Portrait of Charlemagne

“Well, that is one of the few things that is redeeming about those blasted Moors,” Charlemagne said grudgingly. “Even the lowest of their cooks pays great attention to preparation. I wish my cooks would do as much when they prepare my dinner.”

We were discussing food offerings on the Spanish Campaign.  “So you have tried shish-ke-bab, your Majesty?  Perhaps some of your cooks are not so inept?”

I paused to see if I still had his attention and to try to determine whether I could expect an answer.  He was often distracted by the interlocking, revolving circles of military, political, religious, and financial advisors that created a daunting shield around him.

“Yes, I have, and no, they are not.  A woman that was in contact with the Moors seems to have a practical attitude toward making herself useful without regard to religious convictions.  While that may be a problem for her later, right now I am enjoying how she prepares recipes learned while the Moors were controlling this part of my Empire.”

He paused. Noting that the advisors had moved out of earshot, he continued.  “I had a couple of the cooks try to recreate shish-ke-bab and some other dishes, but their results were bland and tough.  They do not take the time to properly season and age the meat.  They also failed to clean the leeks well and I HATE the grit between the layers.”

“Your attention to detail should not be a surprise to me, your Majesty, but I am impressed that you have taken the time to evaluate the nuance of how to prepare the dish properly,” I remarked.

“I do not get much time alone as you might expect,” Charlemagne said, grinning. ” So I find that while dining I can at least have a private conversation with myself about the details of my repast.  So I have taken to comparing versions of specific dishes as a distraction.”

Impressed with this sharing of a personal nature, I encouraged him to continue.

“There are a few things to keep in mind for shish-ke-bab,” he said, warming to his subject.  “You have to season the meat; whether it is bull, or ox, or camel it needs some of those seeds, ’spices’ they call them, to wake it up.  I personally think that boar or pig would be good, but the Moors have some religious objections to that.  Secondly, the meat needs to be cut small enough to cook through in a short time so that it is ready before the vegetables on the skewer get burned.  Browned shallots are delicious, burned shallots are awful.  Third, you should oil the iron skewer so you can get the meat off without having to gnaw on it like a rib!”

Here, he paused for effect, as if to remind me that I really needed to remember that last part.

“Lastly, they make up a liquid to baste the whole thing while it cooks.  This is where you help the vegetables bring out their flavor and keep the meat from getting too dry.  There is a lot of olive oil in the mix and that makes the meat much more palatable.  We will have it tonight!”  He signaled to one of the people riding nearby and gave instructions.  “I might as well enjoy it now, none of them will remember how to fix it when we head home.”

“But surely you could have a scribe preserve your analysis of the recipe?” I urged.  “This could be an entirely new section of books for your library.”

“Pointless,” he sighed. “The scribes show no interest in food at all, so they could not be expected to prepare dishes competently. No other man would think of doing it, and the cooks are women — what hope could there be in trying to teach them to read?”

I discerned a finality to his evaluations, so I did not contest his conclusions. Cheerfully, I just asked about other foods he liked.

“Over the Alps, on the peninsula, they have lots of great stuff.  I guess it is a memory of the Romans.  The Huns just boil stuff, the Slavs at least cook with some wine — which helps. Otherwise, it’s mostly boring.”

“How about closer to home, any traditional favorites?” I asked.

“We do well with beans, like cassoulet.  But that is most of it. It is sad that I, the King of the Franks, have to say this but we need to get cooking ideas from other cultures.  Otherwise, all that will be remembered will be Franks and beans.”