The garden of wondrous secrets and recipes
Is gold edible? It most certainly is, according to a 260-year-old Maltese recipe book which forms part of Malta’s national collection. The quirky title of this little known manuscript is Giardino di Bellissimi Segreti e Ricette avuti da Diversi Soggetti Bravi, e Signori Dove si contengono varie sorti di Segreti, Ricette medicinali, et artificiali, insegnati con l’occasione di Camminare il mondo e pratticar diversi virtuosi, parte di loro approvati da Me Don Giuseppe Seychel. Anno Domini 1746 (Libr. Ms. 1173). Though something of a mouthful, it quite accurately sums up the contents of this handwritten manuscript, which can be viewed at the National Library of Malta in Valletta.
It is essentially a compilation of recipes of all sorts. Mixed in with the medicinal and edible recipes is a multitude of instructions and advice about the properties and use of natural ingredients and elements. Although many of the recipes are not destined to end up on a plate, basic edible ingredients such as milk and eggs crop up throughout.
The title page identifies the compiler of this manuscript as a certain Don Giuseppe Seychel. He may have been the author of some of the recipes, but the manuscript contains evidence of at least six different hands and he cannot have been alone in contributing to its pages. The predominant language is Italian, with a few recipes in Latin or French. The compiler occasionally deigns to specify the names of some who contributed a few of the recipes, but one suspects that his intentions were devious: name dropping, perhaps, or ensuring that blame for any resulting fiasco would not be laid at his door. Some of these names are of prominent 18th-century personalities such as Signor Marandon, an important military engineer engaged by the Order of St John in Malta, and Conte Ciantar, presumably Giovan Antonio Ciantar, who supplies several recipes for liquors and cures. Other authors, perhaps inventors or mere passers-on of such recipes, are cited: amongst them Domenicus Azzuppardi Barbara, Sig. Caval. Costaguti Romano, and Signor Abbate Zimech.
The manuscript takes the form of a notebook or scrapbook, and it is probable that certain passages codified age-old customs transmitted verbally, or copied from other Maltese and non-Maltese sources, a fact that is hinted at in the title. Otherwise, the manuscript is peppered with references to Malta, Maltese persons, the vernacular and Maltese objects such as the scodella di Birchircara, which establish beyond doubt the Maltese paternity of this manuscript.
The manuscript is composed of various mini-treatises on subjects of diverse nature, ranging from the curative properties of certain stones to recipes for sorbets. Sorbets, a fresh delicacy ideal to counter the hot Maltese summer, come in a variety of flavours. Pistachio sorbet seems to have been one of the most popular, as is evidenced by other recipe books and references to food in documents of the period.
The manuscript supplies us with the recipe:
For every jug of water add oncie tre (about 75g) of clean pistachios and pound them well in a very clean mortar. Water down the mixture with about 50g of citron flavoured water, and then draw the mixture through a piece of coarse muslin, squeezing it well. Put the mixture in well-shaken water spiced with a grain of amber. Grind about 150g of sugar. The entire mixture should then be passed through a manica - a type of sieve? - until it is very clear, and then chilled in the normal manner.
What the ‘normal manner’ may be is not explained. Presumably it meant inserting the container with the mixture in a block of ice. Ice and snow were considered essentials and were regularly imported from Sicily for many uses, including the preparation of food. No less than five double-sided pages contain various formulas to make ink, running the whole gamut from your average standard writing ink, to inks which were probably intended for illuminating manuscripts, to the downright bizarre: invisible inks and inks that only appear at night. Added to this, several pages of recipes for making glue for different uses, an interminable quantity of recipes for various types of varnish for use on paintings and other works, all of which would make fascinating reading for the good people down at the Malta Centre for Restoration.
Sticklers for cleanliness would be delighted at the long list of recipes designed to bust any kind of stain. The more image-conscious would read with interest the recipes for powder to tint the face and the various ingredients, including real pearls, used to make unguents, potions and pastes to enhance the female complexion. They sound suspiciously close to today’s foundations and age-defying face creams. The modern obsession with looking good and keeping young does not seem so modern after all.
Further concerns which have eternally plagued humankind are also valiantly addressed here. Premature balding? Apply laudanum oil to prevent further hair loss. Too far gone for these preventive measures? Help is at hand in the form of a recipe which guarantees that your hair will grow back. Is your hair colour revealing your age? Fear not, because a mysterious ingredient called latte di cigna, when applied day and night for three consecutive days, will do the trick. Turning blond, a constant struggle for the dark-haired Maltese, is also catered for in several recipes. And finally, the ancient problem of depilation is tackled head-on by numerous recipes, most of which undertake to perpetually prevent unsightly hair growth in delicate areas.
Pick-me-ups and set-me-rights are also provided. The vero rimedio per non stancarsi mai per quanto viaggio ti fai sounds like it could help with jet lag.
And for those of you contemplating a mid-winter cruise, sea sickness remedies proffered by this manuscript include the recommendation that you drink powdered assintio (probably a form of absinthe) mixed with white wine, prior to departure.
Medicinal recipes range from the practical (nose bleed, tooth ache), to the common (venereal diseases), to the completely off-beat: a remedy for madness, that could only have been born of madness, lists fresh eyeballs extracted from a living cat as the main ingredient: ghastly, but it comes highly recommended. Other recipes just refuse to be pigeon-holed. My favourite is the one which proposes a hitherto untapped alternative source of energy.
The segreto per far gran Luce di notte in Casa senza fuoco, o’ candela would be great for the environment if only it did not involve cutting a vast amount of glow-worms in half. Still, just in case you’re interested, what you have to do is mix the luminous severed ends of several unfortunate glow-worms with mercury, and 15 days later the concoction will give off a bright light, reportedly powerful enough to allow you to read by night.
Food and drink also feature prominently, with particular emphasis on alcoholic beverages. Several recipes for Rosolin, Ratafia and Perfetto Amor and the different tints in which they come are evidence of the 18th century’s favourite tipples. Almost in the miracle-of-Cana league are the recipes to transform white wine into red, and a better trick still, red wine into white. These latter recipes are almost certainly plundered from the manuscript attributed to the Roman master of cookery, Apicius (see The one who started it all).
There’s a unique recipe designed to really impress your friends: the Segreto per renderne l’oro potabile. It’s a little bit fiddly but well worth the hassle, and only for the very rich and capricious. The instructions are as follows: combine well sheets of gold with honey until the mixture acquires the consistency of paste. Cook an egg on the fire (hard-boil it by today’s standards), and when it’s ready, split it in half, remove the yolk and put the golden paste in the cavity left by the yolk. Place the two halves of the egg back together and leave the egg in a damp place. In a short while (time unfortunately not specified) the gold will have dissolved.
Wedged between recipes to cure haemorrhoids and methods of storing tobacco are some recipes for edible dishes. A small selection of these is reproduced below in loose translation. One important caveat: where illegible or undecipherable words impeded my understanding of the recipe, I have had to supply an alternative word which I considered closest to the spirit of the piece.
To make a good bread soup
Toast some bread slices. Take some grated cheese, cinnamon, sugar and cloves; start by putting some bread in a pan, then add the cheese until the pan is full. Let it boil for half an hour and then add two egg yolks and the spices.
How to make pan pepato
Take some flour and add yeast, then add an equal amount of water to form a paste. Add apples, pepper, saffron, cumin, cloves, spiced orange peel, and other spices in quantities suitable to make up a loaf, and allow the whole mixture to rise. Cook in an oven which must not be too hot.
At the end of the recipe there is a note which says that this bread is very good for the stomach.
How to make sweet ravioli
Peel a measure of sweet almonds (the word mendoli is used in the text, which I presume to be a variation of amandola or amendola) and chop them up. Add an equal measure of sugar and pound the two ingredients well together. For every quarto (approximately five litres) of mixture, half a dozen eggs are required. The whites of the eggs should be separated from the yolk and the egg whites should then be beaten into the above mixture and some acqua Zachari (probably ilma zagħar or orange-flower water) together with cloves and cinnamon should be added. Beat the mixture until it hardens. Take flour and mix it with the egg yolks - here the recipe becomes a bit unclear - and stuff the almond mixture into the pastry, then fry in oil. Garnish with white honey, cloves and spices.
For those of you still avid for some further food-related advice, here it is: ‘A wonderful secret to conserve fruit for longer’ - pick fruit and gently stick a little piece of wax in the cavity where the flower of this fruit normally grows. Or just refrigerate it.