Fukujinzuke (red pickles for curry) 福神漬け Photo courtesy of Avelyn Grene (Kristen Lynn)
Originallypublished 10/29/2029 Updated 10/31/2025
Fukujinzuke (福神漬け) is a sweet–salty soy-pickled relish traditionally served with Japanese curry rice (kare-raisu).
Its name honors the Shichi Fukujin—the Seven Lucky Gods—each symbolizing a different virtue.
A classic preparation uses seven vegetables such as daikon, lotus root, cucumber, eggplant, carrot, shiitake, and burdock.
Though curry and fukujinzuke date from Japan’s Meiji era (1868–1912), these pickles trace their roots to far older preservation arts.
Including them in the Crown Tournament Feast provided guests with a glimpse of how Japanese foodways evolved from the Muromachi period’s elegant honzen ryōri to later, modern tastes.
Tsukemono—Japanese pickles—form an essential part of nearly every meal.
They cleanse the palate, add color and texture, and reflect regional produce and technique.
Methods range from simple salt cures (shiozuke) and vinegar brines (amasuzuke) to soy-based (shoyuzuke), miso (misozuke), rice-bran (nukazuke), and sake-lees (kasuzuke) fermentations.
Our fukujinzuke is a shoyuzuke: vegetables simmered briefly in a soy–sugar–vinegar brine for a glossy, gently candied finish.
Commercial versions are often tinted red; traditional homespun ones remain soy-brown.
A sliver of beet can replace the food dye for color if desired.
🥕 Dietary Notes: Vegan & vegetarian. Contains soy.
For gluten-free, use tamari. Omit candied ginger for low-sugar or allium-free adaptation.
Capon Farced – Medieval Chicken with Grapes & Sausage (Harleian MS 279, 1430) | Baronial Twelfth Night FeastTwelfth Night Feast: Spatchcocked roast chicken with “farce” balls and giussel, plus pickled blueberries (a barberry stand-in). Originally published 12/31/202 Updated 10/30/2025
Capon Farced (stuffed capon) is a showpiece bird from Harleian MS. 279 (c. 1430): parsley and suet are parboiled, then mixed with hard-boiled egg, spices, and fruit (grapes “in time of year,” or onions), sometimes with minced pork, to stuff and roast the bird. For our Baronial Twelfth Night Feast, I adapted the recipe using a modern spatchcock roast and served the farce as sausage balls on the side for even cooking and speed at scale.
In medieval dietetics, poultry was considered warm and moist—suitable to winter. Sweet fruit and fragrant spices (ginger, cinnamon, cloves—optionally saffron) moderated the richness of suet and meat. Historically, stuffing kept birds moist at a hearth; for modern feast service, spatchcocking (removing the backbone to flatten the bird) ensures fast, even roasting and crisp skin without drying the meat.
How to Spatchcock (Butterfly) a Chicken
With sturdy kitchen shears, cut along both sides of the backbone (around the “parson’s nose”) and remove it. Flip the bird breast-side up and press firmly over the breastbone until it lies flat. It’s easiest when slightly firmed from the chill; expect a few crunches—normal!
Learn how to make vegetable stock powder, vegetable stock, and homemade bouillon from scratch.
Perfect for medieval-inspired cooking, camp meals, and budget-friendly feasts.
Originally published: 8/9/2025 | Updated: 10/30/2025
Dietary Notes 🥕: Vegan • Vegetarian • Gluten-Free.
Low-sodium: see tips below. Allergen-friendly: no nuts, dairy, soy; skip nutritional yeast if sensitive and sub mushroom powder.
To Make Callishones – Coriander-Scented Marchpane Candies (John Murrell, 1621)Callishones drying on the stovetop — fragrant marchpane sweets gilded with coriander and gold dust.
Updated: October 30, 2025 | Originally Published: 9/17/2015
To Make Callishones – Coriander-Scented Marchpane Candies
This elegant sweetmeat comes from John Murrell’sA Daily Exercise for Ladies and Gentlewomen (1621), a household guide filled with refined banqueting recipes — comfits, marchpanes, fruit pastes, and perfumed lozenges meant to close an Elizabethan feast. Callishones (or calysons) were pressed from almond paste and spiced with coriander and musk, then dried into aromatic lozenges.
The Elizabethan Banqueting Course
In the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras, a banqueting course was a distinct final act of a feast — a separate table laden with sugarwork, spiced wines, candied fruits, comfits, and perfumed pastes. These dishes were not meant to fill the stomach but to delight the senses and demonstrate refinement.
The fashion for such displays began in the Tudor court and reached its height under Elizabeth I, when sugar was imported from Madeira, the Azores, and later the Caribbean. Wealthy hosts commissioned sugar plate sculptures and marchpane castles, while smaller households imitated them with printed or molded sweets like callishones. The very word “banquet” came to mean not a meal, but a ceremonial table of confections.
Surviving accounts from royal and noble households show that banqueting rooms were sometimes separate from dining halls — built atop towers or in garden pavilions — so that guests could “walk to the banquet” after dinner and admire both the view and the artistry of the table.
Gyngaudre – Medieval Fish Liver Stew from Harleian MS. 279 (c. 1430)
Gyngaudre – Medieval Fish Liver Stew from Harleian MS. 279 (c. 1430)
Originally published July 2015 · Updated October 28, 2025
Illustration from The Book of Wonders of the Age (St Andrews ms32).
Fish in the Medieval Diet:
During the Middle Ages, fish was an essential protein for both the pious and the practical. Church fasting rules forbade meat from warm-blooded animals on Fridays, during Lent, and other holy seasons—amounting to nearly one-third of the year. Preserved and freshwater fish therefore became dietary staples across all social classes, and creative dishes like Gyngaudre ensured nothing was wasted.
Context & Historical Background
Gyngaudre (sometimes written Jingandre or Gyngawdre) is a rare entry in Harleian MS. 279 (c.1430), one of the great English culinary manuscripts of the 15th century. It appears alongside many Lenten and fasting-day recipes, where fish replaces red meat or poultry. The dish is a rich fish-liver stew, thickened and sharpened with wine, vinegar, saffron, and pepper.
Offal dishes—especially those made with liver and roe—were prized for their perceived nourishment and humoral warmth. According to medieval dietetic theory, liver was considered “hot and moist,” believed to restore vitality and promote sanguine balance. Fish livers, particularly from eel or cod, were thought especially rich in essence and restorative for those weakened by fasting.
Modern readers may balk at the idea of fish offal, but in its day this would have been a luxurious and economical dish—making use of every edible part of valuable seafood during Lent or “fish days.” Today, cod liver remains a delicacy in parts of Northern Europe, often canned in its own oil.
About the Source
Harleian MS. 279 is one of two major medieval English cookbooks compiled for upper households in the early 15th century (the other being Harleian MS. 4016). Its recipes show a transition between heavily spiced, sauce-rich medieval fare and the more refined early Tudor palate. “Gyngaudre” reflects that shift—spiced, fragrant, but comparatively simple.
What Is a “Fish Pouch”?
The manuscript calls for “the Pouches and the Lyuerys.” The term pouch may refer to the roe sac, as in “fish pouch of eggs,” or possibly a scribal error for “paunch”—meaning belly. Both interpretations fit a recipe focusing on rich internal organs. For modern cooks, roe or belly meat are both acceptable substitutes.
Modern Safety Note
While medieval cooks used offal liberally, modern dietary safety recommends avoiding fish livers from unknown sources due to possible toxin accumulation. If you wish to attempt this dish, use clean, cold-water species and ensure all organs come from a safe, traceable source. Alternatively, substitute filleted fish and roe for a milder and safer experience.
How to Make Elizabethan Fruit Pastes & Marmalades (Quince, Peach & Plum)Paste of quince (amber), apricot (yellow), and strawberries (red).
Originally published: December 2020 Updated: October 24, 2025
Sweet Preserves for a Banquet Table
In the Elizabethan era, fruit pastes—sometimes called marmalades or “chardequynce”—were glittering jewels of sugar, fruit, and spice. They appeared at the close of grand meals as part of the banqueting course, alongside marchpane, candied spices, and comfits. Far from our modern breakfast spreads, these were confections of luxury—delicate, perfumed, and designed as edible art.
My earliest experiment with fruit paste was a quince paste, followed by a Spanish-style marmalade made with dates, powdered pearls, and gold leaf. Since then, I’ve made pastes of apples, raspberries, strawberries, apricots, and plums. For our Baronial Twelfth Night, the table featured a full assortment of these sparkling fruits.
Historical Context
The first fruit pastes appear in late medieval manuscripts such as *A Leechbook* (Royal Medical Society MS 136, c.1444) and continue into the Tudor and Elizabethan printed cookbooks like A.W.’s A Book of Cookrye (1587) and John Partridge’s The Treasurie of Commodious Conceits (1573). These recipes often recommend honey or sugar as preservatives, with quinces or wardens (a firm pear) providing natural pectin. Sugar was believed to “close the stomach” and aid digestion—so these confections were thought medicinal as well as delightful.
By the late 16th century, “marmalade” had expanded beyond quince to include peaches, plums, and even medlars. Unlike modern spreads, these were boiled until firm and cut into decorative shapes, sometimes impressed with moulds and dusted with sugar to gleam like gemstones.
The very word marmalade comes from the Portuguese marmelada, meaning a preserve of quince (marmelo). It entered English through imported Iberian sweetmeats and gradually expanded to mean any thick fruit conserve. Only in the 17th century did citrus marmalades—especially bitter orange—become fashionable in England.
Sugar, Trade, and Luxury
In the 1400s and early 1500s, sugar was a costly import from Mediterranean trade routes, used sparingly in medicines and aristocratic kitchens. By Elizabeth’s reign, Caribbean plantations and new trade networks made sugar more available, transforming what had been a medicinal luxury into a fashionable indulgence. Elaborate sugarwork became a mark of refinement—these pastes were served on gilded dishes at banquets to showcase both taste and status.
Period Tools & Presentation
Household inventories list *marmalet boxes*—small wooden or pewter containers used to store fruit pastes—and carved boxwood moulds for shaping them into knots, roses, or heraldic badges. Displayed among marchpane and candied fruits, these confections were edible sculptures. At feasts, they were offered in the banquetting house alongside spiced wine, wafers, and sugar plate, eaten in tiny bites rather than spread on bread.
Humoral Theory Notes
According to Galenic medicine, quinces and other tart fruits were considered cold and dry in the second degree, balancing the hot and moist qualities of meats and wines. The addition of sugar, cinnamon, and ginger “warmed” the mixture, making it more agreeable to the stomach. Thus, fruit pastes served both as decoration and as digestive aid.
Iberian Influence
England’s fascination with “Spanish marmalades” reflected the influence of Iberian confectionery traditions using honey, rosewater, and spice. Early imports were prized gifts, inspiring English cooks to recreate them at home. A.W.’s peach marmalade and Partridge’s plum version show how continental recipes adapted to local fruits and English tastes.
Context. This post expands on Gervase Markham’s early-17th-century candying method from The English Huswife (1623), part of his famous “banqueting-stuffe”—the delicate sugarwork served at the end of elite meals. Candying preserved seasonal produce for winter and created jewel-like sweets for feast courses and subtleties. Below you’ll find Markham’s original text and a carefully tested modern method I use for SCA feast work.
Symbolism of the Turtle (Kame) — Longevity, Wisdom & Protection in Muromachi Japan
Urashima Tarō carried by a turtle to the Dragon Palace (Ryūgū-jō). Image via Kyuhoshi.
Originally Published 10/22/2019 - Updated 10/20/2025
In Japan, the turtle (kame) is a joyful emblem of longevity, wisdom, protection, and steady good fortune. It appears in courtly art, shrine lore, and folktales—from the patient, long-tailed minogame to the northern guardian Genbu (Black Tortoise). For our Muromachi-period Crown Tournament feast, turtle symbolism tied neatly to the suppon hot pot we served: a nourishing dish with deep historical roots.
During Japan’s Muromachi period (1336–1573), when Zen aesthetics and courtly rituals blended with warrior culture, symbolic animals often appeared in art and ceremonial meals. The turtle (kame), long associated with immortality and wisdom, represented the enduring stability of the shogunate and the virtues of patience and loyalty — qualities praised in poetry, calligraphy, and seasonal foods alike.
Okashi – Anmitsu and Japanese Sweet Traditions (Muromachi Feast Recreation)
Jasmine green tea ice cream on agar (kanten), surrounded by red bean paste and a drizzle of black sugar syrup.
Imagine my surprise when I realized I’d never published the final tray of the feast! This course—built around Anmitsu—was my nod to banquet finales that closed with fruit and confections. My interpretation layers agar jelly, fresh fruit, shiratama mochi, sweet red bean paste (anko), black sugar syrup (kuromitsu), and jasmine green tea ice cream.
Historical Frame: Okashi in Context
In the Muromachi period (1336–1573), formal banquet cuisine (honzen ryori) treated sweets as refined, seasonal endings rather than everyday fare. Sugar was scarce and costly; sweetness often came from beans, grains, or fruit. As long-distance trade expanded, imported sugars and new tools elevated confectionery into an art closely linked with tea culture—favoring elegance and balance over intense sweetness.
Seasonal Aesthetics: Confections mirrored the time of year—spring blossoms, summer greens, autumn leaves, winter snows. Their fleeting forms encouraged contemplation of impermanence and gratitude at table.
Trade, Technique, and Evolution
Maritime trade in the 16th century brought refined sugar and new implements that influenced sweet-making. Hybrid sweets (like castella sponge) arose from cultural exchange. Meanwhile, temple kitchens and courtly households continued to favor plant-based textures and subtle flavors, keeping okashi aligned with ideals of restraint.
Cross-Cultural Parallels
Just as medieval Europe prized marchpane and sugar plate as status-laden table art, Japan refined bean- and rice-based sweets into edible miniatures of the natural world. In both traditions, confectionery served as display, diplomacy, and delight.
Muromachi: codified banquets; sweet courses as refined finales
Edo: wagashi artistry flourishes with broader sugar access
Ingredient Insights
Agar (kanten): a seaweed-derived gelling agent long valued in Buddhist vegetarian cooking and later central to clear, delicate jellies in confectionery.
Anko (red bean paste): sweetened adzuki paste that underpins many classic sweets. Texture ranges from smooth to rustic and chunky.
Kuromitsu (black sugar syrup): made from unrefined brown sugars—deeper, rounder, and more mineral than modern white sugar syrups.
Before digital scales and thermostats, cooks read their kitchens by sight, sound, and feel—“a slow oven,” “boil to the feather,” or “as much as will make it thick.” This guide bridges those centuries so you can confidently adapt recipes from Harleian MS. 279, Scappi’s Opera, Hannah Wolley, and other early sources to modern cookware and temperatures.
Originally published February 15, 2018. Updated October 20, 2025 with expanded historical notes, new images, and improved formatting.
In the Middle Ages, Lent wasn’t merely a season of self-denial — it was an entire culinary calendar. Between Lent, Advent, Ember Days, and weekly “fish days” on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, nearly one-third of the medieval year was devoted to fasting. During those times, meat, eggs, butter, and cheese were forbidden, yet cooks were expected to provide flavorful, nourishing meals that upheld both piety and hospitality. This collection explores five authentic Lenten recipes from Harleian MS. 279 and related manuscripts, revealing how creative and satisfying medieval fasting fare could be.
Rather than bland penitence, medieval Lenten cookery celebrated ingenuity. Almond milk stood in for dairy, oil and wine replaced animal fats, and fish of every sort — fresh, dried, salted, or pickled — became the centerpiece of elegant banquets. Even humble ingredients like peas or leeks were transformed through spice, color, and texture into dishes worthy of nobles and abbots alike.
