Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Early 14th Century Food and Drink.by Rosemary Morris


http://bookswelove.net/authors/morris-rosemary-romance-historical-uk/



About Rosemary Morrie

I write historical romance rich in facts with themes that the modern-day reader can identify with. Two of the themes in Yvonne Lady of Cassio, are incompatible husbands and wives and that of an unwanted daughter.
Recently, I converted the smallest bedroom in my house into an office. The walls painted in the colour of pale honey, a predominantly red oriental rug on the honey-coloured laminate floor, an 8ft wide 6ft high waxed oak bookcase and a commodious matching desk, make it is a pleasure to write. Previously, I kept my large collection of non-fiction books and magazines throughout the house. Now they are all arranged in one place according to subject.
Whenever I pause to consider what to write next, I look out over my organic garden in which I grow herbs, fruit, vegetables and ornamentals. Beyond it is a communal green backed by woodland.
Time spent with my family and friends is important and I enjoy cooking vegetarian meals for them.

Early 14th Century Food and Drink.

A friend is reading my new novel Thursday’s Child, Heroines Born on Different Days of the Week, Book 5, set in the Regency era prior to publication in July. The mention of parmesan ice cream served at the famous confectioners, Gunters caused her to query the import of the cheese, not the type of ice cream, which could not have been more unusual to the taste buds than my experiment, avocado, chocolate, black pepper ice cream. Her question gave me the idea for this, the first of three articles about food and drink in the eras in which I have set my novels
Yvonne, Lady of Cassio takes place during the reign of Edward II, King of England, from 1307 until he was deposed in 1327. At that time, bread was everyone’s staple food but only the wealthy could afford the best quality white bread made from wheat. Breadcrumbs were used to thicken sauces and to stiffen custards. Gingerbread was made from a mixture of spiced breadcrumbs and honey. Cakes and buns were made from sweetened, spiced bread dough.
Fish was an important part of the diet. It was forbidden by the Roman Catholic Church to eat meat, eggs and dairy food on Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and during Lent. Most people ate pickled or salted herrings. A popular garnish was fried parsley, and to make salt fish more palatable herb and spice sauces were served with it,
Only aristocrats who hunted the wild bull, boar and deer and could afford to eat every type of meat, and fowl which included doves kept in cotes and pheasant and partridge. At banquets, either peacocks or swans were dressed in their feathers, and served as a centrepiece. Every type of small bird was also served, sometimes as many as thirty dishes on special occasions.
Cows, ewes and nanny goats were milked. Cream, curds and soft cheese were made in nobles’ kitchens. Possets, caudles, cream soups and custards were made from milk and cream and cream cheese was used to make cheesecake, similar to the delicious ones my daughter-in-law serves.
Everyone ate pottage, either thick or liquid, made with ingredients the household could afford, meat, fresh vegetables and herbs, and root vegetables. It could be thick or the consistency of broth and made without meat.
Flowers such as borage, which I add to salads or freeze in ice cubes to make a decorative addition to summer drinks, primroses and violets were used in salads, to which pickled fruit and roots were often added.
People were suspicious of raw fruit, which they believed caused fever and diarrhoea, but they ate raw cherries, grapes, plums and damsons. Wardens, hard pears, and apples were usually cooked.
However, people were no more dependent on home grown food than I am on the herbs, fruit and vegetables gown in my organic garden, although they did not have as wide a choice of imported food, herbs and spices as I do.
Fresh lemons and Seville oranges were imported, so were sweet lemon pickles. Only the rich could afford to buy imports of currants, dates, figs, prunes and raisins which their food was filled with. The most luxurious foreign commodity were almonds, pounded to be used as a thickening agent, or diluted to make almond milk as a substitute for cow’s milk, which is now available from supermarkets.
Sugar, first tasted by the Crusaders, was so rare and expensive that it was treated as a spice and kept under lock and key – although I did allow the wise woman, Gytha, in Yvonne, Lady of Cassio, to use some to prepare the candied flowers she sold. And, it is worth noting that by this period rice was served by the wealthy.
Spices were important because they masked the taste of food past its best and added flavour to salted and dried foods eaten in winter. Mustard and saffron was grown locally. Pepper was imported in vast amounts and used by everyone, but they could not afford the cost of cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg and mace, as well as spices uncommon today such as galingale, grains of paradise and cubebs.

Pottage
1 1/2 pints vegetable stock.
3 medium sliced leeks.
4 sliced celery sticks.
¼ shredded white cabbage.
2 sliced turnips.
2 sliced large carrots.
4 ounces white breadcrumbs.
A few strands of saffron.
Salt and ground black pepper to taste.

Bring the soup stock to the boil. Add the vegetables and simmer until the vegetables are soft. Stir in the breadcrumbs, saffron, salt and pepper. Bring back to the boil and cook for 2 or 3 minutes.

Abbreviated Extract from Yvonne Lady of Cassio

1314

   “The north wind hurled snow across the undulating downs, over the river and across the moat covered with opaque ice thick enough to walk on. In Cassio Castle log fires roared up the chimneys Simon of Cassio had been so proud of. Those enjoying the New Year feast at midday on the twenty-fourth of March were glad of the warmth.
   Nicholas sipped some clarry. The spiced wine, sweetened with honey, slid down his throat. Delicious!”
   “Sir Nicholas, you should be cheerful at table. Why do you sigh so sorrowfully?” asked Margaret Beaumont, the fair-haired lady seated next to him.
   “Please pardon my discourtesy.”
   “What troubles you?” Margaret asked.
   “Nothing, my lady.” Nicholas looked at their shared platter of chicken, stewed with dried herbs, white wine and onions. He must be courteous. “May I put some rice on your trencher? It is a rarity and looks tasty.”
   “Yes, it does, I think it is boiled with saffron and almonds. I would like some. Now tell me if you are glum because of the king’s writ?”
   She referred to the command for the magnates and their armed contingents to muster at Berwick on the tenth day of June.
   “No, I am not,” he replied. For certes he looked forward to training new men-arms in his father’s contingent after his return home in a few days. He resisted the temptation to speak of war, which might either bore her or alarm her. “Would you like some brewet?”
   No thank you, I can’t stomach it.”
   Nicholas sniffed the delicious aroma. “This is one of my favourite dishes.” His mouth watered as he ladled a portion of the brewet, with a consistency between meat and onion stew and soup, seasoned with salt, pepper, parsley and saffron, onto his side of the trencher.”

“At the high table. Yvonne accepted a piece of marchpane, part of a subtlety in the shape of Cassio Castle made to grace the feast.”

Novels by Rosemary Morris

Early 18th Century novels
Tangled Love, Far Beyond Rubies, The Captain and The Countess

Regency Novels
False Pretences, Sunday’s Child, Monday’s Child, Tuesday’s Child, Wednesday’s Child, Thursday’s Child – to be published in July 2018

Mediaeval Novel
Yvonne Lady of Cassio. The Lovages of Cassio Book One






Monday, June 4, 2018

The Differences of Research data: Mata Hari by Katherine Pym

 



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mata Hari clothed

This was a fairly popular post a few years ago so I thought I'd share it again. As an author of historical fiction, I spend a lot of time researching. Usually, my research centers on London in the 1660’s. Once and awhile, though, I run across some information that doesn’t center around my time of expertise, but find it too interesting not to share.

NOTE: The source I am using differs from most, especially Margaretha’s early life but it is too interesting to ignore. I will let you decide which to take home to your family by making clear the variances in the below text.

Mata Hari was born on August 7, 1876 as Margaretha Geetruida Zelle in Holland. Her parents were religious; she grew up Roman Catholic and was sent to a convent at the early age of 14. 

Other sources say:


Her mother dead and her adored father bankrupt, teenaged Margaretha was sent to train as a kindergarten teacher, only to be seduced by the headmaster.” And another source: “Following her mother's death, Mata Hari and her three brothers were split up and sent to live with various relatives.”

At 18 while on holiday in The Hague, Margaretha met a Scotsman named MacLeod and married him. He was a drunk and wife abuser. He did, well you know, the typical things brutal men do to women so I won’t bore you with them. Other sources say: “Disgraced and bored, the girl answered a newspaper ad to meet and marry a career colonial officer twenty years her senior who would be soon returning to the Dutch East Indies.” My source continues: He took her to Java where he continued his savagery plus he was a bounder and unfaithful.

No longer a wide-eyed, postulant schoolgirl, the experience caused Margaretha to deviate from her chaste background. She studied books in the art of sensual love performed in Buddhist temples. She was also introduced to the evocative ritual dances that eventually made her so popular. (Some sources don’t mention this at all.)

Usually, life takes strange turns we never expect. Margaretha endured the savagery of MacLeod, studied sensual love—it’s not recorded if she used this on him or anyone else for that matter while in Java—as her husband gadded about with other women. Some were jealous he was married. One was their nurse who took care of Margaretha & MacLeod’s young son. MacLeod rejected her and in revenge the nurse poisoned their son. Another source: “The marriage dissolved in a nightmare of drinking, gambling, and vicious hatred following the death of their son...”

From now on, I will continue with my source.

Margaretha emerged from this a changed woman. She never showed outward emotion but went forth in life with a face etched in steel. She hated men and she hated MacLeod whom she blamed for the death of their son. Without remorse she reportedly strangled the nurse.

Back in Europe, Margaretha lead a life of the narcissistic.

In France, Margaretha became Mata Hari, a woman born in “...India within the sacred caste of Brahma”. After the birth of two children, her body wasn’t the svelte one of her youth, but that did not stop her from performing naked on stage in Paris. She spoke in a soft, seductive voice and danced erotic dances, some graceful, others lewd, only before seen in Buddhist temples. 
Full Figured Mata Hari
She was a sensation throughout Europe. Men begged to have her in their beds. She would oblige them for no less than $7,500 a night. Her lovers listed in the Who’s Who of the times; prime ministers, princes, high up men in their governments.  She demanded luxurious apartments in Paris, had milk baths to keep her skin young and supple. When her influential lovers lost their money, she would kick them to the curb and take another.

She enjoyed sex and would visit brothels (probably not for $7,500) even as she hated the men who bedded her, using them for her gain. She was vain, self-indulgent, cruel and ripe to be approached by the Germans. They sent her to spy-school in Lorrach and gave her what is now known as a pre-war code number.

Mata Hari was relentless. She slept with men then betrayed them. She learned of their plans and sent those plans to the Germans. The figures speak for themselves. It was declared by the judge at her trial she was considered responsible for the deaths of 50,000 allied troops but this number seems trivialized. Other sources say the number is closer to 100,000.

In the end, the Germans betrayed Mata Hari, but she did not think she would die. Too many of her lovers told her of their plans for her escape. When those failed, it was suggested she plea pregnancy, but by now realizing her doom was fixed, Mata Hari refused to see the doctor. 

Mata Hari before the firing squad (one source)
Vincennes: At the age of 41, Mata Hari was taken to a young tree stripped naked of limbs and leaves and tied to it with a red ropes. She refused the blindfold, did not wince or show emotion when the firing squad cocked their rifles. Several of her lovers watched from the sidelines, some perhaps part of the squad.

She did not utter a sound, but smiled when the major barked the final command to fire. Mata Hari, once a postulant in a convent, her name Margaretha Geetruida Zelle died at 5:47 AM on October 15, 1917, a hated and loved legend of her time.

Many thanks to:
Main source: The People’s Almanac by David Wallechinsky & Irving Wallace, Doubleday & Co., Inc., Garden City, NY, 1975.

All pictures come from WikiCommons Public Domain: his media file is in the public domain in the United States. This applies to U.S. works where the copyright has expired, often because its first publication occurred prior to January 1, 1923. See this page for further explanation.





Saturday, June 2, 2018

Can too much research kill a story? by J. S. Marlo


I started writing a new series Unraveling the Past, and as the name suggests, it takes place in the past. The first book of the series Misguided Honor takes place in Nova Scotia in 1941. It’s the first time I write an historical novel...or a ghost.
When I lived in Nova Scotia decades ago, I heard the legend of a ghost haunting a special building. Back then the legend fascinated me, so I thought one day I’ll write a story around it. Well, that day has finally come.
Before I begin writing, I searched for the origin of that legend. Well, not only didn’t I find any reference to it, but the facts I gleaned about the building differ substantially from the legend. To my great disappointment, I was forced to admit to myself that there might not be much truth behind that legend and that reality check made me pause.
The story I had in mind no longer held any grip with history, so where do I go from there? Do I still use the real building in the real town in Nova Scotia or do I create a fictional town? While the later gives me more artistic freedom, it also changes the impact of the story as this little town in Nova Scotia is full of history, just not the history I was hoping to delve into.
I wrote the first chapter last week then life happened and I had to take a few days off. I opted for the real town, but I’m not convinced yet it was the right choice. Once I reread it, I’ll decide if I like the feel of it, but regardless of my decision, I will write that story. The research, though contradicting, didn’t kill my story, but it made me rethink it.
Misguided Honor might not turn out exactly how I had planned, but in the end, I like to believe it will make it that much better. Still, I can see how research can send a muse for a spin, making her dizzy and confused.
I hope my muse will eventually forgive me.
JS


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