Medieval Creamed Greens with Almond Milk | Whyte Wortes (Harleian MS 279, c.1430)

Originally published December 22, 2015. Updated June 12, 2026 with revised interpretation notes, manuscript-first cooking guidance, recipe schema, modern substitutions, and additional historical context.

AI-assisted formatting and editing note: This article was updated with the assistance of ChatGPT for organization, grammar, HTML formatting, and checklist review. Historical interpretation, recipe judgment, cooking experience, and final editorial decisions are my own.

Medieval Creamed Greens with Almond Milk | Whyte Wortes

Whyte Wortes, from Harleian MS 279, is one of those medieval recipes that looks plain until it reaches the spoon.

At first glance, it sounds humble: greens boiled in water, pressed dry, chopped small, then cooked with almond milk, rice flour, saffron, honey, and salt. But the result is far more interesting than the ingredient list suggests. It is soft, rich, lightly sweet, gently aromatic, and much more elegant than “boiled greens” has any right to be.

When I first made this dish in 2015, I served it to my teenage non-SCA taste testers. Several were suspicious because they disliked cabbage and kale. After some coaxing, the verdict changed quickly:

“This is GOOD.”

One tester even wished their mother cooked cabbage this way.

That reaction still matters to me. Historical recipes can be fascinating on paper, but the real test is whether people want to eat them again. Whyte Wortes passed that test.

Whyte Wortes, a 15th-century greens pottage enriched with almond milk, rice flour, saffron, honey, and salt.

A Note from My 2015 Kitchen: My original version used cabbage and kale rather than a wider mixture of pot herbs. That was a practical choice based on what I had available, and it still works well. Reading the recipe now, I would describe this as a greens pottage or creamed greens dish rather than simply a vegetable side.

Like many Harleian recipes, it sits comfortably between modern categories.

The Original Recipe

The recipe appears in Thomas Austin’s edition of Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books, from Harleian MS 279, dated to about 1430.

.v. Whyte wortes.—Take of þe erbys lyke as þou dede for jouutes, and sethe hem in water tyl þey ben neyshe; þanne take hem vp, an bryse hem fayre on a bord, as drye as þow may; þan choppe hem smale, an caste hem on a potte, an ley hem with flowre of Rys; take mylke of almaundys, an cast þer-to, & hony, nowt to moche, þat it be nowt to swete, an safron & salt; an serue it forth ynne, ryȝth for a good potage.

A Working Translation

Take the herbs as you did for Joutes, and boil them in water until they are soft. Then take them up and bruise them well on a board, as dry as you can. Then chop them small and put them in a pot. Add rice flour. Take almond milk and add it, with honey, but not too much, so that it is not too sweet. Add saffron and salt, and serve it forth as a good pottage.

Manuscript Interpretation Note: This recipe is not simply greens boiled in almond milk. The greens are boiled first, pressed as dry as possible, chopped small, and then cooked again with rice flour, almond milk, honey, saffron, and salt. That first boiling removes harshness and excess moisture before the greens are enriched into a smooth pottage.

From Joutes to Whyte Wortes

One of the most useful clues in this recipe is that it does not begin by listing every green or herb. Instead, it points the cook backward:

“Take of þe erbys lyke as þou dede for jouutes…”

In other words:

Use the herbs and greens you prepared for Joutes.

This tells us something important about medieval kitchen practice. Cooks were not always beginning from scratch. They were working from familiar systems, repeated preparations, and shared kitchen knowledge. If Joutes represents a greens preparation built from available pot herbs, then Whyte Wortes feels like its richer, softer cousin: the same family of greens enriched with almond milk, thickened with rice flour, gently sweetened with honey, and perfumed with saffron.

That relationship also explains why the manuscript does not pause to give us an exact botanical list. The cook was expected to understand the broader greens preparation from the earlier recipe.

Pot Herbs, Wortes, and Medieval Kitchen Ingenuity

One of the things I increasingly admire about medieval cooking is its flexibility.

Whyte Wortes does not demand one perfect modern vegetable. Instead, it belongs to a world of pot herbs: leafy plants grown, gathered, or foraged for cooking. Depending on season, region, household garden, market access, and local taste, the mixture could change.

Modern cooks often want a recipe to say:

Use exactly this.

Medieval recipes often say something closer to:

Use what grows, what tastes good, and what you have enough of.

The Fromond List, published around 1525 under the title Herbys necessary for a gardyn, gives us a glimpse of the kinds of plants late medieval and early Tudor cooks valued for pottages and kitchen use. It includes familiar plants such as cabbage, beet, borage, chervil, chives, dill, fennel, leek, lettuce, marjoram, mint, onions, parsley, sage, spinach, thyme, and wood sorrel, along with plants less familiar in many modern kitchens, such as alexanders, Good King Henry, patience dock, hartstongue, orach, and sowthistle.

In other words, there was probably no single correct bowl of wortes.

In my original kitchen interpretation, I used cabbage and kale because they were available and held up beautifully to boiling, pressing, chopping, and reheating. Eleven years later, I still think that was a practical choice. But the spirit of the recipe comfortably allows the cook to work with a mixture of sturdy greens and herbs available in season.

Build Your Wortes: Choose one or two sturdy base greens such as cabbage, kale, collards, mustard greens, or turnip greens. Then add smaller amounts of flavorful greens or herbs such as parsley, sorrel, spinach, chard, beet greens, fennel fronds, or dill. The goal is not to recreate one fixed grocery list, but to build a useful medieval-style greens mixture.

What Makes These Wortes “White”?

The “white” in Whyte Wortes does not mean the greens themselves are white. The color comes from the almond milk and rice flour used to enrich and thicken the dish.

Medieval cooks often cared about color. White dishes could suggest refinement, smoothness, and careful preparation. Almond milk, rice, and pale sauces appear in many recipes where the finished dish is meant to feel gentle, rich, or elegant.

The saffron complicates the color slightly. It adds golden warmth rather than leaving the dish purely white, but medieval recipe titles often point toward the intended character of a dish rather than a perfect modern paint-chip description. Here, “white” likely signals the almond milk and rice-flour base more than a literal snow-white finished color.

Why Almond Milk Mattered

To a modern cook, almond milk in a medieval greens dish can feel unexpected. Yet almond milk appears constantly in medieval cookery, especially in pottages, sauces, and fasting dishes.

Part of the reason was practical. Fresh animal milk spoiled quickly without refrigeration and could vary in quality depending on season, storage, and household conditions. Almonds, by contrast, could be stored dry and transformed into milk when needed. That made almond milk flexible, reliable, and useful in both everyday kitchens and elite households.

Almond milk was also valuable during fasting periods, when dairy products might be restricted. But it was not merely a substitute for “real” milk. Medieval cooks appreciated almond milk for its own flavor, texture, and ability to enrich dishes gently without overwhelming other ingredients.

In Whyte Wortes, almond milk softens the sharper edges of boiled greens, while rice flour creates body and honey rounds the flavors just enough to keep the dish from becoming harsh.

If you would like to learn more about how almond milk functioned in historical kitchens, including fasting traditions and medieval culinary practice, see my article on the importance of almond milk in medieval cooking.

Modern Almond Milk Note: Homemade almond milk is usually richer and more historically useful than many boxed almond milks. If using store-bought almond milk, choose plain, unsweetened almond milk without vanilla. Avoid strongly flavored or sweetened versions.

Rice Flour, Honey, and Texture

Rice flour thickens the almond milk into a soft sauce. That matters because almond milk alone is fairly thin. The rice flour gives the pottage body, helping it cling to the chopped greens rather than pooling loosely beneath them.

The honey is equally important because the manuscript gives a warning:

“nowt to moche, þat it be nowt to swete”

Not too much, so that it is not too sweet.

That instruction tells us how the dish should behave. This is not a dessert. It is a savory greens pottage with just enough sweetness to soften the almond milk and greens. Too much honey would push it out of balance.

The final texture should be spoonable and rich. It can be loose enough to serve as a pottage, or thicker and more like creamed greens. If serving as part of a feast course, I prefer it thick enough to hold together on the plate without becoming stiff.

Texture Note: Medieval pottages were not always thin soups. This dish can be served as a soft pottage, a thickened greens dish, or a first-course accompaniment. The rice flour controls where it lands.

Why Boil the Greens First?

This step is easy to overlook, but it matters.

The manuscript tells the cook to boil the greens in water until soft, then bruise and dry them as much as possible before chopping. This removes some bitterness, softens tough leaves, and prevents the finished almond milk pottage from becoming watery.

That step also makes the final dish easier to control. Instead of trying to cook raw greens directly in almond milk, the cook begins with prepared greens and then enriches them. It is a practical medieval kitchen technique, and it still works.

Whyte Wortes: Medieval Creamed Greens with Almond Milk

Serves: 8 as a first-course pottage or side dish

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 pounds (680 g) sturdy greens such as kale, cabbage, collards, mustard greens, turnip greens, or mixed wortes
• 2 to 3 cups (480 to 720 ml) plain unsweetened almond milk, preferably homemade or rich almond milk
• 1 to 2 tablespoons rice flour, or up to 3 tablespoons for a thicker feast-service version
• 1 to 2 teaspoons honey, or to taste
• Pinch of saffron
• Salt, to taste

Method

1. Wash the greens well. Remove tough stems if needed.
2. Bring a large pot of clean water to a boil. Add the greens and boil until they are soft, about 8 to 12 minutes depending on the greens used.
3. Lift the greens from the water and drain well. Press them in a clean towel to remove as much water as possible.
4. Bruise or press the drained greens on a board, then chop them small.
5. Place the chopped greens in a clean pot and sprinkle with the rice flour. Stir to coat the greens evenly.
6. Add the almond milk gradually, stirring well to prevent lumps. Start with 2 cups (480 ml) for a thicker dish and add more as needed for a softer pottage.
7. Add the saffron, a small amount of honey, and salt.
8. Cook gently over medium-low heat, stirring often, until the almond milk thickens and the greens are coated in a soft sauce.
9. Taste and adjust salt and honey. The dish should be gently sweet, not dessert-sweet.
10. Serve warm as a pottage or thickened greens dish.

Modern Kitchen Notes

For a manuscript-first texture: Use 1 to 2 tablespoons rice flour and enough almond milk to create a soft, spoonable pottage.

For a thicker feast-service dish: Use up to 3 tablespoons rice flour and cook gently until the almond milk thickens enough to coat the greens.

For a looser pottage: Use less rice flour or add more almond milk.

For a vegan version: Replace the honey with sugar or leave it out. The almond milk base is already dairy-free.

For a nut-free version: This recipe depends on almond milk, so a nut-free version is a modern adaptation rather than a manuscript-first reconstruction. Oat milk or rice milk can work as substitutes, though the flavor will change.

For feast service: The greens can be boiled, pressed, chopped, and refrigerated earlier in the day. Finish the dish with almond milk and rice flour shortly before service.

Why This Is a Good Feast Dish

One of the reasons I like Whyte Wortes for feast service is that it solves several practical problems at once. It is meatless, dairy-free, inexpensive, and surprisingly satisfying. The greens can be cooked and pressed ahead of time, while the almond milk and rice flour finish quickly before service.

It also offers a useful contrast on the table. Beside fish, bread, eggs, or sharper sauces, this dish brings softness and richness without relying on butter, cream, or cheese. That makes it especially useful for first courses, fasting menus, or mixed tables where some diners need meatless options.

How I Would Serve It

Whyte Wortes belongs beautifully in a first course. It is rich enough to feel satisfying, but not so heavy that it overwhelms the table. I would serve it with bread, fish, eggs, or other greens dishes from Harleian MS 279.

It would also work well beside tench prepared one of three ways, fresh bread, simple egg dishes, or a mild cheese.

Feast Planning Note: This is an excellent meatless dish for a feast. It is economical, scalable, and more appealing than many modern diners expect from cabbage or kale. The almond milk makes it feel rich without using dairy cream.

Humoral and Historical Flavor Notes

In medieval dietary thought, greens were often treated as cooling and moistening. Almonds were nourishing and rich, while rice flour helped bind and steady the dish. Saffron added warmth and fragrance. Honey softened bitterness but was used carefully so that the dish would not become too sweet.

Read this way, Whyte Wortes balances green, soft, moist ingredients with aromatic warmth and gentle sweetness. It is not simply cabbage in almond milk. It is a carefully managed pottage where texture, richness, and balance matter.

The first boiling of the greens helps tame bitterness and excess moisture. The almond milk then rebuilds the dish into something richer and more polished. That two-step movement, first plain water, then almond milk, is part of what makes the recipe work.

Frequently Asked Questions

What are Whyte Wortes?

Whyte Wortes are a 15th-century medieval greens pottage from Harleian MS 279. Greens are boiled, pressed dry, chopped, and cooked with almond milk, rice flour, honey, saffron, and salt.

Why are they called white wortes?

The “white” likely refers to the almond milk and rice flour base rather than the greens themselves. Saffron may tint the dish golden.

What greens should I use?

Use sturdy greens such as cabbage, kale, collards, mustard greens, turnip greens, or mixed pot herbs. Softer greens such as spinach, chard, sorrel, or parsley can be added in smaller amounts.

Is this recipe vegan?

The manuscript uses almond milk and no dairy or eggs. To make it vegan by modern standards, replace the honey with sugar or omit it.

Can I use store-bought almond milk?

Yes, but use plain unsweetened almond milk. Homemade almond milk or a richer almond milk gives a better texture and flavor.

Why does the recipe use almond milk instead of dairy milk?

Almond milk was common in medieval cooking because it was useful for fasting days, could be made from stored almonds, and enriched dishes without relying on fresh dairy. Fresh animal milk spoiled quickly without refrigeration, while almonds were easier to keep and prepare as needed.

Can I use spinach?

Yes, but spinach cooks down quickly and releases a lot of water. Sturdier greens such as kale, collards, cabbage, or mustard greens are closer to the spirit of the recipe.

Is this a pottage or a side dish?

It can be either. With more almond milk, it reads as a soft pottage. Cooked thicker, it becomes a creamed greens dish suitable as a side or first-course accompaniment.

Is this a Lenten dish?

It fits well with Lenten or fasting cookery because it uses almond milk rather than dairy milk and contains no meat or eggs. Replace the honey if following a stricter modern vegan interpretation.

More Medieval Greens and Wortys Recipes

• Medieval Wortys: A Harleian MS 279 Greens Recipe Hub
• Lange Wortys de Chare: Medieval Greens in Broth
• Joutes: Braised Greens from Harleian MS 279
• Lange Wortys de Pesoun: Medieval Greens with Peas
• Browse More Greens Recipes

Sources and Further Reading

• Thomas Austin, ed., Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books, Harleian MS 279 and Harleian MS 4016.
• Harleian MS 279, c.1430.
• Quick Homemade Almond Milk Recipe.
• Medieval Cooking Basics: The Importance of Almond Milk in Medieval Cooking.
• Additional interpretation based on practical cooking experience with medieval pottages, greens, almond milk, and manuscript cookery.

Final Thought: I understand why my teenage taste testers were suspicious of this dish. Cabbage, kale, almond milk, and rice flour do not sound exciting to a modern audience. But this is one of those medieval recipes that proves how much good cooking can happen with humble ingredients. Boil the greens well, press them dry, thicken the almond milk gently, and the result is far better than expected.

Would you serve Whyte Wortes as a soft pottage, or as thick creamed greens beside the rest of the first course?

Hidden tags: Whyte Wortes, Whyte Wortys, Harleian MS 279, medieval greens recipe, medieval almond milk recipe, almond milk pottage, vegan medieval recipe, vegetarian medieval recipe, Lenten recipe, fasting food, wortes, wortys, pottage, medieval pottage, creamed greens, saffron, rice flour, almond milk, 15th century English cookery, manuscript cookery, pot herbs, Fromond List, historical food research

Medieval Braised Greens with Peas | Lange Wortys de Pesoun (Harleian MS 279, c.1430)

Originally published December 13, 2015. Updated June 12, 2026 with revised interpretation notes, manuscript-first cooking guidance, modern substitutions, recipe schema, and additional historical context.

AI-assisted formatting and editing note: This article was updated with the assistance of ChatGPT for organization, grammar, HTML formatting, and checklist review. Historical interpretation, recipe judgment, cooking experience, and final editorial decisions are my own.

Medieval Braised Greens with Peas | Lange Wortys de Pesoun

One of the unexpected gifts of keeping a historical cooking blog for many years is the chance to return to earlier work with better tools, more experience, and kinder eyes.

When I first interpreted Lange Wortys de Pesoun in 2015, I was still learning how slippery medieval recipe categories can be. If something was cooked in a pot, I tended to think of it as soup. That made sense at the time. Many medieval recipes do live somewhere near the broad family of pottages, broths, sewes, bruets, and spoonable dishes.

But after more years of cooking from manuscripts, I have learned that a pot does not always mean soup.

Sometimes it means a thick pottage. Sometimes it means a braised vegetable dish. Sometimes it means greens lightly coated in a drawn pea broth. Sometimes, wonderfully, it can be all of those things depending on how much liquid the cook chooses to leave in the pot.

Lange Wortys de Pesoun, from Harleian MS 279, is one of those flexible dishes. It can be served brothy as a first-course pottage, especially with bread, or cooked down into a softer braised greens dish to accompany fish, eggs, cheese, bread, or a larger medieval meal.

Either way, it is lovely.

Lange Wortys de Pesoun, a 15th-century dish of greens, peas, onion, saffron, and broth from Harleian MS 279.

A Note from My 2015 Kitchen: My first version of this dish used beef broth because that was what I had made and had available in the kitchen. Today, reading the manuscript more closely, I would treat oil or fresh fish broth as the manuscript-first choices. Vegetable stock also makes a useful modern substitution, especially for a vegan or vegetarian table.

That earlier version was still delicious, but this update brings the interpretation closer to the wording of the original recipe.

The Original Recipe

The recipe appears in Thomas Austin’s edition of Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books, from Harleian MS 279, dated to about 1430.

.ij. Lange Wortes de pesoun.—Take grene pesyn, an washe hem clene an caste hem on a potte, an boyle hem tyl þey breste, an þanne take hem vppe of þe potte, an put hem with brothe yn a-noþer potte, and lete hem kele; þan draw hem þorw a straynowre in-to a fayre potte, an þan take oynonys, and screde hem in to or þre, an take hole wortys and boyle hem in fayre water: and take hem vppe, an ley hem on a fayre bord, an cytte on .iij. or iiij., an ley hem to þe oynonys in þe potte, to þe drawyd pesyn; an let hem boyle tyl þey ben tendyr; an þanne tak fayre oyle and frye hem, or ellys sum fresche broþe of sum maner fresche fysshe, an caste þer-to, an Safron, an salt a quantyte, and serue it forth.

A Working Translation

Take green peas, wash them clean, and put them in a pot. Boil them until they burst. Then take them from the pot, put them with broth in another pot, and let them cool. Draw them through a strainer into a clean pot. Then take onions and cut them into two or three pieces. Take whole wortes and boil them in clean water. Lift them out, lay them on a clean board, and cut them into three or four pieces. Add them to the onions in the pot with the strained peas. Let them boil until tender. Then take good oil and fry them, or else add fresh broth from some kind of fresh fish. Add saffron and salt in quantity, and serve it forth.

Manuscript Interpretation Note: The recipe does not begin with chopped frozen vegetables and a modern stock cube. It begins with fresh green peas cooked until they burst, strained into a pea broth or purée, whole greens cooked separately, onions cut in large pieces, and a final enrichment with either good oil or fresh fish broth.

What Are Wortys?

Wortys, or wortes, refers broadly to edible greens, especially members of the cabbage and brassica family. For this recipe, kale, collards, cabbage leaves, mustard greens, or similar sturdy greens are more faithful choices than tender spinach or chard.

The manuscript tells the cook to boil the greens whole, lay them on a board, and cut them into three or four pieces. That suggests a dish with soft, recognizable pieces of greens rather than finely chopped greens dissolved into soup.

This is one of the reasons I now read the dish as sitting between pottage and braise.

Why So Many Greens?

Greens appear frequently in medieval cooking because they were practical, nourishing, and widely available. Cabbage-family plants, leafy greens, and garden herbs could fill out a meal without requiring expensive ingredients. They were useful in household cooking, feast kitchens, fasting meals, and first-course dishes.

They also gave medieval cooks enormous flexibility. Greens could be boiled, chopped, braised, strained, enriched with broth, dressed with oil, colored with saffron, sharpened with vinegar, or thickened into a pottage. In manuscript cookery, wortes are not merely background vegetables. They are part of a larger system of economical, seasonal, and adaptable cooking.

Peas in the Medieval Kitchen

Peas are among the oldest cultivated foods, and they were familiar in Europe long before Harleian MS 279 was copied. Roman cookery includes recipes for peas, and medieval cooks inherited a long tradition of using both fresh and dried legumes.

By the Middle Ages, peas were not exotic. They were useful food. Dried peas could be stored and cooked into thick pottages during leaner seasons, while fresh green peas belonged more naturally to spring and early summer tables. That matters for this recipe because the manuscript calls for grene pesyn, or green peas.

Modern readers may picture bright, sweet garden peas. Medieval peas were probably not exactly the same as the tender frozen peas in our grocery stores. Many period peas were field peas: starchier, earthier, and often better suited for drying, boiling, and thickening. Fresh peas were certainly known, but the sweetness and tenderness of many modern varieties are the result of later selection.

Modern Pea Note: Frozen English peas are the easiest modern substitute and work very well. Marrowfat peas give a starchier, earthier result that may feel closer to older field peas. Split peas can be used in a pinch, but they make a thicker pea pottage and change the texture of the dish.

Peas, Pottage, and Texture

The peas are not simply tossed into the pot as a vegetable. They are boiled until they burst, cooled with broth, and drawn through a strainer. This creates a soft pea base that thickens and flavors the dish.

Fresh peas would make this a natural spring or early summer dish. Dried peas could also be used, though they require longer soaking and cooking. Either way, the peas provide body, sweetness, and substance.

In 2015, I treated this as a soup, and it works beautifully that way. With extra liquid, Lange Wortys de Pesoun becomes a comforting first-course pottage. With less liquid, it becomes braised greens in a pea-rich sauce.

That flexibility is part of its charm.

Oil, Fish Broth, and Fasting Food

The final instruction gives two options: use good oil, or else add fresh broth made from fresh fish.

That detail matters. It places the recipe comfortably within the world of medieval fasting and fish-day cookery. It can be made without meat broth, without dairy, and without eggs. With oil, it becomes fully vegan by modern standards. With fish broth, it remains appropriate for many medieval fast-day tables while adding depth and savor.

Modern Kitchen Choice: For a manuscript-first version, use olive oil or a light fish broth. For a vegetarian or vegan version, use olive oil and vegetable stock. Beef broth or chicken broth will make a delicious dish, but those are modern substitutions rather than the strongest reading of this specific recipe.

Lange Wortys de Pesoun: Medieval Greens with Peas

Serves: 8 as a first-course pottage or side dish

Ingredients

• 2 cups (280 g) fresh or frozen green peas
• 2 cups (480 ml) light fish broth, vegetable stock, or water, plus more as needed
• 1 large onion, peeled and cut into halves or thirds
• 1 1/2 pounds (680 g) sturdy greens such as kale, collards, cabbage leaves, or mustard greens
• 2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil, or additional fresh fish broth
• Pinch of saffron
• Salt, to taste

Method

1. Place the peas in a pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil and cook until the peas are very soft and beginning to burst.
2. Drain the peas, then combine them with 1 cup (240 ml) of the broth, stock, or water. Let them cool slightly.
3. Mash the peas well or blend briefly. Press them through a strainer for a smoother medieval-style drawn pea base.
4. Bring a separate pot of clean water to a boil. Add the whole greens and cook until softened.
5. Lift the greens from the water, drain well, and lay them on a board. Cut them into three or four large pieces.
6. Place the strained peas in a clean pot. Add the onion pieces and enough broth, stock, or water to make a thick pottage or loose sauce.
7. Add the cooked greens. Simmer until the onions and greens are tender.
8. Stir in the olive oil, or add fresh fish broth if using that option. Add saffron and salt to taste.
9. Serve warm. Leave it brothy for a pottage, or cook it down slightly for a braised greens dish.

Modern Kitchen Notes

For a brothy pottage: Add more liquid and serve with bread. This version works well as a first-course dish.

For braised greens: Use less liquid and cook the dish gently until the pea base lightly coats the greens.

For a vegan version: Use olive oil and vegetable stock or water.

For a fish-day version: Use a light fresh fish broth. Avoid a broth that is too strong or oily, since the greens and peas are delicate.

For dried peas: Soak dried green or marrowfat peas overnight, then cook until very soft before straining. The cooking time will be much longer than with fresh or frozen peas.

For softer greens: Spinach or chard may be used in a modern kitchen, but they cook down quickly and do not behave quite like sturdier medieval wortes.

How I Would Serve It

This dish belongs beautifully in a first course. It can sit beside bread, fish, eggs, or mild cheese. For a feast table, I would serve it in a broad dish with enough pea broth to keep it moist, but not so much that the greens disappear into soup.

For a spring-inspired first course, I can imagine Lange Wortys de Pesoun served with a light fish dish such as tench prepared one of three ways, fresh bread for sopping, simple egg dishes, and a mild cheese.

That gives the table variety without heaviness: greens, peas, fish, bread, eggs, and cheese. It is simple, seasonal, and very satisfying.

Feast Planning Note: This is an economical first-course dish. Peas and greens stretch well, the recipe can be made meatless, and the final texture can be adjusted depending on the rest of the menu. Serve it looser if the course needs a pottage, or thicker if you need a vegetable accompaniment.

Humoral and Historical Flavor Notes

Medieval medical and dietary thought often understood foods through qualities such as hot, cold, moist, and dry. Greens were often treated as cooling and moistening. Peas added substance and nourishment, but could also be considered heavy if not well cooked. Onion brought warmth. Saffron was warming and aromatic. Oil added richness and moisture, while fish broth made the dish more savory without turning it into a meat-day preparation.

Read this way, Lange Wortys de Pesoun is not merely greens and peas in a pot. It is a balanced preparation: green, soft, nourishing, lightly sweet, gently aromatic, and suitable for a fasting or first-course table.

The long cooking and straining of the peas also matters. It softens what might otherwise be a coarse legume and turns it into a gentle base for the greens. The saffron and onion lift the dish from plain boiled vegetables into something warmer, more fragrant, and more feast-worthy.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Lange Wortys de Pesoun a soup?

It can be served as a soup-like pottage, especially if more broth is added. The manuscript also supports a thicker braised interpretation, where the strained peas coat the greens rather than surrounding them with liquid.

What does “wortys” mean?

Wortys, or wortes, refers to edible greens. In this recipe, sturdy brassica greens such as kale, collards, cabbage leaves, or mustard greens are good choices.

What kind of peas should I use?

Fresh peas are closest to the wording of the recipe, but frozen English peas are the easiest modern substitute. Marrowfat peas give a starchier result. Split peas can be used, but they will make the dish thicker and closer to pea pottage.

Should this recipe use beef broth?

The manuscript specifies good oil or fresh fish broth. Beef broth can make a tasty modern version, and I used it in my earlier interpretation because I had homemade beef broth available, but it is not the manuscript-first choice.

Can this be made vegan?

Yes. Use olive oil and vegetable stock or water. The oil option in the manuscript makes this one of the easier Harleian recipes to adapt for a vegan table.

Can I use frozen peas?

Yes. Frozen peas are an excellent modern substitute for fresh green peas. Cook them until soft, then mash or blend and strain them to create the pea base.

Is this a Lenten dish?

It fits comfortably with Lenten or fasting food because it can be made with oil or fish broth rather than meat broth, dairy, or eggs.

More Medieval Greens and Wortys Recipes

• Medieval Wortys: A Harleian MS 279 Greens Recipe Hub
• Lange Wortys de Chare: Medieval Greens in Broth
• Whyte Wortes: White Greens from Harleian MS 279
• Joutes: Braised Greens from Harleian MS 279
• Browse More Greens Recipes

Sources and Further Reading

• Thomas Austin, ed., Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books, Harleian MS 279 and Harleian MS 4016.
• Harleian MS 279, c.1430.
• Additional interpretation based on practical cooking experience with medieval pottages, sewes, bruets, greens, and drawn dishes.

Final Thought: Revisiting this recipe reminded me why old posts are worth preserving and updating. My 2015 version captured the pleasure of the dish. My 2026 reading understands the manuscript more carefully. Between the two is the real work of historical cooking: learning, cooking, returning, and learning again.

Would you serve Lange Wortys de Pesoun as a brothy first-course pottage, or as braised greens beside the rest of the meal?

Hidden tags: Lange Wortys de Pesoun, Lange Wortes de Pesoun, Harleian MS 279, medieval greens recipe, medieval peas recipe, wortes, wortys, pottage, medieval pottage, braised greens, Lenten recipe, fasting food, vegan medieval recipe, vegetarian medieval recipe, saffron, onion, beans and legumes, 15th century English cookery, manuscript cookery, medieval vegetables, historical food research, medieval peas, field peas, marrowfat peas, first course medieval meal

Medieval Braised Kale and Collards in Beef Broth (Lange Wortys de Chare)

Medieval Braised Greens in Beef Broth - Lange Wortys de Chare

Lange Wortys de Chare, medieval braised greens simmered in beef broth and thickened with bread.

Much like Caboges, this dish of mixed greens braised in beef broth is far better than it appears at first reading.

A simple dish of greens? No. This is kale and collards, or other sturdy greens, first parboiled, then simmered again with beef, marrow bones, saffron, salt, and grated white bread. The result is not a sad little bowl of boiled leaves. It is a savory, bread-thickened pottage with rich broth clinging to the greens.

At a glance: This is a 15th-century English greens recipe from Harleian MS 279. The greens are cooked twice, enriched with beef broth and marrow bones, seasoned with saffron and salt, and thickened with grated white bread.

That is what medieval cooks did so well. They took humble ingredients and gave them structure, seasoning, fat, and patience.

What Is Lange Wortys de Chare?

Lange Wortys de Chare appears in Harleian MS 279, a 15th-century English cookery manuscript edited by Thomas Austin in Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books. The title may be understood as long wortes, or leafy greens, cooked with flesh. In this case, the flesh is beef with marrow bones.

This recipe belongs to the same family of medieval greens and vegetable pottages as Medieval Wortys, Lange Wortes de Pesoun, Joutes, Whyte Wortes, and Caboges.

Why Did Medieval Cooks Boil Greens Twice?

This recipe asks the cook to parboil the greens first, then cook them again in the beef broth. That may sound redundant, but it is an important part of the method.

Many sturdy greens, especially members of the brassica family such as kale, collards, cabbage leaves, and mustard greens, can be bitter or tough. The first boiling softens them and removes some harshness. The second cooking gives them flavor. Plain water takes something away; broth gives something back.

Kitchen lesson: The first boil tames the greens. The second boil feeds them. This is the difference between plain boiled greens and a medieval pottage worth serving.

That is still good kitchen sense. Modern cooks do similar things with collards, kale, mustard greens, and other bitter greens when they simmer them with stock, fat, smoked meat, or seasoning. Medieval cooks were not merely enduring greens. They were making them delicious.

Caboges and Lange Wortys: Cousins in the Pot

Caboges and Lange Wortys de Chare use nearly the same technique. Both recipes begin by parboiling the vegetable, then cooking it again in broth with marrow or marrow bones. Both use saffron and salt. Both are thickened with grated bread.

The difference is the vegetable. Caboges uses cabbage. Lange Wortys de Chare uses leafy greens. If Caboges is the cabbage cousin, Lange Wortys de Chare is the earthier, greener sibling.

What Greens Can You Use?

I used a mixture of kale and collards, which works beautifully. Both are sturdy greens and fit well with the medieval idea of wortes or coleworts. Other good choices include mustard greens, turnip greens, beet greens, cabbage leaves, or a mixture of bitter and mild greens.

I would avoid using only tender spinach unless you want a very soft result. Spinach cooks quickly and does not behave like kale or collards in a long simmer. This recipe wants greens with some backbone.

Best modern greens: kale, collards, mustard greens, turnip greens, beet greens, cabbage leaves, or a mixed pot of sturdy bitter greens.

For a deeper discussion of medieval wortes, coleworts, and the brassica family, see my post on Medieval Wortys.

Why Add Bread to Braised Greens?

The manuscript calls for a loaf of white bread to be grated into the pot. This is not filler. Bread was one of the great medieval thickeners, used in sauces, soups, stews, and pottages. Grated white bread dissolves into hot broth and gives it body, turning thin cooking liquid into something soft, rich, and spoonable.

For modern cooks, day-old manchet or another fine white bread is ideal. It grates better than fresh bread and thickens the broth more smoothly. Add it slowly, stirring well, because bread clumps are stubborn little gremlins.

Why This Dish Belongs at a Feast

Greens were inexpensive, useful, and widely available, but this recipe is not plain poverty food. Beef, marrow bones, saffron, white bread, and the labor of cooking the greens twice all raise the dish. It is budget-friendly compared with showier meats, but still rich enough to belong on a feast table.

This would be an excellent dish for an SCA feast. It is affordable, flexible, and deeply period in technique. It can be served brothier or thicker, lighter on the greens or packed with them. Greens cook down dramatically. A great heap becomes a much smaller pot. That is what greens do.

Greens and Humoral Balance in the Medieval Kitchen

Medieval cooks did not think about food only in terms of flavor. Food was also understood through the lens of humoral theory, in which ingredients were believed to possess qualities such as hot, cold, moist, or dry. Leafy greens were often considered cooling and moistening foods, useful in balancing richer or warmer dishes.

Yet greens could also be viewed as difficult if eaten raw or prepared poorly. This may help explain the careful treatment in recipes such as Lange Wortys de Chare. First the greens are parboiled, softening harshness and bitterness. Then they are cooked again in rich beef broth with marrow and saffron, ingredients associated with warmth, nourishment, and comfort. Bread thickens and softens the dish further, creating something more balanced and sustaining.

Humoral note: The greens begin as cooling, moist, and potentially harsh. The broth, marrow, saffron, and bread transform them into a warmer, richer, more sustaining pottage.

In other words, medieval cooks were not simply boiling vegetables. They were transforming them into food considered more agreeable to the body as well as the table.

Historic Recipe

The recipe below is from Thomas Austin’s edition of Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books. Harleian MS. 279 (ab. 1430), & Harl. MS. 4016 (ab. 1450), with extracts from Ashmole MS. 1429, Laud MS. 553, & Douce MS. 55.

.j. Lange Wortys de chare. Take beeff and merybonys, and boyle yt in fayre water; þan take fayre wortys and wassche hem clene in water, and parboyle hem in clene water; þan take hem vp of þe water after þe fyrst boylyng, an cut þe leuys a-to or a-þre, and caste hem in-to þe beff, and boyle to gederys: þan take a lof of whyte brede and grate yt, an caste it on þe pot, an safron & salt, & let it boyle y-now, and serue forth.

Modern Translation

Take beef and marrow bones, and boil them in clean water. Then take good greens and wash them clean in water, and parboil them in clean water. Take them up from the water after the first boiling, cut the leaves in two or three pieces, and put them into the beef, and boil together. Then take a loaf of white bread and grate it, and add it to the pot with saffron and salt. Let it boil enough, and serve it forth.

Modern Recipe Notes

This interpretation uses kale and collards as the greens, homemade beef stock as the broth, grated bread as the thickener, and saffron as the seasoning. If you have marrow from making the stock, add it at the end so it remains visible and rich.

The original recipe begins with beef and marrow bones boiled in water. For modern kitchens, prepared beef stock is easier. Homemade stock made with marrow bones is ideal.

Wild Brassica oleracea, ancestor of many familiar greens and cabbage-family vegetables. Image originally linked from kottke.org.

Medieval Braised Cabbage with Marrow Bones – Caboges from Harleian MS 279

Medieval Braised Cabbage with Marrow Bones: Caboges from Harleian MS 279

Caboges, a medieval braised cabbage dish from Harleian MS 279, served here with bread.

A humble dish of cabbage can still surprise you.

When I first made this recipe for Caboges from Harleian MS 279, I expected something plain and useful: boiled cabbage, perhaps a little broth, a serviceable green thing on the side of the table. Instead, I found tender cabbage braised in rich broth, scented with saffron, thickened with fine bread, and finished with marrow from the bones. It was cabbage dressed for court.

Even sworn cabbage haters tried it and wanted more. Success!

This recipe is one of several vegetable-forward dishes from Harleian MS 279, a 15th-century English cookery manuscript edited by Thomas Austin in Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books. It belongs in the same delicious family as medieval wortes, Whyte Wortes, Lange Wortys de Chare, and Joutes.

What Are Caboges?

Caboges is the Middle English form of “cabbages.” But this is not simply boiled cabbage. The recipe directs the cook to clean and parboil the cabbage, press it dry, chop it, and then cook it again in fresh broth with marrow bones. The broth is thickened either with grated fine bread or with a strained meat gruel. At service, the marrow is knocked from the bones and placed visibly in the dish.

That finishing touch matters. This is where the recipe moves from plain vegetable cookery into feast-worthy food.

Why Was This Medieval Cabbage Recipe Fit for a Feast?

Modern readers often imagine medieval vegetable dishes as plain or rustic, but medieval cooks knew how to elevate simple ingredients. Here, cabbage becomes noble through treatment:

• It is cooked twice for better texture and flavor.
• It is simmered in fresh broth rather than plain water.
• It is enriched with marrow bones.
• It is colored and scented with saffron.
• It is thickened with grated fine bread into a soft pottage.

The cabbage may be inexpensive, but the broth, marrow, saffron, bread, fuel, and kitchen labor all add value. This is one of the joys of medieval cooking: the simplest vegetable can become something luxurious when handled with care.

How Would Caboges Have Been Served?

Caboges would likely have appeared among the wortes, pottages, or vegetable dishes of a medieval meal, served alongside roasted meats, meat pies, bread, or other greens. The marrow bones and saffron suggest a dish meant for a table with resources, not merely a plain household cabbage. This is the kind of recipe that reminds us that medieval feast food was not only about spectacular meats and subtleties. Sometimes the quiet dish at the side of the table was doing serious work.

Why Did Medieval Cooks Use Bread to Thicken Soup and Pottage?

Bread appears throughout medieval cookery as a thickener for sauces, pottages, broths, and stews. Before modern cornstarch, commercial thickeners, or the familiar flour-and-butter roux, cooks often relied on grated bread, soaked bread, ground almonds, egg yolks, or strained grain and meat mixtures to give body to a dish.

In this recipe, the manuscript calls for fayre brede, or fine bread. For a modern kitchen, a day-old manchet or other good white bread works beautifully. It grates more easily than very fresh bread and dissolves into the broth, creating a smooth, velvety texture. I originally made this with grated Rastons, but manchet is likely the better everyday recommendation for readers who want to recreate the dish.

Bread also reflects the no-waste wisdom of the medieval kitchen. Yesterday’s loaf could become today’s sauce, sop, trencher, or pottage. In Caboges, the bread is not filler. It is the quiet magic that turns broth into something spoonable and satisfying.

Why Does the Recipe Offer Bread or Meat Gruel?

The recipe gives two ways to enrich and thicken the dish: grated fine bread, or a strained gruel made from fresh meat. The bread version is more approachable for a modern kitchen and produces a smooth pottage. The meat-gruel version would have made the dish even richer, especially in a busy medieval kitchen where broth, meat, and strained cooking liquids were already part of the day’s work.

Why Do the Marrow Bones Matter?

The marrow bones are not incidental. The recipe tells the cook to boil the cabbage with marrow bones, then knock out the marrow and lay two or three pieces in the dish at service. That means the marrow is both flavoring and garnish.

For modern cooks, bone marrow can feel unfamiliar, but it brings deep richness. Think of it as the medieval equivalent of finishing a dish with butter, olive oil, or the most luxurious spoonful of beef essence imaginable. If you make your own stock with marrow bones, do not waste the marrow. Use it. The manuscript wants you to.

Cabbage in Medieval Food Philosophy

Cabbage and other brassicas were useful, filling, and widely eaten, but they could also be considered coarse, windy, or difficult if poorly prepared. This recipe manages cabbage through careful technique. Parboiling softens and tames it. Pressing removes excess water. The second cooking in broth makes it nourishing. Saffron adds warmth and fragrance, while bread gives the broth body. The result is not limp cabbage water, but a carefully balanced pottage.

Historic Recipe

The recipe below is from Thomas Austin’s edition of Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books. Harleian MS. 279 (ab. 1430), & Harl. MS. 4016 (ab. 1450), with extracts from Ashmole MS. 1429, Laud MS. 553, & Douce MS. 55.

.iiij. Caboges. Take fayre caboges, an cutte hem, an pike hem clene and clene washe hem, an parboyle hem in fayre water, an þanne presse hem on a fayre bord; an þan choppe hem, and caste hem in a faire pot with goode freysshe broth, an wyth mery-bonys, and let it boyle: þanne grate fayre brede and caste þer-to, an caste þer-to Safron an salt; or ellys take gode grwel y-mad of freys flesshe, y-draw þorw a straynour, and caste þer-to. An whan þou seruyst yt inne, knocke owt þe marw of þe bonys, an ley þe marwe .ij. gobettys or .iij. in a dysshe, as þe semyth best, & serue forth.

Modern Translation

Take good cabbages, cut them, pick them clean, and wash them well. Parboil them in clean water, then press them on a clean board. Chop them, and put them in a clean pot with good fresh broth and marrow bones, and let it boil. Then grate fine bread and add it, and add saffron and salt. Or else take good gruel made of fresh meat, strained through a strainer, and add that. When you serve it, knock the marrow out of the bones and lay two or three pieces of marrow in the dish, as seems best, and serve it forth.

Modern Recipe Notes

This interpretation follows the breadcrumb-thickened version of the recipe rather than the alternate strained meat gruel. The first boiling softens the cabbage and removes some of its stronger edge. Pressing the cabbage keeps the final dish from becoming watery. The second cooking in broth gives depth, while the grated bread thickens the broth into a soft pottage.

The saffron is included in the original recipe, but I mark it as optional for modern cooks because of cost. If you have it, use it. It adds color, fragrance, and a little medieval splendor.

Simple ingredients: cabbage, broth, bread, saffron, and marrow.

Lady Graie’s Manchet Bread – Elizabethan White Bread Recipe

Elizabethan Manchet Bread – three loaves from one batch

Originally published 8/30/2015 / Updated 10/2/2025

Introduction

Can you imagine eating two to three pounds of bread a day? Or washing it down with a gallon of ale? During the late medieval and early modern period, that was the standard ration for households and garrisons alike. Bread wasn’t just food—it was the staple at every table. It appeared as trenchers, used as edible plates, or as the fine “table bread” known as pain de mayne or manchet.

The Menagier de Paris even instructs his wife that four-day-old trencher bread was best for entertaining, as it held its shape beneath sauced meats. From castle to cottage, bread marked rank: the nobility received pale white wheat bread, while darker maslin loaves went to servants. This post focuses on one of the most celebrated “white breads” of Elizabethan England: manchet.

What is manchet?

Manchet was the “best” white household bread of the late Tudor and early Stuart period. These were small, hand-sized loaves or rolls made from double-bolted flour (finely sifted to remove bran and germ), yielding a pale crumb and firm crust.

Leavening

Recipes call for a piece of old dough (sourdough-style leaven) opened with water and mixed with ale barm—brewer’s yeast skimmed from fermenting ale. In a modern kitchen, this is easily mimicked with commercial yeast and a splash of mild ale.

Deep dive: see my pillar post on White Bread in Early Modern England.

Historical Recipe

The following comes from The Good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin (1594), under the title “The making of manchets after my Ladie Graies use.” It is one of the earliest printed bread recipes in English.

Take two peckes of fine flower, which must be twice boulted, if you will have your manchet verie faire: Then lay it in a place where ye doe use to lay your dowe for your bread, and make a litle hole in it, and put in that water as much leaven as a crab, or a pretie big apple, and as much white salt as will into an Egshell, and all to breake your leaven in the water, and put into your flower halfe a pinte of good Ale yeast, and so stir this liquor among a litle of your flower, so that ye must make it but thin at the first meeting, and then cover it with flowre, and if it be in the winter, ye must keepe it verie warm… Of one pecke of flower ye make ten caste of Manchets faire and good.

White Bread in Early Modern England: Manchets (1594) vs. Robert May’s French Bread (1685)

Fine white breads on the English table, 16th–17th c.

Can you imagine eating two to three pounds of bread a day—and washing it down with ale? In late medieval and early modern kitchens, bread was the staple, from four-day-old trencher loaves to fine white table bread. This overview compares two elite white breads I bake often: manchet “after my Ladie Graies use” (1594) and Robert May’s “French bread” (1685).

Eisands with Oatmeal Groats — A Book of Cookrye (1591)

Eisands with Oatmeal Groats — A Book of Cookrye (1591)

Eisands of otemeal grotes is one of those recipes I knew I had to tackle the moment I found it while researching for a cook’s gathering in 2015. It reads like a bridge between early “puddings” (often meat-and-suet mixtures boiled in an animal casing) and the later sweet, bread- or grain-based boiled puddings that show up in the 17th century—think the ancestors of Christmas plum pudding. The question was how to cook it (bake, steam, boil?) and what exactly the “otemeale grotes” should be in a modern kitchen.

On the oats: “Groats” are hulled whole oat berries. Steel-cut oats (oat groats chopped into pieces) are the easiest modern stand-in and give the right “rice-like” bite. Rolled/quick oats are much later and behave differently; avoid them for authenticity and texture.

On the method: The surrounding recipes in A Book of Cookrye point to boiling the pudding in a cloth. When made this way, Eisands slices beautifully, travels well, and can be served warm or cold—perfect for a Curia Regis Brunch or feast service.

Original & Translation

Original (1591)	Modern Sense Translation
Eisands with Otemeale grotes. Take a pinte of Creame and seethe it, and when it is hot, put therto a pinte of Otemeale grotes, and let them soke in it all night, and put therto viii. yolks of egs, and a little Pepper, Cloves, mace, and saffron, and a good deale of Suet of beefe, and small Raisins and Dates, and a little Sugar. Sources: jducoeur.org & MedievalCookery.com	Eisands of Oatmeal Groats. Heat a pint of cream; when hot, add a pint of oatmeal groats and let them soak in it overnight. Mix in eight egg yolks; season with a little pepper, cloves, mace, and saffron. Add a good amount of beef suet, along with small raisins and dates, and a little sugar.

Apple & Curd Pancakes (1682) — A Fryed Meate in Haste for the Second Course

A Fryed Meate (Pancakes) in Haste for the Second Course (The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected, 1682)

A Fryed Meate in Haste for the Second Course — apple & curd pancakes finished with sugar.

Originally published 10/29/2017 - updated 9/17/2025

 In late 17th-century English cookery, “meat” can simply mean food/dish, not specifically animal flesh. This recipe from The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected (1682) makes quick, delicate apple-and-curd pancakes scented with rosewater, sack (fortified wine), cinnamon, and nutmeg. It’s a natural fit for a brunch or as a sweet course between heavier roasts. I originally made these for our Curia Regis Brunch set—now updated to my modern format.

Source: The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected (1682) — “A Fryed Meate (Pancakes) in Haste for the Second Course.”

Original Text (1682)

Take a pint of curds made tender of morning milk, pressed clean from the Whey, put to them one handful of flour, six eggs, casting away three whites, a little rosewater, sack, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, salt, and two pippins minced small, beat this all together into a thick batter, so that it may not run abroad; if you want wherewith to temper it add cream; when they are fried, scrape on sugar and send them up; if this curd be made with sack, as it may as well as with rennet, you may make a pudding with the whey thereof.

Notes: “Pippins” = firm cooking apples. “Sack” ≈ fortified white wine (e.g., dry sherry). “Curds” today map neatly to drained cottage cheese or farmer’s cheese.

Modern Recipe — Apple & Curd Pancakes (makes ~12 small)

Honeyed Fancies: Fried Struffoli from Scappi's Kitchen

🍯 Honeyed Fancies: Fried Struffoli from Scappi's Kitchen

Honeyed Struffoli with Candied Fruit, Served with Marzipan at the 12th Night 2024 Feast
A modern interpretation of Scappi’s 16th-century recipe, these golden morsels were served as part of the appetizer selection.

As part of the 12th Night 2024 feast, guests were greeted with beautiful trays of struffoli — crisp, golden morsels glazed in warm honey and crowned with jeweled candied fruit. This appetizer, adapted from Bartolomeo Scappi’s 16th-century cookbook Opera, captures the festive spirit and elegant artistry of Renaissance banquet tables.

🍽️ Explore the Full Feast: See the complete 12th Night 2024 Menu to discover other historical dishes served during the event.

Scappi was a master cook to Pope Pius V, and his recipes reflect the sophistication of high court cuisine in Italy. These honeyed fritters, served cold, would have dazzled diners with their texture and ornamentation. The original text appears in Libro Quinto, Cap. CXXXV, and can be found in resources like Domenico Romoli’s La Singolare Dottrina.

Scappi’s Original Italian (Cap. CXXXV):

Attanfi dieci oua fresche nate di quel giorno, & impastinsicon esse fior di farina alquanto piu liquida della fopradetta, & per fpatio di mezz’horasia ben rimenata sopra la tauola, & poi distendasi essa pasta in ruotoli sottili, come se si volesse fare ciambellette...

...con un coltello si taglierà e i ruotoli a dadi, & tagliati che saranno in gran numero, si lasceranno alquanto rasciugare, & poi con strutto che non sia troppo caldo, si friggeranno, avvertendo che non piglino troppo colore, & con la cocchiara forata cavisino, e si lascino scolare, poi habbisi una cazzuola con mele schiumato che sia ben caldo, & frigghifino in esso mele, dandoli una volta, & subito si cavino, & cavati che saranno, faccinsene castelli, & altre fantafie, & servinofreddi.

🍋 Modern Recipe: Honeyed Struffoli (Serves 8)

This version of struffoli preserves the festive spirit of Scappi's recipe while adapting it for a modern kitchen. These delightful bites can be made ahead and assembled just before serving.

Ingredients

• 2⅔ cups flour
• 4½ tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• Pinch of salt
• 2 medium eggs
• ⅔ cup sugar
• Zest of 1 orange
• Zest of ½ lemon

For Garnish

• 1⅓ cups honey
• Silver or gold sprinkles
• Candied cherries
• Candied orange peel

Instructions

1. In a large bowl, combine flour, softened butter, salt, sugar, citrus zest, lemon juice, and eggs. Mix vigorously by hand until a rough dough forms.
2. Turn dough onto a floured surface and knead until smooth. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least 2 hours.
3. After chilling, divide dough into 1 cm wide ropes and roll out. Cut into small pieces, about ⅓ inch in size.
4. Heat oil to 325°F. Fry pieces in small batches until golden brown. Remove and drain on paper towels.
5. Warm honey gently in a pan. Add the fried pieces and stir to coat.
6. Arrange on a platter in a mound or ring. Garnish with sprinkles and candied fruit. Serve at room temperature.

Storage Tip: Fried dough can be made up to 2–3 days in advance. Store in an airtight container and glaze with honey just before serving.

🧾 Translating Scappi: Then vs. Now

Scappi’s original recipe begins with a rich dough made from “ten fresh eggs of the day,” kneaded with fine flour until soft and elastic. Our modern version keeps the egg-based richness, but scales it for today’s kitchens—using two eggs along with butter and citrus for added aroma and softness.

Scappi instructs the cook to roll and cut the dough into “dadi” (dice), which are dried slightly and then fried in strutto (pork fat). We preserve the shape and technique but fry in neutral oil at 325°F for ease and availability. Once cooked, the pieces are tossed in “skimmed honey,” a process mirrored in our version by gently warming the honey and folding the fritters in until glazed. His final flourish—stacking the morsels into “castles and other fancies”—is echoed in our presentation, topped with candied fruit and festive sprinkles.

📚 Inspiration

This recipe was inspired by La Singolare Dottrina di M. Domenico Romoli and Scappi’s Opera, foundational texts in Renaissance culinary tradition.

Try Another Dish from the Feast: Don’t miss our recipe for Tortelletti d’Herba alla Lombarda, a savory herb-filled pasta that accompanied these sweet fritters at the table.

Tags: 12th Night, SCA Feast, Historical Recipes, Renaissance Cooking, Bartolomeo Scappi, Medieval Appetizer, Struffoli, Italian Holiday Food

Medieval Gruel Compared: Drawyn Grwel vs Grewel Eforced

The Evolution of Medieval Gruel: Comparing Grewel Eforced and Drawyn Grwel Across Manuscripts

Modern interpretation of medieval gruel served in rustic wooden bowl, featuring oatmeal, herbs, and tender meat

Introduction

While “gruel” might still evoke images of bleak Victorian workhouses or colorless hospital trays, the historical reality is far richer—and more flavorful. Across late medieval England, gruel wasn’t just a thin porridge for the poor. It evolved into a flexible culinary form enriched with meat, herbs, marrow, and even blood. In this article, we explore how various versions of grewel eforced and drawyn grwel appear across five major manuscripts spanning over a century (1390–1500).

This piece builds on our earlier posts detailing individual recipes from Grewel a-forsydde and Drawyn Grwel. Here, we compare them head-to-head: their ingredients, methods, intended audiences, and what they tell us about medieval food culture. Whether you're a culinary historian, a reenactor, or simply oat-curious, you'll come away with a deeper appreciation for this humble but endlessly adaptable dish.

What is Medieval Gruel?

At its simplest, medieval gruel is a liquid-based dish made from grain—typically oatmeal—boiled with water or broth. While it shares ancestry with porridge, gruel is thinner, more broth-like, and often served hot in bowls or trenchers. In most contexts, it was peasant food: cheap, hearty, and easily scalable to feed many mouths.

But medieval cookery manuscripts also preserve more elaborate versions: gruel that’s “eforced” (enriched) or “drawyn” (strained and tempered). These versions might include pork, beef, marrow bones, saffron, herbs, and careful preparation steps like grinding, sieving, and multiple boils. What emerges is a spectrum—from rustic sustenance to refined fare fit for noble households or healing tables.

Key Manuscripts and Timeframes

Let’s begin by situating the recipes within their historical sources. The five manuscripts below each contain a variant of fortified or tempered gruel, reflecting subtle changes in ingredients and technique over time:

• Fourme of Curye (Rylands MS 7, c. 1390): A courtly collection associated with the kitchens of Richard II, featuring a recipe for “grewel eforced” with pork and saffron.
• Liber Cure Cocorum (Sloane MS 1986, c. 1430): A northern English manuscript offering practical, poetic instructions for “gruel of force” with oat groats and careful straining.
• A Noble Boke off Cookry (c. 1468): Richer in tone, this version emphasizes marrow bones, strained broths, and meat purity, showing growing concern for elegance and digestion.
• Gentyllmanly Cokere (MS Pepys 1047, c. 1500): A late manuscript that elaborates on earlier trends with greater refinement, using both beef marrow and tender pork.
• Harleian MS. 279 – Drawyn Grwel (c. 1430): Unique for its use of beef and blood, this recipe is herb-forward (parsley and sage) and focused on texture via straining.

Together, these manuscripts span over 100 years and showcase the growing complexity of what began as peasant soup. In the sections that follow, we’ll compare them directly—ingredient by ingredient, technique by technique.

Ingredient Comparison Table

To understand how these recipes differ, it helps to view their ingredients side by side. Below is a simplified comparison of key components used in each manuscript’s version of enriched gruel.

Manuscript	Main Protein	Grain Type	Herbs & Spices	Color Additive	Strained?
Fourme of Curye (1390)	Pork	Oatmeal	None specified	Saffron	Yes
Liber Cure Cocorum (1430)	Pork	Oaten grotes (groats)	None specified	Saffron	Yes
A Noble Boke off Cookry (1468)	Pork + Marrow Bones	Oatmeal	None specified	None noted	Yes
Gentyllmanly Cokere (c. 1500)	Fresh Beef + Pork + Marrow	Oatmeal	None specified	Saffron	Yes
Harleian MS. 279 – Drawyn Grwel (1430)	Lean Beef + Blood	Oatmeal	Parsley, Sage	Blood (for browning)	Yes

Though all recipes rely on oatmeal as a base, we begin to see distinctions: pork in the earlier texts, marrow-rich preparations in later ones, and uniquely, beef and blood in Drawyn Grwel.

Technique Evolution Over Time

The progression from rustic gruel to refined dish is not just in ingredients—it’s visible in the techniques. Across the manuscripts, several key practices become more defined:

• Grinding: Meat is chopped and pounded in a mortar for smoother texture, especially emphasized in Fourme of Curye and the Noble Boke.
• Straining: Early recipes mention straining the oats and broth, likely through cloth or fine mesh. Later versions maintain this step for visual elegance and palatability.
• Simmering over time: Most recipes suggest long cooking times for the oats to fully soften and the broth to thicken naturally, creating a hearty but refined texture.
• Layered cooking: Initial boiling of meat to remove impurities, followed by broth use and second boiling, reflects growing culinary hygiene and sophistication.

These refinements reveal a shift in culinary values: from basic nourishment to aesthetics, digestion, and status.

Meat Matters: Pork vs. Beef vs. Marrow Bones

The choice of meat speaks volumes about both the period and the intended audience of each recipe. Pork was the most common in earlier versions—not surprising, given its affordability, versatility, and symbolic association with sustenance in medieval Europe.

By the 15th century, however, we begin to see a shift. Drawyn Grwel introduces lean beef as its protein base, likely reflecting both regional availability and growing preference for “cleaner” meat in refined dishes. The use of blood not only darkens the gruel but adds iron-rich depth—something prized in healing foods.

Later manuscripts, such as the Noble Boke and Gentyll manly Cokere, incorporate marrow bones. This addition denotes luxury, as marrow was considered both a delicacy and a rich, energy-dense food. These versions were likely intended for noble tables or ceremonial meals, rather than everyday fare.

Herbal and Spice Profiles

In contrast to the more minimalist early recipes, later medieval gruel preparations begin to incorporate aromatic herbs and luxury spices. These additions served dual purposes: enhancing flavor and communicating refinement or wealth.

• Parsley & Sage: Uniquely featured in Drawyn Grwel, these herbs reflect not only culinary flavoring but also healthful symbolism. Sage, in particular, was prized for digestive and antiseptic properties.
• Saffron: Used in Fourme of Curye, Liber Cure Cocorum, and Gentyllmanly Cokere, saffron was a luxury item. Its bright color and subtle aroma elevated gruel from humble food to a dish suitable for high-status tables.
• Salt & Pepper: Almost universally present, but rarely mentioned explicitly—assumed to be added to taste or in the straining stage.

While earlier recipes relied purely on the natural richness of meat and oats, the introduction of herbs and spices in later versions reflects the increasing overlap between medicine, taste, and social distinction in food.

Use of Blood and Color Manipulation

Perhaps the most striking feature in Drawyn Grwel is its use of blood—not just as an ingredient, but as a color and flavor enhancer. The instructions call for collecting the blood from boiled beef, then reintegrating it into the pot either before or after straining, to darken the gruel and enrich its depth.

In medieval cuisine, blood was not taboo—it was commonplace, particularly in sausages, black puddings, and stews. Beyond flavor, blood added color, thickness, and nutrients such as iron and protein, making it a functional choice for both presentation and nourishment.

Modern Substitutes for Blood:

If cooking for contemporary audiences, or if actual blood is unavailable or unappealing, consider these kitchen-friendly alternatives:

• Beef or pork drippings: Adds meaty richness and depth without the texture of blood.
• Dark soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce: Offers umami and color enhancement in small amounts.
• Black pudding crumbles: If available, crumble small amounts into the broth as a nod to traditional methods.
• Beef bone marrow or liver puree: Provides similar richness and body, with a smoother consistency.

Whether staying faithful to history or modernizing for comfort, the goal is the same: to deepen color and richness without overpowering the grain and herb base.

Textural Intent: Thin Broths vs. Fortified Soups

The spectrum of medieval gruels stretches from thin, drinkable broths to spoon-thick stews. Understanding where each version falls on this continuum offers insight into its purpose:

• “Rennyng” or Running Gruel: Often prescribed for the ill or elderly. These thinner preparations were easy to digest and often strained more thoroughly. Drawyn Grwel leans toward this category, despite its hearty ingredients, due to its emphasis on straining.
• “Eforced” or Enriched Gruel: These versions, like those from Fourme of Curye or Gentyllmanly Cokere, were denser and served as nourishing meals. They were intended to sustain laborers, feed households, or even anchor feasts.

Texture, in medieval cuisine, was as much about class and occasion as it was about preference. A smooth, clear gruel might be seen as elegant and appropriate for a noble sickbed, while a chunkier version signified abundance and rustic strength.

Straining, Drawing, and Presentation

The medieval instruction to “draw” gruel through a strainer was more than a culinary quirk—it was a meaningful technique tied to status, health, and texture. The act of straining removed bone fragments, tough oat hulls, gristle, and impurities, resulting in a smoother and more refined presentation.

In Drawyn Grwel, straining is explicitly mentioned after the beef, oatmeal, and herbs have been cooked. This step would have rendered a velvety, herbal broth with uniform consistency—particularly valuable when serving to nobles or the infirm.

In contrast, earlier eforced recipes—like those in Fourme of Curye or Liber Cure Cocorum—also include straining, but often retain more texture due to groats or unrefined meat. Later manuscripts, such as Gentyllmanly Cokere, reinforce this refinement trend with added marrow and extended simmering.

Presentation Tactics in Period:

• Use of colored additives (saffron, blood) for visual impact
• Garnishing with fresh herbs for brightness
• Serving in ceramic or wooden trenchers to match class or feast setting

The more refined the straining and finish, the more “gentle” the dish was considered—reinforcing its suitability for the elite, the convalescent, or religious fasting tables.

Modern Interpretations and Adaptations

Recreating these dishes today offers both a culinary time capsule and an opportunity to tailor the recipes to modern palates and dietary needs. Whether you're feeding reenactors or just experimenting in your home kitchen, each variation offers a different entry point.

• Drawyn Grwel: Ideal for those who enjoy savory herbal broths. It’s deeply umami-rich, with a texture like congee or smooth beef barley soup. The sage and parsley make it perfect for autumn or cold-season cooking.
• Grewel Eforced (Fourme of Curye / Noble Boke): More robust and filling, this version suits hearty appetites. The use of pork and marrow makes it feel like a medieval version of risotto or savory oatmeal stew.
• Vegetarian Adaptation: Replace meat with mushrooms, seitan, or legumes. Vegetable stock enriched with smoked paprika or miso paste gives depth. Use steel-cut oats for authenticity.

Don’t forget modern kitchen tools—stick blenders, cheesecloth, or food mills can help replicate medieval textures without the elbow grease.

Cultural Significance of Enriched Gruels

Fortified gruels in medieval times carried enormous cultural weight. They were more than food—they were medicine, community fare, and sometimes religious observance. A spoonful of oat-and-meat porridge could signify:

• Healing and Recovery: Smooth, strained gruels were often prescribed for the sick, elderly, or postnatal mothers due to their digestibility and warmth.
• Communal Nourishment: Gruels could be made in large quantities for feast days, fasting periods, or during times of scarcity.
• Hospitality and Ceremony: Enriched versions, especially those with saffron or marrow, were served to guests of rank or in religious institutions offering alms.

Thus, enriched gruel bridged social classes—from the laborer’s daily sustenance to the monk’s fast-day meal and the noblewoman’s recovery broth. Its versatility made it indispensable, and its variations offer a unique window into the values and limitations of medieval kitchens.

Connecting Historical Recipes to Contemporary Cuisine

Though centuries old, these medieval gruel recipes share surprising similarities with modern comfort foods around the world. The use of grains, savory broth, and slow cooking makes them natural ancestors to contemporary dishes:

• Congee (China): A rice-based porridge simmered with meat or vegetables, often garnished with herbs or preserved eggs.
• Risotto (Italy): While more refined and rice-based, the method of slow stirring and broth absorption mirrors enriched oat gruel preparation.
• Oatmeal Soup (Scotland): Known as brose or porage, this shares lineage with gruel and often includes meat or stock.
• Grits (American South): Ground cornmeal cooked to a creamy consistency, sometimes enriched with stock, butter, or cheese—illustrating the same principle of grain + fat + flavor.

These modern parallels show how gruel-style dishes persist as economical, nourishing meals suited for both everyday cooking and high-end reinvention. Medieval gruel may have laid the foundation for much of what we still enjoy today.

Final Thoughts: What Medieval Gruel Teaches Us

By tracing the evolution of gruel across these key manuscripts, we gain insight not only into historical cooking methods, but also into changing social, economic, and medicinal landscapes. What began as a humble bowl of oats and water evolved into sophisticated, enriched preparations that straddled class and occasion.

Whether drawn or eforced, pork- or beef-based, strained or chunky, medieval gruel was about nourishment, care, and adaptation. And that is perhaps its greatest legacy: a dish built not just for survival, but for thriving—one spoon at a time.

FAQs

Which medieval gruel recipe is closest to congee?

Drawyn Grwel, with its thin, strained texture and herbal notes, is the most comparable to traditional Asian congee. It’s easy to digest and offers subtle layers of flavor.

What’s the most luxurious version of gruel from the manuscripts?

The version from A Noble Boke off Cookry, featuring pork, marrow bones, and refined straining, likely served noble or ceremonial purposes and represents the most elevated example.

Are any of these recipes vegetarian-friendly?

While none of the original texts are vegetarian, they can be adapted using mushroom stock, miso, or root vegetables to replicate umami and texture. Use steel-cut oats for best results.

What modern dish is most similar to Grewel Eforced?

Grewel Eforced resembles a savory oatmeal risotto or oat-based barley stew. It’s thick, filling, and well-suited to one-pot cooking, particularly in colder months.

Why was straining so important in medieval cooking?

Straining removed bone shards, gristle, and oat hulls, improving both safety and texture. It was also associated with refinement, digestion, and presentation—especially for noble or medicinal meals.