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Showing posts with label Ceilidh XVI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ceilidh XVI. Show all posts

Sciellfisc: Reconstructing Anglo-Saxon Shellfish from Middens, Manuscripts, and a Missing Recipe

Sciellfisc: Reconstructing Anglo-Saxon Shellfish from Middens, Manuscripts, and a Missing Recipe

Mussels served simply with butter for the third course of Ceilidh XVI, March 29, 2003.

More than twenty years ago, I put a dish called Sciellfisc on an Anglo-Saxon inspired feast menu and served mussels with butter. At the time I knew that I was not working from a surviving recipe. My notes described the dish as one of my best guesses, built from archaeological evidence and the cooking methods I could document. The old post was cautious enough to say that mussels were "likely known" to the Anglo-Saxons.

Returning to the dish in 2026 changed that sentence completely. Mussels do not merely seem possible. They appear in Anglo-Saxon archaeology, in Old English vocabulary, and in Ælfric's description of a fisherman's catch. Bald's Leechbook adds shellfish to the dietary record and, wonderfully, even preserves a preparation in which winkles are removed from their shells and served with peas. What still does not survive is the one thing a modern cook wants most: the recipe.

That absence is what makes Sciellfisc worth revisiting. This is not an article about discovering a lost formula for buttered mussels. It is about culinary archaeology: how shells, pits, hearths, manuscripts, words, chemical residues, dietary science, and comparative recipes can narrow the possibilities without pretending to erase the spaces between them.

Hunigbæe Moran: Reconstructing Anglo-Saxon Honeyed Roots from the Leechbooks to Mary Savelli

📜 New here? ✦ Anglo-Saxon Feast Research HubHriðer SmeameteBeren Briw

Hunigbæe Moran: Reconstructing Anglo-Saxon Honeyed Roots from the Leechbooks to Mary Savelli

Honeyed roots served beside Beren Briw and Hriðer Smeamete, the second course of the reconstructed Ceilidh XVI Anglo-Saxon feast.

Hunigbæe Moran entered my kitchen more than twenty years ago as one of the simplest dishes in Mary Savelli's Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England: carrots boiled until tender, then coated with butter, honey, salt, and a little ginger. It was served in the second course of Ceilidh XVI in March 2003 beside Hriðer Smeamete and Beren Briw.

Of the three dishes, the carrots seemed the least complicated. They were also among the most successful. Honeyed carrots have been served at SCA feasts for decades, and I can attest that this particular combination has persuaded more than one confirmed carrot-hater to eat carrots willingly.

But simplicity can hide difficult questions.

Did Anglo-Saxons actually cook carrots with butter and honey? Where did the ginger come from? And when Mary wrote that the Leechbooks described plants boiled in butter and honey, how closely did her finished carrot dish follow the surviving evidence?

The answer turned out to be far more interesting than I expected.

No surviving Anglo-Saxon recipe says, in so many words, "take carrots, boil them, and glaze them with butter, honey, and ginger." But carrots or carrot-like roots do occur in Old English medical literature. Vegetables are cooked in butter. Beet is explicitly cooked in butter and honey and eaten hot. Ginger occurs in the same dietary world. And when we follow carrot cookery forward into the later Middle Ages, carrots begin appearing directly with honey and ginger.

Mary's dish is therefore not a recovered Anglo-Saxon recipe. It is something more interesting: a modern composite reconstruction whose individual pieces can be traced surprisingly close to the period.

Why This Article Matters

  • It preserves Mary Savelli's influential honeyed carrot recipe rather than quietly replacing it.
  • It identifies an actual carrot or moru broth in Bald's Leechbook.
  • It separates the vinegar mentioned beside that passage from the carrot preparation itself.
  • It identifies the much stronger Lacnunga evidence for beet cooked directly in butter and honey.
  • It explains the slippery Old English vocabulary surrounding carrots and parsnips.
  • It follows carrot, honey, and ginger into later medieval recipes without backdating those recipes into Anglo-Saxon England.
  • It offers a more conservative honeyed-root reconstruction while preserving the SCA version that inspired the investigation.
Historical Integrity Statement

No complete culinary recipe titled Hunigbæe Moran has been identified in the surviving Anglo-Saxon corpus. The title should be treated as the inherited modern name of Mary Savelli's reconstruction. Old English sources do, however, preserve moru in a broth, distinguish carrot and parsnip terminology in glosses, and preserve an edible preparation of beet cooked in butter and honey. Ginger is known in the Anglo-Saxon medical corpus but is not directly paired with the honeyed beet preparation. Later medieval sources provide increasingly explicit evidence for carrot combined with honey, ginger, and other spices.

The Feast That Brought Hunigbæe Moran to Give It Forth

Hunigbæe Moran was served at Ceilidh XVI on March 29, 2003. The second course consisted of stewed beef, barley pottage, and honeyed carrots. The menu drew heavily upon Mary Savelli's Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England, published at a time when practical books devoted specifically to Anglo-Saxon cooking were comparatively scarce.

The feast was first recorded on Give It Forth in 2015, twelve years after it was cooked. By then some of my original notes and redactions had disappeared, but the menu and several recipes survived. Returning to that feast in 2026 has become a kind of culinary archaeology. Instead of asking whether each dish is simply "authentic" or "inauthentic," I have been returning to the sources and asking what each ingredient can actually tell us.

Read the original Ceilidh XVI feast record.

Mary Savelli's Reasoning

Savelli explained the dish by noting that the Leechbooks contained preparations in which various plants were boiled in butter and honey. She then cited Anthimus for the observation that carrots were good when well boiled.

She also added a personal observation that is historically useful in a completely different way: at the time she was writing, honeyed carrots were a familiar way of serving carrots within the SCA.

That last point is not evidence for Anglo-Saxon cuisine. It is evidence for the history of historical cooking.

Recipes acquire traditions of their own. By the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, honeyed carrots had become part of the practical vocabulary of early-period SCA feasts. They were inexpensive, easily scaled, easy to hold for service, compatible with meat and grain dishes, and very popular with diners.

The question is whether Savelli's historical reasoning can still be defended.

Surprisingly, much of it can.

First Problem: What Is a Moru?

The vegetable vocabulary is not as tidy as a modern grocery aisle. Old English moru and related compounds can occupy the uncomfortable territory between what modern English calls a carrot and what it calls a parsnip.

The Bosworth-Toller dictionary records several revealing examples. The compound wealh-moru or "foreign root" can be glossed as carrot or parsnip, while another Old English gloss makes an even more interesting distinction:

Wylisc moru – carrot
Englisc moru – parsnip

That is extremely useful evidence, but it does not mean every appearance of moru can automatically be translated as a modern carrot. The Latin vocabulary presents similar difficulties. Pastinaca could be used for roots that later translators have identified as carrot, parsnip, or both.

For that reason, this article uses "carrot" when a source or scholarly translation identifies the plant that way, while retaining "carrot/parsnip-type root" where the identification remains uncertain.

The Missing Carrot: Bald's Leechbook

The most useful discovery came from Bald's Leechbook.

In a dietary remedy concerned with a severe spasm or hiccup attributed to cold, the text offers several warming preparations. Among them appears the short phrase:

mintan broð oþþe moran

Literally, the passage gives something along the lines of "mint broth or moru." Bosworth-Toller cites this passage under broþ, and modern scholarship has likewise discussed it as mint or carrot broth.

That gives us something important that Savelli's short explanation did not make obvious: a carrot or carrot/parsnip-type root really does occur in an Old English broth preparation.

It is not a feast recipe. It is medical dietary advice. But it establishes that the root was not merely listed as a medicinal plant to be ground into an ointment or bound onto the body. It could enter an edible liquid preparation.

But Were the Carrots Cooked in Vinegar?

This passage contains a small trap.

Vinegar does appear immediately nearby. The longer instruction offers wild celery seed with wine or vinegar, followed by mint broth or moru, then cumin or ginger and other alternatives.

Because the ingredients sit so close together on the page, it would be very easy to remember the passage as "carrots with vinegar." But the grammar does not clearly attach the vinegar to the moru.

The safer reading is:

  • wild celery seed with wine or vinegar;
  • mint broth or moru;
  • cumin or ginger as additional warming alternatives.

So Bald's Leechbook gives us evidence for carrot or moru broth. It does not give us a secure recipe for vinegar-glazed carrots.

That distinction matters because reconstruction becomes unreliable very quickly when neighboring remedies are allowed to collapse into one imaginary dish.

The Strongest Evidence Is Not Carrot at All

Then the Lacnunga changes the entire discussion.

Among its dietary remedies are preparations that look remarkably culinary. One tells us to boil hyssop in butter with radish, elecampane, and barley meal. Another gives beet cooked in butter and eaten hot. And one particularly important preparation directs the cook to:

seethe beet in butter and honey until it is as thick as porridge, and eat it hot.

That is the piece of evidence Savelli's honeyed carrots needed.

Not because it proves that Anglo-Saxons prepared carrots that way. It does not.

It proves that an edible vegetable preparation using butter + honey + prolonged cooking + hot service is directly preserved in an Old English medical collection.

Suddenly the central technique of Hunigbæe Moran is no longer a modern flavor combination searching desperately for a historical excuse. It is a documented Anglo-Saxon-period food treatment applied by Savelli to a different root.

Can Medical Food Tell Us Anything About Dinner?

A medical manuscript is not a household cookbook, and that distinction should remain visible. A preparation prescribed for illness cannot automatically be promoted to the feast table.

At the same time, food used medicinally still had to exist within a recognizable culinary world. A patient could be instructed to eat beet cooked in butter because beet, butter, cooking vessels, heat, and the act of eating cooked vegetables were familiar things.

Recent work by food historian Debby Banham is especially useful here. Banham has argued that some of the dietary instructions preserved in the major Old English medical collections deserve to be considered among the earliest culinary recipes written in English or in England. These texts preserve cooking processes as well as medical theory: boiling, simmering, broths, pottages, fats, seasoning, and instructions for eating foods hot or otherwise prepared.

The medical setting therefore tells us how the food was being used in the particular passage. It does not make the cooking method imaginary.

Anthimus: Boil the Root Well

Savelli also cited Anthimus, whose sixth-century De observatione ciborum, usually translated as On the Observance of Foods, belongs to the late antique dietary tradition that fed into early medieval learned culture.

Anthimus writes of pastinacae that they are good when well boiled and eaten. If they are fried, he advises parboiling them first.

The botanical identification of pastinaca is not perfectly secure. Translations and historical dictionaries move between carrot and parsnip. For our purposes, Anthimus gives us supporting evidence for the culinary treatment rather than a complete recipe: the root may be boiled until properly cooked before further preparation.

That is exactly the first step in Savelli's recipe.

What About the Ginger?

Ginger is where Mary's recipe becomes more interpretive.

Ginger was known to Anglo-Saxon medical writers. Indeed, gingifran appears in the same broader Bald's Leechbook passage that contains moru. That does not mean the text tells us to season the carrot with ginger. The ingredients are presented as alternatives within a warming remedy.

So we can say:

  • ginger was known;
  • ginger appears in the same dietary-medical context as moru;
  • but no surviving Anglo-Saxon instruction found here combines the two.

For the strictest reconstruction, I would therefore leave the ginger out.

But ginger becomes much more interesting when we move forward in time.

Working Forward: When Do Honeyed Carrots Become Explicit?

Rather than forcing the later ingredients backward, we can reverse the investigation. If honey, ginger, and carrots eventually appear together in documented recipes, when does that happen?

Thirteenth-Century al-Andalus: Carrot + Honey + Ginger

The anonymous thirteenth-century Andalusian cookbook preserves a medicinal carrot paste. The carrots are cooked, drained, combined with a very large quantity of clarified honey, cooked to a paste, and seasoned with ginger, galingale, cubeb, and probably clove.

This is not a side dish of glazed vegetables. It is closer to an electuary, preserve, or confection.

But it gives us an unmistakable medieval combination:

carrot + honey + ginger

That does not prove continuity from Anglo-Saxon England. Al-Andalus belonged to a different culinary, medical, agricultural, and trading world. Its importance here is comparative. By the thirteenth century the flavor combination Mary chose is demonstrably at home within medieval food medicine.

Sixteenth-Century Transylvania: Honeyed Carrots Become Dinner

By the sixteenth century the resemblance becomes much closer.

The Prince of Transylvania's Court Cookbook includes a preparation translated as "Wild carrot parsnips." The cook is told to peel the carrot, cut it into cubes, put it into water, and boil it. When it is half cooked, honey, black pepper, and saffron are added. Oil is added at service. The same treatment may be used for wild carrots and parsnips.

Elsewhere in the same collection, lamb is cooked with carrots, honey, and spices.

Now we are no longer looking at a medicinal carrot paste. We are looking at carrots participating in ordinary savory cookery with honey and spices.

Structurally, the first recipe is remarkably close to Savelli:

  1. prepare the carrots;
  2. boil them;
  3. add honey and seasoning;
  4. finish with fat;
  5. serve.

The fat is oil rather than butter, and the spices are pepper and saffron rather than ginger. It is also sixteenth-century Transylvanian evidence, not tenth-century English evidence. But the culinary logic is unmistakable.

Watching Mary's Recipe Assemble Itself

Source Root Honey Butter/Fat Ginger/Spice What It Supports
Anthimus, 6th c. Pastinaca No Frying after parboiling No Boiling root vegetables well
Bald's Leechbook Moru Not with root Not in this instruction Ginger nearby as an alternative Carrot/parsnip-type root in an edible broth
Lacnunga Beet Yes Butter No Direct evidence for an edible vegetable cooked in butter and honey
13th-c. al-Andalus Carrot Yes No butter Ginger, galingale, cubeb, clove Explicit carrot + honey + ginger combination
16th-c. Transylvania Carrot/parsnip Yes Oil Pepper, saffron Boiled honeyed carrots as savory cookery
Mary Savelli Carrot Yes Butter Ginger Modern synthesis of the earlier strands

Seen this way, Hunigbæe Moran stops looking like a recipe someone invented simply because honey tastes good on carrots.

Mary appears to have braided together several historically defensible strands:

  • root vegetables could be boiled;
  • moru appears in an Old English edible broth;
  • Old English medical texts preserve vegetables cooked in butter;
  • the Lacnunga explicitly preserves beet cooked in butter and honey;
  • ginger was known in the same medical-dietary culture;
  • later medieval sources explicitly pair carrot with honey and ginger;
  • later savory cookery explicitly treats boiled carrots with honey and fat.

The mistake would be presenting all of those strands as though they came from a single Anglo-Saxon recipe.

They do not.

But as reconstruction logic, they are surprisingly coherent.

Mary Savelli's Hunigbæe Moran

Hunigbæe Moran – Honeyed Carrots

Serves 4–6

  • 1 pound carrots, peeled and sliced
  • 2 tablespoons butter
  • 2 tablespoons honey
  • ¼ teaspoon salt
  • ⅛ teaspoon ground ginger

Bring a saucepan of water to a boil and cook the carrots until tender, approximately 10–15 minutes. Drain well.

Melt the butter in the saucepan and stir in the honey, salt, and ginger. Add the carrots and toss gently to coat. Heat through and serve warm.

How the Ingredients Stand Up

Carrots

Supported with caution. Old English moru can denote carrot or parsnip-type roots, and one glossing tradition explicitly distinguishes a foreign carrot from an English parsnip. Bald's Leechbook includes moru in an edible broth. The problem is not whether carrots were conceptually available to the text. The problem is identifying exactly which botanical form every occurrence represents.

Butter

Strongly supported as a vegetable cooking fat. The Lacnunga gives both beet cooked in butter and a preparation of beet cooked in butter and honey.

Honey

Directly supported with beet. Honey is not attached to the moru broth, but the butter-and-honey vegetable treatment itself is explicit.

Salt

Ordinary and plausible. Salt occurs repeatedly in Old English dietary preparations. The specific honeyed beet instruction does not require it, so it remains a reasonable culinary adjustment rather than a necessary part of the source-led version.

Ginger

Period-known but indirect for this dish. Ginger occurs in the Anglo-Saxon medical corpus and beside the broader remedy containing moru. It is not directly combined there with carrots, butter, or honey. Later medieval carrot-honey preparations make the flavor combination much easier to understand, but they should remain later comparative evidence.

A More Conservative Give It Forth Reconstruction

If I were preparing this dish again specifically as an Anglo-Saxon reconstruction, I would shift the vegetables rather than abandon the dish.

My order of preference would be:

  1. beet, because the butter-and-honey preparation is directly attested;
  2. parsnip, because the Old English moru vocabulary strongly supports the root and the carrot/parsnip boundary is historically slippery;
  3. carrot, which remains a defensible experimental choice and preserves the beloved SCA version.

Honeyed Roots – Evidence-Weighted Reconstruction

Serves 4–6

  • 1 pound beets, parsnips, carrots, or a mixture
  • 2 tablespoons butter
  • 1–2 tablespoons honey, to taste
  • A small pinch of salt, optional

Clean the roots and cut them into manageable pieces. Boil or simmer them until tender. Drain well.

Return the roots to the pan with the butter and honey. Cook gently, stirring or turning the vegetables, until they are thoroughly coated and the honey and butter cling to the surface. Serve hot.

For the most conservative version: use beets and omit the ginger.

For the Savelli/SCA legacy version: use carrots and add a small amount of ground ginger.

Why Beets May Be the Better Reconstruction

There is something wonderfully backward about arriving at a carrot recipe and discovering that beet may be the vegetable we should have been cooking all along.

Yet the flavor makes perfect sense.

Beets are naturally sweet and earthy. Butter softens that earthiness and gives the vegetable richness. Honey deepens the sweetness and creates a glossy finish. Anyone familiar with Harvard beets will recognize the general sweet-earthy logic, although Harvard beets depend upon sugar and vinegar for their characteristic sweet-sour flavor. A butter-and-honey beet is mellower and richer, without the sharp acidic edge.

I can also attest from experience that honey and butter with beets is delicious, assuming one begins on friendly terms with beets.

That makes the Lacnunga preparation particularly intriguing. A direction that can look medicinal and peculiar on the page turns out, when considered as food, to describe a completely sensible way of preparing a root vegetable.

Why Mary's Carrots Still Belong at the Feast

Historical reconstruction is not improved by pretending that every beloved older reconstruction was foolish simply because modern research allows us to draw finer distinctions.

Hunigbæe Moran worked.

It worked as food. It worked at feast scale. It complemented beef and barley. It appealed to people who normally avoided carrots. And it gave SCA cooks an approachable way to put an unfamiliar historical cuisine on the table.

More importantly, Mary's historical instincts were better than the simplicity of the finished recipe initially suggests.

She saw plant foods being cooked in butter and honey. She saw boiled carrot or carrot-like roots in early dietary literature. She knew ginger belonged to the broader spice vocabulary available to early medieval medical writers. She combined those observations into something a modern cook could actually serve.

What we can do now is make the seams visible.

That does not diminish the reconstruction. It tells us what kind of reconstruction it is.

Confidence Level

Overall Confidence: Moderate, with a high-confidence beet version.

  • High confidence: beet cooked with butter and honey and eaten hot.
  • High confidence: butter as a cooking fat for edible plant preparations in the Lacnunga.
  • Moderate to high confidence: moru as carrot/parsnip-type root and its use in an edible broth.
  • Moderate confidence: applying the documented butter-and-honey treatment to parsnips or carrots as experimental reconstruction.
  • Moderate confidence as comparative medieval flavor: carrot + honey + ginger, directly documented later.
  • Low confidence as a specifically Anglo-Saxon combination: carrot + butter + honey + ginger together in one dish.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Hunigbæe Moran a surviving Anglo-Saxon recipe?

No complete recipe with this title has been identified. Mary Savelli's honeyed carrots are a modern reconstruction assembled from early culinary and medical evidence.

Does Bald's Leechbook really mention carrots?

It contains moru in a passage describing mint broth or moru. Historical dictionaries and modern scholarship allow carrot as a translation, although Old English root terminology can overlap with parsnip.

Does Bald's Leechbook say to cook the carrots in vinegar?

Not securely. Wine or vinegar belongs to the preparation of wild celery seed immediately before the mint broth or moru phrase. The proximity makes the association easy to remember, but the vinegar should not simply be transferred to the carrots.

Do we have an Anglo-Saxon vegetable cooked in honey and butter?

Yes. The Lacnunga preserves an edible preparation of beet cooked in butter and honey until thick and served hot. That is the strongest direct evidence behind this reconstruction.

Was ginger known?

Yes. Ginger occurs in Old English medical material. What we do not have is a surviving Anglo-Saxon instruction explicitly seasoning the honeyed beet or moru with ginger.

When do carrots appear directly with honey and ginger?

A thirteenth-century Andalusian medicinal carrot paste combines boiled carrot with honey, ginger, galingale, cubeb, and clove. It is geographically and culturally separate from Anglo-Saxon England, so it is comparative evidence rather than proof of continuity.

Are there later savory honeyed carrot recipes?

Yes. The sixteenth-century Prince of Transylvania's Court Cookbook instructs the cook to boil carrots, add honey, black pepper, and saffron, and finish the dish with oil. The same treatment is suggested for wild carrots and parsnips.

Which vegetable should I use?

For the closest reconstruction of the surviving butter-and-honey instruction, use beet. For an experimental root variation, parsnips are an excellent choice. For the traditional Savelli/SCA dish, use carrots.

Should I add ginger?

For Savelli's version, yes. For the most evidence-weighted Anglo-Saxon version, I would omit it. The ginger remains a historically informed comparative addition rather than a directly documented seasoning for the honeyed root.

What This Recipe Taught Me

I began this investigation expecting Hunigbæe Moran to be one of the more questionable dishes in the Ceilidh XVI menu. Honey-glazed carrots seasoned with ginger felt almost suspiciously convenient: familiar enough for a modern feast, pleasant enough that no one would complain, and easily explained by saying that all the ingredients were known.

That is not where the evidence led.

Bald's Leechbook gave us the missing moru. The Lacnunga gave us beet cooked in butter and honey. Anthimus gave us the boiled root. The same Old English medical world gave us ginger, although not attached directly to the vegetable. And later medieval recipes showed carrot, honey, ginger, spice, and fat gradually coming together in ways increasingly recognizable to the modern cook.

Mary's carrots are still not a surviving Anglo-Saxon recipe.

But neither are they merely fantasy food dressed in an Old English name.

They are a reconstruction built by taking several fragments of historical practice and asking what might happen if they met in one pot. More than twenty years later, we can refine that reconstruction. We can make beet the first choice, parsnip the second, and carrot the familiar third. We can remove the ginger when we want to stay closest to the direct evidence, or retain it when serving the Savelli version that became part of SCA feast culture.

Most importantly, we can explain why.

That is the real value of returning to these old recipes. The goal is not to prove that we were foolish twenty years ago. It is to see how much more clearly we can read the evidence now.

And in this case, I would happily put the honeyed roots back beside the beef and barley.

Continue Exploring the Anglo-Saxon Feast

Sources and Further Research

Old English Medical and Dietary Evidence

  • Cockayne, Thomas Oswald, ed. Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England. 3 vols. London, 1864–1866. Lacnunga, volume III.
  • Kesling, Emily. Medical Texts in Anglo-Saxon Literary Culture. Boydell & Brewer, 2020. Digital text.
  • Banham, Debby. "The Earliest English Culinary Recipes: Dietary Advice in Old English Medical Texts." Journal of Medieval History 49 (2023): 711–724. Article.

Old English Language and Plant Terminology

Early Comparative Evidence

Later Medieval and Early Modern Carrot Comparisons

Mary Savelli and the Give It Forth Feast

About This Reconstruction

Historical cooking rarely gives us the comfort of a complete recipe waiting patiently to be translated. For Anglo-Saxon England especially, the evidence often survives in medical texts, vocabulary lists, agricultural records, archaeology, and recipes transmitted from older Mediterranean traditions. Reconstruction requires keeping those categories separate while allowing them to speak to one another.

Hunigbæe Moran is a particularly good example. The carrot dish itself is modern. The roots beneath it are not.

The surviving evidence gives us an edible moru, beet cooked in butter, beet cooked in butter and honey, boiled pastinaca, and period-known ginger. Later medieval evidence demonstrates that carrot, honey, ginger, spice, and fat could indeed form coherent culinary combinations. Mary Savelli brought those strands together into a practical feast dish. The Give It Forth reconstruction separates them again, identifies their individual strength, and then puts them back on the table with the uncertainty clearly labeled.


AI Transparency

This historical reconstruction was researched, tested where noted, written, and edited by Yonnie for Give It Forth.

Artificial intelligence assisted with source discovery and comparison, editorial organization, formatting, proofreading, readability, and search optimization. All historical interpretation, reconstruction methodology, personal cooking observations, source selection, and final editorial decisions remain the author's own. Where evidence is comparative, uncertain, or drawn from a later period, that uncertainty is stated within the article rather than hidden.

Beren Briw: Reconstructing an Anglo-Saxon Barley Pottage from the Lacnunga to Mary Savelli

📜 New here? ✦ Anglo-Saxon Feast Research HubHriðer SmeameteThe Steward’s Table

Beren Briw: Reconstructing an Anglo-Saxon Barley Pottage from the Lacnunga to Mary Savelli

Beren Briw entered my kitchen more than twenty years ago as a barley “polenta” from Mary Savelli’s Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England. Whole barley was soaked, then simmered with butter, minced radish, beef broth, salt, and a whisper of cinnamon. It was mild enough to sit beside a richly seasoned beef dish, sturdy enough for feast service, and unusual enough to remain memorable.

It also left a question simmering at the back of the pot:

Where did the broth and cinnamon come from, and how closely does this recipe follow the Old English evidence?

The answer is more generous than a simple verdict of “authentic” or “invented.” The Lacnunga preserves genuine Old English instructions for thick briw made with barley meal, butter, radish, crop-leek, elecampane, salt, and prolonged cooking. Bald’s Leechbook assumes that cooks already knew how to turn fresh barley meal or groats into pottage. Later medieval and Renaissance sources then show barley flour or hulled barley entering preparations made with poultry broth, meat broth, beef-boiling liquor, almond milk, sugar, and cinnamon.

Mary Savelli’s recipe stands where those trails meet. It is not a transcription of one Anglo-Saxon recipe. It is better understood as a historically informed composite: an approachable modern dish built from a direct Old English core, later barley-pottage traditions, and the practical decisions required by a modern kitchen.

This article preserves Savelli’s recipe exactly as I received and cooked it, traces its evidence backward and forward, and offers a second reconstruction that begins with the ingredients and texture most securely supported by the Old English texts.

Why This Article Matters

  • It preserves Mary Savelli’s influential recipe rather than quietly replacing it.
  • It identifies the barley, radish, butter, salt, long cooking, and hot service that are directly supported by the Lacnunga.
  • It explains why briw is better understood as thick cereal pottage than thin broth.
  • It follows beef broth and cinnamon into later barley dishes without backdating them into the Anglo-Saxon source.
  • It separates a medicinal text, ordinary cooking knowledge, comparative evidence, and modern reconstruction.
  • It provides a conservative feast-table version for continued kitchen testing.

Mary Savelli’s Recipe Give It Forth Reconstruction

Historical Integrity Statement

No complete culinary recipe titled Beren Briw survives from Anglo-Saxon England. The phrase is a modern descriptive title assembled from genuine Old English vocabulary and can be understood approximately as “barley pottage.” The closest direct evidence is a cluster of medicinal briw instructions in the Lacnunga. These support barley meal, butter, radish, crop-leek, elecampane, white salt, long cooking, a thick consistency, and hot service. Beef broth and cinnamon are not named in those passages. They enter through later comparative barley cookery and Savelli’s modern reconstruction.

Hriðer Smeamete: An Anglo-Saxon Beef Reconstruction from Bald’s Leechbook to Pies of Paris

Hriðer Smeamete recipe, Anglo-Saxon beef recipe, Bald's Leechbook beef, hryþeren flæsc, Mary Savelli stewed beef, Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England, early medieval beef stew, beef with honey and vinegar, Anthimus beef casserole, Pies of Paris, medieval meat and fruit pie, historical beef reconstruction, Anglo-Saxon feast recipe

Hriðer Smeamete: An Anglo-Saxon Beef Reconstruction from Bald’s Leechbook to Pies of Paris

Hriðer Smeamete entered my kitchen more than twenty years ago as a sweet, spiced beef casserole from Mary Savelli’s Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England. Beef was browned, layered with apple, raisins, and dates, moistened with honey, wine, vinegar, and saffron, enclosed beneath breadcrumbs, and baked. It was rich, fragrant, and memorable. It also raised a difficult question:

How much of this dish can actually be traced to Anglo-Saxon evidence, and where do its later medieval features begin?

The answer is more interesting than a simple verdict of authentic or invented. A tenth-century Old English medical text preserves a genuine preparation of cattle meat cooked in vinegar and seasoned with oil, salt, dill, and leek. A sixth-century dietetic written by Anthimus gives a fuller beef casserole with vinegar, honey, wine, pepper, leeks, herbs, and aromatic spices. Later English cookery books document an increasingly elaborate tradition of meat combined with dried fruit, sweetness, spice, and pastry. By the fifteenth century, Pyej de parej, or Pies of Paris, had gathered many of those elements into a single baked dish.

Mary Savelli’s casserole stands where those trails meet. It is not a surviving Anglo-Saxon recipe, and it should not be presented as one. It is a modern composite reconstruction built from real but widely separated evidence. This article preserves Savelli’s original recipe, traces its ingredients and structure backward and forward through the sources, and offers a second reconstruction that begins with the directly attested Old English preparation.

Why This Article Matters

  • It documents the complete evidence trail instead of presenting a modern redaction as a recovered recipe.
  • It separates an Old English medical food from later comparative culinary evidence.
  • It shows how translated Mediterranean knowledge became part of Anglo-Saxon literary and practical culture.
  • It follows meat, fruit, honey, vinegar, wine, spice, and baked coverings into later English cookery.
  • It preserves Mary Savelli’s influential reconstruction while making its assumptions visible.
  • It provides a second, evidence-weighted version for continued kitchen testing.
Historical Integrity Statement:

No culinary recipe titled Hriðer Smeamete survives from Anglo-Saxon England. Mary Savelli’s title appears to be a modern construction made from genuine Old English vocabulary. The closest direct evidence is a brief dietary instruction in Bald’s Leechbook for hryþeren flæsc, cattle meat cooked in vinegar and seasoned with oil, salt, dill, and leek. Honey, wine, pepper, fruit, imported spices, breadcrumbs, and the baked casserole structure enter through comparative sources or modern reconstruction.

Hlaf: Bread at the Anglo-Saxon Table: How Grain, Fermentation, and Daily Bread Sustained Early Medieval England

Hlaf: Bread at the Anglo-Saxon Table

Bread, grain, leaven, and the foundation of daily life in early medieval England.


Historic illustration of a Roman bakery showing bread ovens and professional bakers.

Image note: Mary Savelli's Ceilidh XVI: An Anglo-Saxon Feast inspired this exploration into one of the oldest and most important foods of early medieval England. Building upon her work, this article combines archaeology, primary sources, medieval medicine, fermentation research, and practical reconstruction to examine what Anglo-Saxon bread may have been.

“Without bread every food is turned to loathing.”
—The Baker in Ælfric's Colloquy

Before the first spoonful of pottage was eaten, before the ale was poured, and before roasted meats appeared upon the table, there was bread.

To the Anglo-Saxons, bread was far more than another item on the meal. It represented hospitality, prosperity, nourishment, and community. Every meal began with it. Every household depended upon it. Even the Old English word hlaf, meaning loaf or bread, preserves the importance of bread in daily life.

Unlike many later medieval cookbooks, Anglo-Saxon England left us almost no complete bread recipes. No surviving manuscript tells us precisely how much flour was mixed with how much water, how long the dough rested, or exactly how hot the oven should have been.

Caules Wyrtmete: Reconstructing an Anglo-Saxon Cabbage Salad from Medical Texts

Originally served at Ceilidh XVI on March 29, 2003. Updated and expanded with additional historical research in 2026.

Caules Wyrtmete: Reconstructing an Anglo-Saxon Cabbage Salad from Medical Texts

When I reconstructed the menu for Ceilidh XVI in 2003, one of the simplest dishes on the table was a cabbage salad called Caules Wyrtmete. Made with cabbage, peas, leeks, vinegar, oil, and cheese, it seemed a practical addition to an Anglo-Saxon feast. Yet revisiting the sources revealed something far more interesting: the strongest evidence for this dish was not a cookbook, but a medical manuscript.

Rather than a direct copy of a surviving Anglo-Saxon recipe, Caules Wyrtmete explores the space where food, medicine, garden produce, and feast reconstruction meet. The result is a dish that asks one of the most interesting questions in historical cookery: can a feast dish be responsibly reconstructed from a remedy?

What began as a simple cabbage salad eventually led through Anglo-Saxon medicine, Roman dietary theory, and a remedy for dysentery preserved in one of England's most important medical manuscripts. The deeper the investigation went, the less the dish resembled a salad at all.

Reconstructing an Anglo-Saxon Feast: Ceilidh XVI Revisited (2003–2026)

Reconstructing an Anglo-Saxon Feast: Ceilidh XVI Revisited (2003–2026)

What began as a simple update to an old feast post became something much more interesting: a return to the table with better sources, sharper questions, and a little culinary archaeology.

Anglo-Saxon inspired feast prepared for Ceilidh XVI in 2003
Ceilidh XVI, March 29, 2003. An Anglo-Saxon inspired feast revisited more than twenty years later through updated sources, culinary archaeology, and historical reconstruction.

Original Feast Record: This post revisits an Anglo-Saxon inspired feast cooked for Ceilidh XVI on March 29, 2003, and later documented on Give It Forth in 2015.

Read the preserved original feast post here.

In March of 2003, I prepared an Anglo-Saxon inspired feast for Ceilidh XVI. At the time, I relied heavily on the sources available to me, especially Mary Savelli’s Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England. Twelve years later, in 2015, I documented the menu and recipes on Give It Forth. Now, more than two decades after the feast itself, I am returning to that table with fresh eyes.

This revisit is not meant to erase the original feast. The old post remains part of the record: a snapshot of what I knew, what I could access, and how I interpreted Anglo-Saxon foodways at the time. Instead, this new hub gathers updated research, source links, and revised questions as I work through the menu dish by dish.

Some recipes may stand up better than expected. Others may need to be reframed as interpretive, Roman-influenced, or modern stand-ins. A few may even prove more historically thoughtful than their critics have allowed.

Culinary Archaeology Note: For this revisit, I am separating the original feast record from the updated research. The 2015 post preserves the menu and recipes as they were remembered and recorded. This hub asks what we can learn now by returning to the sources.

The Original Menu

First Course

Second Course

  • Hriðer Smeamete – Stewed Beef
    Updated recipe post: coming soon
  • Beren Briw – Barley Polenta
    Updated recipe post: coming soon
  • Hunigbæe Moran – Honeyed Carrots
    Updated recipe post: coming soon

Third Course

  • Sciellfisc – Shellfish
    Updated recipe post: coming soon
  • Brǣdan Fisc – Fish Baked with Coriander
    Updated recipe post: coming soon
  • Pisan – Peas with Salt and Oil
    Updated recipe post: coming soon

Fourth Course

  • Sumerlio Mearhgehæcc – Summer Pudding
    Updated research note: coming soon
  • Hunigæppel – Honey Nut Cakes
    Updated recipe post: coming soon

Anglo-Saxon Dining at a Glance

  • Seasonality mattered. Fresh foods, preserved foods, dairy, fish, and meats all followed the rhythm of the year.
  • Bread was central. Many meals were built around bread with an accompaniment, relish, cheese, meat, fish, or pottage.
  • Boiling and stewing were common. These methods made practical use of tough meats, salt meats, grains, legumes, and vegetables.
  • Food and medicine overlapped. Medical texts regularly used common kitchen ingredients such as apples, herbs, honey, vinegar, butter, milk, and ale.
  • Sharp sauces had a purpose. Tart fruit, vinegar, herbs, and spices could help balance rich foods and aid digestion.

Why Revisit This Feast?

Anglo-Saxon food is difficult to reconstruct. Unlike later medieval English cookery, we do not have a large body of direct culinary recipe collections from the period. Instead, evidence must be gathered from many places: medical texts, herbals, glossaries, food rents, archaeology, monastic rules, later culinary traditions, and comparative Roman or early medieval sources.

That means any reconstructed Anglo-Saxon feast requires caution. It also means that some older reconstructions, especially those written for practical cooks, may be more thoughtful than they first appear. They may not always show their full source trail, but that does not mean there was no trail.

One of the most interesting examples from this feast is Æppla Syfling, originally presented as “apple butter.” At first glance, the recipe looks odd to modern readers: apples, apple juice, honey, black pepper, mint, and cumin. But when examined beside Ann Hagen’s work on Anglo-Saxon food, Bald’s Leechbook, and Apicius, the dish begins to look less like a sweet spread and more like a tart, savory sauce meant to accompany meat or fish.

Food as Medicine in Anglo-Saxon England

One of the most useful ways to understand this feast is through the idea that food and medicine were not sharply separated. Anglo-Saxon medical texts often use ordinary ingredients: apples, herbs, butter, honey, vinegar, milk, ale, grains, and meats. These foods could nourish, strengthen, soothe, stimulate, cool, warm, or aid digestion.

This does not mean every meal was planned according to the fully developed humoral theory familiar from later medieval medicine and cookery. But it does suggest that Anglo-Saxon cooks and healers understood food as something that affected the body. A dish could be pleasurable and practical. A sauce could taste good and help rich food sit better in the stomach.

Food as Medicine: The pantry and the pharmacy were close neighbors in early medieval England. Herbs, fruits, honey, vinegar, dairy, and grains appear in medical texts not as exotic curiosities, but as everyday materials used to restore, strengthen, soothe, and balance the body.

Medical and herbal texts circulating in Anglo-Saxon England also support this broader food-as-medicine context. The Old English Herbarium, derived from the late antique Herbarium of Pseudo-Apuleius, survives in several manuscripts and belongs to the same world of practical plant knowledge as the leechbooks. These texts show a culture in which herbs and foods were understood through their effects on the body.

For this feast, that matters. Mint, cumin, pepper, vinegar, honey, apples, and other ingredients were not merely flavorings. They carried associations with digestion, appetite, preservation, and bodily comfort.

Page from Bald's Leechbook Anglo-Saxon medical manuscript
Bald’s Leechbook, a 10th-century Old English medical manuscript preserving remedies using familiar foods and herbs, including preparations involving apples, mint, cumin, and pepper.

Source Spotlight: Bald’s Leechbook

Bald’s Leechbook is a 10th-century Old English medical collection. It is not a cookbook, but it is filled with preparations using familiar foods and herbs. That makes it valuable for understanding how Anglo-Saxon people thought about ingredients, digestion, and bodily effects.

The apple preparation that seems most relevant to Æppla Syfling involves sour apples or crabapples with mint, pepper, and cumin in a digestive context. This does not prove that the dish was served at table exactly as Mary Savelli reconstructed it. It does show that apples, herbs, and warming spices belonged together in an Anglo-Saxon medicinal-food vocabulary.

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Roman Echoes: Apicius

Roman Influence: Apicius preserves a number of sharp, savory sauces that combine herbs, spices, honey, vinegar, and fish or shellfish broth. These are not Anglo-Saxon recipes, but they help show a wider ancient and early medieval taste for sweet, sour, herbal, and savory combinations.

A Roman parallel? John Edwards’ The Roman Cookery of Apicius includes cumin sauces for oysters and shellfish using mint, cumin, pepper, honey, and vinegar. While not Anglo-Saxon, these flavor combinations help contextualize the sharp, herbal qualities of Æppla Syfling.

This matters because Mary Savelli’s apple recipe includes honey, mint, cumin, and pepper: a combination that looks much less strange when compared with Roman sauces for fish and shellfish. The Roman evidence does not make Æppla Syfling Roman, but it helps explain the culinary logic behind a sharp, spiced sauce served with rich or savory foods.

Case Study: Æppla Syfling

The apple dish may become the first full deep-dive in this revisit because it reveals how complex early food reconstruction can be.

Mary Savelli’s recipe uses apples, apple cider or juice, honey, black pepper, mint, and cumin. At first glance, calling this “apple butter” encourages modern readers to imagine a sweet spread for bread. But the evidence points in another direction.

  • Hagen: Fruit sauces could accompany meat and fish and help “cut the fat.”
  • Bald’s Leechbook: A preparation involving sour apples or crabapples appears with mint, pepper, and cumin in a digestive context.
  • Apicius: Roman sauces for shellfish include sharp combinations of pepper, mint, cumin, honey, vinegar, and broth.

Taken together, these sources suggest that Æppla Syfling may be more plausible as a savory apple sauce than as a modern-style apple butter. It may belong beside sausage, pork, beef, or fish rather than on breakfast toast.

Working Interpretation: Æppla Syfling was likely tart, herbal, lightly sweetened, and digestive. A modern reconstruction should probably lean toward crabapples or tart apples, less honey, and a sauce-like texture rather than a heavily reduced preserve.

Full research post: Æppla Syfling: Anglo-Saxon Apple Butter or Savory Apple Sauce? 

Reconsidering Mary Savelli

Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England has often been criticized because many of its recipes are interpretive. That criticism is understandable. Anglo-Saxon cooking sources are sparse, and modern readers often want direct manuscript recipes with clear instructions.

However, this revisit suggests that at least some of Savelli’s reconstructions may deserve a more generous reading. The apple dish, for example, appears to draw from a recognizable source pattern: Hagen’s discussion of fruit sauces, Bald’s Leechbook and its apple preparation, and Apicius as a comparative model for sharp, spiced sauces with honey, mint, cumin, and pepper.

That does not make the reconstruction certain. It does make it historically defensible. For Anglo-Saxon foodways, where the evidence is fragmentary, that distinction matters.

What I Would Change Today

Revisiting a feast after more than twenty years feels a little like opening an old cookbook written by another version of myself. Some choices still surprise me. Some make me wince a little. Others, unexpectedly, make more sense now than they did then.

Historical cooking changes as research changes. Revisiting old work is not about proving younger versions of ourselves wrong. It is about understanding the choices we made, learning what we missed, and asking better questions. Sometimes old recipes need correction. Sometimes they need context. And sometimes they turn out to have a better source trail than expected.

That is what makes this revisit so exciting. It is not simply a recipe update. It is a chance to ask how Anglo-Saxon people may have thought about food: as nourishment, medicine, status, seasonality, pleasure, and comfort.

Recipe Status and Research Notes

As I revisit each dish, I will sort the recipes into broad categories:

  • Historically Grounded: Recipes or dishes with strong support from Anglo-Saxon sources or foodways.
  • Interpretive Reconstruction: Dishes built from plausible ingredients, methods, archaeology, or comparative evidence.
  • Roman or Classical Influence: Recipes drawn from Apicius or other Roman sources used to fill gaps or show culinary continuity.
  • Modern Stand-In: Dishes included for feast service, seasonality, or practical reasons but not directly Anglo-Saxon.

This does not make the original feast “wrong.” It makes the update more transparent. Readers can see where the evidence is strong, where it is speculative, and where the cook made practical choices.

Updated Recipe Links

As each recipe is revisited, I will add the updated posts below.

Frequently Asked Questions About Anglo-Saxon Food

Did Anglo-Saxons use spices?

Yes. Pepper, cumin, coriander, and other seasonings appear in medical, herbal, and comparative culinary contexts. Imported spices were not everyday peasant staples, but they were known and used in elite, medical, and monastic settings.

Was Anglo-Saxon food bland?

Not necessarily. Herbs, vinegar, honey, dairy, salt, preserved foods, and imported spices could create complex flavors. The surviving evidence suggests a cuisine that could be sharp, herbal, rich, smoky, sour, sweet, and savory.

Did Anglo-Saxons eat apples with meat?

Direct culinary recipes are scarce, but evidence from Ann Hagen’s work, Bald’s Leechbook, and later medieval English foodways suggests that fruit sauces could accompany meat and fish. Tart apple preparations may have helped balance rich foods.

Was food considered medicine?

Often, yes. Anglo-Saxon medical texts regularly use ordinary foods and kitchen ingredients. This does not mean every meal was medicinal, but it does show that food and bodily health were closely connected.

Did Anglo-Saxons use humoral theory?

Anglo-Saxon medical culture inherited ideas from classical and late antique medicine, but the elaborate humoral meal planning familiar from later medieval Europe was not yet fully developed. It is safer to speak of digestive logic, bodily effects, and food-as-medicine rather than fully formalized humoral dining.

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Sources and Further Reading

  • Original Give It Forth feast record: Ceilidh XVI – March 29, 2003
  • Mary Savelli, Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England. Anglo-Saxon Books, 2002.
  • Ann Hagen, Anglo-Saxon Food: Processing & Consumption. University College London, 1992.
  • Thomas Oswald Cockayne, ed., Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England.
  • Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, Volume II.
  • Apicius, Cookery and Dining in Imperial Rome, translated by Joseph Dommers Vehling.
  • Herbarium of Pseudo-Apuleius, Old English herbal tradition.

Next in this series: The first full recipe investigation will look at Æppla Syfling and ask whether this so-called Anglo-Saxon “apple butter” is better understood as a tart apple sauce for meat and fish.

What do you think? Would you spread Æppla Syfling on bread, or serve it beside roasted meat?

Kitchen Adventures – SCA Feast (Ceilidh XVI March 29th, 2003)

Ceilidh XVI – March 29, 2003

Featuring several recipes from Mary Savelli’s Tastes of Anglo-Saxon England

First Course

  • Mearh Smeamete – Sausage Casserole
  • Hlaf – Bread
  • Æppla Syfling – Apple Butter
  • Caules Wyrtmete – Cabbage Salad

Second Course

  • Hriðer Smeamete – Stewed Beef
  • Beren Briw – Barley Polenta
  • Hunigbæe Moran – Honeyed Carrots

Third Course

  • Sciellfisc – Shellfish*
  • Brǣdan Fisc – Fish Baked with Coriander*
  • Pisan – Peas with Salt and Oil*

Fourth Course

  • Sumerlio Mearhgehæcc – Summer Pudding***
  • Hunigæppel – Honey Nut Cakes

Caveat: It has been 12 years since this banquet was cooked. Once again, many of my redactions have been lost to time. Several recipes, denoted with an asterisk (*), are my best guesses on food that could have been served based on archaeological digs and cooking methods. The “Fish Baked with Coriander” is Roman in origin, as are the Honey Nut Cakes. Summer pudding is modern in origin. I have taken my best guess on the names for the items that are not Anglo-Saxon in origin.

Image taken from Jen Delyth Celtic Art Studio

Mearh Smeamete – Sausage Casserole

Serves 6

  • 1 small onion, chopped
  • 1 tbsp. oil
  • 1 pound pork sausage
  • 1 large apple, chopped
  • ½ tsp. each salt and cinnamon
  • ¼ tsp. each black pepper and cardamom
  • 2 tbsp. white wine vinegar
  • ¼ cup butter
  • ¼ cup flour
  • 2 cups milk
  • Approximately 2 cups cubed bread
  • 1 large baking dish

Preheat oven to 375°F. Grease the casserole dish with butter and line the bottom of the dish with half of the bread. Heat oil and sauté the onion and sausage. Stir the apple into the sausage mixture and spoon it over the bread in the casserole dish. Sprinkle with seasonings and vinegar; set the dish aside.

In a saucepan, melt the butter, stirring in the flour to form a roux. Add the milk all at once and stir until thickened and bubbly. Spoon this mixture over the sausage and apple. Top with the remaining bread and bake in a casserole, uncovered, for 30 minutes (Savelli, 2002).

Hlaf – Bread

Guests were offered rye, oat, and wheat breads purchased at the local bakery. The bakery uses sourdough starter to make its bread.

Æppla Syfling – Apple Butter

Makes 1½ cups

  • 2 medium apples, peeled and finely chopped
  • 1 cup apple cider (or apple juice)
  • 2 tbsp. honey
  • ⅛ tsp. ground black pepper
  • ¼ tsp. each dried mint and cumin leaves

Boil the apples in the cider for 30 minutes or until soft; purée. Thoroughly mix the remaining ingredients into the apple purée and cool.

Caules Wyrtmete – Cabbage Salad

Serves 4

  • ½ head of cabbage, shredded and rinsed
  • 2–4 spinach leaves, torn and rinsed
  • 1 small leek, chopped fine
  • ½ cup fresh or frozen peas, cooked and cooled
  • ½ cup feta cheese, cubed
  • ¼ cup cider vinegar
  • ½ cup olive or salad oil
  • ¼ tsp. each salt and pepper, or to taste

Toss the vegetables together in a large bowl. Mix together the salt, pepper, oil, and vinegar and pour over the salad, tossing gently. Top with cheese.

Hriðer Smeamete – Stewed Beef

Serves 4–6

  • ¼ tsp. saffron threads
  • 1 tbsp. hot water
  • 1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
  • 1½ to 2 pounds stewing beef or beef brisket
  • 2 tbsp. oil
  • ¾ cup dried breadcrumbs
  • 1 small apple, chopped
  • ¼ cup raisins
  • ¼ cup dates, chopped
  • ½ cup honey
  • ½ tsp. salt
  • ¼ tsp. each ground black pepper and cinnamon
  • ¼ cup apple juice (or dry red wine)
  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • 1 baking dish

Preheat oven to 375°F. Crush the saffron and add it to the hot water and vinegar; set aside. Brown the beef in the oil and set aside. Grease the casserole dish with butter and spread ½ cup of breadcrumbs in the bottom of the dish.

Spread the beef, fruit, saffron water, and other spices evenly over the crumbs. Mix the honey with the wine and gently pour this mixture over the beef. Spread the remaining breadcrumbs over the beef and dot the crumbs with butter. Bake for 45 minutes or until done.

Beren Briw – Barley Polenta

  • 1 cup barley
  • 4 cups water
  • 4 radishes, minced
  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • ½ cup water
  • 1¾ cups beef broth or stock
  • ½ tsp. salt
  • ⅛ tsp. cinnamon

Soak the barley in water for four hours. Drain the water and reserve the barley. Melt the butter in a medium saucepan and sauté the radish. Stir in the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover the pan with a lid, and let the mixture simmer until the barley is tender, approximately 40–60 minutes.

Hunigbæe Moran – Honeyed Carrots

Serves 4–6

  • 1 pound carrots, peeled and sliced
  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • 2 tbsp. honey
  • ¼ tsp. salt
  • ⅛ tsp. ground ginger

Bring a saucepan of water to a boil and cook the carrots until tender, approximately 10–15 minutes. Drain well.

Melt the butter in the saucepan and stir in the honey, salt, and ginger. Add the carrots and toss gently to coat. Heat through and serve warm.

Sciellfisc – Shellfish*

Mussels were served for the shellfish course. Mussels were likely known to the Anglo-Saxons and may have been gathered from coastal waters and estuaries. They were served simply with butter.

Brǣdan Fisc – Fish Baked with Coriander*

Serves 4–6

  • 1½–2 pounds firm white fish
  • 2 tbsp. olive oil
  • 1 tsp. ground coriander
  • ¼ tsp. black pepper
  • ¼ tsp. salt

Preheat oven to 375°F. Place the fish in a lightly greased baking dish. Rub with olive oil and sprinkle evenly with coriander, pepper, and salt. Bake uncovered for approximately 20–30 minutes, or until the fish flakes easily.

This dish is Roman in origin and inspired by recipes found in Apicius.

Pisan – Peas with Salt and Oil*

Serves 4–6

  • 2 cups peas, fresh or frozen
  • 1 tbsp. olive oil
  • Salt to taste

Cook the peas until tender and drain. Toss with olive oil and salt before serving.

Sumerlio Mearhgehæcc – Summer Pudding***

Serves 6–8

  • 1 loaf firm white bread, crusts removed
  • 4 cups mixed summer berries
  • ½ cup sugar
  • 2 tbsp. water

Combine the berries, sugar, and water in a saucepan and cook gently until the berries soften and release their juices.

Line a bowl with slices of bread. Spoon the berry mixture into the bowl and cover with additional bread. Cover and chill overnight. Unmold and serve cold.

Note: Summer pudding is modern in origin and was included as an interpretive dessert.

Hunigæppel – Honey Nut Cakes

Makes approximately 12 cakes

  • 1 cup flour
  • ½ cup honey
  • ½ cup chopped nuts
  • 1 egg
  • ¼ tsp. cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350°F. Mix together all ingredients until combined. Spoon onto a greased baking sheet and bake for approximately 12–15 minutes, or until lightly golden.


Final Notes: This feast represented an early attempt to reconstruct Anglo-Saxon foodways using the sources available at the time. While some dishes were based on historical texts and archaeological evidence, others were interpretive in nature. As additional research becomes available, these recipes may continue to evolve.