinal preparations, preserves, and digestive confections.

Rosewater adds another layer. Roses were associated with cooling and comforting properties, especially for the heart and stomach. Violets were also often understood as cooling and soothing. A rose-scented sugar confection served at the end of a meal therefore made sense as both pleasure and digestive finish.

For a modern cook, this helps explain why such a small sweet could matter. Sugar plate was not meant to be eaten by the handful. It was a fragrant, elegant closing bite: sweet, floral, and showy enough to belong on a banquet table.

Modern Recipe: Sugar Plate with Edible Flowers

I am including two modern approaches below. The softer worked version is the one I now think is closest to the manuscript process. The hard-crack version is a useful feast-table adaptation when you want clear, dramatic candy with flowers suspended inside.

Ingredients

• 2 cups sugar
• Enough water to thoroughly wet the sugar
• 2 tablespoons rosewater
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice, optional, to help reduce crystallization
• Edible flowers or petals, such as violets, roses, pinks, calendula, borage, or lavender
• Confectioner’s sugar, rice flour, or lightly oiled parchment for preventing sticking

Equipment

• Heavy-bottomed saucepan
• Reliable candy thermometer, preferably digital
• Heat-safe spatula
• Parchment paper or a marble slab
• Rimmed baking sheet or shallow candy molds

Safety note: Hot sugar syrup is dangerous. It sticks to skin and burns deeply. Keep children and pets away from the stove, use care while pouring, and do not taste until fully cooled.

Version 1: Softer Worked Sugar Plate

This is the version I now favor as the more historically plausible interpretation. It produces a pale, opaque, rose-scented sugar confection rather than a clear hard candy.

Method

1. Prepare your work surface. Line a baking sheet with parchment, or prepare a clean marble slab. Dust very lightly with rice flour or confectioner’s sugar if needed.
2. Prepare the flowers. Use only edible, unsprayed flowers. Remove stems and green parts. Petals are easier to use than whole blossoms.
3. Dissolve the sugar. Place the sugar in a heavy saucepan with just enough water to wet it thoroughly. Add lemon juice if using. Heat gently, stirring until the sugar dissolves.
4. Cook the syrup. Increase the heat and cook to about 230°F. This is in the thread to soft-ball neighborhood, not hard crack.
5. Remove from heat. Let the syrup cool slightly, then stir in the rosewater carefully. It may steam or bubble.
6. Beat and work the sugar. Stir with a heat-safe spatula as it cools. The sugar will begin to thicken and turn paler.
7. Add flowers. When the sugar is no longer violently hot but still workable, fold in the petals.
8. Form the plate. Pour or spread the sugar onto the prepared surface before it becomes too stiff.
9. Cool and serve. Let set fully, then cut or break into small pieces.

The result is softer and more delicate than modern hard candy. It is also more sensitive to humidity, so store it carefully between layers of parchment in an airtight container.

Version 2: Clear Hard-Crack Sugar Plate

This version is less likely to be the exact historical method for GK13, but it is beautiful and practical if you want a dramatic display candy. Flowers suspended in clear amber sugar look like tiny stained-glass windows.

Method

1. Line a rimmed baking sheet with lightly oiled parchment.
2. Scatter edible petals across the parchment, or have them ready to add just before pouring.
3. Cook the sugar syrup to 300°F.
4. Do not stir once the sugar has dissolved, as stirring can encourage crystallization.
5. Pour quickly over the petals or into molds.
6. Let cool completely before breaking into pieces.

This version sets rapidly. Work quickly, and do not try to handle the sugar while it is hot.

Kitchen Testing Notes

My first two attempts at hard-crack sugar plate were unsuccessful. I tested using the cold-water method, but both batches resulted in a soft, gummy candy. After that, I bought a digital thermometer, and the third attempt finally produced the clear amber candy I had been trying to make.

The lesson was immediate: sugarwork rewards accuracy. Humidity, pan size, water amount, heat level, and thermometer reliability all affect the finished candy. Medieval cooks would have learned these stages by experience. Modern cooks can absolutely learn the same skills, but a thermometer makes the learning curve less sticky.

I also tested the lower-temperature version because the manuscript wording seemed to suggest a pourable but not overly stiff candy. That batch was cooked to about 230°F and beaten as it cooled. I added petals of violets and pinks after the sugar began to turn pale.

Both versions were beautiful, and both were approved by my team of test teenagers. I had dim hope there would be leftovers based on the amount consumed by the test subjects. There were not many leftovers. This is, in my opinion, a successful sign.

Which Version Should You Make?

If you are making sugar plate for the first time, I recommend starting with the softer worked version. It is closer to the manuscript clues and gives you a better sense of how medieval sugar cookery worked by texture.

If you are making this for a feast display, a dessert board, or a dramatic final-course sweet, the hard-crack version is lovely. It may be less historically exact, but it creates a beautiful edible decoration.

Version	Temperature	Result	Best Use
Worked sugar plate	About 230°F	Pale, softer, opaque	Historical reconstruction, small sweets
Hard-crack flower candy	300°F	Clear, amber, brittle	Feast display, decorative shards

Flowers for Sugar Plate

Edible flowers turn sugar plate from simple candy into feast art. Use only flowers that are safe to eat and have not been sprayed with pesticides or florist preservatives.

Good Choices

• Violets
• Rose petals
• Pinks or dianthus petals
• Calendula petals
• Borage flowers
• Lavender blossoms, used sparingly

Delicate petals may discolor in very hot sugar, so add them late. For the hard-candy version, scattering petals onto parchment and pouring the syrup over them may preserve their shape better than stirring them into the pot.

For SCA Feasts, Classes, and Historical Demonstrations

Sugar plate is a useful recipe for teaching historical cooking because it shows how much older recipes depend on observation. The original does not give a thermometer reading. It gives behavior: test the sugar, watch the texture, stir it, and do not let it become too stiff.

• For a class: Make both versions and let people compare texture.
• For feast service: Serve small pieces with wafers, comfits, preserved fruit, or marchpane.
• For display: Use the hard-crack version for dramatic translucent shards.
• For historical discussion: Use the softer version to talk about sugar stages before thermometers.
• For transport: Pack pieces between parchment and keep dry.
• For humid weather: Store airtight and avoid leaving the candy uncovered for long periods.

Dietary Notes 🥕

• Vegetarian: Yes
• Vegan: Yes, assuming vegan sugar is used
• Gluten-Free: Yes
• Dairy-Free: Yes
• Egg-Free: Yes
• Common Allergens: None inherent, but confirm flower safety and possible cross-contact

Serving Suggestions

• Serve as part of a banquet or final course with comfits, wafers, marchpane, and preserved fruits.
• Break hard-crack sugar plate into irregular shards and arrange them on a small plate.
• Cut or mold the softer worked version into small pieces once it has set.
• Use rose petals for a romantic final-course sweet, or violets for a spring feast.
• Package small pieces in paper twists or tiny dishes for an event treat.

...

Sources

• Hieatt, Constance B. Pleyn Delit: Medieval Cookery for Modern Cooks. 2nd ed. University of Toronto Press, 1996. See “Sugar Plate,” p. 175, attributed to GK13.
• Hieatt, Constance B., and Sharon Butler, eds. Curye on Inglysch. Early English Text Society, 1985. “Suger Plate,” GK13, from Goud Kokery, Harleian MS. 2378.
• Internet Archive record for Curye on Inglysch

AI Assistance Disclosure

AI Assistance Disclosure: Historical transcription, formatting, and redaction support were provided with the help of AI tools for research and editing. Some images were created or edited with AI tools. All historical interpretation and final text are curated and verified by the editor of Give It Forth.

To Make Callishones – Elizabethan Coriander Marchpane Candies (John Murrell, 1621)

Callishones drying on the stovetop — fragrant marchpane sweets gilded with coriander and gold dust.

Updated: October 30, 2025 | Originally Published: 9/17/2015

Part of the Baronial 12th Night series.

To Make Callishones – Coriander-Scented Marchpane Candies

This elegant sweetmeat comes from John Murrell’s A Daily Exercise for Ladies and Gentlewomen (1621), a household guide filled with refined banqueting recipes — comfits, marchpanes, fruit pastes, and perfumed lozenges meant to close an Elizabethan feast. Callishones (or calysons) were pressed from almond paste and spiced with coriander and musk, then dried into aromatic lozenges.

The Elizabethan Banqueting Course

In the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras, a banqueting course was a distinct final act of a feast — a separate table laden with sugarwork, spiced wines, candied fruits, comfits, and perfumed pastes. These dishes were not meant to fill the stomach but to delight the senses and demonstrate refinement.

The fashion for such displays began in the Tudor court and reached its height under Elizabeth I, when sugar was imported from Madeira, the Azores, and later the Caribbean. Wealthy hosts commissioned sugar plate sculptures and marchpane castles, while smaller households imitated them with printed or molded sweets like callishones. The very word “banquet” came to mean not a meal, but a ceremonial table of confections.

Surviving accounts from royal and noble households show that banqueting rooms were sometimes separate from dining halls — built atop towers or in garden pavilions — so that guests could “walk to the banquet” after dinner and admire both the view and the artistry of the table.

How to Make Elizabethan Fruit Pastes & Marmalades (Quince, Peach & Plum)

Paste of quince (amber), apricot (yellow), and strawberries (red).

Originally published: December 2020
Updated: October 24, 2025

Sweet Preserves for a Banquet Table

In the Elizabethan era, fruit pastes—sometimes called marmalades or “chardequynce”—were glittering jewels of sugar, fruit, and spice. They appeared at the close of grand meals as part of the banqueting course, alongside marchpane, candied spices, and comfits. Far from our modern breakfast spreads, these were confections of luxury—delicate, perfumed, and designed as edible art.

My earliest experiment with fruit paste was a quince paste, followed by a Spanish-style marmalade made with dates, powdered pearls, and gold leaf. Since then, I’ve made pastes of apples, raspberries, strawberries, apricots, and plums. For our Baronial Twelfth Night, the table featured a full assortment of these sparkling fruits.

Historical Context

The first fruit pastes appear in late medieval manuscripts such as *A Leechbook* (Royal Medical Society MS 136, c.1444) and continue into the Tudor and Elizabethan printed cookbooks like A.W.’s A Book of Cookrye (1587) and John Partridge’s The Treasurie of Commodious Conceits (1573). These recipes often recommend honey or sugar as preservatives, with quinces or wardens (a firm pear) providing natural pectin. Sugar was believed to “close the stomach” and aid digestion—so these confections were thought medicinal as well as delightful.

By the late 16th century, “marmalade” had expanded beyond quince to include peaches, plums, and even medlars. Unlike modern spreads, these were boiled until firm and cut into decorative shapes, sometimes impressed with moulds and dusted with sugar to gleam like gemstones.

The very word marmalade comes from the Portuguese marmelada, meaning a preserve of quince (marmelo). It entered English through imported Iberian sweetmeats and gradually expanded to mean any thick fruit conserve. Only in the 17th century did citrus marmalades—especially bitter orange—become fashionable in England.

Sugar, Trade, and Luxury

In the 1400s and early 1500s, sugar was a costly import from Mediterranean trade routes, used sparingly in medicines and aristocratic kitchens. By Elizabeth’s reign, Caribbean plantations and new trade networks made sugar more available, transforming what had been a medicinal luxury into a fashionable indulgence. Elaborate sugarwork became a mark of refinement—these pastes were served on gilded dishes at banquets to showcase both taste and status.

Period Tools & Presentation

Household inventories list *marmalet boxes*—small wooden or pewter containers used to store fruit pastes—and carved boxwood moulds for shaping them into knots, roses, or heraldic badges. Displayed among marchpane and candied fruits, these confections were edible sculptures. At feasts, they were offered in the banquetting house alongside spiced wine, wafers, and sugar plate, eaten in tiny bites rather than spread on bread.

Humoral Theory Notes

According to Galenic medicine, quinces and other tart fruits were considered cold and dry in the second degree, balancing the hot and moist qualities of meats and wines. The addition of sugar, cinnamon, and ginger “warmed” the mixture, making it more agreeable to the stomach. Thus, fruit pastes served both as decoration and as digestive aid.

Iberian Influence

England’s fascination with “Spanish marmalades” reflected the influence of Iberian confectionery traditions using honey, rosewater, and spice. Early imports were prized gifts, inspiring English cooks to recreate them at home. A.W.’s peach marmalade and Partridge’s plum version show how continental recipes adapted to local fruits and English tastes.

Comfits of Anise and Fennel – Medieval Candied Spices & Seeds (A Sweet Treat from the Past)

Comfits—candied spices & seeds—served as sweet digestives and table decoration in late medieval & Renaissance feasts.

Comfits – Medieval Candied Spices & Seeds (How to Make Historic Comfits)

Originally published 9/15/15 / updated 10/1/2025

Please note this correction: gum arabic and gum tragacanth are not the same substance. I originally conflated them—mea culpa, and thank you to the reader who flagged it.

Baronial 12th Night Comfits

Comfits were often served at the end of a feast as a digestive, to perfume the breath, and to decorate subtlety dishes and table settings. Aromatic seeds such as anise, fennel, or caraway were built up with repeated coats of sugar syrup—sometimes tinted with beet, spinach, or saffron. Almonds, ginger, and cinnamon splinters appear in later sources as well. You can still buy descendants of these sweets today (think Jordan almonds and pastilles), but handmade comfits are more delicate and—yes—tastier.

Rose Conserve – Medieval Sugared Petals for Heart & Spirit

Rose conserve — my original 2017 photo, refreshed here with updated notes and historical context.

Originally published: October 2, 2017 • Updated: September 19, 2025

Rose Conserve – A Medieval Confection of Petals & Sugar

Rose conserve — also called conserva rosarum — is a perfumed paste of fresh rose petals pounded with sugar. It sits right on the border of food and medicine: sweet enough for the banquet table, soothing enough to appear in apothecary lists. Cool, fragrant, and very old-fashioned in the best way.

Hannah Woolley’s Queen-like Closet (1675) – Recipe LXXXVI: To Make the Best Orange Marmalade.

Originally published: May 28, 2017 — Updated: September 19, 2025

Elizabethan Orange Marmalade – From Hannah Woolley’s Queen-like Closet (1675)

Historical Context

This recipe comes from Hannah Woolley (1622–1675), one of the first Englishwomen to publish cookery and household books under her own name. Her Queen-like Closet (1675) offered not only food recipes but also remedies, preserving techniques, and domestic advice. Orange marmalade, recipe LXXXVI, is one of her standout entries, and I’ve been itching to try it for years. When I found a pile of blood oranges on clearance, that was my excuse. No pressure, right? 😊

Marmalade in England: The word “marmalade” originally meant a quince paste (marmelada) from Portugal. By the late 16th century, imported Seville oranges became the fruit of choice for marmalade. These bitter oranges, full of pectin, set well and gave a sharp tang. Woolley specifies “deepest coloured oranges,” and while she probably meant Sevilles, I used blood oranges—sweeter and ruby-red. Everyone who tasted my batch loved it, but it is sweeter than a true bitter-orange preserve would have been.

Cultural Notes

• Cost of Oranges: In Woolley’s day, oranges were still a luxury. A pound could cost as much as a laborer’s daily wage. To serve marmalade at table was as much a statement of wealth as it was hospitality.
• Orangeries: Wealthy households began building “orangeries”—brick or glass houses to protect citrus trees through the English winter. Having one was as fashionable as wearing pearls. Preserves like marmalade were an edible extension of that prestige.
• Sugar as Luxury: Sugar came in loaves, had to be clarified, and was still expensive in the 17th century. It was considered medicinal as much as culinary. Combining oranges and sugar meant this marmalade straddled the line between health remedy and confection.
• Storage: Woolley instructs to “put it up in gally-pots.” These were small glazed jars sealed with paper, leather, or wax. Unlike our modern sealed canning jars, period marmalade wasn’t shelf-stable for years—it was eaten within months.

💰 Cost of Citrus & Sugar in Period

In the 16th–17th centuries, both oranges and sugar were expensive luxuries. A pound of imported oranges could cost as much as a day’s wage for a laborer, and sugar came in hard loaves that had to be chipped and clarified. Serving marmalade wasn’t just a treat — it was a visible display of wealth and refinement.

🍽️ Menu Placement & Humoral Theory

Marmalade and fruit preserves were served at the banquet course—a light, sweet table after the heavy meats. Oranges were considered cold and dry, while sugar and apples were warm and moist. Together, they made a more balanced food, thought to help digestion at the end of a feast.

The Original Recipe

Queen-like Closet (1675)

Modernized Text

LXXXVI. To make the best Orange Marmalade. Take the Rinds of the deepest coloured Oranges, boil them in several Waters till they are very tender, then mince them small, and to one pound of Oranges, take a Pound of Pippins cut small, one Pound of the finest Sugar, and one Pint of Spring-water, me't your Sugar in the Water over the fire, and scum it, then put in your Pippins, and boil them till they are very clear, then put in the Orange Rind, and boil them together, til you find by cooling a little of it, that it wil jelly very well, then put in the Iuice of two Oranges, and one Limon, and boil it a little longer; and then put it up in Gally-pots.

To make the best Orange Marmalade: Take the rinds of the deepest-colored oranges. Boil them in several changes of water until very tender, then mince them small. For each pound of orange rind, take a pound of pippins (apples), a pound of fine sugar, and a pint of spring water. Melt the sugar in the water over the fire and skim it. Add the apples and boil until clear. Add the orange rind and continue boiling until it will set like jelly when cooled. Then add the juice of two oranges and one lemon. Boil a little longer, then put into jars.

Dry Peaches and Red Quince Paste served at Curia Regis (9/10/2017)

To Dry Peaches – 17th-Century Fruit Paste (Hannah Wolley, 1670)

Originally published 9/16/17. Updated 9/19/2025.

Golden peach pastes adapted from Hannah Wolley’s Queen-Like Closet (1670): jewel-bright confections, oven or dehydrator friendly, ideal for SCA feasts.

This sweet preserve comes from The Queen-Like Closet (1670), a cookbook and household guide by Hannah Wolley. While late for the SCA timeline, her preserving methods represent skills widely practiced in the 16th and 17th centuries—perfectly in line with late-period banquet fare.

About Hannah Wolley

Hannah Wolley (1622–c.1674) was among the first Englishwomen to make a career from writing. She was the first to publish cookery books under her own name, the first to openly market them to servants and housewives as well as the gentry, and one of the earliest women in England to claim authorship professionally. Her career began with The Ladies Directory (1661) and The Cook’s Guide (1664), before culminating in The Queen-Like Closet (1670). The latter went through multiple editions, was translated into German, and became her best-known work. She blended recipes for food, preserves, and medicines, establishing herself as the “Martha Stewart” of her day.

What Kind of Peaches?

In 17th-century England, peaches were a luxury fruit, grown in walled gardens or imported at high cost. Period peaches were closer to older European cultivars: smaller, firmer, often slightly tart, and prized for their fragrance. They were valued in preserves where structure and color mattered as much as flavor.

• Period style: Older white-fleshed clingstone peaches (smaller, firmer).
• Modern substitutes: White peaches (delicate, aromatic), yellow peaches (bright amber color), or apricots (documented in the original recipes).
• Practical feast kitchen: Frozen peaches or reconstituted dried apricots work beautifully when fresh fruit is out of season.

Sources in Period

CCXV. To dry Apricocks. Take your fairest Apricocks and stone them... boil them till they are clear... lay them out upon Glasses to dry in a stove, and turn them twice a day.

CCI. To dry Apricocks or Pippins to look as clear as Amber. Take Apricocks... set them into a warm Oven... every day turn them till they be quite dry. Thus you may dry any sort of Plumbs or Pears as well as the other, and they will look very clear.

—Hannah Wolley, The Queen-Like Closet (1670)

Editor’s Note: Although Hannah Wolley’s Queen-Like Closet (1670) is technically outside the SCA’s 1600 cut-off, the method of drying fruits with sugar syrup was already well established centuries earlier. Wolley’s text preserves a technique that was in active use during the medieval and Renaissance periods, even if not written down until her time.

• 14th century – Forme of Cury (c.1390): preserves and sugared fruits appear.
• 15th century – Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430): recipes for fruit pastes and conserves.
• 16th century – Platina and Scappi describe sugared fruits, marmalades, and pastes on elite banquet tables.
• 17th century – Hannah Wolley records these long-standing practices in print (1670).

This timeline shows that while Wolley’s printed version is late, the preservation technique itself is “in period” and entirely appropriate for SCA feasts.

Menu Placement

Dried fruits and fruit pastes were served as part of the banquet course—the sweets and subtlety table that followed the main meal. They also travel well, making them practical for camping feasts today.

Humoral Notes

According to humoral theory, peaches were considered cold & moist. Drying them and cooking them with sugar shifted them toward balance, making them more wholesome. Serving them with warming spices like cinnamon or ginger further balanced their nature.

Pizza di Molti Strati – A Renaissance Baklava-Style Pastry with Elderflower & Rosewater

Despite the familiar name, this 16th-century “pizza” from Scappi bears no resemblance to modern flatbreads. Instead, it’s a delicate multi-layered pastry, brushed with butter, dusted with sugar and elderflower, and bathed in rosewater syrup. It’s likely a descendant of early Middle Eastern “baklava”‑style desserts—transmitted along Silk Road routes and adopted by Italian Renaissance cooks.

Historical Background

The tradition of layered pastry desserts originates in Middle Eastern and Byzantine cuisines. A 13th-century Arabic confection called lauzinaj—almond paste wrapped in ultra-thin dough and drenched in syrup—was an early ancestor to European versions. Phyllo dough itself traces back to Ancient Greek and Ottoman pastry techniques.

By the 16th century, Italian cooks like Scappi adapted the concept into a simplified “cold layered pizza,” blending Western sugars, elderflower, and rosewater into a visually striking—yet humble—pastry.

A Historical Journey Through Layered Pastry

This “pizza di molti strati” connects to a rich, layered history of syrup-drenched pastry desserts—evolving from Greco-Roman flat cakes to Byzantine, Arabic, and Ottoman specialties, finally taking elegant form in Renaissance Italy.

• Greco-Roman plakous & placenta – Layered pastries with dough, cheese, and honey. Cato the Elder’s placenta cake describes alternating layers of dough and cheese, baked and sweetened with honey.
• Byzantine koptoplakous – A nut-filled, syrup-drenched cake from Constantinople, widely regarded as an early form of baklava. Cited in culinary studies on Byzantine dessert culture.
• Arabic lauzinaj – Medieval almond paste pastries wrapped in thin dough and scented with rosewater. See: Scents and Flavors – Early Baklava Recipe.
• Ottoman Baklava & Phyllo Mastery – Ottoman chefs refined paper-thin dough layering in imperial kitchens. Syrups, nuts, and floral waters became standard. See Baklava – Wikipedia.
• Italian Renaissance Adaptation – Scappi’s 1570 *pizza di molti strati* replaces nuts with elderflower, and introduces a cold-serving presentation. It reflects Italy’s interpretation of a global dessert tradition.
  🍽️ What’s in a Name? A Slice of Pizza’s Etymology
  
  The word pizza may conjure images of tomato sauce and cheese—but its linguistic roots tell a far older story. The earliest known use dates to 997 CE in a Latin document from Gaeta, Italy, referring to a simple “focaccia”-style bread. But where the term *actually* comes from remains debated:

  • Ancient Greek pikte ("fermented pastry") or pitta ("flatbread")
  • Latin pinsa (from pinsere, “to press or flatten”)
  • Old High German bizzo or pizzo (“a bite” or “mouthful”)
  • Italian pizzicare (“to pluck” quickly from the oven)
  • Even Aramaic pita, referring to flatbread

  Linguists and food historians—like Jim Chevallier—have explored these etymologies in depth. In Scappi’s 1570 *Opera*, “pizza” still referred to a layered or folded pastry, not the tomato-covered dish we know today.
  
  Source: Linguistic and historical research courtesy of Jim Chevallier. For more, see discussions on Facebook and works on bread and early pizza history.

Original Recipe (Scappi, 1570)

“Per fare la pizza di molti strati, comunemente freddi pasta secca a strati: pigli uno foglio di pasta tirata sottile... tra ciascuno spargi burro, zucchero, ed erbe di sambuco... e quando è cotta servi fredda con zucchero e acqua di rose.”
—Bartolomeo Scappi, Opera dell’arte del cucinare (1570)

Modern English Translation

“To make a pizza of many layers, commonly served cold: take a sheet of pasta rolled out thin... between each one sprinkle butter, sugar, and elder flowers... and when it is cooked, serve cold with sugar and rosewater.”

Renaissance Kitchen Imagery

Woodcut from Scappi’s Opera (1570), showing layered pastry prep and kitchen tools.

“Pizza di Molti Strati” Recipe (Scappi, 1570)

Ingredients

• ½ pack filo (phyllo) dough (homemade if time allows)
• ¼ lb butter, melted
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 Tbsp dried elderflower
• Rosewater, to drizzle

Method

1. Preheat oven to 400 °F (or follow filo package instructions).
2. Keep melted butter warm. Lay one sheet of filo in a greased tart pan.
3. Brush with butter, dust with sugar & elderflower. Layer three sheets, then repeat until 12 sheets are used, finishing with sugar & elderflower.
4. Slice into triangles. Bake until golden brown.
5. Let cool, then serve cold with a drizzle of rosewater.

If serving a small group, homemade phyllo is highly recommended—it adds freshness and flavor.

🌸 Floral Flourishes:
Elderflower and rosewater were prized in Renaissance kitchens for their fragrance and humoral balance. In this pastry, they elevate simple layers into something aromatic, symbolic, and beautiful.

Trays of Pizza di Molti Strati and Mele Cotogne stufate con pignoli, acqua rosa, e zuccaro — quince stewed with pine nuts, rosewater, and sugar — ready for service at Flaming Gryphon 12th Night, 2024.

Want to make this for your next feast? Try homemade filo—it’s elegant, surprisingly satisfying, and perfect with a cup of warm spiced tea.

Primary Source Access

• Scappi’s Opera dell’arte del cucinare (1570) – Archive.org
• Full Italian Text on Google Books (1570 Edition)

Egg Leaveners: A Historical Journey from Renaissance Biscottini to Modern Baking

Mostaccioli a la Romana - Almond "Cakes" & Biscottini di zuccaro - Sugar Biscuits

Introduction: The Role of Eggs in Historical Leavening

Long before baking powder and baking soda revolutionized kitchens, cooks relied on clever, natural methods to bring lightness and lift to breads, cakes, and cookies. Among these, eggs stood out as a versatile, accessible, and surprisingly effective leavening agent—especially prized in pastries, biscuits, and delicate baked goods.

Yeast and barm starters fermented doughs, while early chemical leaveners like potash and hartshorn offered quick rising alternatives. But eggs, with their unique physical properties, provided bakers a reliable way to create tender, airy textures without fermentation or chemicals.

How Eggs Leaven: The Science Behind the Rise

• When egg whites are beaten or folded into batters, their proteins unfold and trap tiny air bubbles, creating a stable foam.
• During baking, these trapped air pockets expand with heat, causing the mixture to rise and set into a tender, airy crumb.
• This mechanical leavening doesn’t rely on fermentation or chemical reactions, allowing quicker and often more predictable results.
• Separating yolks and whites further refines control—whipped whites beaten to soft or stiff peaks can fine-tune texture and volume.

While yolks add richness and tenderness, the foaming power that lifts the batter mainly comes from the whites.

Historically, chicken eggs were common, but goose and duck eggs—larger and richer—were prized in special recipes. Coastal and rural areas might use quail or pheasant eggs, subtly affecting richness and leavening power. Variations in egg size and composition required cooks to carefully adjust techniques and ratios.

Cultural and Medicinal Significance of Eggs

Eggs weren’t just functional ingredients—they carried cultural and medical meanings. In medieval and Renaissance humoral theory, foods were classified by qualities like hot, cold, moist, and dry, believed to affect bodily balance.

Eggs were considered “warm and moist,” balancing “cold” or “dry” ingredients such as certain vegetables or grains. This philosophy shaped recipe construction and timing, elevating eggs beyond mere ingredients to symbols of health, harmony, and even seasonality.

Egg Leavening Compared to Yeast and Chemical Leaveners

Different leavening methods produced distinct textures and flavors:

• Yeast breads develop chewy crumbs and complex flavors through fermentation. They have longer shelf life but require time and precise conditions to rise.
• Egg-leavened goods like sponges, biscuits, and small cakes offer delicate crumb and richness. They rely on mechanical aeration and are best consumed fresh due to higher moisture and lack of preservative fermentation.
• Chemical leaveners such as potash and hartshorn (ammonium bicarbonate) emerged later, yielding quick rise and crisp texture but sometimes imparting strong flavors.

Together, these methods gave bakers a versatile toolkit, tailored for occasions from daily bread to grand banquets.

Historical Context and Development

Eggs as leaveners have roots in antiquity. Ancient Roman texts like Apicius’ De Re Coquinaria (4th–5th century CE) include recipes enriched with eggs, implying leavening roles (Dalby, 2003). By medieval times, cookery manuscripts showed increasing sophistication, recognizing eggs’ ability to trap air and lighten crumb (Toussaint-Samat, 1992).

The Italian Renaissance (14th–17th centuries) was pivotal. Bartolomeo Scappi’s Opera dell’Arte del Cucinare (1570) details egg-leavened tortelletti, sponges, and biscotti. This knowledge spread across Europe, influencing French and English baking (Albala, 2011). English texts like Forme of Cury reflect local adaptations.

Eggs’ “warm and moist” classification under humoral theory guided recipe design and usage by season and constitution (Fissell, 2010). Socioeconomic factors also influenced egg use; while chickens were common, eggs were seasonal and sometimes scarce, reserved for special occasions or wealthier households (Lea & Ward, 2003).

Pre-1600 Examples of Egg-Leavened Baked Goods

Fifteenth-century manuscripts document egg-leavened baked goods predating chemical leaveners. Italian biscottini—crisp cookies folding whipped egg whites into sweetened dough—are well attested (Scappi, 1570). English texts like Forme of Cury (ca. 1390) describe egg-based cakes and biscuits aerated by beating (Leahy, 1999).

Typical ingredients included wheat flour, honey or sugar, eggs (whole or separated), and spices like almonds, citrus peel, and cinnamon (Toussaint-Samat, 1992). Egg whites were hand-beaten to a stable foam, then folded carefully to preserve air bubbles, producing tender crumb (Smith, 2013).

Success depended on whipping and folding skill. Recipes emphasized “enough” eggs and beating “well,” reflecting practical rather than precise measures (Albala, 2007). These treats, labor-intensive and seasonal, were reserved for feasts, showcasing culinary artistry.

Post-1600 Innovations and Refinements

The 17th century brought refined egg-leavened baking with dedicated sponges and pastries relying on egg foam science. Cookbooks like La Varenne’s Le Cuisinier François (1651) and Woolley’s The Queen-like Closet (1672) describe precise beating and folding techniques for tender crumb (La Varenne, 1651; Woolley, 1672).

Egg whites were whipped to varying stiffness and folded gently—foundational for sponges and foams still popular today. Though chemical leaveners like hartshorn (ammonium bicarbonate) appeared, egg foam remained preferred for subtle flavor and texture (Albala, 2011).

Regional variation thrived: French genoise sponges favored gentle folding with minimal chemical leaveners (Montagné, 1938), while English Victoria sponge layered jam and cream, highlighting egg-leavened richness (Toussaint-Samat, 1992). Italy preserved airy biscottini and pan di Spagna, blending Renaissance techniques with local tastes.

“To whip eggs to the proper consistency requires both patience and finesse. Early bakers used careful hand motions to achieve soft, medium, or stiff peaks, each suited to different textures.”
— Adapted from Le Cuisinier François (1651)

Hartshorn — The Predecessor to Baking Powder

Before modern baking powder, hartshorn (ammonium bicarbonate) was a common chemical leavener in Europe. Derived from powdered deer antlers, it created crisp, light biscuits but sometimes imparted a distinct ammonia aroma, making egg foam the preferred leavening for delicate cakes and pastries (Albala, 2011).

While effective, hartshorn’s scent was off-putting to some, leading to the development of modern baking powders in the 19th century.

Featured Recipe: Italian Renaissance Biscottini

Ingredients

• 3 large egg whites
• 150g (3/4 cup) granulated sugar
• 150g (1 1/2 cups) finely ground almonds (almond flour)
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon (optional)
• Pinch of salt

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 325°F (160°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. Whip egg whites with salt to soft peaks. Gradually add sugar while whipping to stiff, glossy peaks.
3. Gently fold in almonds, lemon zest, and cinnamon, preserving airiness.
4. Pipe or spoon dollops onto baking sheet, spacing about 2 inches apart.
5. Bake for 20–25 minutes until dry to the touch and lightly golden.
6. Cool completely on a wire rack before serving.

Tips:

• Avoid overbeating the egg whites to maintain tenderness.
• Baking at a moderate temperature dries cookies evenly without excess browning.
• Experiment with savory variations like minced prosciutto or spices like anise seeds.

Egg Leaveners in the Broader Context of Historical Baking

Egg leavening coexisted with yeast fermentation, chemical agents like potash and hartshorn, and mechanical methods such as creaming butter and sugar.

• Yeast made staple chewy breads with long shelf life.
• Chemical leaveners enabled quick, crisp biscuits but sometimes had strong flavors.
• Egg leavening was ideal for delicate pastries and cakes, prized for lightness without fermentation or chemicals.

Egg-leavened goods were luxurious and reserved for special occasions, contrasting with everyday breads. Due to higher moisture and fat, they were more perishable and best enjoyed fresh.

Modern classics like genoise, pan di Spagna, and ladyfingers descend from these methods, underscoring their timeless appeal.

Timeless Traditions: The Enduring Legacy of Egg Leavening

What’s truly striking is how little the fundamental technique of egg leavening has changed over the centuries. The modern almond biscuit recipe above isn’t far removed from the Renaissance biscottini crafted in 17th-century kitchens.

The same simple yet precise steps—whipping egg whites to glossy foam, folding in dry ingredients gently, and baking at a careful temperature—have carried through generations.

This continuity is a testament to the elegance and effectiveness of these age-old methods. Rather than being “primitive,” historical recipes display remarkable sophistication and intuitive understanding of food science long before modern chemistry.

By baking with these techniques today, you’re connecting directly with a rich culinary heritage. Each whisk and fold echoes the skilled hands of bakers past, bridging time and culture through shared craftsmanship.

Try It Yourself

Whether you’re a history buff or a curious baker, these egg-leavened recipes invite you to whisk your way through centuries of culinary tradition. Try your hand at Renaissance biscottini and taste the legacy of a time-honored technique.

For more on historical leaveners, explore our Forgotten Leaveners series covering potash, yeast, and chemical methods.

Support our work on Ko-fi for exclusive recipes and guides, helping keep history alive on your table.

Suggested Internal Links

• Forgotten Leaveners Series: Potash and Pearl Ash
• Yeast and Barm Starters in Historical Baking (TBD)
• Chemical Leaveners: Hartshorn and Ammonium Bicarbonate

References

• Albala, K. (2011). Food in Early Modern Europe. Greenwood Press.
• Albala, K. (2007). Food in Early Modern Europe. Greenwood Press.
• Dalby, A. (2003). Food in the Ancient World from A to Z. Routledge.
• Fissell, M. (2010). Natural Science and the Making of the Middle Ages. University of Chicago Press.
• La Varenne, F. P. (1651). Le Cuisinier François.
• Lea, D., & Ward, J. (2003). The English Cookery Book: Historical Perspective. British Library.
• Leahy, E. (1999). The Forme of Cury: A Roll of Ancient English Cookery. Early English Text Society.
• Montagné, P. (1938). Larousse Gastronomique.
• Scappi, B. (1570). Opera dell’Arte del Cucinare. Venice.
• Smith, A. F. (2013). The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink. Oxford University Press.
• Toussaint-Samat, M. (1992). A History of Food. Wiley-Blackwell.
• Woolley, H. (1672). The Queen-like Closet.

Kitchen Adventures – Nucato from Anonimo Toscano (Comfits and Candies: & Del mele bullito co le noci, detto nucato)

Nucato Recipe: A 14th-Century Italian Honey & Nut Confection

The Anonimo Toscano, also known as the Libro della cucina del secolo XIV, is a significant 14th-century manuscript that provides a remarkable window into the culinary traditions of medieval Tuscany. This collection of 184 recipes showcases the ingenuity and artistry of Italian cuisine during this period. Among these, Nucato stands out as a particularly noteworthy confection, crafted from honey and nuts and recorded under the title Del mele bullito co le noci, detto nucato. This delicacy, made by boiling honey with nuts and aromatic spices, has long been associated with festive gatherings and celebrations.

Honey: A Culinary Staple in Medieval Italy

In medieval Italy, honey was more than just a sweetener—it was a prized ingredient valued for both its rich flavor and medicinal properties. Before sugar became widely available, honey played a crucial role in both sweet and savory dishes. Monastic communities were instrumental in beekeeping, producing honey that would be used in everything from pastries to meat glazes. Trade cities like Venice and Florence further expanded access to honey, allowing it to become a staple in households across different social classes.

Nucato exemplifies how honey was combined with warm spices such as cinnamon, ginger, and cloves to create a complex, satisfying confection. The natural sweetness of honey enhances the depth of roasted nuts, while the spices introduce layers of flavor that balance the dish beautifully.

Recreating Nucato: A Taste of the Past

For those interested in bringing a piece of medieval Italy into their kitchen, here is a detailed recipe to follow:

Ingredients:

• 5 cups high-quality honey
• 4 cups chopped nuts (hazelnuts, almonds, and walnuts)
• Zest and juice of 1 lemon
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/3 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 pinch ground black pepper

Instructions:

1. In a heavy-bottomed pot, gently simmer the honey over low heat, skimming off any impurities that rise to the surface. This ensures a smooth and pure base.
2. Stir in the chopped nuts, making sure they are evenly coated with honey.
3. Add half of the cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and black pepper, allowing the spices to infuse into the mixture.
4. Cook over low heat for about 30 minutes, stirring continuously to prevent burning. The mixture should thicken and develop a glossy sheen.
5. Once ready, spread the mixture evenly onto a lightly greased surface. Sprinkle the remaining spices over the top and gently dab the surface with lemon juice to enhance the flavor.
6. Allow the Nucato to cool completely before cutting it into bite-sized pieces.

Savoring a Medieval Delight

The final result is a rich, chewy confection with a nutty crunch and warm spice undertones, perfect for pairing with spiced wine or a strong espresso. Beyond its delightful taste, Nucato serves as a connection to Italy’s culinary heritage, offering a tangible way to experience the flavors of the past.

🦚 Curious about the full feast?
Explore the complete menu from the Flaming Gryphon 12th Night Feast 2024 to see all the dishes and historical inspirations behind this event.

Exploring recipes like Nucato not only enriches our understanding of medieval cuisine but also allows us to appreciate the timeless appeal of simple, high-quality ingredients. Whether you're a history enthusiast or simply looking for a unique homemade treat, this traditional Italian confection brings a touch of the past into the present—one delicious bite at a time.

I got help from Grammarly to create this blog post. 

Italian (Medieval) – Finnocchio dolce verde- Sweet Green Fennel (Candied Fennel Stalks) (Comfits and Candies)

 

Plates of Candies and Comfits waiting to be served 

Domenico Romoli's "La Singolare Dottrina," published in 1560, is a comprehensive guide for cooks and maîtres d'hôtel, offering insights into the selection, preparation, and service of various foods and wines. In its fourth book, Romoli presents detailed menus for each month, including the "Banquet of January." This banquet showcases a variety of dishes suitable for the winter season, reflecting the culinary traditions of 16th-century Italy.

Sweet Green Fennel from Domenico Romoli's Banquet of January

Domenico Romoli's La Singolare Dottrina (1560) offers a fascinating glimpse into Renaissance cuisine for those who love diving into historical recipes. This culinary guide, written by Romoli—nicknamed Panunto—details elaborate feasts for every month of the year. Among the dishes featured in the Banquet of the Month of January is Finnocchio Dolce Verde, or Sweet Green Fennel, a unique Renaissance treat that transforms humble fennel stalks into candied delights.

A Taste of 16th-Century Italy

Fennel was a staple in Italian Renaissance kitchens, prized for its digestive properties and aromatic qualities. This particular preparation, which candies the fennel stalks in sugar syrup, reflects the era's fascination with preserving flavors and enhancing natural sweetness. The result is a delicately flavored confection, perfect for pairing with cheeses and wine or simply enjoying as a sweet snack.

The Recipe: Sweet Green Fennel (Candied Fennel Stalks)

Yield: About 3/4 cup candied fennel and 1 cup syrup

Ingredients:

• 1 cup sugar
• 1 cup water
• 5 to 6 ounces of fennel stalks, cut on the diagonal into thin sticks (about 1 1/2 cups)

Instructions:

1. Preheat the oven to 250°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone liner.
2. Prepare the syrup: In a small saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the sugar and water. Stir until the sugar dissolves.
3. Candy the fennel: Add the sliced fennel stalks to the syrup and reduce heat to medium. Cook until the fennel stalks become translucent.
4. Strain and bake: Strain the fennel stalks, reserving the syrup for future use (it's great for cocktails or drizzling over desserts). Spread the syrup-coated fennel slices in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet.
5. Dry the fennel: Bake for about 30 minutes, then separate any sticking slices. Continue baking for 30 minutes or until the fennel is dry yet slightly sticky.
6. Cool and serve: Allow the fennel to cool completely before serving or storing.
7. 
   

Bringing History to Your Table

The candied fennel from Romoli's Banquet of January offers a glimpse into the refined tastes of Renaissance Italy. Its delicate sweetness and herbal notes make it a versatile addition to modern dishes—try it as a garnish for cheese boards, an elegant topping for desserts, or even infused into a winter tea.

By recreating historical recipes like this one, we can appreciate how Renaissance chefs balanced sweetness, texture, and aromatic flavors. Next time you're in the kitchen, why not step back and savor the flavors of a 16th-century banquet?

🦚 Curious about the full feast?
Explore the complete menu from the Flaming Gryphon 12th Night Feast 2024 to see all the dishes and historical inspirations behind this event.