So we got to the stage of making the pie…
As you may recall, one of the major challenges was hunting for the artichokes in the first place! Tinned seemed a bit of a cop out, but the show must go on. What was equally a challenge was making the pastry for the pie. Again, you may recall this was a value judgement and a bit of a challenge as, well… I just don’t make pastry. As you can see from the pictures, I didn’t necessarily bother with the aesthetics. This pastry was made by hand and done by judgement as to when the butter is rubbed in. Actually, when caked with wine, sherry, butter and the like, my effort doesn’t taste too bad. or maybe that’s just in comparison to what lies above it.
Sweetness and fruit
As suggested above, the recipe calls for a fair amount of butter too. After the pastry was blind baked, in went a layer of the stuff. I’m now thinking of my cholesterol as it goes in. The (tinned) artichokes have been left in sack overnight and then comes the… sugar?!?
This is where the pie just goes… weird. We’re adding all kinds of citrus things, saffron, and dried cherries. This is not pie as I know it. We’re then adding marrow, for reasons best known to a chef centuries before me. I’m known for crazy cooking efforts, but even for me this is all a little bit crazy! And that’s before we even get to the stage of throwing in the hard boiled egg yolks, and more butter too as if there wasn’t enough… and then baking. No temperatures of course so it’s my best guess of modern pie cooking; I plump for 160 degrees for 45 minutes.
Carnage and fire
My kitchen, now, is a sea of carnage. After baking it I now need to make a caudle out of egg yolks, sugar, and white wine. At this stage my two (willing? Funny which adjectives you choose at times of crisis) helpers are proving particularly useful in ensuring that I don’t take out my kitchen by setting fire to it. Not once but twice, blue flames skirt out of the caudle and start flickering up the walls. It’s nicely ethereal, but somewhat unnerving.
Poured over the pie, my creation is now complete and ready for tasting and having seen how it was created… my helpers won’t go near the thing.
Fortunately I have a (willing? That word again!) audience at the Warwickshire County Record Office, who get to taste it the following day. This is where we make our concession to modern day practices, that I can take a caudle in to work and microwave both it, and the pie in order to reheat it and serve it at the temperature intended. Actually, hold that thought. Is this a pie one was supposed to eat warm? Although the recipe says to cook it, there’s absolutely nothing that says it should be served warm, although it’s clearly implied in my view. Do, nonetheless, please let me know your thoughts.
A mixed response
So I’ve already had a sneak taste, and I think it’s truly disgusting! I present this pie with a sense of trepidation. The smell is sickly sweet, the taste sweeter, and I’m starting to regret not peeling the rind off the lemons and limes, although maybe baking it for longer would have helped there. It’s just a little bit hideous. So imagine my shock when response to it was rather positive! “Christmassy” was one adjective used and I suppose it is, with its alcohol, overdose of butter and dried fruit; it’s a bit like a gooey loose Christmas Pudding I suppose. Other responses? Well also favourable. I can’t help but notice some bowls are left uneaten and politely pushed to one side in the hope I can’t see the ordeal being avoided. Never fear, my victims, I’m on your side – the side that says this is badly wrong.
A show dish?
So it’s safe to say this was a show dish. Pop in all the ingredients that cost a lot, pop in the rarities and show off. Saffron is not cheap now, and the conspicuous consumption of sugar and citrus fruits is making a statement of intent at your banquet. You could imagine it served as part of a great feast, people tucking in alongside other finery. This is not an everyday dish, this is a dish to impress.
Well that was then, and this is now.
Comments
All due respects to the cook and felicitations to the historian who found the recipe, but after looking at it three times and tasting it also, I did think of calling it a ‘wrong pie’, a culinary disaster but in the end, I can only describe it as ‘evil’.
I thought this was delicious – really Christmassy and warming. You have to get your head round sweet vegetables but once you’ve done that – just think rhubarb and mincepies – you’re away. Definitely worth the effort.
Christmassy was the word. A few surprises (good and bad) but overall pleasantly festive.
As a victim of this Pye, I would comment on the experience of eating it but I’m really trying to suppress that memory…
It looked like eyeball stew – marrow, whole boiled egg yolks and artichokes. Worth trying for a halloween theme party.
A very strange tasting experience – never to be repeated! Imagine if you will Pimms with lemons and cherries, throw in some butter, artichokes, marrow and hard boiled egg yolks, heat it up and there you have it.
Cooking doesn’t get much more heritage than this! Artichoke pie is quite common, but usually the veg is in combination with cheese and other savoury goodies. This highly unusual combo of artichoke, fruit and wine was surprisingly palatable. In fact, it got nicer the more I ate!
Having had some involvement in the great search for fresh artichokes, I was looking forward to sampling the results. I have to say that I was not too pleasantly surprised. I managed to eat a whole portion but won’t be adding it to my regular diet.
Hmmm, ‘odd’. I think would sum it up in a word. But ‘odd’ isn’t bad. In fact I thought it was surprisingly good. A combination of flavours you wouldn’t think would work, but it did. I don’t think you could have this as a main course, it’s very rich, but as a starter it would work. Mind you, I did have seconds! Needed a glass of something to go with it.
I can imagine this being served at a Christmas time feast to show off the host’s wealth with all the exotic ingredients… but to modern tastes its just a little too rich and too fussy (at least for me!). I do wonder though whether they’d actually eat the pastry base – or whether it was just made as a ‘container’ for the ingredients?
A very interesting culinary delight! Only a small portion was needed for the memory to stay with me forever.
Not at all what we would expect nowadays from an artichoke dish – a sweet rather than a savoury pudding. However surprisingly much better to eat than its looks suggested.
I really liked the pastry and went back for a second portion.
Sounds fun and interesting will have to try
Brilliant. Now I can give our customers more than just a suggestion to boil and eat with vinaigrette.
We’re growing Globe artichokes on our 18th century veg plot (the Batty Langley) at Castle Bromwich Hall Gardens…. why not suggest things for us to grow next year according to the recipes you want to try out..?!
Now there is an offer we might just have to take up!
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