#medieval ireland

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Today, I’m making a quick and easy accompaniment to any medieval Irish meals you have planned - a bowl of praiseach (pronounced: prashock)! The basis of this is a simple savour porridge, that’s then flavoured with some sautéed mustard greens! Although wild mustard (charlock) greens are usually used, any suitably pungent edible greens can be used!

In any case, let’s now take a look at The World That Was! Follow along with my YouTube video, above!


Ingredients (for 4 portions)
Mustard Greens / Turnip Greens
2 cups oatmeal (or oat groats)
2 cups milk (or water)
butter
Method

1 - Prepare the Greens
To begin with, we need to chop some greens. Though praiseach is normally made using wild mustard (charlock), you can also use normal mustard greens, or even turnip greens (like I’m using here). They all have similar taste profiles - being pungent, slightly spicy greens - that react similarly when being cooked.

In any case, chop your greens finely, removing any untoward-looking leaves that escaped your prep-work.

2 - Sautee the Greens
When your greens of choice have been chopped to your liking, toss a knob of Irish butter into a pan, and let it melt. You can of course use local butter, I’m just totally not biased. When the butter has melted, toss in your chopped greens, and let everything sauté away over a medium heat for only a couple of minutes. Your greens may shrivel up, but this is normal! Take them off the heat when they’ve been coated in butter, and are lovely and fragrant.

3 - Prepare Praiseach
When your greens are cooling off, go start making your porridge base. Toss equal parts of oats and water (or milk, if you want to be fancy) into a pot, and place this over a medium-high heat. Keep stirring this so it doesn’t stick to the bottom of your pot.

While I used rolled oats here, which may have had a similar analogue in antiquity, whole oat groats would have been more commonly used (i.e. the whole, unhusked grains themselves, as opposed to the modern rolled, husked, and crushed grains used here). This would have had a higher fibre content than this dish.

When your oats have been cooked, but are still about 10 minutes from being served, toss in your cooked greens. Stir all of this together, and let it infuse for ten more minutes.

Serve up warm, in a bowl of your choice, and dig in!

The finished dish is quite thin and easy-going. It’s not overly flavourful, but has a nice background heat thanks to the mustard greens. By sautéing them, you cut the edge off the taste, and let it mellow out among the oats.

Oats are a wild grain, and can be grown in relatively poor-quality soils - such as those in parts of the midlands and west of Ireland - and as a result were seen as a “peasant grain” for much of the medieval period. Porridge is one of these peasant dishes that persist into the modern day, as it’s still a simple yet filling dish that can be altered with the addition of different ingredients!

Today, I’ll be taking a look at a staple of Irish medieval cuisine: the humble nettle soup. Late spring and early Summer is the ideal time to make this dish, as the nettle leaves used here won’t have matured fully, and retain a soft, lighter texture than older woodier leaves. Plus they won’t sting your hands as badly as mature nettles. Plenty of Irish families have their own takes on this recipe, and this is influenced by my family’s take on the tradition!

In any case, let’s now take a look at The World That Was! Follow along with my YouTube video, above!

Ingredients
2-3 cups nettle leaves
1 onion, minced
2-3 cloves garlic (or two bulbs of wild garlic, minced)
chives (for decoration)
butter
½ cup milk/double cream
500ml water or stock
salt
pepper


Method

1 - Chop and cook the Garlic and Onion

To begin with, we need to peel and chop a whole onion, before tossing this into a pot with some melted butter. You can of course use oil, but dairy products was (and still is) a major part of Irish culinary traditions - so try and use Irish butter here if you can.

In any case, let your onion sauté away for a couple of minutes until it turns translucent and fragrant. When it hits this point, toss in a couple of cloves of crushed garlic - or some wild garlic if you have any!


2 - Deal with the Nettles
Next, ball up some nettles and chop it roughly with a knife. Be careful, as the leaves and stems of this plant has stinging fibres (which will get denatured and broken down when it’s cooking).

Nettles act like spinach when you’re cooking them, so have about 2-3 times more than what you think you’ll need on hand. Add your chopped nettles into the pot, and let them cook down before adding the rest!


3 - Cook Soup
When all of your nettle leaves have cooked down, pour in 500ml of soup stock (or water) into the pot. Then, toss in about a half a cup of whole milk, or double cream if you have it. Mix this together gently, before putting this onto a high heat. Bring it to a rolling boil, before turning it down to low until it simmers. Let the whole thing simmer away for about an hour.

Serve up hot in a small bowl, garnish with some chives or seasonal herbs, and dig in!


The finished soup is very light and flavourful, but quite filling for what it is! It’s another variation on a medieval pottage, with ingredients that could have been easily foraged in the spring and summer. As it can be made with only a few ingredients, it could have formed the basis of more complex dishes - such as the addition of more vegetables, or meat products.

Given how little the dish has changed from antiquity to modernity, it’s likely that the basics of this soup go back to pre-historic Irish culinary traditions.

Preorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the iPreorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the i

Preorder by 2/7 with your local comic shop if you want to get your hands on “Children of Lir”, the issue I worked on for Jim Henson’s The Storyteller: Shapeshifters! It’ll come out in hardback some day too, as part of the whole Shapeshifter’santhology. I haven’t seen the other work yet, but judging by the previous volumes, it’s gonna be something special!

Here are some snippets of the interior artwork I had the pleasure of doing.

Jim Henson The Storyteller: Shapeshifters, Issue 1 “Children of Lir”
Published by Archaia/Boom! Studios
Writing: Andre R. Frattino
Interior Pencil/Ink: Nori Retherford
Colors:Kieran Quigley
Letters:Jim Campbell
Cover:Mike del Mundo
Variant Cover by: Mateus Manhanini


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Originally posted on Navigating The Stormy Shelves, September 2, 2014.  Review by Morgan.

Star Ratings:

Characters: **** (4 stars)

Character Development: ***** (5 stars)

Plot: **** (4 stars)

Writing: ***** (5 stars)

Overall: ****½ (4 ½ stars)

Age Range Recommendation: 15 and up. (The main character might be quite young, but there’s torture and sexual violence.)

I had no idea that such a spellbinding, heartbreaking re-telling of “The Wild Swans” existed until I read this review on my blog feed.  Thanks, Elizabeth, for drawing my attention to what has become one of my new favorite historical fantasy books!  Daughter Of The Forest sets the fairy tale of the “Six Swans”/”Wild Swans” (depending upon the source) in 9th century Ireland.  The plot follows the important landmarks of it’s fairy tale inspiration, but the historical setting and extraordinary characters turn the story into something new and breathtaking.  Daughter Of The Forest is the beginning of a trilogy, but it stands quite well on its own.  It took me a few days to get through the book, mostly because – after a slow start – it kept crushing my heart and I didn’t want to get too emotionally compromised.  The sorrow felt by Sorcha as she weaves stinging plants into shirts to save her brothers, never saying a word despite the awful things which befall her, made me walk around sighing tragically myself. I was left feeling mute and weepy with my head stuck in Marillier’s tale, but also very much in love with the story.

The Kingdom of Sevenwaters is sheltered by forests: the sort of old Celtic wilderness that confounds anyone who wasn’t invited and may contain otherworldly spirits.  Sorcha and her six older brothers grew up half wild, raised more by the woods and each other than by their father Lord Colum.  The Lord of Sevenwaters is respected and brave, but not a very caring father.  So Sorcha and her brothers rely on each other for good advice, for games, and for sympathy.  She should have been the seventh son of a seventh son – particularly magical associations in the Irish beliefs which flesh out this re-located fairy tale. Instead, she will finish her childhood by becoming part of a more tragic story. 

When the malicious Lady Oonagh entrances Lord Colum and gains control of his household, she turns Sorcha’s brothers into swans. Sorcha goes into hiding. She must weave six shirts from the painful starwort plant to break the curse, as she learns from a mysterious forest lady (a sidhe or fey woman very much like the Tuatha De Danann).But we’re playing by fairy rules here, often cruel and complicated just for some amusement. Simply weaving the shirts would not be enough; if Sorcha speaks one word, makes one sound, signifies any part of what she must do to save her brothers, the curse will be eternal and her brothers will always be swans. If she can remain silent and brave and true throughout all the tribulations which may befall her (and oh lord are there some difficult times ahead), then Sorcha can have her brothers back. Alas, when she gets half rescued/half kidnapped by a Briton Lord – the Britons being enemies with the Irish and with Lord Colum especially – Sorcha’s diligence and fierce love might not be enough to keep from speaking. Life on Lord Hugh’s land is brutal for a young, half wild, Irish girl. Between the rumors that her weaving is witchcraft and suspicions about her political purpose at court, it will be a miracle if Sorcha can finish the shirts without crying out in fear, snapping in frustration, or giving up hope entirely.

So far, so like the fairy-tales by the Grimms or Andersen. Daughter Of The Forest is a nice re-telling of the tale we already know. But the historical details, the setting, the characters, and the writing really turned it into a book I would read and love even if I didn’t already adore “The Wild Swans.” It follows the same general plot, so I wasn’t particularly surprised by any of the huge plot twists. I was often surprised none-the-less. Aside from the business of curses and occasional meddling by fairy folk, the book is richer in historical atmosphere than in fantasy. Even before Lady Oonagh cast her dark cloud of influence over Sevenwaters, the plot wheels were a’ turnin’.

The initial set-up took a little while to get going; we had to meet Sorcha and all her brothers, and learn how to tell them all apart . But then – calamity! A young Briton – possibly a spy, and definitely uninvited – is captured in the Forest and brought to Lord Colum. The methods used to coerce information from foreign intruders back in the 9th century were pretty horrific, so Sorcha helps her brother Finbar free the boy and bring him to safety. Aside from establishing Finbar as a thoughtful-yet-rash young lad (you can see why he’s sort of Sorcha’s favorite), this gives us an idea of the turmoil which was always churning in the Celtic lands back then. Sorcha’s family follows the old religion, yet they hide the Briton with a trusted and beloved Christian hermit. They have been brought up to fear outsiders, yet can feel sympathy for a boy who is caught up in the endless madness of ongoing war. The historical climate which gets introduced through this early harrowing experience sets up for really important conflicts later on. Without all the details about medieval Ireland and religion and general distrust, the drama would have to ride on the powers of love alone. Love is pretty strong in this sort of tale, but the bigger picture made it all feel real, and made Sorcha’s struggle all the more urgent.

Six brothers are a lot to keep track of. Six brothers, one sister, a hermit, various mythological presences, and a castle full of noblemen and women are an even bigger crowd. So it’s a testament to Juliette Marillier’s skill as a writer that I felt so connected with the entire cast of characters throughout the book. I do think that Lord Hugh’s villainous uncle was a little too nauseating to be believed, but he did fit into the fairy-tale mold quite well. Nearly everyone else had depth and an important role to play.

In the end, though, it’s Sorcha and her brothers who I’ll be remembering the most. For a group that spends over half of the book either silent or transformed into birds, they really played hacky-sack with my emotions. The too-short nights at each solstice, when the boys could turn back into humans, broke my heart and made me cry every time. It was just too unfair that Sorcha couldn’t tell them how she intended to help, and that they didn’t have enough time to help her in return. The romance and fighting in this book were moving, but nothing could compare to the bond between these siblings. Any time that bond was threatened I wanted to weep and wail, though I found myself trying to stay silent as long as our heroine had to bite back her own anguish.

I knew how the book would end. I’ve read so many versions of this story. All the same, I was surprised and enchanted by Juliette Mariller’s vision of the brothers turned into swans, and the sister who would do anything to save them. If you like old fairy tales or historical fiction steeped in folklore, go get Daughter Of The Forest from the library. (Or buy it from an independent bookshop!) If you are ok with getting your head stuck in medieval Ireland, and don’t mind worrying about these brothers as though they were your own, start reading this book. It now has a home on the same shelf as my other favorite re-told fairy tales, and I think they’ll find it’s very good company.

Some other fairy tale books I’ve reviewed:

Boy, Snow, Bird

Thorn Jack

Tam Lin

My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me

Black Thorn, White Rose

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