TO EAT OR NOT TO EAT?

A great debate exists on whether or not medieval pastry was, in fact, designed to be eaten. Scully notes references to enriching pastry with eggs (8-9), a tendency reinforced by injunctions to make pastry "as tender as ye maye" in A Proper Newe Booke of Cokerye, which suggest that some pastry, at least, was very much part of the meal, rather than a convenient casing. The converse viewpoint suggests that crusts should be particularly hard and tough because they are designed as a container rather than as a food (rather like the putative origin of Cornish pasties as miners' food, with the inedible pastry case discarded after being handled by grubby miners' hands). The issue is further clouded by the somewhat cavalier confusions, in many sources, between pastry and dough. While pastry (shortened thin foil) and dough (thicker yeast-leavened bread) are very distinct to the modern mind, there seems to be some haziness of definition in many medieval texts (so-called Icelandic Chicken comes to mind). The occasional reference to a leavening agent, however, suggests that a lighter texture was sometimes desired, which itself points to pastry as an edible, tasty starch rather than merely a container.

The general absence of actual pastry recipes from the medieval corpus makes it rather difficult to resolve this debate one way or another; in fact, both kinds of pastry may be perfectly valid. Medieval recipes cover a wide range of possible pastry uses, from wide, flat open tarts to the great raised meat and fruit pies with a pastry lid. Flat tarts and flans may well have been meant for complete consumption, cut in slices in very much the modern fashion; Forme of Cury contains numerous recipes which instruct the cook to "make a crust in a trap", suggesting that the pastry does not need to be free-standing or particularly tough.

The more substantial pies, on the other hand, often have a fairly liquid filling, and it is perfectly possible that the pies were designed to have the lid lifted so that diners could spoon out the stew-like innards. In addition, elaborate subtleties such as Chastletes from Form of Curye, require free-standing pastry as castle walls, to which use a tender pastry will not really be appropriate. (At least, it didn't work when I tried it). For this kind of dish, a low-fat hot-water crust might be more appropriate. This is backed by pastry recipes in Sabina Welserin's sixteenth-century German cookbook: her crusts are hot-water crusts but are described as being specifically for "shaped pies", and one recipe is an elaborate counterfeit fish constructed from pastry (recipes 64 and 65). In support of this, A Proper New Booke's injunction towards tender pastry comes in recipes for a tart rather than a pie. In my own medieval cooking, I tend to follow personal preference in making medieval pastry as edible as possible; I do not enjoy the texture of a hot-water crust. Thus my standard recipe is based on the one in A Proper Newe Booke of Cokerye, see below.

SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST: HOW DOES IT KEEP?

It is likely that, in very much the modern manner, medieval cooks tailored their pastry to their specific needs. This is supported by Gervase Markham's Renaissance recipes, in which he insists that "our English House-wife must be skilful in Pastry, and know ...what paste is fit for every meat, and how to handle and compound such pasts." His differentiations are made as much on issues of keeping as of toughness, however, and make further distinctions on types of flour: rye for long keeping and a tough crust, wheat for the lighter poultry dishes which are eaten more quickly.