Molly Taylor-Poleskey
In the seventeenth century, life ebbed and flowed with the seasons. In my research into the court household of Berlin,
I noted seasonal shifts in livery, lighting, bedtimes, and, of course,
recipes. Even with these seasonal adaptations, however, early modern
Europeans sought to overcome seasonal growing constraints. One
occupation primarily concerned with defying the seasonality of food was
that of the court confectioner. It was his (and his wife’s) job to
preserve the delicate summer fruits for wealthy Europeans to enjoy even
in the depths of winter.
Nicolas de Bonnefons described the rewards of this play with the seasons in his 1654 Les Delices de la campagne, which was translated into English and German and even republished by a Berlin court physician, Johann Sigismund Elsholtz. Bonnefons raptured:
There is nothing which doth more agreeably concern the
senses, than in the depth of Winter to behold the fruits so fair, and so
good, yea, better than when you first did gather them; and that then,
when the trees seem to be dead, and have lost all their Verdure,
and the rigour of the cold to have so dispoil’d your garden of all that
imbellished it, that it appears rather a desart [sic] than a paradise
of delicacies; then it is, I say, that you will taste your fruit with
infinite more Gust and contentment, than in the summer it self,
when their great abundance and variety rather cloy you than become
agreeable. For this reason therefore it is, that we will essay to teach
you the most expedite, and certain means how to conserve them all the
winter, even so long, as till the new shall incite you to quite the old.[1] A view into the confectioner’s kitchen in The French gardiner, 1691,
Considering Bonnefons emphatic endorsement of summer fruits in
winter, it is perhaps not surprising that confectioners were highly
valued in Europe. The moist and cold properties of fresh fruit generally
made it a nutritional no-no, according to Galenic principles of diet.
However, candied fruits were considered medicinal and the position of
court confectioner often fell under the office of the apothecary, not
the kitchen.[2]
In the Renaissance, it was common to seal the stomach at the end of a
rich meal with either fresh or preserved fruits and fruit at a meal was
emblematic of the wealth and refinement of the host.[3]
By the eighteenth century, the task of the confectioner to create
elaborate sugar sculptures for the table was so ingrained that one
encyclopedist claimed they belonged to the artist class and prospects
had to apprentice themselves to a city confectioner for six years until
they had mastered their art.[4] Georg Flegel (1566–1638), Still life with cookies and confections (including dried cherries).
The importance of the confectioner is apparent at the court at Berlin
in the seventeenth century. The household archives contain a frantic
exchange from 1647 between the Great Elector Friedrich Wilhelm
(1620-1688) and his counselors about finding a replacement for the
deceased confectioner, Johann Schenke, whose wife did not want to carry
on the job. It being early summer (Jun 27), the councilors expressed the
pressing need to fill the vacancy because “now is the best time for
juices and other garden fruits to be preserved.”[5]
Friedrich Wilhelm ordered them to install the Prussian confectioner,
Johann Tiegel, in the position. He wrote that although they would
eventually draw up a contract for him, Tiegel should get started
immediately collecting the fruit from the gardens and bringing them to
the elector’s tables with the appropriate confections.[6]
When it was finally written, the court confectioner’s employment
contract specified the supplies he would receive to carry out his
charge: 700 Reichsthaler (in addition to his 80 Reichstaler salary), 960
eggs, as much flour and fruit as needed (from the gardens and from
in-kind taxes), 1000 citrons, 1000 bitter oranges, as well as a supply
of wood, coal and candles.[7]
Occasionally, the confectioner did not get the necessary supplies,
which hindered his ability to preserve fruits and was costly for the
court. In 1657, Friedrich Wilhelm ordered that Tiegel surely be supplied
with apples, cherries, and Black Corinths (Johannisbeere in
German) in order to avoid the great expense of having to buy confections
from outside of the palace, which had been necessary the previous year.[8]
Cherries were the first ripe fruits of the summer. The sandy soil of
Brandenburg was well-suited to growing cherries and in 1656, there were
eight varieties of cherries cataloged in the palace garden of Berlin.[9]
Dr. Elsholtz wrote that cherries were ripe in June and July and
described their consumption: “one eats cherries either fresh or cooked
into a soup, or dried, or preserved with sugar. Some make cherry water
or a syrup.”[10] Here is a translation of one such cherry recipe reprinted by Elsholtz from Bonnefons:
One makes the cherry syrup from the good, ripe cherry
juice, which you press through a hair or linen cloth. For every quart of
this juice, add a pound of sugar, boil that to a thick syrup. To
clarify this syrup, let it run through a distillation sack.”[11]
Elsholtz’s descriptions also correspond with the menus and food
receipts from the Brandenburg-Prussian household archive, which
frequently list the ordering or consumption of dried cherries and cherry
sauce (Kirschmus), in particular.
In some popular food literature today, there’s nostalgia for a time
when humans adhered more closely to the foods nature provided each
season. Even prior to industrialization, however, people clearly prized
the rarity of a taste of an off-season food. What the archival record
reveals, though, is that early modern Europeans of all orders were still
hyper aware of what foods were available when and were careful about
timing the work of preservation accordingly. [1] Nicolas de Bonnefons, John Evelyn, and John Rose, The French Gardiner (London: Printed by F.B. for B. Took, and are to be sold by J. Taylor, 1691), p. 191-2. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.31822031020266?urlappend=%3Bseq=218. [2] This was the case in Berlin. See Peter Bahl, Der Hof des Grossen Kurfürsten: Studien zur hoheren Amtsträgerschaft Brandenburg-Preussens (Koln: Bohlau, 2001), p. 365. [3] Ken Albala, The Banquet: Dining in the Great Courts of Late Renaissance Europe (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2007), p. 82-89. [4] Johann Georg Krünitz, “Conditor,” Oekonomischen Encyklopädie oder allgemeines System der Staats- Stadt- Haus- und Landwirthschaft (Berlin: Pauli, 1773), http://www.kruenitz1.uni-trier.de/. [5] Geheimes Staatsarchiv Preussischer Kulturbesitz I. Rep. 36 948, p. 57 [6] Ibid, p. 63. [7]
Ibid, p. 55. There is no mention of the quantity of sugar the
confectioner would receive, but an earlier missive from the previous
elector ordered the Office of the Domains (Amtskammer) to
supply the confectioner with enough sugar for the dried fruits coming in
as taxes-in-kind from the administrative districts (Ämter). Ibid, p. 16. [8] Ibid. p. 73. [9] Marina Heilmeyer, Kirschen für den König, Potsdamer pomologische Geschichten (Potsdam: Vacat, 2001), p. 10. Johann Sigismund Elsholtz’s 1656 plant catalog Horta Berolinensis can be found at the Staatsbibliothek Berlin Ms.boruss.qu. 12. [10] Elßholtz, Vom Garten-Baw (Berlin, 1684), p. 258. Ibid, Diaeteticon (Cölln an der Spree: Georg Schulz, 1682), p. 61. [11] Ibid, p. 436-7. I translated Viertal as quart and “Luttersack” as distillation sack. There’s a picture of a 19th-century Luttersack here (item 30). According to Adelung, the Lutter is what came out of the first pass through the fire when making brandy (which required two firings).
