Category Archives: Digital History

Editing The Recipes Project – 5 years on

Editorial: This is the second of a series of reflection posts from Recipe Project contributors and editors.

By Elaine Leong

cropped-fanshaw-chocolate-pot-highres1.jpg
Our original banner! The chocolate pot taken from Ann Fanshaw’s recipe book. Wellcome Library, Western Manuscript 7113, fol. 154v.

I often start my blog posts with ruminations on how quickly time flies – most probably because as a busy academic and working mother – changes in seasons and project milestones frequently creep up on me as um…wonderful surprises. When they do, though, it’s always useful take a minute for a bit of reflection.

Almost five years have gone by since, in the freezing April (!) snow of Saskatoon, Lisa Smith and I put our heads together for potential recipe-related collaborations. This blog was born just a few months later. I have to confess, when Lisa first brought up the idea of a blog, I was more than a little hesitant. I am one of the worlds’ slowest writers, seeing each footnote as an invitation “explore” and read another 10 articles or so, fretting over argumentation and structure, and indecisively musing over exactly which example best illustrates my point (and then making the – um – wrong decision to use all the ones I found…). Most of us are under pretty intense pressure to write-up and publish our research in traditional formats such as monographs, journal articles and edited volumes. So, the idea of adding regular blog posts to my workload was a little angst inducing. Now, for the second confession of this post – over the years, working on The Recipes Project has become one of the most pleasurable parts of my job and I am incredibly grateful to Lisa for getting us all started at The Recipes Project.

peanuts recipe box
Image of a 1970s recipe index box from one of my first posts “Recipes, Index Cards and Paper Slips” (https://recipes.hypotheses.org/704).

So, what makes The Recipes Project work for me? From the beginning, I saw The Recipes Project not as a blog but as a virtual research network – a platform bringing together scholars and readers with similar interests and fostering conversations across geographical, disciplinary and temporal boundaries. Here, The Recipes Project excels in a number of areas. With a mind on our usual word limit (yes, it applies to editors too), I outline here three aspects which I particularly appreciate. First and let’s get to the crux of the matter – intellectual import and benefits. My work on the blog – commissioning posts and thematic series, editing, and communicating with contributors – have enabled me to keep abreast of new research in my field. More importantly, over the years, The Recipes Project contributors have extended, challenged, and pushed my views on recipes as a text form and collecting, writing and testing recipes as epistemic practices. They have introduced me to different methodologies, inspired me to pull together new narratives and to frame fresh questions. For me, recipe studies now offer researchers unique opportunities to collectively craft together longue durée global histories across a number of knowledge spheres.

Fig. 4 Emerald imitation
My friend and colleague Marjolijn Bol holding one of her imitation emeralds in her post “Topazes, Emeralds, and Crystal Rubies. The Faking and Making of Precious Stones” (https://recipes.hypotheses.org/4659)

Secondly, The Recipes Project is a great example of collaborative research project. Over the years, I have worked closely with a dozens of contributors who not only invite me into their research worlds with much open-mindedness and grace but also motivated me to tighten my own thinking and writing. The editorial team at The Recipes Project – Lisa Smith, Amanda Herbert, Laurence Totelin and Laura Mitchell – are all scholars of amazing generosity. In them, I witness every month how kindness, encouragement and support can build a “village” of an intellectual community. At the same time, we also continually challenge each other with new ideas and skills as we each bring different strengths to the table. For example, unlike the others, I am a latecomer to the world of social media (I only joined twitter last week – find me @HistoryElaine, no tweets yet) and am just discovering the possibilities of being a twitterstorian. What prompted my recent foray into twitter? Well…we have big plans brewing at the RP headquarters – watch this space.

Finally, perhaps most personally fulfilling, over the years The Recipes Project has become a social community in addition to an intellectual one. Logging onto the blog and devouring the latest post, I am always excited and encouraged to read about the new recipe-related adventures of my friends and colleagues. When I head to large international conferences, it’s lovely to see the friendly face of a fellow Recipes Project contributor. More than once, I’ve also had lively and helpful coffees breaks with like-minded contributors at various libraries where hints and tips for new readings or alternative lines of research are exchanged (just like EM recipe exchange?). Many readers also approach us at recipes@mpiwg-berlin.mpg.de with offers of posts and ideas. We always welcome new voices and hearing from contributors hailing from a range of knowledge fields is what makes our community diverse, welcoming and vibrant.

That’s it for me. Next month, co-editor Amanda Herbert will share her thoughts on The Recipes Project – tune in!

Here’s to a New Year!

By Lisa Smith

A celebration party given in honour of a good harvest. Engraving by B. Picart, 1733, after himself after Vergil's Georgics. Credit: Wellcome Library, London.
A celebration party given in honour of a good harvest. Engraving by B. Picart, 1733, after himself after Vergil’s Georgics. Credit: Wellcome Library, London.

September 2017 will mark The Recipe Project‘s fifth anniversary: a big one in the blogging world. And on 29 December, we published our 501st post!

We’ve come a long way since Elaine Leong and I had the idea of setting up a blog. One of our goals right from the start (besides sharing our love of recipes) was to build a community of scholars and recipe enthusiasts

In this endeavour, we’ve been successful. Since 2012, we’ve had over 100 wonderful contributors–and two co-editors (Amanda Herbert and Laurence Totelin) and one social media editor (Laura Mitchell) have joined our team. In 2016 alone, we’ve had over 198000 unique readers and over 525000 unique visits.  Our Twitter feed continues to grow (over 6500 followers), as does our Facebook page (over 830 followers). Thank you, dear readers and contributors for making The Recipes Project such a success!

Now, what were our top five posts of 2016? The vast majority of our readers come directly to the home page and browse through the latest posts, which means that actual favourite posts are difficult to measure. But the top five posts that lured in readers directly to the page reveal an intriguing range of interests and reading patterns.

  1.  ‘Palm Trees and Potions: On Portugueuse Pharmacy Signs’, Benjamin Breen (2 August 2016).
  2.  ‘Jolly Good Ale and Old: Or, Were Early Modern People Perpetually Drunk?’ James Brown and Angela McShane (20 September 2016).
  3.  ‘Hans Sloane: Eighteenth Century Mixologist’, Amanda Herbert (12 January 2016).
  4.  ‘Of Dirty Books and Bread’, Anke Timmermann (12 May 2013).
  5.  ‘Transcribing Early Modern Recipes with the Crowd on Shakespeare’s World‘, Victoria Van Hyning an Paul Dingman (2 February 2016).

The New Year brings new opportunities and challenges. As ever, we are always interested in new contributors. If you’ve been thinking that you’d like to contribute to RP or to set up a new themed series, please do send us an email–we’d love to hear from you! With a number of our Ph.D. student contributors graduating this past year, we’re also keen to encourage junior scholars to become a part of our community.

Over the years, we’ve noticed that the blog provides a wonderful snapshot of recipe research, but one topic has repeatedly emerged: the difficulty of pinning down what exactly a recipe is in different regions and different time periods.  With this in mind, the RP editors will be hosting an entirely virtual conference on ‘What is a Recipe?’ in the summer.  We are super excited about this and hope to see many of you involved as participants. Please keep your eyes open for our upcoming Call for Participation!

With the lead up to our fifth anniversary, we will be including a new feature for the year that will add a soupçon of historiography to our monthly mix.  RP editors and invited contributors will reflect on the past, present, and future directions of recipe scholarship, as well as what the blog has meant to us.

Thanks again for your support. We hope that you enjoy our new directions in 2017 as we will!

An obese doctor acknowledging the favours of a French chef in his kitchen; denoting their complicity, the chef's food providing patients. Coloured etching by C. Williams, c. 1815. Credit: Wellcome Library, London.
An obese doctor acknowledging the favours of a French chef in his kitchen; denoting their complicity, the chef’s food providing patients. Coloured etching by C. Williams, c. 1815. Credit: Wellcome Library, London.

 

 

 

From Dificio di ricette to Bâtiment des recettes: The Afterlife of Italian Secrets in France

By Julia Martins

Title page of the 1574 edition of the Opera nuova intitolata dificio di ricett. Image from Archive.org. 

In 1525 a book called Opera nuova intitolata dificio di ricette was published in Venice. The book promised to reveal all kinds of secrets to the reader, from cosmetic to medical recipes. This anonymous Italian best seller (which we may call in English ‘Palace of Recipes’) was a collection of 187 short and straightforward recipes, most of them only 5 or 10 lines long. The printer combined utilitarian and pragmatic secrets (including treatment of everyday ailments) with playful elements. Indeed, a taste for the wonderful and a desire to entertain guests were a vital component of this book. After all, the printer included instructions to perform magic tricks such as ‘how to make a candle burn under water’. The work was a commercial success in Italy, and was reprinted 28 times in the forty years after its publication.

The Dificio di ricette also circulated across Europe in many different languages, giving it a truly Pan-European flavour. The work was translated into French in 1539 and in 1545, also translated into Dutch via the French translation. This kind of indirect translation was common in the secrets genre. As William Eamon has shown, Alessio’s Secrets were also translated in English through the French translation. It is notable that in both cases, the French translation served as a cultural and linguistic mediator and it was in France that the Palace of Recipes reigned supreme.

Title page of the Bâtiment des Recettes, printed in Paris by Jean Ruelle in 1560
Title page of the Bâtiment des Recettes, printed in Paris by Jean Ruelle in 1560

Titled the Bâtiment des recettes, the French edition of the work found even greater success than the Italian one. Between its first French publication in 1539 and the final edition in 1830, the book was published 60 times. The main reason for this enduring success is probably the fact that, in 1631, the Bâtiment des recettes was added to the series of books printed in Troyes and commonly known as the ‘Bibliothèque Bleue’, since all the editions had blue covers. This collection of cheaply printed booklets included many books of secrets, and the Bâtiment des recettes continued to be sold in France until well into the 19th century.

What makes the Bâtiment des recettes so interesting is that it is not simply a translation of the Dificio di ricette. Rather it is a collection of different texts, themselves anonymous compilations of recipes. These include a collection of 26 ‘Secrets Specially Proposed for Women’ added by the printer Jean III Du Pré in 1539 and the ‘Pleasant Garden’ (Plaisant jardin) added in 1551. A translation from Italian, the ‘Pleasant Garden’ consisted of 202 varied medical recipes ‘developed by doctors very experts in physic’. Therefore, this 1560 edition contained more than double the number of recipes in the original Italian Palace.

Of the many editions of the Dificio, the 1560 French edition proved particularly popular and was most reprinted. Recently, Geneviève Debloc published an annotated critical edition of the 1560 edition of the Bâtiment des recettes. This is a very useful tool for historians, tracing the several different additions and suppressions in the Bâtiment des recettes throughout its four centuries of history, as well as providing us with tables that offer a systematic account of the ingredients used in the recipes (see my review here).

Thanks to digitisation and new critical editions, a growing number of early modern sources are becoming more easily accessible to scholars. We can compare and contrast complex texts, as in the case of the Dificio. Through a bibliographical approach, we are given the opportunity to read an important primary source in the history of knowledge in a new way – at the crossroads of the history of the book and the history of technologies in tracing the evolution in the composition of the text (including paratextual materials and changes in vocabulary), it is possible to understand how multiple agents were involved in the production of the book, from translators to printers. The Bâtiment des recettes can therefore be understood as both process and final product of these interventions. Through its fragmentary and polymorphic constitution, this re-edited recipe book gives us compelling insight into early modern life in France and Italy and its medical practices.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julia Martins is a PhD student at the Warburg Institute in London. Her research focuses on recipes about female fertility in Italian books of secrets (as well as their translations) from 1555 to 1700. Her aim is to show how knowledge about “women’s secrets” circulated in early modern print, drawing a comparison between Italian and French books of secrets and English midwifery manuals.

Ancientbiotics: Medieval Medicines for Modern Infections

By Erin Connelly

In 2015, Youyou Tu jointly won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for the development of a new therapy (Artemisinin) to treat Malaria, a disease which has been on the rise since the 1960s. Significantly, the antimalarial component was successfully extracted from the plant Artemisia annua only after consulting the instructions found in the ‘ancient literature’ of traditional herbal medicine.

As the drugs (chloroquine or quinine) used to combat the malarial parasite have experienced decreased efficacy, such is the case with a wide range of conventional antimicrobials. In fact, major pharmaceutical companies and government agencies have identified antimicrobial resistance as one of the most pressing concerns for global health. The World Health Organization (WHO) stated in September 2016 that antimicrobial resistance is ‘an increasingly serious threat to global public health that requires action across all government sectors and society.’

In response to this threat to global health, the Ancientbiotics team was formed. Originally based at the University of Nottingham, the team is an interdisciplinary group from the Arts and Sciences comprised of microbiologists, medievalists, parasitologists, wound specialists, and pharmacists, who are united by the belief that novel avenues of antibiotic discovery are crucial, along with the shared conviction that the past can inform the future. At the same time that Youyou Tu was awarded the Nobel Prize for her work with malaria, the Ancientbiotics team was investigating a tenth-century Anglo-Saxon remedy for eye infection, known as Bald’s eyesalve. The full paper is available here.

Recipe for an eyesalve from Bald’s Leechbook, England (Winchester?), mid-10th century, Royal MS 12 D XVII, f. 12v. Image and caption credit: British Library
Recipe for an eyesalve from Bald’s Leechbook, England (Winchester?), mid-10th century, Royal MS 12 D XVII, f. 12v. Image and caption credit: British Library

The 1,000-year old recipe has been shown to effectively kill a range of microbes, including, but not limited to, Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), Klebsiella pneumoniae, Escherichia coli (E. coli), and leishmania. All of these species are causes of chronic, opportunistic, drug-resistant, or difficult to treat infections. While each ingredient in the eyesalve demonstrates some antimicrobial activity on its own, what is remarkable is that only in the combination of ingredients, exactly as specified by the medieval instructions, do we see the synergistic, potent antimicrobial effect in clinically realistic infection models.

An interview on Radiolab with Freya Harrison and Christina Lee is available to explain the full story of Bald’s eyesalve.

Clusters of Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA) Image Credit: Annie Cavanagh, Wellcome Images https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/
Clusters of Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA) Image Credit: Annie Cavanagh, Wellcome Images
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/

The Ancientbiotics project also extends to medical texts of the later medieval period. The Lylye of Medicynes (Lylye) is one such text that offers a diverse range of recipes, including many promising treatments for infectious disease. The Lylye is the only extant Middle English translation of Bernard of Gordon’s Lilium medicinae; it exists in one fifteenth-century manuscript (Oxford Bodleian Library MS. Ashmole 1505). The Lylye is most notable for its pharmaceutical content. There are nearly 6000 individual ingredients in the text; 3500 of those ingredients are contained in 360 specific recipes, which represent over 110 disease states (many of which include symptoms of infection). One of the eye recipes is currently being tested at the University of Nottingham and research is ongoing to identify those ingredients which interact with the same antimicrobial synergy found in Bald’s eyesalve.

Lylye of Medicynes, Oxford Bodleian Library MS. Ashmole 1505 Image Credit: Erin Connelly
Lylye of Medicynes, Oxford Bodleian Library MS. Ashmole 1505 Image Credit: Erin Connelly

I am also working on the first published edition of the whole text of the Lylye in order to allow accessibility for increased scholarship. A forthcoming paper (2017) in the proceedings from the 8th Annual Disease, Disability, and Medicine in Medieval Europe conference (‘Treating Infected Wounds in the Middle English Translation of Bernard of Gordon’s Lilium medicinae’) conveys in greater detail the potential of this text to be mined for antimicrobial recipes.

You may read a little bit more about the Lylye of Medicynes in these short blog posts from 2014: ‘ȝif it be a pore man . . .’: Healthcare for the Rich and Poor in the Lylye of Medicynes and ‘þe best mylke is womman milke’: Does Breastmilk Heal?

As a truly interdisciplinary effort between the Arts and Sciences, the Ancientbiotics project has opened new and significant pathways to antimicrobial drug discovery, but it has also challenged the popular categorization of the medieval period as a ‘Dark Age,’ and the centuries-long pattern of dismissing medieval medical texts as ‘unenlightened’ by reason and scientific discovery. In a paradigm-shifting manner, the efficacy of medieval medicines against modern infections instead shows that medieval practitioners were operating within a lengthy tradition of observation and experimentation with recipes that may inspire present day research.