Renaissance Bolognese Sausages – Salsiccioni Bolognesi from a 1560 Carnivale Feast

Bolognese Sausages – Salsiccioni Bolognesi

Bolognese sausages served with chicken pinwheels as part of the Primo servitio posto in tavola, the first service from Domenico Romoli’s 1560 Carnivale feast.

These were the surprise champion of the first service. Of all the dishes placed on the table for the Primo servitio posto in tavola, the Bolognese sausages were the ones people fought over. The cold roasted crane-style chicken may have been the prestige dish in theory, but at our table the sausages staged a quiet little coup and vanished.

That reaction makes sense. These sausages are familiar enough to be comforting, but layered enough to make people stop and wonder what they are tasting. Pork, fat, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, rosewater, and cheese come together into something warm, subtle, and deeply savory. Nobody guessed that there was cheese in the sausage, and nobody could taste the rosewater directly, but everyone knew there was something more than pork happening.

This is exactly the sort of dish that makes Renaissance food so interesting. It is not strange for the sake of strangeness. It is rich, careful, elegant, and festive. A courtly sausage, if such a thing can be said without sounding ridiculous.

Why Bolognese?

The word “Bolognese” matters here. Bologna was already associated with fine pork products and sausage-making, and specifying Bolognese sausage likely signaled more than geography. It suggested a recognizable style: refined, carefully made, and worthy of a formal table.

Much as certain modern regional food names carry expectations of quality, “Bolognese” in a Renaissance feast menu may have told diners that these were not ordinary rustic sausages. They belonged to the world of urban craft, skilled butchery, and prestige foods. In one period-style description of Bolognese practice, the sausages are described as being made “for princes,” which is too wonderful a phrase to leave sitting quietly in the corner.

In other words, these are not merely pork tubes. These are pork tubes with credentials.

The Scappi Version: Courtly, Spiced, and Delicate

The main recipe used for this redaction comes from Bartolomeo Scappi’s Opera dell’arte del cucinare, Book II. Scappi’s sausage is not smoky or aggressively rustic. It is finely worked, warmly spiced, and softened with rosewater and, if desired, grated cheese. The cheese does not make the sausage taste cheesy. Instead, it gives depth, savoriness, and a richer mouthfeel.

The rosewater is especially interesting. Modern cooks often worry that rosewater will make savory food taste like perfume, but in this sausage it did not announce itself at all. I diluted the rosewater by half with plain water because modern rosewater can be strong. After the sausage mixture rested for a few days before cooking, no one could identify a floral flavor. My suspicion is that the rosewater functions partly as an aromatic liquid to help distribute the spices evenly through the meat.

📜 Period Italian and English Translation

Italian, Scappi, Opera, Book II	Faithful English Translation
Prendi carne magra di porco ben netta di nervi, & grassa buona nella sua proportione; pestala finemente con pepe, cannella, garofani, noce moscata, & un poco di zenzero; aggiungendovi sale quanto basta, & acqua rosata; et se vuoi farle più delicate, mettivi del formaggio grattugiato. Poi insaccale in budelli sottili, & falle cuocere in acqua, o rostirle alla graticola.	Take lean pork well cleaned of sinews, and good fat in proper proportion; pound it finely with pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and a little ginger; adding salt as needed, and rosewater. And if you wish to make them more delicate, add grated cheese. Then stuff them into thin casings, and cook them in water, or roast them on the grill.

A Bolognese Variant: Sausages for Princes

There is also a regional Bolognese-style sausage tradition that describes lean pork or veal, beaten very fine, seasoned with salt and pepper, stuffed into larger casings, made about the length of a hand, and dried in smoke. A richer immediate-use version could be made with half lean meat and half fat, with fennel added, though that version was not intended for keeping.

This distinction is useful. Scappi’s version is delicate and courtly, with rosewater, spice, and optional cheese. The Bolognese variant emphasizes regional practice, size, drying, and smoking. Together they suggest why “Bolognese” was worth naming on a feast menu: the word carried culinary weight.

📜 Period-Style Bolognese Reconstruction

Italian

English Translation

Salsicce bolognesi Se vuoi fare buone salsicce bolognesi, togli carne di porco o di vitello della coscia, senza nervi né grasso, et pestala quanto puoi. Aggiungi sale et pepe, et mescola bene. Poi togli budella grandi, nettale et lavale bene, et empile forte della carne, et falle lunghe quanto una mano, secondo l’uso di Bologna. Poi ponile ad asciugare al fumo. Et così le fanno per i principi. Et se vorrai, puoi farle più grasse con metà carne magra et metà grasso, et con buon finocchio, ma queste non sono da serbare.

Bolognese Sausages If you wish to make good Bolognese sausages, take pork or veal from the haunch, without sinew or fat, and beat it as much as you can. Add salt and pepper and mix well. Then take large intestines, clean and wash them well, and fill them firmly with the meat, making them the length of a hand, according to the custom of Bologna. Then set them to dry in smoke. Thus are they made for princes. And if you wish, you may make them fatter with half lean meat and half fat, adding good fennel, but those are not for keeping.

Humoral and Feast Context

These sausages make excellent sense in a first service. Pork is rich, fatty, and satisfying, but the warming spices transform it into something more refined. Pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and ginger all bring heat and digestive stimulation. In humoral terms, this is food meant to wake the appetite and prepare the stomach for the courses to come.

That richness is balanced by the rest of the Primo servitio. Bitter chicory, dressed citron, sharp capers, carrot salad, cold roasted bird, and savory meats all work together. The capers are especially important because they appear repeatedly throughout the larger feast. They are not just garnish. They are little salty, acidic punctuation marks that cut through fat and keep the table lively.

This is one of the things I love about reconstructing an entire service rather than an isolated dish. You begin to see the rhythm of the table. Romoli is not simply listing foods. He is building contrast.

At Our Table

These sausages were the clear favorite of the first service. They were warm, subtle, and delicious. The spice was present, but not loud. It did not taste like modern breakfast sausage, nor did it taste like a sweet sausage. Instead, the flavor was courtly and layered: familiar pork, softened by fat and cheese, lifted by warm spices, and rounded in a way that made people keep reaching for more.

Nobody realized there was cheese in the sausage. Nobody tasted roses. But everyone knew there was something more than pork. That hidden richness is likely why the dish worked so well. The cheese gave savoriness without becoming obvious. The rosewater, diluted with water, helped carry the spices without turning the dish floral.

For this reconstruction, I included fennel, following the richer non-keeping Bolognese tradition described in period sources. The result felt especially harmonious with the warm spice blend and likely contributed to the sausage’s broad appeal at the table.

By the end of the meal, there were leftover pieces of the cold crane-style chicken and some chicory salad. There were no leftover sausages. That says everything.

No Casings? A Modern Kitchen Solution

Traditional sausage casings are ideal if you have them, but I did not use casings for this feast. Instead, I shaped the sausage mixture in plastic wrap, twisting the ends tightly to form compact logs. I placed the wrapped sausages in a shallow pan and gently simmered them until set. After poaching, I unwrapped them and finished them in a pan with a little oil to brown the outside.

This is not a period technique, but it is a practical and effective modern adaptation. It lets the cook make historical sausage without needing special equipment, casings, or a sausage stuffer. The result held its shape, sliced well, and was good enough that the platter emptied.

Testa di Ruffolatto Fredda – Cold Pressed Young Boar in Gelée (Carnivale Feast)

Published: May 21, 2026

Testa di Ruffolatto Fredda - Cold Pressed Young Boar in Gelée (Carnivale Feast)

Testa di Ruffolatto Fredda, or cold young boar head meat, was one of the most surprising dishes served during the Carnivale Feast. It appeared on the table cold, sliced, and set in its own natural jelly. For many modern diners, the texture was unfamiliar at first. The flavor, however, won them over completely.

This was not a dish most of us eat regularly. Cold meat suspended in savory gelée can feel strange to modern palates accustomed to sliced deli meats, pâtés, or pulled pork. Yet by the end of the feast, there was none left. The turning point came when someone spread a slice onto warm bread, allowing the natural jelly to melt into it. Then someone else added capers. After that, everyone had to try it.

Testa di Ruffolatto Fredda served alongside caponi sopramenti pinwheels during the Carnivale Feast. Though unfamiliar in texture to many modern diners, the rich flavor quickly won people over.

The Original Source

This reconstruction draws on an Italian jelly-meat recipe from Libro di cucina / Libro per cuoco, a 14th/15th-century Italian culinary text translated by Louise Smithson. The recipe is not a modern head cheese recipe, but it gives us a clear period method for producing a meat jelly from collagen-rich cuts and spiced broth.

XXXI - Jelly of whatever meat. If you want to make a good jelly of any meat: of meat of pork of the woods (boar), take ears and feet and each thing, and capons and partridge, and thrush, and hare, and roebuck (venison), and pheasant, take these things and put these to the fire in part water and part vinegar and when they are boiled and well skimmed, put spices and pepper and cinnamon and ginger and saffron not beaten together, that you choose is enough with the meat. And when the meat it is enough cooked pull it out, until remains the ears and the feet until it is of enough substance. When it is pulled all these things from, pulverize all the meat and spices, and take the jelly from the fire and let it stand, and take saffron and temper with jelly and place the meat into a vessel that you want that is lined with bay leaves and put over this jelly and strain the jelly and saffron with wool (through a cloth). When it is strained over the meat, take sweet spices and mix with this same jelly and pour it above, it should be colored and good yellow, and put with to boil from that which is come together, and it will be a good jelly.

The method is wonderfully practical: cook collagen-rich meats in water and vinegar, skim carefully, season with spices, strain the broth, arrange the meat in a vessel, and allow the natural jelly to set. The result is a cold, sliceable meat dish suitable for display and service.

What Is a Ruffolatto?

At first, the word ruffolatto raised questions. It can look obscure to a modern reader, and it is easy to confuse this dish with other animal-head preparations from the same feast. However, the Grande Dizionario della Lingua Italiana identifies rufalotto, ruffolatto, and rufolatto as a young wild boar, specifically a cinghiale di pochi mesi, or a wild boar of only a few months.

This matters. The dish is not goat. It is associated with young wild boar, a prestigious game animal and an appropriate choice for a lavish Carnival banquet before the restrictions of Lent. Young boar would have offered tender meat, rich flavor, and excellent natural gelatin.

Because young wild boar is difficult to source for a modern kitchen, this feast reconstruction used country-style pork ribs. They were inexpensive, available, flavorful, and, most importantly, produced an excellent natural jelly without added gelatin.

A Cold Dish for a Banquet Table

Modern diners often imagine historical feasts as a parade of hot dishes brought steaming from the kitchen. In reality, many Renaissance banquet foods were served cool, cold, or temperate. Salads, preserved fruits, sliced meats, cured meats, jellied preparations, and composed dishes could be prepared ahead, arranged carefully, and served from the sideboard or brought to the table as part of a larger service.

Testa di Ruffolatto Fredda fits that logic beautifully. It was not a hurried dish. It required time, patience, careful skimming, cooling, and setting. Once prepared, it could be sliced and arranged neatly for the table, making it ideal for a feast with many dishes served together.

Nose-to-Tail Cooking and Banquet Luxury

To modern ears, head meat and jellied pork may sound humble or even intimidating. In historical kitchens, however, collagen-rich cuts were valuable. Feet, ears, heads, skin, bones, and joints were not waste. They were the source of texture, body, richness, and natural gelée.

This was not merely survival food. In an elite context, a well-made meat jelly showed skill. The broth needed to be skimmed cleanly, the meat cooked until tender, the seasoning balanced, and the final dish set firmly enough to slice. It was thrift and luxury at the same time, the sort of kitchen alchemy historical cooks understood deeply.

Why All the Skimming?

One of the least glamorous but most important parts of the process was skimming the pot during the first stage of cooking. As the pork slowly heated, foam rose to the surface. This is normal. It is made up of coagulated proteins and impurities released from the meat.

Removing that foam helped produce a cleaner broth and a clearer finished jelly. The original recipe specifically calls for the meat to be “well skimmed,” and this turned out to be excellent advice. For a cold sliced dish, appearance matters. A well-skimmed broth gives the finished gelée a cleaner flavor and a better look.

Why It Set Without Gelatin

One of the surprises of this reconstruction was that no added gelatin was needed. The country-style ribs produced enough natural collagen to set the broth firmly on their own.

The process was simple but slow. The pork was cooked low and slow until the meat fell from the bones. The meat was strained from the broth, then the broth was allowed to rest overnight so the fat could rise and harden. Once the fat cap was removed, the broth was reheated until it melted, poured over the shredded meat in a loaf pan, and chilled until firm.

This is the heart of traditional aspic cookery: collagen, time, and cooling. No packet of gelatin. No modern shortcut. Just patient cooking and a broth rich enough to become its own structure.

The French Connection

If you have eaten French charcuterie, this dish may feel more familiar than it first sounds. It belongs to the same broad family as fromage de tête, English brawn, German Sülze, and other European jellied or pressed meats. These dishes differ by region and seasoning, but they share the same essential idea: tender cooked meat held together by a savory natural gel.

That comparison helped me understand the dish at table. The sliced testa was not strange once treated as charcuterie. It wanted bread. It wanted something sharp. It wanted the capers that were already part of the first service.

The Surprise of the Table

I will admit that I was surprised by how well this dish was received. This is not something most of us normally eat, and the mouthfeel was unfamiliar to several diners. Served cold, the gelée gives the meat a texture somewhere between terrine, aspic, and rich pork spread.

The flavor, however, was excellent: deeply porky, gently spiced, savory, and comforting. Once someone spread it on warm bread and the gel melted into the crumb, the dish suddenly made sense. Then someone added capers, bringing salt and acidity to the rich pork, and everyone wanted to try it.

Bread had been baked for the sops beneath the crane, represented at feast by chicken, rather than specifically for the testa. Serving warm bread with the cold meat was not the strictest interpretation of the original service. Still, fresh bread had been baked, and refusing to serve it while its ghost lingered through the hall would have been a very naughty thing indeed.

By the end of the feast, there was none left. For a dish many diners approached with caution, that felt like high praise.

How Would This Have Been Eaten?

A dish like this would most likely have been served cold and sliced, as it was at the feast. Diners could cut small portions with a knife and eat them alongside other dishes from the same service. In a banquet setting, foods were not always experienced in isolation. A bite of rich meat might be followed by capers, bitter greens, preserved citron, bread, or another contrasting flavor from the table.

The capers were not written into the testa recipe, but they were present in the same service and made excellent sense. Sharp, salty, acidic foods balance rich meats beautifully. In that sense, the diners who added capers were participating in the same flavor logic that made Renaissance banquet tables so compelling.

Humoral Notes

In humoral thinking, rich meats and gelatinous broths were often associated with nourishment and strength. A dish like this would have been substantial, warming, and sustaining, especially when made from a young animal and served as part of a lavish pre-Lenten feast.

The vinegar in the cooking liquid and the sharpness of accompaniments such as capers helped balance the richness of the meat. That balance between fat and acid, rich and sharp, soft and bright, is part of why the dish worked so well for modern diners too.

Insalata di Carote – Roasted Renaissance Carrot Salad (Primo Servitio)

Published: May 21, 2026

Insalata di Carote – Roasted Renaissance Carrot Salad (Primo Servitio)

Insalata di Carote, or carrot salad, appears as part of the Primo servitio posto in tavola, the first service placed upon the table, in the Carnivale Feast menu inspired by Domenico Romoli’s sixteenth-century Italian banquet tradition.

At first glance, this seems like one of the humbler dishes on the table. It appears beside chicory salad, shredded prosciutto, cold pressed head meat, citron dressed with rose vinegar, cold roasted crane, capers, capons, and Bolognese sausages. Yet this simple roasted carrot dish became one of the quiet successes of the feast. The carrots were sweet, almost parsnip-like, and the bright oil-and-vinegar dressing brought them beautifully into balance. By the end of the meal, not a single carrot remained.

Insalata di Carote served feast-style with hand-torn prosciutto. The original menu lists carrot salad and shredded prosciutto separately, but they paired beautifully on the same platter.

The Original Menu Context

Primo servitio posto in tavola

Insalata di cicoria bianca, insalata di carote, prosciutto sfilato, testa di ruffolatto fredda, fette di cedro condite con aceto rosato, zuccaro & cannella, grue arrosta fredda, capperini, capponi salpamentati & salsiccioni bolognesi.

Translation: White chicory salad, carrot salad, shredded prosciutto, cold pressed head meat, slices of citron dressed with rose vinegar, sugar, and cinnamon, cold roasted crane, capers, capons salpamentati, and Bolognese sausages.

This carrot salad belongs to the same opening service as Insalata di Cicoria Bianca con Uva Passera e Scalognetti, another light salad dish from the Carnivale Feast. Together, these dishes helped create contrast at the beginning of the meal: bitter greens, sweet roots, sharp vinegar, salty cured meat, preserved fruit, and rich cold meats.

What Was the Primo Servitio?

In Renaissance Italian dining, a servitio was not simply a modern course in the plated sense. It was a structured presentation of several dishes placed before the diners, often emphasizing variety, abundance, and contrast. The primo servitio posto in tavola, or first service placed on the table, acted as the opening movement of the banquet.

Rather than immediately overwhelming diners with the richest foods, the first service often included dishes that awakened the appetite: salads, dressed vegetables, cured meats, preserved fruits, capers, and cold or temperate preparations. These foods offered brightness, acidity, salt, sweetness, and texture before the heavier dishes of the meal appeared.

That makes a carrot salad more important than it first appears. It is not merely a side dish. It is part of the architecture of the table.

Italian Food, French-Style Service

For this modern recreation, the Carnivale Feast was served in a French-style manner, with multiple dishes available at once for diners to sample. This is a practical and familiar way to serve a historical feast today, especially when cooking for a group without the army of servers, carvers, and attendants available to elite households of the past.

Sixteenth-century Italian banquet service had its own logic. Dishes were organized into services, and many foods passed through the credenza, or sideboard, where they could be arranged, sliced, dressed, garnished, or otherwise finished before appearing at table. Cool and temperate dishes such as salads, cured meats, preserved fruits, and dressed vegetables were especially suited to this kind of preparation.

In the original menu, insalata di carote and prosciutto sfilato are listed as separate dishes. At feast, because serving dishes were limited and because the flavors worked so well together, the hand-torn prosciutto was placed over the roasted carrots. This should be understood as a feast presentation choice rather than a claim that the original dish required prosciutto. Happily, the pairing was delicious.

Reconstructing a Missing Recipe

No direct prescriptive recipe for insalata di carote has yet been identified in the Italian culinary sources consulted for this project. This is not unusual. Historical menus often preserve the names of dishes without explaining how they were prepared, especially when the preparation may have been familiar to contemporary cooks.

For this reconstruction, I consulted Platina’s De honesta voluptate et valetudine, Maestro Martino’s Libro de arte coquinaria, Bartolomeo Scappi’s Opera dell’arte del cucinare, and Domenico Romoli’s La singolare dottrina. While these sources do not appear to provide a direct carrot salad recipe, they do support a broader culinary pattern: vegetables could be cooked, cooled or served temperate, and dressed with oil, vinegar, salt, and sometimes spices.

The method used here follows that logic. The carrots were cooked until tender, cooled, and dressed simply with olive oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper. A small touch of honey was added for modern taste, softening the acidity of the vinegar and echoing the sweet-sour balance beloved in Renaissance cooking.

A Comparative Early Modern Sallet

Although the Italian recipe remains elusive, a later English example helps show that cooked root vegetables could indeed be treated as salads in early modern cuisine. Robert May’s The Accomplisht Cook includes a “Diverse Sallet Otherways” made with boiled parsnips arranged with small salad greens, watercress, lettuce, alexander buds, oil, and vinegar. In a modern redaction of that dish, carrots and parsnips are often paired together.

This does not prove that Romoli’s insalata di carote was prepared in the same way. It does, however, support the broader idea that cooked roots dressed with oil and vinegar belonged comfortably within the early modern salad tradition.

A Humble Vegetable at a Noble Table

Carrots have a long and colorful history. The cultivated carrot likely originated in the region of Central Asia and Persia, especially around modern Iran and Afghanistan, before traveling west through trade, agriculture, and Mediterranean exchange. By the medieval and Renaissance periods, carrots were known in Europe, though they were not necessarily the bright orange supermarket carrots most familiar today.

Sixteenth-century Italian cooks may have encountered carrots in several colors, including white, yellow, purple, red, or reddish-orange forms. The standardized sweet orange carrot became more dominant later, especially through Dutch cultivation in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. For this recreation, I used modern orange carrots because they were readily available.

That practical substitution is worth noting, but not apologizing for. Modern orange carrots are sweeter and more uniform than many historical varieties, and roasting intensified that sweetness beautifully. In this dish, they became almost parsnip-like, which made them especially pleasing against the sharpness of vinegar and the saltiness of prosciutto.

Humoral Notes

In Renaissance dietary thinking, raw foods were often approached with caution, while cooked vegetables were generally considered easier to digest. Root vegetables such as carrots were associated with warmth and nourishment, especially when cooked. Serving them dressed with oil and vinegar in the first service made sense within the broader logic of the meal: they were gentle, appetizing, and helped prepare the stomach for richer foods to come.

The oil softened the dish, the vinegar sharpened it, and the small touch of honey rounded the dressing. This balance of sweet, sour, salty, and rich flavors is one of the reasons Renaissance food can feel surprisingly modern when handled with restraint.

Lucanicae – Ancient Roman Sausages Recipe

This dish was served as part of the Push for Pennsic 2004 – Early Roman Feast.

Originally published: June 29, 2025 at 3:44 PM | Updated: June 5, 2026

Updated 6/5/2026: This post has been expanded to current Give It Forth standards with additional historical context, Roman feast placement, Pennsic and camp cooking guidance, an appetizer-sized recipe for eight, dietary notes, FAQ, internal links to the full Roman feast menu, and structured recipe data.

What are Lucanicae? Lucanicae were seasoned sausages associated by Roman writers with Lucania in southern Italy. This version is inspired by Roman sausage traditions and the flavors of Apicius: minced meat, pepper, pine nuts, and liquamen or fish sauce, shaped small for feast service and grilled or gently cooked before finishing.

Lucanicae – Grilled Roman Sausages

Course: Gustum (Appetizer)
Origin: Ancient Rome
Served: Warm or Room Temperature
Event: Push for Pennsic 2004 – Early Roman Feast

Lucanicae are exactly the kind of dish that makes a Roman feast feel generous from the first course. Small, savory, highly seasoned sausages sit beautifully beside flatbread, olives, cucumbers, herbed cheese, cabbage, and chickpeas. They are rich enough to feel substantial, but when made small they remain appropriate for the gustum, the appetizer course meant to wake the appetite rather than exhaust it.

For modern feast cooks, they are also practical little flavor engines. The mixture can be prepared ahead, shaped small, chilled, transported, and cooked quickly on a grill or skillet. That makes Lucanicae especially useful for Pennsic-style service, primitive sites, and SCA dayboards where food needs to be flavorful, sturdy, and manageable without a full modern kitchen.

Historical Background

Lucanicae, the seasoned sausages of Roman origin, were named after the region of Lucania in southern Italy. Roman writers connect them with the Lucanians, and the name survived into later sausage traditions such as Italian luganega and Spanish longaniza.

Did You Know?
The Roman author Varro explains Lucanicae as sausages named from Lucania, describing the practice of stuffing minced meat into casings with seasonings. Whether read as food history, etymology, or both, the passage shows that Romans associated this style of sausage with a specific regional tradition.

For more on ancient Roman cookery, see the digitized Latin and English text of Apicius – De Re Coquinaria.

The surviving Roman cookery tradition does not give us a modern sausage recipe with neat measurements, temperatures, and timing. Instead, it gives us a flavor-world: pepper, liquamen, herbs, nuts, wine, vinegar, smoke, roasting, and meats prepared for household tables, taverns, military travel, and feasts. This redaction is therefore not a claim of exact reconstruction. It is a practical, feast-tested interpretation designed for SCA service, camp conditions, and modern food safety.

This is the useful place where historical cooking meets real-world feast work. A cook has to ask not only “what did the source say?” but also “how do I serve this safely, attractively, and generously to a table of modern diners?” For Lucanicae, the answer is to preserve the Roman flavor profile while making the shape and cooking method flexible.

Lucania, Soldiers, and Sausage-Making

The Roman explanation for lucanicae ties the sausage to Lucania, a region of southern Italy. Whether the Roman army truly learned the technique there or later writers preserved a convenient food etymology, the association matters. Sausages are portable, efficient, flavorful, and well suited to feeding groups. Minced meat mixed with salt, spice, and fat can stretch ingredients, cook quickly, and serve neatly in small portions.

That practicality explains why sausage belongs so comfortably on a Roman-inspired feast table. It is not merely meat in a casing. It is preserved knowledge: how to season meat strongly, how to divide it into portions, how to make it easy to cook, and how to carry rich flavor into a meal without requiring a large roast or elaborate carving.

For a feast cook, that ancient practicality still applies. A platter of small, bite-sized sausages looks abundant, serves cleanly, and works beautifully in an appetizer course. At Push for Pennsic, these are best treated as a gustum: a savory opening bite served with other small Roman-inspired dishes rather than as a large modern entree.

🏛️ Feast-cook note: A mound of small, meatball-sized sausages is pleasing to the eye and gives a generous impression while keeping portions appropriate for an appetizer course. About 1 tablespoon of meat mixture per sausage gives two or three bites, and 1 pound of meat makes roughly 30 small sausages.

Modern Interpretation

This simplified grilled version uses bulgur to approximate the grainy texture of some Roman-style forcemeats and mixes pork and beef for richness. Pine nuts add a distinctly Roman touch, and liquamen, or modern fish sauce, gives the meat its salty, savory backbone.

Historically, sausage could be stuffed into casings, but feast conditions are not always generous. This version may be shaped into small patties, rolled into bite-sized sausage logs, stuffed into casings, or gently poached in plastic wrap when casings are unavailable. The goal is not to make a modern deli sausage, but to create a flavorful Roman-inspired bite that can survive real event conditions.

The flavor should be peppery, savory, and slightly rich from the pine nuts. The fish sauce should not make the sausage taste fishy. It should deepen the meat, much as Roman liquamen does throughout Apicius-style cooking. If your fish sauce is very strong or salty, use a little less and add more only after cooking a test piece.

Why These Ingredients?

• Ground meat: Pork is especially appropriate for Roman cookery, though a pork and beef blend gives a rich, accessible modern texture.
• Bulgur: This is a modern practical choice that gives texture and helps the mixture hold together. It also echoes the use of grains and fillers in historic forcemeat traditions.
• Liquamen / fish sauce: Roman cookery used fermented fish sauces extensively. Modern fish sauce is the easiest substitute.
• Pine nuts: Pine nuts appear frequently in Roman recipes and add richness, texture, and a distinctly ancient Mediterranean character.
• Pepper: Black pepper was a prized imported spice and appears often in Apicius-style seasoning.

⚖️ Humoral note: Later medieval dietary theory often treated pork and beef as heavy meats that benefited from warming spices, salt, vinegar, mustard, or sharp sauces. While this recipe is Roman rather than medieval, the flavor logic still makes sense at table: pepper, fermented fish sauce, and accompaniments such as mustard, olives, herbs, or wine help cut the richness of the meat.

Pork Custard (Charlette) – Medieval Meat-and-Milk Dish from Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430)

“.lvj. Charlette” – Pork Custard, Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430)Photo: Give It Forth

Originally published 1/16/2017 Updated 10/31/2025

Among the most puzzling entries in Harleian MS. 279 is “.lvj. Charlette” — a firm, sliceable custard of milk, pork or veal, eggs, and ale. It sits at the edge of pudding, cheese, and meat pie: a now-rare style sometimes dubbed a “hard custard.”

The name is often glossed as “meat-milk” (with char “flesh/meat” and –lette “milk”), and similar “milk-meat” recipes turn up in The Forme of Cury and A Noble Boke off Cookry. Medieval diners would have found it robust and nourishing; to modern eyes it can look… challenging. But as a piece of culinary archaeology, it’s priceless.

🥕 Dietary notes: contains meat & dairy; not vegetarian. Gluten-free if using GF ale. Try a mushroom variant for testing.

Lost Techniques Spotlight: Curds-by-Ale & the “Hard Custard” Family

• Ale-curdling, not sweet-setting: Here, hot milk is curdled by adding beaten eggs and a little ale as the acid; the eggs help bind fine curds around minced meat.
• Kin to egg-cheese & posset: The method sits between fresh cheese (acid + heat) and early egg-thickened drinks (posset). Pressing the curds overnight makes a sliceable loaf.
• Savory custards fade: By the 16th–17th c., European tastes shift toward sweet, cream-based, gently baked custards. Savory “hard custards” like charlette mostly vanish.
• Service tip: Medieval directions say to press the loaf and reheat slices in hot broth. This keeps texture tender and adds flavor.

Feast planning: Make a day ahead so it presses and chills fully. Slice cold; reheat in beef or capon broth at service.

Brawn of Swyne / Brawn with Mustard — Harleian MS 279 vs. Forme of Cury vs. Good Huswife’s Jewel

Period-inspired brawn served cold with sharp mustard — a fifteenth-century English favorite.

Brawn of Swyne / Brawn with Mustard

Last updated: October 10, 2025

This post compares the medieval dish Brawn of Swyne across three sources: Harleian MS 279 (c.1430), Forme of Cury (c.1390), and the late-Tudor The Good Huswife’s Jewel (1585/1596). You’ll find original texts, plain-English renderings, a contrast table, an authenticity explainer for new cooks, and a concise Harleian-leaning modern redaction.

TL;DR: All three sources agree: brawn (boar/pork) is served cold with strong mustard. Harleian 279 uniquely adds a brief wine soak. Forme of Cury is earlier but near-identical. Dawson’s Good Huswife’s Jewel shows the same dish living on in the 16th century.

1) Harleian MS 279 (c.1430) — “Brawn of Swyne”

Middle English: Brawn of Swyne. Take Brawn of Swyne, and seþe hit; and whan hit is y-sothe, pare hit and lay hit in wyne, and serue hit forth with mustard.

Modern rendering: Boil the pork brawn; when cooked, slice/trim it and lay it in wine; serve with mustard.

• Distinctive feature: the quick wine soak before service.
• Service: cold, thin slices with sharp mustard.
• Text: Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery Books (EETS 1888), p. 25.

2) Forme of Cury (c.1390) — “Brawne of Swyne”

Middle English (abridged): Brawne of Swyne... sethe it and serve it forth with Mustard.

Modern rendering: Boil pork brawn and serve it with mustard (no wine soak specified).

• Text: Forme of Cury (ed. Pegge), p. 95.

3) The Good Huswife’s Jewel (1585/1596) — “Brawn with Mustard”

See my late-Tudor descendant here: Brawn with Mustard (Dawson).

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Compare & Contrast at a Glance

Source	Date	Core Method	Unique Step	Mustard Note
Harleian MS 279	c.1430	Boil → slice → lay in wine → serve cold	Wine soak before service	Rustic wet mustard (seed + wine/vinegar + salt)
Forme of Cury	c.1390	Boil → slice → serve cold	—	Same condiment; simple instruction
Good Huswife’s Jewel	1585/1596	Boil/cure → slice → serve cold	Printed domestic tips; seasonings trend sweeter	Mustard with wine/vinegar; later sugar appears in print culture

What “brawn” really means — and how it was prepared

In period, brawn was cured pork or boar—typically shoulder, neck, or head—put up in salt during autumn for winter feasts. When Harleian says “Take brawn of swyne, and seþe hit,” it assumes the meat is already salted. Boiling softens and reheats the preserved meat for slicing; the wine soak perfumes it; mustard completes the service.

Household records mention both “brawn of boor salte and fresshe” in service. See the Household Ordinances of Edward IV and the Harleian text itself: Harleian MS 279, “Brawn of Swyne”; compare Forme of Cury, “Brawne of Swyne”. A late Tudor descendant appears in The Good Huswife’s Jewel (1585).

1) The basic medieval cure

Plain coarse salt (sometimes a little saltpetre) for a week or more, then gentle boiling and a brief wine soak before service.

2) Aromatic “luxury” cures

Noble kitchens sometimes added peppercorns, cloves, mace, sage, or bay, mirroring salted fish/venison methods: “To Salt Fresh Salmon” and “To Salt Venison” (Harleian MS 279).

3) Preparing brawn today

• If using cured meat: start with unsmoked salt pork, salt-cured ham, or brined shoulder; soak overnight to reduce salt before simmering gently.
• If using fresh pork: a simple brine for 3–5 days under refrigeration (per quart water: 1/4 cup coarse salt, a few peppercorns, 2–3 cloves, 1–2 bay leaves, splash of white wine or vinegar). Rinse, then simmer gently.
• To serve: slice thin, lay briefly in wine (Harleian), and serve cold with sharp mustard.

🕯️ “Lord’s Salt” (optional, elite cure): Some noble households kept a perfumed preserving mix called Lord’s Salt (sal domini): fine salt blended with a little saltpetre and warming spices (pepper, cloves, mace), sometimes with sage or bay. It yields rosy, aromatic brawn for display tables. Ordinary kitchens used plain salt. References: EETS intro (sal domini), Household Ordinances, Liber Cure Cocorum, Boke of Kervynge (1508).

Modern Redaction (Harleian-leaning)

Serves 10–12 as slices with mustard.

• 3–4 lb boneless pork shoulder (or unsmoked salt pork / salt-cured ham; see notes)
• Dry white wine (about 1 bottle; divided: 1 cup for simmering, remainder for brief soak)
• A few whole peppercorns or a pinch of powdour fort; a little salt to taste
• Mustard (period-style): 3 Tbsp mustard seed (coarsely ground), 2–3 Tbsp wine or wine vinegar, pinch of salt

1. If using fresh pork: brine 3–5 days (see explainer). Rinse before cooking.
2. Simmer: Cover meat with water and add 1 cup wine, pepper, and a little salt. Simmer gently until very tender (about 2–3 hours for shoulder; less for cured ham).
3. Chill: Cool and chill under light weight for neat slicing.
4. Slice & soak: Slice thin; lay in a shallow dish with enough wine to scent (10–20 minutes). Drain well.
5. Mustard: Grind mustard seed; wet with wine or vinegar and salt to a thick paste. (For a 16th-c. profile, whisk in a little sugar.)
6. Serve cold with mustard alongside.

🥕 Dietary notes: Naturally gluten-free if mustard ingredients are GF. Contains pork. Substitutions: cured ham or salted beef (period-plausible).

Humoral & Menu Placement

In meat-day first courses (like Russell’s), brawn is a hot & dry food offset by moist wine and mustard. It signals winter plenty and often appears at Christmas or Twelfth Night.

Sources & Editions

• Harleian MS 279 (c.1430), in Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery Books (EETS, 1888).
• The Forme of Cury (c.1390), ed. Pegge.
• Thomas Dawson, The Good Huswife’s Jewel (1585/1596), Internet Archive.

Labels: Appetizer, Medieval Finger Food, Pork, Feast Planning, Period Techniques, Medieval, Harleian MS 279, Forme of Cury

Chawatteys – Medieval Pork & Veal Pie with Fruit and Spice (Harleian MS. 279, c. 1430)

Chawatteys (Harleian MS. 279, c. 1430)

Originally published: 2017 — Updated: 2025

Chawatteys is a late medieval pie blending pork or veal with dried fruit, saffron, eggs, and warm spices. The mix of sweet and savory, baked in a pastry shell, reflects the luxury tastes of fifteenth-century England. It comes to us from Harleian MS. 279, one of the great English cookbooks of the early 1400s.

Did You Know?

The name Chawatteys (also spelled Chawettys or Chywettes) comes from the Middle English word chewet, meaning a small pie. The word is thought to derive from Old French chouette (“owl”), since early chewets were sometimes shaped to resemble little birds. Over time, chewet came to mean any small meat pie, often filled with minced pork, dried fruit, and spices.

Modern notes: Can’t find verjus? Substitute with a splash of wine vinegar. Veal may be replaced with pork, or even chicken. If you want a vegetarian option, mushrooms or eggplant can stand in for the meat (though this moves away from the medieval version). Zante currants and saffron are both available online if your local shop doesn’t stock them.

The Original Recipe

Chawatteys (Harlieian MS 279, c. 1430) Take buttys of Vele, and mynce hem smal, or Porke, and put on a potte; take Wyne, and caste þer-to pouder of Gyngere, Pepir, and Safroun, and Salt, and a lytel verjus, and do hem in a cofyn with yolks of Eyroun, and kutte Datys and Roysonys of Coraunce, Clowys, Maces, and þen ceuere þin cofyn, and lat it bake tyl it be y-now.

Fylettys en Galentyne - Pork in Spiced Onion Sauce (Stew & Sauce Interpretations, Harleian MS. 279, c.1430)

Fylettys en Galentyne – Pork in Spiced Onion Sauce (Harleian MS. 279, c.1430)

Kitchen test photo from the original 2016 post, showing the stew interpretation of Fyletes in Galentyne.

Fyletes in Galentyne appears in Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430) and exemplifies a common medieval pairing: roasted or half-roasted meat finished in a rich, spiced sauce. The “galentyne” is thickened with bread and given depth either by blood (for savory richness) or by sanders (red sandalwood) to tint and flavor. Both are legitimate medieval options, so we present them side by side.

Note on interpretation: When this recipe was first published here on February 11, 2016, I presented it as a stew — simmered pork and onions in a spiced broth. On closer reading, however, the text more clearly aligns with the medieval understanding of galentyne as a sauce for meat: roast pork finished with a thickened, spiced, colored sauce. 

Both versions are plausible, so I’ve left my original interpretation here (Version A) and added the sauce-based version (Version B). The original post has been updated and republished on September 10, 2025 to reflect this correction.

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Original Recipe (Harleian MS. 279, c.1430)

Englishe:
“Take fayre porke of the fore quarter, and rost hit tyl hit be almost ynogh; then take and smyte hit in fayre pecys, and caste hit in a fayre potte; then take oynons and shredde hem small, and frie hem in fayre grece, and caste hem to the porke, and stew hit togydre; then take gode broth of beef or motton, and caste thereto; then take powder of peper and of gynger, and caste thereto; and take bred ystepid in vinegre, and strayne hit thorow a straynoure, and caste thereto; and colour hit with blode, or elles with sandres, and then lat hit boyle up wel, and serve it forth.”

Modern Translation:
Take good pork from the forequarter and roast it until nearly done; cut into pieces and place in a pot. Chop onions, fry them in fat, and add to the pork. Stew together with good beef or mutton broth. Add pepper and ginger. Take bread soaked in vinegar, strain it, and add. Color with blood—or else with red sandalwood—and let it boil well. Serve forth.

Fava fresche con brodo di carne – Fresh Fava Beans with Meat Broth

Fava fresche con brodo di carne – Fresh Fava Beans with Meat Broth (Redon, 1998)

“The Feast in the House of Levi” (detail), Paolo Veronese — used here as period context for a Renaissance table.

Context & Notes

Fava fresche con brodo di carne is a rustic Renaissance preparation: fresh spring fava beans briefly simmered in meat broth, enriched with a little cured pork, and finished with parsley and mint. The technique keeps the beans tender while letting a few split to lightly thicken the broth.

Seasonality & status: Fava beans were among the first fresh foods after Lent and signaled the turn from winter storage fare to spring produce. Courtly kitchens “elevated” this staple through refined broth, measured cooking, and aromatic herbs—much as spices elevate simple noodles in De lasanis.

Broth choice: Chicken broth reads lighter and more restorative for warmer weather; beef broth is heartier and “strengthening.” Either appears in period practice depending on the season and desired effect.

Humoral Notes (with pork nuance)

Fava beans: generally cold & moist.
Pork: fresh pork was classed as cold & moist and heavy; salted/cured pork (pancetta, salt belly) was thought to gain warming/drying qualities from salt and smoke—still rich, but more balancing when used sparingly.
Herbs: parsley and mint are warming/aromatic correctives.
Broth: chicken leans lighter; beef leans more warming/fortifying.

Thus this dish pairs a cold/moist base (beans) with modest warming elements (cured pork, hot broth, herbs) to arrive at a comfortable middle course—similar to how spices balanced the cheese-and-pasta profile in De lasanis.

Side-by-Side: Original (Redon, 1998) & Modern Notes

Original (Redon, 1998)

Ingredients: 2 cups beef or chicken broth (or mix), 4½ lb fresh fava beans, 4 oz salt pork belly or pancetta, 1 Tbsp chopped parsley & mint; salt.

Method: Shell beans; blanch briefly (5 seconds), refresh, peel. Dice pork. Simmer broth, beans, and pork ~10 minutes until beans begin to break. Add herbs; return to a brief boil. Salt to taste and serve.

Modern Adaptation – What’s Different?

• Yield clarity: 4½ lb in-pod ≈ ~1 lb shelled beans.
• Texture cue: “Begin to break” = lightly thickened broth, not mashed.
• Herb timing: Herbs added at the end to keep flavors vivid.
• Pork form matters: Pancetta/salt pork (cured) used in small amount for savor and humoral balance.
• Broth intent: Chicken for lighter tables; beef for heartier service.

Scappi’s Minestra di Piselli & Fave fresche (1570, Libro III, #249)

Per far minestra di Piselli & Fave fresche:

Piglinosi i piselli o baccelli, sgraninosi, & ponganosi in un uaso con oglio d’oliue, sale, & pepe, & faccianosi soffriggere pian piano, aggiungendovi tanta acqua tinta di zafferano, che stiano coperti di due dita, & come saranno poco men che cotti, pestisene una parte nel mortaro, e stemperisi con il medesimo brodo, & mettasi nel uaso con una branchata d’herbuccie battute, e faccianosi levare il bollo, e servanosi caldi.

 Translation (modern English):

“Take peas or broad beans, shell them, and put them in a pot with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Let them sauté gently, adding in enough water, colored with saffron, to cover them by about two fingers. When they are a little less than cooked, pound part of them in a mortar and dilute that with the same broth; return it to the pot with a handful of chopped herbs, bring it all to a boil, and serve it hot.”

🍲 Modern Recipe

Serves: 4 • Active: 20 min • Total: ~30 min

Ingredients

• 2 cups (480 ml) beef or chicken broth (or 50/50 mix)
• 4½ lb (about 2 kg) fresh fava beans in pod (≈ 1 lb / 450 g shelled)
• 4 oz (115 g) salt pork belly or pancetta, finely diced
• 1 Tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
• 1 Tbsp fresh mint, chopped
• Kosher salt, to taste

Method

1. Prep beans: Shell. Blanch 5 seconds in boiling water, refresh in cold water, slip off the outer skins.
2. Simmer: In a saucepan, combine broth, diced pork, and beans. Bring to a boil, reduce to a lively simmer, and cook about 10 minutes, until beans just begin to soften and a few split to lightly thicken the broth.
3. Finish: Stir in parsley and mint; return to a brief boil (30–60 seconds). Season with salt and serve hot.

🔍 Scappi’s Renaissance Version (1570)

In Opera (Libro III, #249), Scappi prepares fresh peas or broad beans by gently sautéing them in olive oil with salt and pepper, adding saffron-tinted water to cover, then pounding a portion to thicken before finishing with chopped herbs and a brief boil.

“Take peas or broad beans, shell them, and put them in a pot with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Sauté gently, add enough saffron-colored water to cover by two fingers. When just underdone, pound part of them with the same broth, return to the pot with a handful of chopped herbs, bring to a boil, and serve hot.”

Why it matters: Scappi’s technique—partial purée, saffron infusion, hot herb finish—shows the same courtly refinement and humoral balance as our version: a cold/moist base (beans) corrected by warming elements (olive oil/saffron or, in Redon’s adaptation, cured pork and broth).

🌱 Fava Beans in Renaissance Feasts: Beyond the Soup Pot

1. Seasonal & Symbolic Role

• Springtime signal: Fresh favas (fave novelle) were among the first green vegetables of the year after the long winter and Lenten fasting. Their arrival marked renewal, fertility, and abundance — an edible herald of spring.
• Festal symbolism: In Italy, beans had associations with fertility and rebirth. They were often planted around feast days (especially St. Joseph’s Day in March), and dishes of beans could appear at communal meals tied to seasonal celebrations.

2. Culinary Uses in Feasts

• Pottages & broths: Most common at court — boiled with herbs, broth, pork, or oil (as in Redon/Scappi’s versions). They provided a filling, comforting “wet dish” for the second course.
• Purees: Scappi frequently thickened broths or created side dishes by pounding a portion of the beans. This gave variety in texture and aligned with elite tastes for smooth, refined preparations.
• Side accompaniments: Favas could be served with meat, often pork or mutton, as a cheap protein extender and humoral counterbalance.
• Lenten adaptations: Without meat, they might be prepared with oil, saffron, and herbs — still satisfying but acceptable during fast days.

3. Humoral & Medical Considerations

• Humoral qualities: Cold & moist. Physicians warned they were heavy to digest and could cause flatulence if eaten in excess.
• Correctives: Cooking with salt, pork, oil, or warming herbs like mint and parsley was thought to “lighten” them, making them safer for the stomach.
• Dietary prescriptions: Favas were often recommended for the working poor for strength but taken in moderation by elites. In courtly kitchens, refinement (skinning, pounding, spicing) made them suitable for noble digestion.

4. Cultural & Social Dimensions

• Peasant vs. elite divide: Beans were a staple of peasant diets, but when transformed with broth, pork, saffron, or fine herbs, they crossed into noble cuisine. This dual identity made them ideal for “bridging” courses in feasts.
• Religious associations: Favas had an odd role in funerary traditions in some parts of Europe (linked with the dead and All Souls’ Day). In Italy, fava-based sweets (fave dei morti) are still tied to this tradition — showing the bean’s symbolic reach beyond daily food.
• Feast planning logic: For a steward, fava dishes were economical, seasonal, and versatile. They stretched meat supplies, added color and variety to courses, and showed seasonal awareness — all important in demonstrating a host’s refinement.

🍽 Menu Placement (Feast Planning)

• Dish Type: Pottage (a “wet” course served in or with broth)
• Course: Second course (Pottage course). Because beans digest heavy in some frameworks, serve moderate portions or as a remove between roasts.
• Service tips: Offer trenchers or bread to soak up the savory broth.

🥕 Dietary Suggestions

• Gluten-free.
• Pork-free: Swap in smoked turkey or omit meat and add 1–2 Tbsp olive oil for body.
• Vegetarian: Use vegetable broth; finish with a knob of butter or extra-virgin olive oil.

📚 Sources

• Redon, 1998 (adaptation as provided).
• Period dietetic summaries consulted for general fresh vs. cured meat distinctions and bean qualities.

🏷 Labels

• Browse by Dish Type: Pottage
• Browse by Ingredient: Legumes, Pork, Herbs
• Browse by Use: Feast Planning, Period Techniques, Humoral Theory
• Browse by Era: Renaissance, Italian

📖 This recipe is part of the Ceilidh 2001 – Fourteenth-Century Italian Feast .
Explore all dishes from this reconstructed 14th-century Italian banquet.

Cormarye – Spiced Wine Pork Roast (Forme of Cury)

Cormarye – Spiced Wine Pork Roast (Forme of Cury)

“The Feast in the House of Levi” (detail), Paolo Veronese. Used here as period context for spice-laden pork roasts such as cormarye.

Source: The Forme of Cury, c. 1390 (ed. Hieatt & Butler). Adapted in Redon et al., The Medieval Kitchen (1998).

Original Recipe

Take Colyaundre, Caraway, garlec ygrounde, powdour fort, and salt, medle all this togyder and lay it on a fylett of pork al holes, and lay it to roste; when it is rosted enough, take vinegre and wyne and the juyce of the pork, medle hem togyder, and serve forth.

Translation

Take coriander, caraway, ground garlic, strong spice powder, and salt. Mix all this together and spread it over a fillet of pork, pricking it well. Roast it. When it is cooked enough, take vinegar, wine, and the juices of the pork, mix them together, and serve it forth.

Torta d’Aglio (Garlic Torte) – Renaissance Savory Pie with Cheese, Garlic & Spices

Torta d’Aglio (Garlic Torte)

Italian Renaissance • Savory Pie • Feast-Friendly

“The Feast in the House of Levi” (detail), Paolo Veronese. Used here as period context for a Renaissance savory pie.

This savory pie highlights gentled garlic — blanched to soften its sharpness, then blended with fresh cheese, butter, and warming spices. Adapted from Martino’s 15th-century Libro de arte coquinaria, the dish balances flavors in line with Renaissance cooking theory and humoral practice.

🥕 Dietary Notes: Vegetarian & gluten-free adaptations included.

Piatti di Salumi: Renaissance Antipasti & Mostarda (period and non-period recipe included)

“The Royal Feast” by Alonso Sánchez Coello (1531–1588), oil on canvas, public domain. A sumptuous Renaissance banquet scene that captures the richness and communal spirit of salumi, fruit, and condiments on the table.

Piatti di salumi, formaggi, olive, frutta fresca e secca e senape

Plates of cured meats, cheeses, olives, fresh and dried fruit, and mustard — listed on our 12th Night 2024 menu and served during the Primo seruitio posto in Tavola (first service on the table, antipasti). Charcuterie is a modern framing; the Italian period lens is salumi with fruit, bread, olives, and a sweet-hot mostarda. Prepared and plated by Dan Parker, the board leaned rustic and abundant—grapes spilling over, glossy olives, rosemary releasing aroma as diners reached in.

Period Context: Salumi & Mostarda

While “charcuterie” is a French term, the Italian table has long featured salumi—prosciutto, pancetta, lardo, coppa, and regional salami—paired with breads, olives, grapes, and preserved fruits. Renaissance sources also describe mostarda (sweet fruit with mustard heat). Bartolomeo Scappi (1570) includes a Mostarda amabile that blends cooked quince and apple with sugar, candied citrus, and mustard essence.

Scappi, Opera (1570), Libro II, cap. 276 — “Per far Mostarda amabile”
Quince and apples cooked with wine & sugar, worked with candied citrus and spiced with mustard—pounded to a smooth, sweet-hot sauce.

For this feast I used a modern, chutney-style mostarda for ease and flavor balance (link below), which sits comfortably in the same family even if the texture and acidity are more contemporary.

Mostarda: Period vs. Modern (quick comparison)

How Scappi’s mostarda differs from the modern chutney used at feast

Aspect	Period (Scappi, 1570)	Modern Chutney Used	Practical Notes
Fruits	Quince & apples; candied citrus peels	Apples & pears; dried cherries/cranberries	Both seasonal & flexible; quince gives classic perfume
Sweet/acid	Sugar + wine + grape must	Sugar + white wine + cider vinegar	Modern reads more “chutney” from vinegar
Heat	Mustard essence/seed	Mustard seed + ground mustard + cayenne	Adjust heat post-cook to taste
Texture	Smooth, pounded sauce	Chunky, spoonable conserve	Either pairs well with salumi & cheese
Make-ahead?	Yes — improves with rest	Yes — 3–4 weeks refrigerated	Ideal for feast workflow

Pork Pie with Mustard – William Rabisha (1682)

Pork Pie with Mustard – William Rabisha (1682)

This hearty, spice-layered pork pie was served at the Collegium Lunch Fundraiser Tavern in 2016 as the primary meat offering. Designed for easy transport, room-temperature service, and strong period flavor, this pie drew inspiration from The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected by William Rabisha (1682). Though technically outside the pre-1600 SCA period, Rabisha’s work reflects culinary techniques and seasonings in use during the Elizabethan and early Stuart period—and is commonly used by feast cooks for "late period" interpretations.

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Original Recipe (Historical Source)

“Take a Loin of Pork and bone it, and cut thereof into thin collops beaten with the clever... season your Pork with pepper, salt, and minces sage... season your Veal with cloves, mace, nutmeg and minced Thyme... then a laying of pork... and then a laying of your veal... so continue... beat it well into a body, put it in your coffin... bake it: when it is cold, fill it with clarified butter.”
— William Rabisha, The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected (1682)

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Modern Interpretation

Yields one 9-inch double crust pie

Ingredients:

• 1 lb pork loin, boned and trimmed of fat

• 2 egg yolks

• 1/8 tsp pepper

• 1/2 tsp salt (divided)

• 1/4 tsp sage

• 1/4 tsp thyme

• 1/8 tsp mace

• 1/4 tsp nutmeg

• 1/8 tsp ground cloves

• 3 tbsp butter, diced

• 2 pie shells (top and bottom crusts)

Instructions:

1. Slice the pork as thinly as possible.

2. Mix half the pork with pepper, sage, thyme, 1 egg yolk, and 1/4 tsp salt.

3. Mix the remaining pork with mace, nutmeg, cloves, 1 egg yolk, and 1/4 tsp salt.

4. Layer seasoned pork into the pie shell, alternating between the two mixtures.

5. Dot each layer with butter.

6. Seal the pie with the top crust, crimp edges, and vent.

7. Bake at 450°F for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 350°F and bake an additional 25 minutes.

8. Serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled. Do not refrigerate if you’re aiming for period presentation.

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Serving & Sauce Notes

This pork pie was served with mustard—a classic pairing in both period and modern service. Choose stone-ground, whole grain, or period-inspired must sauces. A sweet-and-sharp balance pairs beautifully with the warm spices in the pie.

For historical flair, explore “To Make Mustard Divers Ways”, which includes several period options, including preparations with vinegar, ale, and spices. These make excellent accompaniments to late-period pies or tavern fare. This pork pie was served with mustard—a classic pairing in both period and modern service. Choose stone-ground, whole grain, or period-inspired must sauces. A sweet-and-sharp balance pairs beautifully with the warm spices in the pie.

Vegetarian Alternative – Fridayes Pye (c. 1615)
If you’re feeding a mixed crowd or observing a meatless Friday, consider pairing the pork pie with a vegetable-based option. A Fridayes Pye, also attributed to early 17th-century English sources, uses greens or beets, apples, currants, and ginger for a sweet-savory blend that bakes beautifully in a single crust. It offers a flexible meat-free addition for dayboards or taverns.

Need a Meat-Free Pastry?
For vegetarian pies like A Fridayes Pye, try a butter-based or vegan crust suitable for Lent or no-flesh days. See below for options.

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Bonus Recipe: Vegetarian & Vegan Pie Crust Options

Ovo-Lacto Vegetarian Crust:

• 2 ½ cups flour

• ½ tsp salt

• ½ cup cold butter, diced

• ¼–½ cup cold water

• Optional: 1 tsp vinegar or orange flower water

Cut butter into flour and salt, add water gradually, and chill before rolling. Suitable for both savory and sweet pies.

Vegan-Friendly Crust (Modern Adaptation):

• 2 ½ cups flour

• ½ tsp salt

• ½ cup refined coconut oil or vegan butter substitute (cold)

• ¼–½ cup ice water

Mix as above. This crust mimics period fasting-day pastes while meeting modern dietary needs.

Historical Note: While vegan diets weren’t defined in period, oil-based crusts were used during Lent and no-flesh days. These adaptations maintain historical intent with modern clarity.

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Historical and SCA Notes

While Rabisha’s work dates to 1682—technically post-period for SCA documentation—it captures pre-Civil War culinary practices, including layering meats, seasoning with spice blends, and enclosing pies in coffins for preservation. Many cooks use Rabisha’s recipes when looking for transitional or late-period English fare that bridges into the 17th century.

Looking for a fully period alternative?

Pork pies of similar construction appear earlier, notably in A Book of Cookrye (1591), which includes a Gammon of Bacon recipe using layered pork or bacon, spices, and pastry coffins. This version is solidly within SCA period and makes an excellent substitute if documentation is a concern.