Saturday, 26 April 2014

A Shakespeare Feast

Something a bit different this week.  I thought - following the suggestion of a friend - that it would be a nice idea to get together a group of my friends who live locally and have been complimentary about my blog, and feed them.  Thus, the Shakespeare Feast was designed.



Quite simply, I devised a menu in which I pulled together all my Shakespeare-inspired dishes (plus two new ones which I will write about in my next post), cooked them over two days in the Easter holidays and then invited 11 friends, plus 3 children, to come and partake.  We ate, we drank, we talked... and nobody complained about the fact that I hadn't considered the shortfall between the number of chairs in my flat (10) and the number of guests! 




A Shakespeare Feast: the menu

MAIN COURSES

Falstaff's Fricassee: "Item a capon...2s 2d,,,Item sack two gallons...5s 8d." (Henry IV Part One)

Henry V's Leek Tart: "the Welshmen did good service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps." (Henry V)

Pea and Bean 'Pottage': "Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog and thatis the next way to give poor jades the bots." (Henry IV Part One)


Henry V's Leek Tart

 
DESSERTS

Richmond Maids of Honour: "Dost thou think because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale." (Twelfth Night)

Gingerbread: "An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread."  (Love's Labour's Lost)

Beatrice's 'Civil' Orange Cake: "The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil ... civil as an orange." (Much Ado About Nothing)

Richmond Maids of Honour


 Thank you to all my guests for their support and all the wine - Falstaff would be proud of you! 


Thursday, 17 April 2014

Food as Metaphor in Shakespeare



As well as using food and meals to create character and add dramatic impact, Shakespeare litters his plays with food references used metaphorically.  Perhaps that is no surprise given Shakespeare's interest in playing with the English language and finding ever more inventive ways to express ideas and thought.  Whether it be Falstaff's derogatory description of the cowardly men he has pressed to fight for him as "toasts-and-butter" (Henry IV Part One, IV, 2, 20), or Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream using the image of a "double cherry" (III, 2, 209) to describe her former intimacy with Hermia, such images add poetry and resonance to Shakespeare's language. 

Two plays - Hamlet and Much Ado About Nothing - make particularly interesting use of food metaphors and imagery.

Hamlet (c. 1600), probably Shakespeare's best known play, tells of the eponymous protagonist's attempt to avenge the murder of his father by his uncle Claudius, who has subsequently taken the throne of Denmark and married his brother's widow, Gertrude.  Hamlet's tragedy lies in his inability to act quickly and decisively - his delay, whilst the trigger for beautiful, philosophical musings (“To be or not to be” being one such example), also leads, both directly and indirectly, to an extremely high corpse count by the end of the play, with eight characters dying either on or off stage, including Hamlet.  In a play obsessed with life and death, the body and the soul, the frailty of human flesh and the divinity of human reason, it is perhaps no surprise that the characters, and particularly Hamlet, are preoccupied with images of food and eating, an activity that Hamlet notes puts us on a par with animals: 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . What is a man
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed?  A beast, no more.  (IV, 4, 33-35)

At the start of the play Hamlet – not yet apprized of the truth of his father's death, but decidedly unhappy at his mother's prompt remarriage to his uncle - bitterly tells his best friend Horatio, who comments on the short period of time between Hamlet's father's funeral and his mother's remarriage: "The funeral baked meats / Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables" (I, 2, 180-81).  When, three scenes later, Hamlet encounters the ghost of his dead father, he learns the reality of his father's death, namely that he was murdered by Claudius whilst sleeping one afternoon in his orchard.  The ghost describes how his brother poured poison into his ear which "with a sudden vigour it doth posset / And curd, like eager droppings into milk, / The thin and wholesome blood" (I, 5, 68-70).  A posset was a popular drink made of hot milk curdled with wine or ale, and sometimes spiced, whilst curd is a dairy product created by curdling milk with rennet or an acidic substance such as lemon juice and subsequently used as the basis of cheese.  In both cases the food references illustrate the effect the poison has on the king's blood, thus causing his death.   

 The Murder of King Hamlet by his brother, Claudius


 Later, in Act III, Scene 3, as Hamlet watches his uncle pray and considers whether to kill him or not - concluding that this is not the time as to kill someone in the act of prayer would send their soul to heaven, a fate Hamlet does not want for his murderous uncle - he laments the fact that Claudius killed his father without warning, giving him no time to repent of his sins and prepare his soul, describing his father as being “full of bread” (III, 3, 80), an echo of Ezekiel 16: 49 where it is a reference to the sin of gluttony.  The Biblical reference – and its interpretation – may explain the ghost’s description of how, because he was given no time to repent his sins before his death, he is currently in Purgatory where he is “confined to fast in fires, / Till the foul crimes done in [his] days of nature / Are burnt and purged away” (I, 5, 11-13): fasting would be the entirely appropriate punishment for the sin of gluttony.  And in Act IV, Scene 3, after he has killed Polonius, his girlfriend Ophelia’s father, who was hiding behind the tapestry in the Queen’s chamber and eavesdropping on a conversation between Gertrude and Hamlet, Hamlet uses food analogies to describe Death as the great equaliser. When asked by his uncle where Polonius’s body is, Hamlet wittily states: “At supper... Not where he eats, but where a is eaten” (17-19), and then proceeds to describe how “A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and / eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm” (25-26). 

Much Ado About Nothing – probably written a year or two before Hamlet – a comedy of warring couples and foolish misunderstandings, is also steeped in food metaphors, but to an entirely different end.  Beatrice and Benedick, one of the play’s central couples who, at the start, delight in hating one another and share a mutual antipathy to love and marriage, but who through trickery are persuaded to fall in love, use references to food and eating as part of their self-proclaimed “merry war” against one another (I, 1, 57).  When they meet up at the beginning of the play, after Benedick has been away fighting, Benedick declares his surprise that Beatrice – whom he dubs “Lady Disdain” is still alive.  She retorts: “Is it possible disdain should die while she hath / such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?” (I, 1, 112-113)  Later on, after a bruising encounter with Beatrice at a masked party, Benedick declares to his superior, Don Pedro, that he will not hang around in Beatrice’s presence: “O God, sir, here’s a dish I love not; I cannot / endure my Lady Tongue.  (II, 1, 251-52)

As well as these general images of food and feeding, Shakespeare makes use of the image of an orange at two points in the play.  When the young soldier Claudio – half of the other central couple in the play – is sulking because he thinks Don Pedro has courted Beatrice’s meek cousin, Hero, for himself, rather than for Claudio as he had promised, Beatrice notes of him: 

The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry
nor well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and something
of that jealous complexion.  (II, 1, 269-271)

Here the Seville orange metaphor encapsulates Beatrice’s sharp wit and tart satire, as well as the rather unattractive sulky jealousy that characterises the easily gulled Claudio.  But the image of an orange will be used later in the play for far more cruel ends.  Persuaded to believe (wrongly) that Hero has been unfaithful to him, Claudio rejects her on their wedding day, comparing her to a “rotten orange” (IV, 1, 30) which looks virtuous and honourable on the outside, but is decayed and corrupt within.  Fortunately, since Much Ado is a comedy, Claudio is led to see the error of his ways and to realize that Hero is as chaste and pure within as she appears on the outside.

In honour of the fact that Beatrice uses her orange metaphor appropriately – unlike the foolish Claudio – I also responded metaphorically to these metaphorical references and devised a cake for this great female wit.   

BEATRICE’S CIVIL ORANGE CAKE (makes approximately 8 slices)

Ingredients:
200g soft butter
200g golden caster sugar
2 large eggs
40g plain flour
2 tablespoons Seville marmalade
140g ground almonds
Grated zest and juice of 1 orange
6 tablespoons (approx) of icing sugar

Method:
Line a loaf tin with greaseproof paper or baking parchment.  Cream together the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy.  Gently beat in the eggs one at a time, adding some of the flour between each addition to stop the mixture curdling.  Then fold in the marmalade, orange zest (not the juice) and ground almonds.
Spoon the mixture into the lined cake tin, lightly smoothing the top, and bake for 45-60 minutes at 180C / Gas mark 4, until a skewer leaves the cake without any mixture stuck to it.
Leave the cake to cool in its tin. 
When the cake is cold remove it from the tin.  Make an icing by mixing the sieved icing sugar with sufficient orange juice to make a thin, smooth paste.  Drizzle this over the top of the cake and leave to set.  



Saturday, 29 March 2014

Falstaff: The first literary foodie?



A few posts back, when I was still on the Middle Ages, I wrote about Geoffrey Chaucer's innovative literary creation of a cook as a storyteller - see  http://pagetoplate.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/food-for-stories.html  Now that I've moved onto Shakespeare, I wonder if there's another literary first here, namely the first foodie in English literature, Sir John Falstaff. 

Admittedly, one of Chaucer's pilgrims, the Franklin (a landowner, but not of noble birth), is described as a man who finds delight in food and drink; describing him in the General Prologue, the narrator writes "It snewed [snowed] in his hous of mete [food] and dryke / Of alle deyntees [delicacies] that men koude thynke" (lines 345-46).  However, there are just a few lines of description and, when the Franklin starts talking and telling stories, food is nowhere to be found. 

However, Shakespeare's Falstaff - a character thought to be based on the real historical figure of Sir John Oldcastle, a leader of the Lollards (a proto-Protestant religious movement), who was executed in 1417 following  a failed rebellion against his former friend, King Henry V - is quite another matter.  Falstaff appears in three of Shakespeare's plays, Henry IV Part One (c. 1597), Henry IV Part Two (c. 1598) and The Merry Wives of Windsor (c. 1597) and is referred to in a fourth, Henry V (c. 1599), in which he dies.  In all these plays he is associated with food and drink, with his gluttony being a key aspect of his character: it defines his physical appearance, permeates his speech and his actions and also highlights his moral character.  




Falstaff examining his recruits by William Hogarth (1730)

 Falstaff's gluttony makes him fat, and his bulk provokes much humour.  In Henry IV Part One he jokes, when told to lie down on the ground by Prince Hal (the future Henry V), that he will only do so if there are "any levers to lift [him] up again" (II, 2, 33).  In turn Hal calls him a "huge hill of flesh" (II, 4, 239) and in the same scene another character addresses him as "fat paunch" (139). 

Food and drink also permeate Falstaff's speech and behaviour.  It is no coincidence that in Henry IV Parts One and Two Falstaff is frequently found at the Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap, a place where food and drink are readily available, and where he frequently calls for food and drink: "Hostess, my breakfast" (H IV Part One III, 3, 202); "Give me a cup of sack, boy" (H IV Part One II, 4, 112).  Sack was a strong, dry white wine from southern Spain and, in Henry V, the hostess confirms that Falstaff called for sack whilst on his deathbed.  In Henry IV Part One much merriment is provoked by the discovery of a bill, about Falstaff's sleeping person, itemising all the money he owes the tavern:
                                               
                                                Item a capon ......................................2s 2d
                                                Item sauce..............................................4d
                                                Item sack two gallons...........................5s 8d
                                                Item anchovies and sack after dinner......2s 6d
                                                Item bread................................................ob  (II, 4, 520-524)

"Ob" is an abbreviation of 'obolus' meaning "half-penny", as Prince Hal notes: "O monstrous!  But one halfpennyworth of / bread to this intolerable deal of sack?" (II, 4, 525-26). 

Whilst the disproportionate amount of alcohol to food is amusing, Hal's reaction also points to the way Falstaff's gluttony shapes his moral character.  As well as being amusing and jovial, Falstaff is lazy, cowardly and deceitful; he even takes the credit for killing Hotspur, Hal's arch-nemesis, at the end of Henry IV Part One.  And the two parts of Henry IV trace Prince Hal's gradual distancing of himself from his old friend and surrogate father as he prepares to become King Henry V.  At the end of Richard II the new King Henry IV (Hal's father) complains that he hasn't seen his "unthrifty son" for "three months" and that he is known to be frequenting the London taverns with "unrestrained loose companions" (V, 3, 1-7), and at the beginning of Henry IV Part One we discover that Falstaff is one of these reprobates.  However, early on in the play Hal tells the audience that he is intending to reform and that, owing to his dissolute behaviour, his transformation will be that much more impressive.  Hal's eventual estrangement from Falstaff is foreshadowed in a comic role-play he and Falstaff engage in, in which Hal plays his father and Falstaff plays Hal.  Reprimanding his 'son' for his relationship with Falstaff, Hal - as Henry IV - refers disparagingly to his physical excesses, calling him "that trunk of / humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen / parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed / cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the / pudding in his belly..." (II, 4, 437 - 441).  At the end of Henry IV Part Two comes one of the most moving scenes in Shakespeare when the newly crowned King Henry V, as he processes out of Westminster Abbey, snubs Falstaff who is waiting to greet him, saying "I know thee not, old man ... Leave gormandising" (V, 5, 51-58). 

I doubt Falstaff would ever be able to leave 'gormandising' and, in honour of this great dramatic creation, I have used two of his favourite items - capon and sack (namely chicken and white wine) - to make Falstaff's Fricassee, my version of the "white ffrigasy" found in Mrs Sarah Longe her Receipt Booke of 1610 and reproduced in Andrew Dalby and Maureen Dalby's The Shakespeare Cookbook (British Museum Press, 2012). 

FALSTAFF'S FRICASSEE (serves 2 - 3)

Ingredients:
1 onion (finely chopped)
1 clove of garlic (finely chopped or crushed)
1/2 red pepper (chopped into small pieces)
300g cooked chicken (in pieces)
6 mushrooms (quartered)
100ml dry white wine
1 tablespoon plain flour
salt and pepper
100ml creme fraiche
chopped parsley - handful

Method:
Fry the onion in olive oil over a moderate heat until translucent.  Then add the garlic and red pepper; fry for another 10 minutes to soften.  Add the mushrooms and chicken and cook for a few minutes.  Stir in the tablespoon of flour and cook for a couple of minutes; then add the white wine and cook for 10 minutes.  Stir in the creme fraiche and warm through; add salt and pepper to taste.  Sprinkle with a handful of chopped parsley. 

Tip: on the second day I used this as a filling for a chicken pie using ready-made puff pastry; yum!


Monday, 24 March 2014

Writing about writing



No recipes or musings on food in literature from me this week; instead, a post about my writing.  A couple of weeks ago I was emailed by a good friend – we’ve known each other since we were 11 - and fellow-blogger, Lucy Marcovitch.  Lucy is a freelance writer who has had two books published for children (they’re great, as my niece and nephews, plus assorted friends’ children will testify).  She also writes short stories, articles and guest blogs, as well as her own blog about writing for children and children’s reading – see www.lucymarcovitch.wordpress.com  Lucy invited me to take part in the “Writing Process Blog Tour”: bloggers answers four questions about how they write and, at the end, introduce up to three fellow-bloggers who, the following week, write their own post about their writing, introduce some more writers and so on, resulting in a string of writing-related blogs.  This week it’s my turn. 

Question 1:  What am I working on? 
This blog – From Page to Plate - is my writing focus at the moment.  I started it in January 2014, publishing my first post on New Year’s Day.  My two big loves are cooking and reading, and last spring I thought of an idea that would enable me to combine them.  I would research references to food in English Literature, to see where they appear and the extent to which they change over time, and then I would devise a 21st century culinary homage to the literary reference in my North London kitchen.  It took me a while to get going, as I initially thought that it would be a book (well, I can but dream), but when a couple of friends suggested a blog, that provided the impetus to get going.  In January I was blogging about Anglo-Saxon literature; after a couple of weeks I moved onto the Middle Ages and now I’ve just embarked on Shakespeare.  I think it’s going to take me a while to get to the 21st century!  But I’m already thinking of where else I could go with this: French literature (Proust’s madeleines), children’s literature... this could be a lifetime enterprise! 

Question 2:  How does my work differ from others of its genre?
There are a myriad of fantastic blogs on the history of food which gather together recipes from old cookery books, describe the cultural history of food and sometimes include accounts of cooking these recipes in a 21st century kitchen.  My blog is not really about the history of food.  What I am interested in is exploring how food is written about in literature, how this changes over time (I’m adopting a chronological approach) and also why the way it is written about changes.  There are books and blogs about food in literature – e.g. the British Museum publications The Shakespeare Cookbook, The Jane Austen Cookbook - but I am not aware of anyone actually tracing the changes in the way food is depicted in literature over time.  Also, what I think is different about my writing is that the recipes in my blog are a creative response to the literature, rather than an attempt to reconstruct the food as it actually appears in the poem, novel or play.  So, whilst I might consult an old recipe, that will be a starting point for my own more imaginative response. 

Question 3:  Why do I write what I do? 
I think I’ve already answered this:  because I love cooking and because I love reading.  Will that do?!

Question 4:  How does my writing process work?
Oh, if only I had more time... I work full-time, teaching English in a secondary school, so there is limited time to write, particularly in term-time.  I’m not sure I have a writing process; it’s all a bit piecemeal.  I’m writing this on a Sunday afternoon, aware that there is a pile of A Level coursework essays in my school bag that need marking ... I don’t feel guilty at the moment as I did a lot of marking yesterday (it’s a horrible time of year where marking is concerned!), but guilt about schoolwork can impede the writing process.  That said, on a normal term-time weekend I try and set aside a couple of hours for writing, usually on a Sunday afternoon; ideally this is supplemented by an hour or two in the week.  Of course the holidays do provide longer periods of time to write and I take advantage of that, though I don’t really have a regular pattern to my writing or how I use my time. 

And of course this blog is not just about writing.  It begins with reading – usually re-reading, so sometimes skimming suffices – then thinking about what I could cook, then cooking it (and whilst sometimes a recipe works first time, sometimes, as I’m experiencing at the moment as I try to devise a Seville orange drizzle cake for Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing, it’s a lengthy process – I’m 3 cakes down and not there yet; anyone want a piece of cake?) and then only finally do I write.  So, it takes time, but it’s great fun and I’m loving it!  I’m intending to publish my next post – on Shakespeare’s gourmand Falstaff – in the next couple of weeks (the coursework marking will be over by the end of the month!) so please do come back and visit it. 
Coming up next week – on March 31st - are these three very varied but equally inspiring writers.  Do check out their sites. 


Jane Kelleher is a mother, history teacher, amateur genealogist and yarn enthusiast.  Born in London she is now living in the Fens.  Her site is the Postans Family Tree Project | A voyage of family discovery. http://postansfamilyproject.wordpress.com/



Mary Ann Mhina is a writer and storyteller who recently published a collection of elder women's stories entitled Listening to our Grandmothers. With her friend Beverley she co-creates a regular story telling event in London called The Story Party. Mary Ann also teaches Nia, a sensory-based movement practice, and believes that this practice supports her to be a better writer. You can read about all this and more on her blog http://maryannmhina.co.uk/blog/


Sam Scott is a busy working mum to two beautiful girls - the inspiration behind her blog http://mookandlulusblog.com  Mookandlulus offers fresh ideas and tips on party styling, party food, and craft activities for children's parties. Sam tries out all the suggestions on her blog and captures the results with her photos. She lives in Devon.