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Author Archives: Sandra Schwab

Martin's Gate, sketch by Sandra Schwab

Martin’s Gate

This is going to be a super-short post because I need to dash off and be on my way to the Black Forest on a rather unexpected trip. Last week, the press office of my university was contacted by the BBC – do we have an expert on the Brothers Grimm willing to travel to Freiburg for an interview? Needs to speak English. The lovely people at our folklore department remembered me and forwarded me the e-mail, and now here I am, about to be … er … interviewed by the BBC. *gulp*

I’m going to leave you with a few impressions of Freiburg from my last visit. It’s such a beautiful town, with little open gutters (Bächle) running through the town center. The first were built in the Middle Ages to provide water for animals and for fire fighting. Other reminders of the medieval past can be found all over town: for example, there’s the Martin’s Gate, which used to be part of the old city wall and was first mentioned as Porta Sancti Martini in 1238.

Medieval minster, Freiburg, sketch by Sandra Schwab

The Medieval Minster

Then there’s the medieval minster, which dominates one of the central town squares. When I was last there, the very top was covered with green netting: the red sandstone is corroding fast, and so the upkeep of the church is a continuous process.

Waterspouts at the minster, sketch by Sandra Schwab

Gargoyle Waterspouts at the Minster

Something I’ve always loved about the minster is the multitude of gargoyle waterspouts that watch the going-ons in the square from high above. It’s a strange assembly of grotesque animals (some of them are actually quite cute!), devilish creatures, grinning skeletons, and strange human figures. I’m looking forward to seeing them all again! 🙂

And now I better hurry and get on the road. Please keep your fingers crossed for me!

Eating Ice Cream
My dear Cassandra,—I take the first sheet of fine striped paper to thank you for your letter from Weymouth, & express my hopes of your being at Ibthorp before this time. I expect to hear that you reached it yesterday Evening, being able to get as far as Blandford on wednesday.—Your account of Weymouth contains nothing which strikes me so forcibly as there being no Ice in the Town; for every other vexation I was in some measure prepared; & particularly for your disappointment in not seeing the Royal Family go on board on tuesday, having already heard from Mr Crawford that he had seen you in the very act of being too late. But for there being no Ice, what could prepare me?

(from Jane Austen’s letters, 14 September 1804)

 

As it’s so hot here that my brain is slowly melting (the majority of houses in this part of the world don’t have AC), I thought we could talk about desserts. Ice creams in particular. (And I certainly feel for poor Cassandra—no ice cream! Gah!) (Why is there no ice cream in my freezer?!!?!?)

Last November Myretta wrote a post about ice houses and how ice cream was made in the Regency period, while in a post in April Rose showed us an ice-pail, in which ice cream was brought to the table. (Wait, you don’t eat it straight out of the bowl? Because homemade ice cream is, like, the best thing in the world!)

When I looked up various ice cream recipes from the Regency period, I was quite surprised to see that a lot of recipes call for putting the cream with the sugar and/or jam/fruit puree directly into the freezing pot. In my experience, it’s easier to use a thick custard as the base for ice cream: it’s creamier from the get-go & thus freezes more easily (though admittedly, there’s always the danger that you end up eating the custard before you get around to making the ice cream…).

In The Complete Confectioner, Frederick Nutt describes the historical method of making ice cream: the freezing pot with the ice cream base is put into a pail packed with ice and salt and rotated until the base has frozen. Nutt also elaborates on the difficulties and pitfalls of making ice cream: “[D]o not be sparing of salt, for if you do not use enough it will not freeze” (from the 1807 edition, which you can find on Google Books). And there’s nothing more frustrating than when your ice cream won’t freeze!

I’ve long loved Nutt’s book, and the section on ice creams is particularly awesome. For not only does he suggest adding a little cochineal to give your ice cream a pretty color, but he also lists 32 (THIRTY-TWO!!!!) different recipes, with flavours ranging from raspberry ice cream to biscuit ice cream to Parmasan ice cream. That’s a man after my own heart!

In contrast to poor Cassandra in Weymouth in 1804, many of Jane Austen’s characters get to enjoy ice cream. In Northanger Abbey Maria Thorpe tells Catherine, the heroine, about an outing the day before:

“—that they had driven directly to the York Hotel, ate some soup, and bespoke an early dinner, walked down to the pump–room, tasted the water, and laid out some shillings in purses and spars; thence adjoined to eat ice at a pastry–cook’s, and hurrying back to the hotel, swallowed their dinner in haste, to prevent being in the dark; and then had a delightful drive back, only the moon was not up, and it rained a little, and Mr. Morland’s horse was so tired he could hardly get it along.”

A rather more exciting visit to a pastry cook’s can be found in The Beautiful Cassandra, one of Austen’s very early works:

“She then proceeded to a Pastry-cooks where she devoured six ices, refused to pay for them, knocked down the Pastry Cook and walked away.”

Tee-hee!

And now please excuse me while I go & rummage in the freezer in the hope of finding some hidden carton of ice cream.

I’m currently on vacation in Oxford (and I’m typing this on my phone so that should be… er… interesting. Now when you think of Oxford, there are of course the colleges…

Christ Church

Christ Church

…and Radcliffe Camera (part of the ginormous Bodleian Library)….

Radcliffe Camera

Radcliffe Camera

…and the Bridge of Sighs, which links the two halves of Hertford College.

The Bridge of Sighs

The Bridge of Sighs

But what I found most impressing are the grazing sites that have been in use for hundreds of years. There is Christ Church Meadow, which as the name suggests is part of the college grounds – and it’s also home to the college’s herd of longhorn cattle.

Christ Church Meadow with the college cattle

Christ Church Meadow with the college cattle

The view across the meadow with the college in the background

And then there’s Port Meadow, where I took a long, long, oh-gosh-my-feet-hurt walk today. It is mentioned as a piece of common land in the Domesday Book, a survey of English landholdings comissioned by William the Conqueror after the Norman Conquest in the eleventh century. And since then, Port Meadow has been in continuous use as grazing grounds.

Port Meadow

Port Meadow

Indeed, it was used as common grazing grounds ever since Alfred the Great granted all freemen of Oxford the right to use this piece of land as a reward for their bravery against the vikings. But even before that time, the land hadn’t been ploughed for thousands of years.

How intriuguing to imagine the seemingly endless stream of generation upon generation of cows that have grazed here!

 

The small village of Binsey to the west of Port Meadow

The small village of Binsey to the west of Port Meadow

The history of the English countryside is not necessarily something that features heavily in our books, so walking across Port Meadow today served as a nice reminder of the importance of that history and how it has helped to shape the country we all love so much!

 

a teaser picture for Sandra Schwab's new book, Eagle's Honor: Ravished

Hello Risky Readers, I’ve got so many exciting news for you this month! First of all, I’ll finally have a new book out: my second Roman romance will be ready for publication later this spring (I’m currently finishing up the revisions). Livia and Adelar’s story is set at the Germanic limes amidst heightening tensions along the borders of the Roman Empire.

I had a lot of fun with this story, not the least because it is set near where I live: I used the Saalburg, the reconstructed Roman fort I mentioned before, as the model for the fort commanded by my heroine’s uncle. I can tell you, it is most strange to stand onthe ramparts now and imagine that this was once the edge of an empire, the edge of what was regarded as the civilized world.

Roman cooking

And remember that Roman cooking class I mentioned last month? That was also a bit strange and highly instructive! It also taught me a few things about myself as an author: I have a tendency to go for the weird stuff — in terms of Roman food this would be the fried dormice (sprinkled with poppy seeds), the sow’s udder stuffed with giant African snails, and, well, you get the idea. But of course, such dishes were the extreme, and, as I found out during that cookery class, “normal” Roman food tastes surprisingly… eh… normal. It’s a bit sweeter than what we are used to today because the Romans added honey or mulsum (white wine with honey and spices) to basically EVERYthing. But everything we made in that class was delicious, from the dates filled with walnuts and wrapped in bacon to the pork goulash with dried apricots (and a bottle of mulsum) to the chicken with mulsum and coriander. Yum!

As you can see from the picture above, we ate from replicas of Samian ware (pretty Roman earthenware) and with replicas of Roman spoons (smaller and more shallow than our own spoons). All in all, it was a most delightful afternoon and evening! And all for research! Wheee!

And my last bit of news? Well, as some of you know, my contract as a university lecturer ran out in December and was not renewed. And my chances to find a new job at another university are basically nil, so I needed to rethink my life and career options. Indeed, this whole year will be about rebuilding my life. At the beginning of April I laid the foundation for my new career: I’m now officially freelancing as a translator and cover designer! It’s super-thrilling and super-exciting and super-scary, but I hope I’ll be able to build a much happier life for myself as Sandra Schwab, author, artist, and translator. 🙂

Samian ware bowl (picture by Mercato, from Wikipedia Commons)

Samian ware bowl (picture by Mercato, from Wikipedia Commons)

Hello, Risky Readers, there’s been a slight change of plans and today you get me again. And I’m also rather late with posting – sorry about that! (I also apologize for any typos in this post; it’s really late here in Germany and I’m so ready to head to bed….)

So I thought today I could talk a little about food because tomorrow I will go to that lovely reconstructed Roman fort near where I live and attend a Roman cookery workshop. It’s called “A Look into Apicius’ Pots” and includes not just a guided tour through the fort and museum, but also a hands-on experience of Roman cuisine: we will prepare a meal using Roman recipes (from Apicius’ cook book, I assume) and then we’ll eat said meal from replicas of posh Roman tableware (that would be Samian ware made in what today is southern France).

There might even be garum, that dreadful, shudder-inducing Roman fish sauce that was made by putting fish heads and fish innards into a vessel together with herbs and what not and then putting it out into the sun for a couple of weeks. The Romans poured that stuff basically over everything. Like ketchup.

It’s going to be an interesting afternoon!

Victorian Bakers, BBC

Victorian Bakers, BBC

In addition to doing some practical research on Roman cuisine, I also recently stumbled across a rather fantastic BBC documentary called “Victorian Bakers.” In this documentary a group of modern-day bakers all don Victorian clothing and learn how their 19th-century predecessors made bread.

Bread was incredibly important for 19th-century England, as it was the staple food for large parts of the population. In the Regency period, bread making hadn’t yet become industrialized. Bakers ran their business as they had done for decades: from a bakery in a village, often near – or indeed, even part of – a local mill. They also worked closely with brewers from whom they got the yeast. Compared with more modern forms of yeast (think of dry yeast out of a package), this particular yeast was a bit more temperamental. The dough had to be kneaded much longer and the proofing took much longer as well. On the other hand, bakers had to be careful not to overproof the dough as it was possible the yeast would go bad.

Once the oven was fired up, the bread was baked and then the baker’s boy would go from house to house in the village and deliver bread that had been pre-ordered. As most people didn’t have an oven to bake in at home, bakers also offered a service whereby villagers could come and have their things baked in the baker’s oven.

While in earlier centuries only the upper classes had been able to afford white bread, by the early 19th century white bread had become the standard in all households. The older forms of barley bread and rye bread were disdained by large parts of the population, even though there were several attempts by health reformers to make whole-wheat bread popular again. Thus, in the Mirror of Literature, Amusement and Instruction we can read in 1847:

Nothing is more false to suppose than what is called fine white bread is better than the bread made of good wheat, ground into flour without abstricating from it the digestive principle contained in what is termed the husk, or skin. Nothing is more wholesome or so easy of digestion as this natural pure bread, when made with wheat of proper quality; and though the color is more homely, still the taste is far superior to that of white bread.

What I found perhaps most surprising about that BBC documentary was the realization that 19th-centiry bread would have tasted much, much different from our bread, mainly they used a different kind of wheat as well as that different yeast. That’s something we don’t really think about very often, do we?

And now it’s over to you: What type of historical food would you love to try and recreate?