A Medieval Feast

We had an amazing day on Saturday, but, for my husband, the work of preparing our middle-class medieval feast began after work on Friday. The house smelled amazing, as Pat baked spinach tarts with mint and cheese, ans apple-and-cheese tarts. The wonderful aromas pervaded the house through the night, as the bread dough he left to rise overnight exuded the yeasty aroma of its leavening action.

Saturday morning, Pat was up before the bedroom was even light, baking the three loaves ofd bread. Because of their size and shape, they had to be baked one at a time, so he was still baking when I crept out of bed a couple of hours later. The house was filled with the steamy, yeasty smell of fresh bread.

A little after noon, Pat started making the pork pie and the "grave of small birds," which was a sort of chicken stew. He had cooked the pork the night before, while the tarts baked, so it was wonderfully tender -- he gave me a piece of the pork to sample. Yum!

Pat's mom arrived while the pie was baking. Sadly, Dad had a cold, and stayed at home, but we promised to send him a care package from the feast. Pat's sister arrived next, and she brought with her a set of delightful hand-blown glass wine goblets, with lightly fluted edges. Although I couldn't see the bubbles suspended in the glass, or its warm, amber coloring, my fingers saw how beautifully the goblets were shaped. She also brought a large pitcher, which had an angel worked into the handle; I could feel the delicately carved face and wings. To go with these treasures, she brought two bottles of Witch's Brew, a locally-produced sweet red wine, with added mulling spices; there was enough for two or three glasses apiece. Unfortunately, since her husband is horribly allergic to our cats, he also stayed home, and we promised him a care package, as well.

Pat had the honey butter made, and the pork pie out of the oven, when his cousins, Rob and Chris arrived, bringing with them fresh apple cider for the feast. With everyone gathered, the table was soon set -- including non-period forks! -- and Pat brought fort the meal.

Since it was a middle-class feast, and sumptuary laws applied, the meal was served all at once, not in separate removes. The food was amazing! Heather had also brought a pot of Brussels sprouts, apple, and onions, which was a wonderful accompaniment to the pie, tarts, and grave of small birds. The bread was sliced, and two loaves were joyfully consumed. There was food enough left to send home to Dad and Ken, but the food was enjoyed so well that not much else remained. The feast was seasoned with a great deal of loving family banter, teasing, and laughter. Wine was drunk -- and a bit spilled on the sprouts -- but all in moderation, along with much cider, and water. With only two bottles, no one had enough wine to detract from the happiness of the event.

After the meal, some rested in the large living room chairs, while others went outside for a constitutional. Afterward, we all laughed and talked together, until it was time to pack up the care packages, so Mom and Heather could begin their long drives home. Rob and Chris, who livce much closer, stayed several hours longer, and the four of us rarely stopped laughing, as Pat read from a list of role-playing-game-themed jokes, which were hilarious to us all.

I crept back into my bed after the cousins left. It had been an amazing day, filled with love and laughter, and my tummy was filled with the special flavors of another century, in another millenium, which my talented husband had prepared for our enjoyment.