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Baking the Original Apple Pie from Medieval England

Tasting History with Max Miller21:39

Transcription

We all know the American expression "as American as apple pie," but in reality, it should be as English as apple pie, because today I'm making the first recorded recipe for apple pie, which actually comes from 14th-century England. So, thank you to Factor for sponsoring this video, as we make a medieval apple pie this time on Tasting History. Today's recipe comes from my favorite historical cookbook, "The Forme of Cury," which means the proper method of cookery. And it comes from around 1390 and was compiled in England by the head cooks of King Richard II. So, since the recipes were written for the king, you can be sure that many of the ingredients are quite fancy and wouldn't have been things accessible to the majority of people at the time. Also, since it's written in royal kitchens, you can be sure that the instructions are somewhat vague, especially for "to make a tartys in applis: Take good applis and good spycis, dates, raysons, and peres, and when they are y-nowgh y-sode, y-nowgh y-colourd with safron, and do it in a coffyn and lat it wel bake." So, this recipe leaves a lot to interpretation. For one, it doesn't give you any quantities for any of the ingredients. It doesn't specify any of the spices other than saffron, and it just assumes that you know how to make a coffyn, a coffyn being a type of crust in which you would either cook food or simply store food. So, why is it so vague? Well, royal kitchens would have had dozens, if not hundreds, of cooks working at any given time. And only the master cook would have known all the ingredients for an entire meal. And they would often sit in the center of the kitchen, not to cook any food themselves, but rather to order those who were cooking. And sometimes, there would be a scribe nearby, jotting down some of what they said, and that's what "The Forme of Cury" is. So, it's kind of like writing a recipe through a game of telephone, where the person who's actually writing the recipe is probably not a cook at all and doesn't really know what they're doing. So, it just leaves a lot to interpretation, but the fun thing is, everyone who actually cooked these dishes is dead, and so there's no one around to tell you that you've actually done it wrong. So, for my interpretation of this type of apple tart, you're going to need 3 pounds or 1.3 kilograms of apples, a mix of sweet and tart. 1 pound or half a kilogram of pears, half a cup or 80 grams of raisins, and half a cup or 60 grams of chopped dried figs. Now, those last two ingredients would have been quite expensive at the time, as they would have been imported from either France or the surrounding Mediterranean, but it's the spices that are really going to make this dish have a price tag through the roof. Now, the last, the only spice that the recipe names is saffron, and it's the only spice that was grown in England at the time. And for this recipe, 8 to 10 threads, which are mixed with a little bit of water. Honestly, it doesn't have much of an impact on the color, and the flavor is minimal, so if you want, you can probably skip it. As for the other spices, you can't skip them, but we don't actually know what the spices are, but I'm guessing it's some sort of poudre douce or sweet powder, which was a common spice blend in the Middle Ages for things like this. Now, this spice blend would vary from kitchen to kitchen and cook to cook, but my version of poudre douce will be 2 tablespoons of sugar, 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of cinnamon, 1 teaspoon of ginger, 1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg, 1/8 teaspoon of cardamom, and 1/2 teaspoon of cloves. And yes, sugar was considered a spice. In fact, we don't just call it a spice because we use it in such large quantities. And if we called it a spice, then you'd have to consider a Snickers bar a spicy food, which, I guess, technically it is. So, start by mashing your apples and pears. Of course, you'll want to remove the core, but you really don't need to remove the peel, as it's going to cook down so much that it won't matter. Also, the peels will be barely recognizable once you mash them. The recipe uses the word y-braied, which essentially means ground. So, you can mash them in a mortar and pestle or in a bowl with the end of a rolling pin, like I did, or just throw them in a food processor. It all ends up as a fruit puree. To this puree, you'll add your raisins and chopped figs, as well as your saffron water. Stir it in. Then add your sugar and spice blend. Again, you can omit any of these spices or add others, like galangal or even black pepper, if you want. What spices you would have used would have been up to the cook at the time, and today, it's up to you. And after all, variety is the spice of life. That's why I really appreciate today's sponsor, Factor, for their variety of dishes. Who have recently doubled their menu size. Factor delivers chef-prepared meals right to your door, which you can enjoy in just minutes. For example, for lunch, I can heat up a delicious meal like sweet potato and sage chicken with honey roasted carrots and green beans. I've been eating Factor meals for well over a decade, long before I started Tasting History, because they're delicious and well-portioned, and portion control is always something I've struggled with, so Factor is a great solution for that. And I never get bored because they offer a rotating menu of over 80 meals per week with options for every diet, whether you're high protein, watching your calories, or trying to increase your fiber intake. And right now, you can get 50% off by following my link in the description or by going to factor75.com and using my code TASTINGHISTORYFB50, which is 50% off, plus you'll get a year of free breakfast. That's free breakfast for a year, 50% off when you use my TASTINGHISTORYFB50 code in the link in the description. And now let's get back to that pie. So, once the filling is ready, it's time to make the crust. And there are many ways to make a medieval crust. Some were meant to be eaten. They have egg and even sugar or saffron in them. And then some were just meant to be containers and were rarely eaten at all. Today, I'm going to use a crust that's kind of in the middle, a hot water crust pastry. It's very edible, but also really sturdy. So, we can get a nice self-contained pie. So, for that, you'll need 4 cups or 500 grams of flour, 1 teaspoon of salt, 1 cup or 235 milliliters of water, and 1 cup or 225 grams of suet or lard. So, first, heat the water on the stove, then add the fat and let it melt. You can also add the salt right now, but if you forget, like I did, then you can add it later. It's not a big deal. Once the fat has melted and cooked, pour it into the flour and start mixing it all up. That's where I remembered to add the salt. Eventually, it'll all come together and be cool enough that you can handle it with your hands. And you want to knead it for just a minute or so until it becomes nice and smooth. And then let it cool for just a few minutes until it's still warm, but cool enough that you can handle it. You don't want to let it cool too much, because it starts to get difficult to work with if you do. And you still want it warm when you divide it. You want one large piece, about 3/4 of the dough, and then a smaller piece, about 1/4 of the dough. Take the larger piece and press it into the pie dish. You can use a cake tin or a springform pan. Though the great thing about a hot water crust is that it's very forgiving. Unlike a regular pie crust, which is like a hot homemade flour, you can do nothing with it, or you'll ruin it, this is more like play-doh, and you can just mash it, shape it however you want. Luckily, if you have a crack, just take a little bit more and patch it up. Just don't let it cool too much, because as it cools, it becomes more and more prone to cracking. Then once you've made the main part of the coffyn, you can add your apple filling and enclose it. Then roll out the second smaller piece of dough and place it on top of the filling. Crimp it and fold over the edges to seal in the filling. Then cut a small hole in the top or poke it a few times so that the steam can escape. Then you can either bake it as is, or you can brush the top with a little bit of egg to give it a nice color. In medieval times, they would often even add saffron to make it more golden. Then put it in the oven to bake at 375°F, 190°C for 45 to 50 minutes, or until it's bubbling on top. Now, while we can recreate many aspects of this medieval pie, there are some things that we'll just never be able to. That is, the fruit that's inside. Around 800 AD, Emperor Charlemagne named a variety of apples that he wanted grown on his lands. "The names of the apples are gozmaringa, geroldinga, credella, spirauca, can sweet, bitter, good keepers, for eating straight away, and early ripening." Alas, while we know the names of these and other medieval apple varieties, many of them have either gone extinct or have changed so much that there's no basis to think that they're the same as what was originally used to make this pie. But it's clear from Charlemagne's list of apples that fruit was very common in medieval Europe. So, while our pie is baking, and you're making sure that you're subscribed to Tasting History, let's take a closer look at the medieval apple. During the time of the Roman Empire, apples were one of many fruits cultivated throughout Europe and Britain. But when the empire fell, so did the apple orchards. You see, apples are different from many fruits, if you take an apple seed and plant it, the resulting tree will probably not be the same as the apple that the seed came from. The size, the taste, the smell, the color, everything can be different from the original apple. So, to get a duplicate of that original apple, it had to be grafted onto an existing rootstock. This is something that requires patience and skill. And, at least, by some accounts, this patience and skill were not what the people who replaced the Roman legions had. In 6th-century Britain, for example, a monk or wise man named Gildas Sapiens wrote a treatise that translates to The Conquest and Destruction of Britain. And in it, he talks a little bit about the decline of Britain and how things around him were changing, and everything was falling apart, including the orchards, and he blames the immigrants. "The unrighteous Saxons, a hateful race both to God and man... Nothing ever has been so detrimental to our country, nothing so unfortunate..." he says, "These newcomers do not at all care about husbandry, so the crops of Britain have all gone to the pot, including the apple trees." Now, Gildas was a bit of a drama queen and probably overestimated the loss of all the apples in Britain at the time, because there's evidence in later centuries of wild apples in where he lived. But many of these apples were probably cultivated not by new Saxon farmers, but by monks like himself. Much of the agricultural knowledge known to the Romans survived thanks to the monasteries of Europe, as they were often committed to growing much, if not all, of their own food, so they never had to leave the walls of their monasteries. And when they founded new monasteries, they often took that knowledge with them, along with actual tree grafts, to spread different kinds of fruit throughout Europe. This led to a renewed expansion of different varieties of apples. And many of these apples remained within the confines of monasteries for a long time until around 800 AD, when the new emperor, Charlemagne, established the "Capitulare de villis," or the rule of land use, which dictated that the royal lands around cities were to be used to grow not only grain, but fruits. "As for trees, it is our wish that they have various kinds of apples, pears, plums, sorbs, medlars, chestnuts, and peaches..." Now, undoubtedly, the rise of these fruits and medieval horticulture in general cannot be attributed to this one act, but it was certainly influential, especially in France. And so, when the French, specifically the Normans, ended up invading England in 1066, it's believed that they brought a variety of apple types with them. There was the Pearmain, the Pippin, the Faarone, and the Reinette. Some of these names actually exist to this day, though it's unlikely that they are actually the same as their medieval ancestors. One of the most famous varieties at this time was the Poma Costard. It was mentioned in a fruit bill for King Edward I in 1292. And in 1296, one shilling could get you 100 Costard apples in the city of Oxford. And while that might sound like a surprisingly good deal, you have to remember that the average laborer at the time was earning just a little over a shilling a week. So, these were quite expensive apples. Now, these apples, the Costard, were so common, one of the reasons was that it was good not only for eating, but also for drinking, being turned into cider, which I'll get back to. As for eating, many medieval and Renaissance authors agreed that apples were good for you, though very often not in their raw state. Around 1500, it was written that a cook should "Beware of green salads and raw fruits, for they will make your sovereign sick." And so, cooking apples was the preferred way to eat them. Either in stewed apples, or baked, or in a pie, or roasted over a fire. They could also be dried and left in the sun. They would last much longer after apple season, though most people didn't prefer to eat them raw, there was a 12th-century medical text that said it was fine to eat them raw, if they were cooked, both the food and the beneficial physic prove that they are all very much so. Later, the botanist John Gerard confirmed this theory when he wrote, "They do not pass through the stomach easily and quickly, and therefore do loosen the belly, especially when they are taken before meat... Baked apples are always better than raw, whose hurt is recovered by fire and may be corrected by adding their seeds and spicy seasonings." They cook, so he also suggests taking boiled apples and mixing them with hog's grease and rose water, but rather to spread on your face if you have scars like that, he says it will remove the roughness of the skin, as well as for eating and drinking. It wasn't just delicious apples, but also the costard apple, which means green juice, essentially vinegar made from apples, though in medieval times it could also be used in medicine. "The bodies that are most likely to receive this plague are hot and moist, because they are most subject to putrefaction, it doesn't mean that you were hot or moist, but rather the theory that you had humoral imbalances within you." You could get rid of a venous imbalance, or it was much easier to balance it with something that had opposite properties, such as plague drunk rather than wine, or flour, because it was easy to make at home, collecting costard apples in September was traditional so that you could make cider. "Oxen and rams Sow your fields, repair your dams. Sell your wool to the weaver, harvest your fruit, press your grapes. Go and gather your costards for fear of the poor." I had to look up two words in there. The first was weaver, which, it turns out, is not only the name of one of my favorite shows growing up in the 80s, but was an old term for a spinner. And it makes sense why you'd give your wool to a spinner. The other word was wanton. Now, that can mean that you're kind of simple and all, but even then, it could refer to plain undyed wool, but that's not how it's used here. Here, it means an impure lewd woman, very often a prostitute. That's how Shakespeare usually uses the term, as in Macbeth when the witches' brew calls for "the liver of a child strangled from birth, passed by a drum." But why, oh why, would costard apples be fleeing this kind of misfortune? I'm not entirely sure, but I have a theory for postulation. If you do end up visiting one of these types of pigs, a prostitute, then John Gerard suggests that you might benefit from apples. Because "the pulp of roasted apples, mixed with water in a lather and drunk by the quart, is good for those with gonorrhea." Again, I'm not entirely sure that's the case, but it would make sense. So, if you ever find yourself in that unfortunate situation, may I suggest you make this 14th-century English apple tart? So, if you want, just before you bake the pie, if you use the outer collar of a springform pan, and brush a few eggs on the sides to give it an even color. Then bake it for another 5 minutes. Then take it out and let it cool completely before serving. And there we have it, a 14th-century apple tart recipe from the court of King Richard II. It held up so well. You know, the filling is really densely packed, but it doesn't spill out. It looks pretty good. So, let's talk about this crust. So, this was a coffyn. And sometimes they were meant to be eaten, and sometimes they weren't. This one wouldn't have been eaten. They didn't really use forks in England at this time. So, they would have used either a spoon or their hands. And so often the top would have been removed, and then the inside would have been more or less spooned out like a pudding, so I'll do that. Although I am going to try the inside. Obviously, it would have been the whole pie. Just take off the top. Here we go. [chomp] Hmm. Hmm. That's really good. It's not very sweet. There's very little sugar in this. So, you get all the sweetness of the apples, pears, and dried fruit. And then the spices are really strong, but really nice. Hmm. I mean, it has a lot of aspects of a modern apple pie, but it's also completely different. And I think whatever spices you use, it's really going to inform it. As I said, you could use pepper in this or something like that, which would be very, very different from a modern apple pie and would absolutely work. I also really like the texture. It's more like a sort of pudding, a compote. It's not very smooth, but it's smooth enough. There are still pieces of fig and raisin. It was really good. As for the crust, the pastry is a little crumbly. So, the hot water crust pastry is definitely sturdier. It's not going to be like, you know, a regular pie crust that's flaky. The flavor is really good. It's the flavor of lard. So, you know, it's savory. If you use suet, that works too. You can add sugar if you want. You don't have to, but really, as is, it works really well. So, today, hot water crust pastry is typically reserved for savory pies, like a pork pie or something like that, but it can be used for anything, and it just makes for a good keeper. And that's what a coffyn would have been at this time. Anyway, delicious. You have to make this. This is the apple pie to try this fall. And let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time on Tasting History.