Literary Eats: Pastry with Quince and Dates from Romeo and Juliet

My first brush with the Bard came during ninth grade English class, where Romeo and Juliet was the lone bright spot in a seemingly endless year that revolved around mind numbingly boring lessons on grammar recited in my teacher’s comically monotone voice. (Think Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off). If there was ever a class that sucked the life out of English, it was this one. Therefore, when we started reading the play, I was so starved for something even resembling literature that I devoured it.  Later, when I began working on my book project, I immediately thought of this play.

The prospect of researching food from this era was daunting in and of itself. My own working knowledge of English Renaissance fare was limited at best and mostly relied on images of an enormous King Henry VII gnawing on a turkey leg while seated at a banquet table overflowing with similar roast fowl. In fact, a variety of meats, fish, fowl, fruits, and vegetables were available, though the era’s taste in seasonings may seem rather heavy and sweet for today’s palate. The medieval Crusaders had brought back different spices from the Middle East, which were then incorporated into European cooking. Spices were considered valuable and a sign of wealth, so many recipes often included some combination of cloves, cinnamon, mace, nutmeg, and ginger even in roast meat dishes. 

In Shakespeare’s day imported sugar became a popular ingredient as well, though it was out of reach for all but the very wealthy—which led to the resulting blackened teeth becoming another status symbol. Wine or ale was the standard beverage for all since water wasn’t safe to drink. Of course, the richer you were, the better you ate and the wealthy Capulets and Montegues certainly occupied the highest level of Verona’s society.

When I went back to the original text, I didn’t find much to work with. Shakespeare may have provided us with some of the greatest lines in the English language, but he didn’t get too caught up on describing table settings.  The lovers themselves don’t really mention food. Most of their lines are devoted to talking about how much they love each other and how they hate their families (otherwise known as standard teenager talk). But, luckily, Juliet’s clueless parents are preparing a feast for her wedding to Paris. Let’s take a look:

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and NURSE

LADY CAPULET
Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.

NURSE
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

Enter CAPULET
Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crow’d

The curfew-bell hath rung, ‘tis three o’clock:

Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:

Spare not for the cost.

NURSE

Go, you cot-quean, go,
Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow
For this night's watching.

CAPULET
No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now
All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.

Aside from learning that The Nurse’s name is Angelica and that Capulet can still party with the best of them, we learn of a pastry that needs dates and quinces. Of course, since this is Shakespeare there is symbolism in nearly everything, but especially something like Paris and Juliet’s wedding cake.  Traditionally, quinces were a symbol of love and fertility and were quite popular during Shakespeare’s day, so their place in the pastry for Juliet and Paris’ wedding feast is obvious.  However, it’s going to take a lot more than fruit to make that union work. At the end of the scene Capulet sends the Nurse to waken Juliet, but little do they know, Juliet has already ingested the elixir that gives her the appearance of death, thus setting in motion a tragic series of events.

 In the 16th Century there were several popular ways to prepare quinces: preserved, made into marmalade, boiled in wine, or made into a paste. A Book of Cookrye: Very necessary for all such as delight therin  gathered by A.W. and published in London in 1596 offers several different quince recipes:

 

 Tarte of Quinces with covers.

When your Quinces be very tender and colde, mince with two or three Warden amongst them and season them with sugar, sinamon and ginger, and so the paste being very fine, lay a cover upon them.

Tartes of Quinces without covers.

Straine your Quinces with some wine, when they be boiled tender, and an apple with them, or two or three Wardens, straine them and season them with Sugar, Sinamon and Ginger, and so make tarte without a cover.

How to bake Quinces.

Take half a pound of Sugar, and a dozen of Quinces and pare them, take half an ounce of Sinamon and Ginger, take fine flower, sweet butter, and Egges, and make your paste, then put in all your stuffe and close it up.

The references to ‘ paste’ in these recipes means pastry crust. Apparently adding a recipe for said ‘paste’ was redundant, or one of those ‘assumed’ things that ‘everyone’ should already know—unless you’re from the 21^st century, duh!-- and thus, goes unmentioned.

However, Francine Segan’s delightful cookbook Shakespeare’s Table she has a great updated recipe for what she calls Renaissance Dough that can be used for puffe-paste:

2 cups sifted loosely-packed pastry flour (8 oz)

½ tsp salt

1 large egg, beaten, cold

½ C butter, cut into small cubes, cold

½ ice-cold water

Mix the flour, water, the salt, and egg together on a cold surface until crumbly. Flatten the dough with a rolling pin and place one quarter of the butter cubes on the dough. (Keep the remaining butter refrigerated until ready to use.) Roll the butter into the dough, fold the dough over, and roll again. Repeat the process 3 more times until all the butter is incorporated. Cover the dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least an hour.

I decided to make an amalgamation of the recipes and use the Renaissance dough for the crust.

Quinces look like a cross between an apple and a pear and are considerably fragrant. Once quite popular, they aren’t commercially grown and thus can be hard to find. I was lucky enough to find some at Belltown Orchard in South Glastonbury, CT, but grocery stores sometimes stock quince when in season, usually from October til December, and at a high mark up. Most recipes call for them to be poached or baked, since quince are too tart to eat raw, and this is no exception. When cooked, quince can take on a lovely rosy color due to a high level of tannins. 

A word of caution: be careful when coring your quince, as they are quite hard. I escaped without any cuts, but I definitely had to use some muscle just to get through the fruit. A small melon baller would work wonders. At first, this recipe’s ingredients and preparation reminded me of a traditional apple pie, but the delicate, almost floral taste of the ruby-colored quince and the accompanying sweetness of the dates makes for a decidedly different take on that most ‘American’ of desserts.

  

Pastry with Dates and Quince

Make Renaissance Dough according to above instructions.

After refrigerating, roll out dough and press into a pie pan or tart shell.

I found that it was essential to keep the dough as cold as possible because otherwise it took on a chewy texture the day after baking.

For Filling:

4 medium quinces
½ C white Italian dessert wine, such as Muscat

½ C water
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon cloves

¼ tspn rosewater

½ C chopped dates

Peel quinces and cut in half. Remove cores. Fill saucepan with wine, water, rosewater,  and set to boil. Add quinces and cloves and simmer for about an hour or until soft. Check by sticking a knife through the quince. If it goes through easily, it’s done. If not, keep simmering. Depending on the size of your quince, it can take up to two or three hours, so be patient.

Drain quince and mix in dates, sugar, spices, and rosewater. Transfer mixture to pie shell and cover with vented top crust.

Bake at 350 for about an hour. Cool and serve.



Pyrex Glass Pie Plate, 9" (Google Affiliate Ad) 

Rookie Mistakes and Persimmon Cake

I don't know what my problem was yesterday. Perhaps it was post-Thanksgiving deluge, but I made a bunch of silly mistakes while trying to make this lovely Fuyu persimmon bundt cake via The Food Librarian.

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I tried my very first persimmon recently. Turns out it was a hachiya persimmon, which is apparently disgusting when eaten unripe. One must wait until they are very soft and the skin starts to pucker to get the best results.

However, fuyus can be eaten while hard like an apple or soft. And, hence the name, are a necessary ingredient in a FUYU persimmon bundt cake. Well, I got my persimmons mixed up when I was at the grocery store on Saturday and purchased some hachiyas. I was literally buttering my bundt pan when I re-read the recipe and realized my error. So, off to the store I went. How can you tell the difference? First, you can read the labels. Second, you can look at the shape:

A hachiya is shaped more like an acorn

...while a fuyu is flatter and resembles an orange tomato.

After I got my persimmons straightened out, I managed to screw up a few more times: my butter wasn't soft enough. Then I added the eggs too soon. (Had to start again). I almost forgot to sift all the dry ingredients together, etc, etc. By the time I was done the kitchen was a total mess and I needed a drink. 

Somehow, despite everything, the cake came out beautifully:

 It makes quite a nice breakfast cake as well. 

Now, as for those hachiyas currently residing on my windowsill, well, I'll just have to wait until they're ripe.

Decorating, Saver's Style Part Two

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and what am I doing? Why, hanging up photos of course! Luckily my aunts still host family gatherings every year, and even though my cousin Katie has been talking about it for the last decade, our take over of family holidays is still far off. So, I get to bum around and do things I don't normally have time for, like decorating! 

First up: The photo wall.

Ever since I moved in I've wanted to replace James' framed poster of Iron Maiden's Number of The Beast album cover with a wall  of photos and I've finally made that a reality. I liked the idea of mixing up different sized frames with a variety of photos. I'm proud to say that every frame on this wall was less than $3 and I took most of the photos myself. Thank you, Savers. 

 Here's a closer look: 

  

Clockwise from the top left: Stepping Stone Beach in San Diego, CA, my mother at age 5, Cedar Hill Cemetery, Hartford, CT, Postcard from The Folger Shakespeare Library, James as a member of his friend Victor's wedding, and the two of us in 2009. 

                                                          

Lastly, I managed to indulge in my rampant Anglophilia a bit by wedging this poster in between one of James' many tributes to the Sox. I feel like Keep Calm and Carry On is also a good life mantra.

I forgot how much I love decorating. I should probably try to do it more than once every three months.

Apple Brownies For James

Usually when James asks me to make him food it's something ridiculous that he just made up, like pizza burgers or hot dog soup. So when he asked me to make him apple brownies, I didn't take him seriously. Turns out it's a real thing. Being the good domestic partner that I am, I made him a batch yesterday.

I used Cortland apples, though any kind you prefer will do. Unless it's red delicious, because those are just gross.

                 

I may have gone a little overboard with the apples  (look at the size of that sack!) Really, three would be plenty.

                                

I substituted half agave nectar, half evaporated cane juice for the sugar and found the batter to be quite gluey. I was a little worried that I had messed up the whole thing...

But they came out beautifully and won't spike our blood sugar levels. Hooray!

Writers' Rules

In my composition class I try to use exercises or activities that professional writers use to help them get words on the page. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

This is from a series in The Guardian inspired by Elmore Leonard's book Ten Rules of Writing. All of the writers featured give great style and content advice, but I found Richard Ford's to be more like "life rules":

Richard Ford

1 Marry somebody you love and who thinks you being a writer's a good idea.
2 Don't have children.
3 Don't read your reviews.
4 Don't write reviews. (Your judgment's always tainted.)
5 Don't have arguments with your wife in the morning, or late at night.
6 Don't drink and write at the same time.
7 Don't write letters to the editor. (No one cares.)
8 Don't wish ill on your colleagues.
9 Try to think of others' good luck as encouragement to yourself.
10 Don't take any shit if you can ­possibly help it.

Regardless of whether or not you're a writer, I think everyone could benefit from #10.

 

Occupy New York

I spent the long weekend in New York visiting my friend Elizabeth. Here's some things we did and ate:

Enjoyed classic and potent $5 cocktails at The Astor Room in Astoria

 Took in the sights and sounds of Occupy Wall Street....

                      Ate some Brooklyn Sushi at Samurai

          Ordered a Midnight Salad Nicoise from Brick Cafe in Queens.

   

Browsed through Beacon's Closet, an awesome spot for thrift and vintage.

                      Brunched at Trix with James in Williamsburg.

                                    Fancy steak and eggs for him...

                                     And a fruit plate for me.

      Got my foodie on at Milk Bar, part of the Momofuku empire.

And ended the weekend in the best way possible: at home on the couch with a slice of Crack Pie.

Leftovers: Fall Cold Edition

Here's what's been going on during my periods of Nyquil-induced consciousness:

School starts again tomorrow (thank GOD) and then I'm off to NYC on Friday for a weekend of fun with my bbfl Elizabeth and James, who will make his triumphant return to the city that never sleeps. 

I bought and ate my first persimmon this week. They're in season, fyi:

"The French treat the persimmon as a delicacy, eating it a la cuillere, or with a spoon, to scrape up the sensuous nectar. But eating a persimmon takes good timing and an eye for ripeness."~Amanda Hesse The Cook and The Gardener.

I'm also attempting to make the longer version of no knead bread. Cross your fingers.

                                  Shhh...the dough is sleeping

I made some pretty delicious chicken noodle soup before I got too sick and added fresh lemon juice. It was Alton Brown's idea. 

Ok. Time for tea and a movie.

What I Did (And Made) While The Power Was Out

If you don't live in Connecticut, you've probably heard about unseasonal winter storm Alfred that led to some massive power outages across the state this week. If you are from CT, I sincerely hope you have your power back and are enjoying this post from the comfort of your home instead of an overcrowded Panera Bread. I was one of the lucky and very few that only lost power for about a day. Our cable and internet was out for about four days though and classes were cancelled all week. This resulted in me having a lot of downtime with very few distractions. So, what did I do? Take a look:

I started off the week with some creative bread-baking. I had a couple pippens left from my excursion to the orchard last week that needed to be turned into something delicious fast. I made a bastardized version of the bastardized baguette, an Apple-Walnut Batard, from Amanda Hesser's lovely book The Cook and The Gardener using a box of Hudson Mills multi-grain bread mix. It came out pretty good, though a bit dense for my tastes, but it makes a great breakfast bread.

Then I tackled those quinces I bought for a Renaissance-style Quince and Date Tart (post to follow.)

After a hard day of baking (really!) I went out for Halloween. Yes it was a Monday, but everyone was depressed because no one had power or work.  I was Norma Desmond and James was a vampire--I mean, a greaser.

Day 2 saw me tackle homemade pasta via the instructions on the bag of Bob's Red Mill semolina flour. Time consuming, but tasty. I made some rather wide noodles and tossed them with goat cheese and peas.

By Day 3 James' family's restaurant had internet back, so I spent some time there taking up a booth and checking my e-mail. And maybe being generally obnoxious. However, if you ever make it to Townline, definitely as for the mustache pizza.

Then I went home and made some quince butter.

Which went great with the Faster No-Knead Bread I made last night! Seriously, you have to try this recipe. You'll never buy bread again.

In addition to adding a few more culinary skills to my burgeoning repertoire, not having cable/internet/etc for a few days made me realize how much time I spend bumming around on the internet, as well as how stressed out it makes me. If Facebook was the problem, that would be one thing, but my problem is that I'm a bit (ok, a major) info junkie. It's easy for me to fall down a rabbit hole of mostly useless information when I could be spending that time making my own pasta. New resolution: spend less time on the internet starting.....now!