I used tomatoes and peppers from my garden. I also added citrus, coriander seeds, and some leftover deer meat chilli so maybe not at all like Aztec salsa!

Obviously not flaky and buttery, but really nice nonetheless, especially with jam or honey.

Original Recipe

So du wilt machen ein guot vastenmuos, so nim bersige vnd dicke mandelmilich drunder vnd suedez wol in mandelmilich vnd tuo denne zvcker dor vf. Daz muos sol heizzen von Jerusalem. vnd daz izzet man kalt oder warm.

Translation

If you wish to make a good Lenten porridge, take perch and mix it with thick almond milk. Cook this thoroughly in almond milk and then sprinkle sugar over it. This purée is known as "from Jerusalem" and is eaten either cold or warm.

A little bit of history

I am slowly recreating all of the 96 recipes from the Buch von Guter Speise ("Book of good food"). It was hand written around 1350 in today's' south Germany and is regarded as the oldest known cook book in German language. This recipe here is one of several recipes of the Blamensir category. Which are a bit bizarre from a modern point of view.

It has different names from the time: Blamenser/Blamensier/Blamensir, or Blanc Manger, "white dish," or "German porridge". In its basic form, it consisted of almond milk, rice flour, either chicken breast or fish, butter or lard, and sugar. It was also called "white porridge" and was a welcome sight at the table due to its pure color and neutral status within humoral pathology (the theory of the four bodily humors). Since this is explicitly a "Lenten porridge," fish is used rather than chicken breast; on fast days, all animal products other than fish were prohibited.

However, there are differences: for one, no fat is mentioned. Fat posed a problem on fast days; since butter is of animal origin, it was technically not permitted. Yet, the Buch von guter Speise contains recipes that do use butter even for Lenten dishes. One could atone for this transgression by obtaining the appropriate letter of indulgence from the church. Naturally, the fasting rules originated in Rome, where olive oil could easily be used as a purely plant-based alternative. In the cooler North, however, it was difficult to obtain. Consequently—about a century after this recipe was created—a special decree was issued to permit the use of butter on fast days. Of course, that was not yet a factor when this recipe was written.

The other difference is that no rice flour is used here. Rice was an expensive import and thus a luxury item. Thickening is achieved here through the use of "thick almond milk." Almond trees were already native to the region (having been introduced to the wine-growing areas of present-day southern Germany by the Romans) and were therefore not particularly expensive.

These differences indicate that this dish was specifically intended for fasting. The name "Mus von Jerusalem" (Jerusalem Purée/porridge) also points to a religious significance. It is essentially a particularly humble blamenser—a specialized Lenten porridge. One ingredient they were unwilling to forgo was sugar, which was also an expensive import (usually from North Africa).

Recreation

The recipe lists only four ingredients: thick almond milk, almond milk, perch, and sugar. "Thick almond milk" appears in several recipes in the Buch von guter Speise and refers to almond milk that has been reduced. To make it, almond milk is brought to a boil and stirred while reducing until it reaches a thick and creamy consistency. This happens quite quickly with homemade almond milk, as it can be prepared in a highly concentrated form.

This almond milk cream is then mixed with the fish and brought to a boil in "regular" almond milk. These two ingredients control the creaminess, eliminating the need for additional thickening agents (such as rice flour). Unfortunately, the recipe does not specify how the fish is prepared, but I am assuming boneless fillets (after all, this is upper-class cuisine).

The almond milk and fish are then boiled together—and sprinkled with sugar before serving. This is likely the part that seems very strange to us today.

Taste-wise, however, it wasn't that bad—similar to another Blamenser recipe, which uses chicken breast (for non-fasting days). When freshly made, you don't really notice the fish or chicken much; it’s a sweet porridge with a fairly neutral flavor, given body by the animal protein, though the concentrated almond milk still comes through nicely.

However, the recipe states that it can be eaten cold or warm. I let the porridge cool for about an hour and tried it again, and it was truly awful. The fish flavor came through strongly then, and combined with the sweet almond porridge, it was—for me, at least—inedible. So, if you really want to try this recipe, I think it’s best eaten fresh and warm.

So I made it! I got a bunch of apples and pears from my dad and from a friend, so why not make this pie? I found out, though, that there was a LOT of juice in the fruit so ended up draining it before mixing the spices in. And because I was cleaning as I went along I tossed the juice, but when I make it next time I will be mixing some of it with powdered sugar to make an easy glaze (the normal way to do cake glaze here in Denmark).

Edit: Spelling. Also, it looks like a crown! That's neat.

Original Recipe

Wilt du machen ein gebraten milich, So nim, do niht veiztes zv^(o) si, die kummen vnd, die gelebt si, den hafen, zv^(o) slahe, daz sie sanfte her vz glite vf ein bu^(e)tel tu^(o)ch, dor in bewint sie vnd beswer sie sanfte von erst vnd dor noch baz, laz sie ligen von dem morgen biz hin zv^(o) abent. so snit sie du^(e)nne vnd spizze sie, besprenge sie mit saltze vnd lege sie vf einen hv^(e)lzinen rost vnd la sie wol ro^(e)sten. vnd wirf ein wenic pheffers dor vf vnd betreyfe sie mit butern oder mit smaltze, ob ez fleischtac si, vnd gib sie hin.

Translation

If you want to make fried milk, don’t use milk that’s too fatty and has curdled. Whisk it in a pot so that it flows gently into a cloth bag. Tie the bag closed and weigh it down—first gently, then more firmly. Let it sit like that from morning until evening. Then slice it thinly and thread the slices onto a skewer. Sprinkle with salt, place on a wooden grill, and let it roast thoroughly. Sprinkle a little pepper on top and drizzle with butter or lard if it’s a meat day. Then serve.

Recreation

Recipe 25 from the Buch von Guter Speise, written around 1350 in south Germany. This was one way to make use of curdled milk. Since today’s supermarket milk is homogenized and pasteurized, it’s not that easy to curdle milk without it going bad. So I heated the milk to 80 degrees and curdled it with a little vinegar. Next, the mixture is poured through a cheesecloth to separate it from the whey. So, I actually made ricotta. But the next steps were still interesting, since the curds are then pressed and fried.

But back to the milk: The recipe mentions right at the beginning that the milk shouldn’t be too high in fat. This could refer to various characteristics. Raw cow’s milk typically has a fat content of about 4.2%. That means today’s whole milk already has slightly less fat (about 3.5%). So you could try using that. Or perhaps skim milk is what’s meant. In this process, raw milk is simply left to stand, and then the cream that settles on top is skimmed off. If this isn’t done particularly thoroughly or repeated several times, you can assume a remaining fat content of less than 1.5%. This can easily be achieved with low-fat milk.

But since I wasn’t sure what the recipe actually meant, I tried it with whole milk and low-fat milk, and the result was clear: If you use whole milk, you get ricotta, as expected. However, it doesn’t press well. Even after about 20 hours of pressing, it was still crumbly and couldn’t be skewered. It was different with the low-fat milk: After pressing, it formed such a firm block that it could be skewered as described in the recipe.

What both versions had in common was that they softened while grilling, making them difficult to handle on a skewer. I then decided to pan-fry them (in butter), which worked very well.

The two versions were distinctly different. While the whole milk version remained crumbly, the low-fat version became creamy and strongly resembled mozzarella. Therefore, I now assume that skim milk was indeed intended as the base, since it works much better with the described technique.

In terms of taste, both versions were very good, but the low-fat milk was better. The whole milk version tastes like fried ricotta—which, of course, isn’t bad. But the low-fat version had a lovely, slightly firm texture and tasted somewhat like extra-milky mozzarella. Frying (or baking) it in butter naturally added some toasty flavors. The pepper goes well with it, too, but it’s not strictly necessary. So: an interesting recipe for medieval mozzarella sticks that can serve as a side dish for just about anything.