Straha
Banned
From the Birth of the Modern Diet, by Rachel Laudan, Scientific American, August 2000:
http://216.239.51.100/search?q=cache:1tqEiIAPhXsC:www.artshum.org/Birth%20of%20the 2520Modern%2520Diet.pdf+%22birth+of+the+modern+diet%22&hl=en&ie=UTF-8
"Were we to attend a 16th-century court banquet in France or England, the food would seem strange indeed to anyone accustomed to traditional Western cooking. Dishes might include blancmange - a thick puree of rice and chicken moistened with milk from ground almonds, then sprinkled with sugar and fried pork fat. Roast suckling pig might be accompanied by a camaline sauce, a side dish made of sour grape juice thickened with bread crumbs, ground raisins and crushed almonds, and spiced with cinnamon and cloves…. And to wash it all down, we would probably drink hypocras, a mulled red wine seasoned with ground ginger, cinnamon, cloves and sugar.
Fast-forward 100 years, though, and the food would be reassuringly familiar. On the table might be beef bouillon, oysters, anchovies and a roast turkey with gravy. These dishes might be served alongside mushrooms cooked in cream and parsley, a green salad with a dressing of oil and vinegar, fresh pears, lemon sherbet, and sparkling white wine. Before 1650, the elite classes throughout the Islamic and Christian worlds from Delhi to London shared pretty much the same diet: thick purees, lots of spices, sweet and sour sauces, cooked vegetables, and warmed wines. Sugar was ubiquitous as seasoning in savory dishes. But in the middle of the 17th century, the northern European diet began to change. This new regimen relied on fewer spices, based its sauces on fats such as butter and olive oil, and incorporated raw fruits and vegetables. Sugar appeared only at the end of meal."
The author goes on to explain how in the early medieval period, digestion was considered a form of 'cooking', and how a balanced diet of blended foods worked to maintain the equilibrium of the body's 'humors'. Blancmange - a combination of mildly warm moist chicken, rice, and almonds - along with camaline - cool moist vinegar with warm raisins and hot dry spices - were the perfect foods. By the 16th century and later, chemists and physicians came to different conclusions about the process of digestion. Digestion was now considered a form of fermentation rather than cooking. Fermentation included gentle heat and the production of vapors somewhat similar to putrefaction, distillation, and interactions of acids and salts. Thus, separation of foods to be served so as to allow the stomach to 'ferment' the food became desirable.
But if the idea of 'putrefaction/fermentation' in the stomach never caught on? Would our main entrees predominantly consist of stews, soups, sauces, purees, and porridge? And what if foods were designed for our various temperaments?
[Some recipes or menu items for thought:
- For the man of a sanguine and prideful temperament:
Piscuris
Finely flaked cooked fish stirred in a tomato puree, with finely chopped carrots and potatoes. Chilled wine and essence of shellfish stirred in for flavor. Topped with leafy basil.
Crocus risotto
Boil the rice in a small pot until finely cooked, and remove the paper which forms on the edge. Take bananas and melons kept cool, and finely mash into the rice paste. Roll into balls, and sprinkle a little sugar.
- For the man of a melancholic and mournful nature:
Vegetable Beef Stew
Shredded beef in a potato bisque with finely chopped onions, carrots and celery. Salted through burgundy wine. Topped with crushed garlic and spices.
Apple Jelly
Boiled and strained apples drenched in almond milk and honey, covered with grated bread, saffron, and a little salt. Mixed together in a gelatin base.
- For the man of mean and miserly ways:
Cold porridge and stale bread]
http://216.239.51.100/search?q=cache:1tqEiIAPhXsC:www.artshum.org/Birth%20of%20the 2520Modern%2520Diet.pdf+%22birth+of+the+modern+diet%22&hl=en&ie=UTF-8
"Were we to attend a 16th-century court banquet in France or England, the food would seem strange indeed to anyone accustomed to traditional Western cooking. Dishes might include blancmange - a thick puree of rice and chicken moistened with milk from ground almonds, then sprinkled with sugar and fried pork fat. Roast suckling pig might be accompanied by a camaline sauce, a side dish made of sour grape juice thickened with bread crumbs, ground raisins and crushed almonds, and spiced with cinnamon and cloves…. And to wash it all down, we would probably drink hypocras, a mulled red wine seasoned with ground ginger, cinnamon, cloves and sugar.
Fast-forward 100 years, though, and the food would be reassuringly familiar. On the table might be beef bouillon, oysters, anchovies and a roast turkey with gravy. These dishes might be served alongside mushrooms cooked in cream and parsley, a green salad with a dressing of oil and vinegar, fresh pears, lemon sherbet, and sparkling white wine. Before 1650, the elite classes throughout the Islamic and Christian worlds from Delhi to London shared pretty much the same diet: thick purees, lots of spices, sweet and sour sauces, cooked vegetables, and warmed wines. Sugar was ubiquitous as seasoning in savory dishes. But in the middle of the 17th century, the northern European diet began to change. This new regimen relied on fewer spices, based its sauces on fats such as butter and olive oil, and incorporated raw fruits and vegetables. Sugar appeared only at the end of meal."
The author goes on to explain how in the early medieval period, digestion was considered a form of 'cooking', and how a balanced diet of blended foods worked to maintain the equilibrium of the body's 'humors'. Blancmange - a combination of mildly warm moist chicken, rice, and almonds - along with camaline - cool moist vinegar with warm raisins and hot dry spices - were the perfect foods. By the 16th century and later, chemists and physicians came to different conclusions about the process of digestion. Digestion was now considered a form of fermentation rather than cooking. Fermentation included gentle heat and the production of vapors somewhat similar to putrefaction, distillation, and interactions of acids and salts. Thus, separation of foods to be served so as to allow the stomach to 'ferment' the food became desirable.
But if the idea of 'putrefaction/fermentation' in the stomach never caught on? Would our main entrees predominantly consist of stews, soups, sauces, purees, and porridge? And what if foods were designed for our various temperaments?
[Some recipes or menu items for thought:
- For the man of a sanguine and prideful temperament:
Piscuris
Finely flaked cooked fish stirred in a tomato puree, with finely chopped carrots and potatoes. Chilled wine and essence of shellfish stirred in for flavor. Topped with leafy basil.
Crocus risotto
Boil the rice in a small pot until finely cooked, and remove the paper which forms on the edge. Take bananas and melons kept cool, and finely mash into the rice paste. Roll into balls, and sprinkle a little sugar.
- For the man of a melancholic and mournful nature:
Vegetable Beef Stew
Shredded beef in a potato bisque with finely chopped onions, carrots and celery. Salted through burgundy wine. Topped with crushed garlic and spices.
Apple Jelly
Boiled and strained apples drenched in almond milk and honey, covered with grated bread, saffron, and a little salt. Mixed together in a gelatin base.
- For the man of mean and miserly ways:
Cold porridge and stale bread]