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

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

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

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

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

Read the preserved original feast post here.

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

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

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

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

The Original Menu

First Course

Second Course

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

Third Course

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

Fourth Course

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

Anglo-Saxon Dining at a Glance

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

Why Revisit This Feast?

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

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

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

Food as Medicine in Anglo-Saxon England

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

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

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

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

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

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

Source Spotlight: Bald’s Leechbook

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

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

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Roman Echoes: Apicius

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

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

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

Case Study: Æppla Syfling

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

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

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

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

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

Full research post: Æppla Syfling: Anglo-Saxon Apple Butter or Savory Apple Sauce? (coming soon)

Reconsidering Mary Savelli

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

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

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

What I Would Change Today

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

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

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

Recipe Status and Research Notes

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

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

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

Updated Recipe Links

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

Frequently Asked Questions About Anglo-Saxon Food

Did Anglo-Saxons use spices?

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

Was Anglo-Saxon food bland?

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

Did Anglo-Saxons eat apples with meat?

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

Was food considered medicine?

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

Did Anglo-Saxons use humoral theory?

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

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Sources and Further Reading

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

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

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

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.

Soupes Jamberlayne – Sops of Bread in Mulled Wine

Soupes Jamberlayne – Sops of Bread in Mulled Wine

Originally published November 10, 2015. Updated June 7, 2026.

Soupes Jamberlayne, toasted bread soaked in spiced medieval wine
Soupes Jamberlayne, a medieval dish of toasted bread soaked in spiced wine.

Soupes Jamberlayne, also known as Sops Chamberlain, is a simple but fascinating dish from Harleian MS. 279: toasted bread soaked in sweetened, spiced wine and served “in manner of a potage.” It sits in that wonderfully medieval territory where bread, drink, sauce, and spoon dish all overlap.

This is not my favorite recipe from the manuscript, and I want to be honest about that. Wine can be a migraine trigger for me, so wine-heavy dishes are not recipes I return to often. Still, Soupes Jamberlayne is historically valuable because it shows us how important sops were in late medieval English cooking. Medieval cooks did not merely serve bread beside liquids; they often built entire dishes around bread absorbing broth, milk, almond milk, wine, or sauce.

Think of this less as “soggy bread” and more as a warm, spiced, wine-soaked bread pottage. The bread gives body. The wine gives warmth and acidity. Ginger, cinnamon, sugar, and blaunch powder turn the liquid into something closer to mulled wine. It may not be everyone’s perfect breakfast, but it absolutely belongs in the medieval sop family alongside Lyode Soppes, Soupes Dorye, Bruet of Almaynne in Lente, and Rastons.

Bruet of Almaynne in Lente – A Medieval Almond Milk Porridge with Dates

Bruet of Almaynne in Lente – Medieval Almond Milk Porridge with Dates

Originally published November 5, 2015. Updated June 7, 2026.

Bruet of Almaynne in Lente, a medieval almond milk porridge with dates
Bruet of Almaynne in Lente, a Lenten almond milk bruet with dates.

Talk about comfort food! Bruet of Almaynne in Lente is one of my favorite medieval “porridge” recipes from Harleian MS. 279. It is creamy, gently sweet, rich with almond milk, and brightened with chopped dates. It comes together quickly, feels soothing, and has the kind of soft, spoonable texture that makes it easy to imagine at a cold-weather feast, a Lenten table, or even a modern camp breakfast.

That said, “porridge” is a useful modern description rather than a perfect medieval one. The manuscript calls this dish a bruet, a broth or liquid preparation thickened in some way. In this case, fine thick almond milk is lightly thickened with rice flour and sweetened with sugar and dates. The original recipe specifically tells the cook to “look that it be running,” meaning the finished dish should remain loose and pourable, not thick like a set pudding.

When I first made this recipe, mine thickened as it cooled. By the time I sat down to eat it, the texture had moved from a running bruet into something closer to a loose pudding. It was still delicious, and honestly, I immediately added it to my “must serve at a feast someday” list. But for a closer interpretation, the cook should aim for a silky almond broth or thin cream-of-rice consistency rather than a firm porridge.