The second, er, first of two from the ten-day event

[madbaker]

This week's Resolution Recipe was going to be next week's, but the other one has some problems and needs to be researched a bit more before I post it. Then again, this one has some major problems too.
Anyway, as actually done: Wild Leeks.

Another preparation. Take ramps, or pappardelle instead with oil and salt and grated cheese and beaten eggs; and put cheese and poached eggs on top, on Saturdays. (Anonimo Toscano, late 14th - early 15th c.)

300 g leek whites, rinsed well and chopped
olive oil
salt (and pepper)
grated Parmesan (split)
3 eggses, beaten
4 eggses, soft-poached

Heat oil in a skillet and saute leeks over medium heat until soft, about 5-7 minutes. Mix in salt, pepper, 2/3 of the grated Parmesan, and beaten eggses. Reduce heat to low and cook until eggses are set as a frittata. Carefully remove in four pieces (ha!), and top each with the remainder of grated Parmesan and a poached egg.

Sources: Anonimo Toscano, Libro della Cocina (The Cookery Book). Ariane Helou trans, 2005.

What worked: This was an excellent Saturday breakfast that felt rich without being heavy. It was quite tasty.

What didn't: The translation says "ramps", which are similar to wild leeks, but ramps are native only to the northeastern US. I went with "wild leeks" as I don't know Italian. I question this a bit now though. Here's the original: "Togli raponcelli, ovvero paperdelli con olio e sale e cascio grattato e ova dibattute; e giongevi su cascio e ova perdute, nel dì del sabbato."

A quick Google search yields this: "Raponcello [in this case] is a synonym for old raperonzolo biannual plant, of Campanulacee Family (Campanula Rapunculus), which has fleshy root like a small turnip or radish."
-It's rampion, of Rapunzel fame!

Hmm. Another puzzler is the option to use pappardelle - which is a type of pasta theoretically from Tuscany (whence comes this cookbook). Rampion has two parts: the leaves, which are eaten raw similarly to spinach or lettuce, and the root, which is generally boiled like parsnips. I'm going to posit that the recipe is suggesting you slice and boil the roots the way we might prepare turnips. Visually, that might well look similar to a wide noodle (assuming, of course, that modern pappardelle resemble their early 15th century forebears - which is possibly a stretch). I've never seen rampion available; I'd rather use a parsnip or some sort of large sweet radish (if that exists) rather than turnips, because turnips are blah.

Will I make it again? I was planning to put it into the regular rotation, but now I'm not sure that I made anything resembling the original beyond the cheese and poached egg on top. Pity. I could repeat this with modern pappardelle, but 1) I was trying to get away from straight carbs for breakfast; 2) I'm now not convinced this was the correct way to serve them. If you're boiling the rampion or the pasta, do you then cook the beaten egg into it and serve it as a soup? Sounds weird. Frittata, as I did it, doesn't seem right either. And I don't think the beaten eggs were served raw. Hmm.

Bother. Back to the drawing board.

Comments

[vittoriosa.livejournal.com]

aha! you're using the first draft of the translation :) in which "ramps" was definitely an error. the new version that's now online corrects for "raponcelli" and you'll note that it is in a section of the book that deals with turnips and turnip-related veg.

i think the preparation may depend on egg to veg ratio. you could make it like a frittata (i.e. mostly egg); you could use less egg, just enough to bind it into a cakelike thing, or you could even scramble it in the pan.

as for the pappardelle, admittedly the one time i tried making it i did something totally anachronistic and treated it like carbonara (beat raw eggs with cheese, toss with hot noodles). i have no evidence to suggest this is how it was done, but it was damn tasty in any case.

[madbaker.livejournal.com]

Can you send me the link to the new one? Thanks!

[vittoriosa.livejournal.com]

https://renaissancefood.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/an-anonymous-tuscan-cookery-book/

[desperance.livejournal.com]

...but if the dish you made tasted good enough to repeat, why would you hesitate to make it again? It may not be what the original recipe's author meant, but it's what you meant to do, and it worked, so.

[madbaker.livejournal.com]

Because I was trying to recreate a plausible version of the original. What I made was quite tasty, but it was a flawed interpretation. I wouldn't hesitate to cook something similar at home; but in the context of medieval recreation (and re-creation), I strive for plausible accuracy.