Chapter 26: Crossing into the Middle Ages

"Marguerite cookies" are truly the most novice of novice cookies. Not only are they simple to make, but the ingredients are easily accessible and common in any kitchen today.

Of course, the taste is excellent—the texture is quite different from the mainstream cookies of later eras, whether thin crisps, breakfast biscuits, or shortbread. To Louisa, they were fragrant, crispy, and substantial, yet not overly dense—much like an oversized version of a Wangzai mini-bun.

As Louisa enjoyed her bacon-herb roasted veal roll, Helena finally tasted a cookie.

Louisa answered the question Helena had just asked: "Yes, it is a type of cookie. How is it?"

"Hmm, it's very fragrant and crispy, and light... lighter than even the thinnest communion wafer, and people always say those thin wafers are as light as clouds!" Helena gave a glowing review after savoring it carefully.

She was now only worried that after eating so well at Louisa’s, she would never be able to taste such things again once her father left the Brudo court.

"It’s the aroma of butter," Helena noted, detecting the distinct buttery scent of the Marguerite cookies, and couldn't help but add, "You certainly use butter quite often!"

Louisa understood what she meant. While to those in later times, butter and olive oil are the twin pillars of Western cooking, at this moment in history, lard and olive oil held dominion. Olive oil, needless to say, is one of the pillars of the Mediterranean diet (the trinity of grain, olive oil, and wine); along the Mediterranean coast, it is not just food, but "civilization."

Lard rose to prominence after the barbarian invasions, following the new rulers of the land—a case of "new emperor, new courtiers." The ubiquity and popularity of lard were evident from the fact that it was permitted even during Lent.

During this fast, which was supposed to forbid all animal products (excluding fish), "plant-like" lard was allowed! This could only be the result of popular pressure from below.

Just as some animals, despite not being fish, were pragmatically classified as fish simply because they moved in water, allowing them to appear on the Lenten table... the voice of the masses was simply too loud, and everyone found them indispensable!

As for butter, it was common enough among the common folk, but on the tables of the nobility—especially outside the north—it was very rare. Historically, butter’s reputation only improved during the Renaissance, and even then, it was initially seen merely as a substitute for olive oil.

"Because butter is inherently delicious, especially for its pure, milky flavor and smooth texture, which pairs perfectly with pastries. For me, taste is the only standard; as for the hierarchy of the dining table, that is unimportant," Louisa replied as she always did.

Jeanne, having finished her portion with the other maids, walked over to join the conversation: "Miss Louisa is right! And even the most stubborn people will not refuse true deliciousness in the end. Even if that deliciousness is made with the 'food of the low-born'."

"Like this time, the Count specially ordered the head chef to learn my recipes! They are to be used at the banquet to entertain guests." Jeanne’s recipes were developed by her and Louisa; Louisa provided the ideas, and Jeanne handled the practical application, modifying them based on the originals.

After all, there is a difference between theory and practice. Dishes made in the kitchens of later eras are hard to replicate in the kitchens of this time; the conditions are entirely different. Not to mention the need to consider the subtle adjustments required for the local palate.

"I thought the Count might just have you make them yourself!" Louisa said with a playful tilt of her head.

This was, of course, a joke. She had long understood that the complexity of the servant hierarchy in a medieval castle was no less than that of an ancient Chinese aristocratic family. Just as in *Dream of the Red Chamber*, a maid, no matter how good at cooking, could not be suddenly promoted to head of the kitchen.

Come to think of it, the managers in *Dream of the Red Chamber* were mostly family-born servants, with many positions being entirely hereditary. In the medieval West, some positions that were not initially hereditary—like the grand steward or chamberlain—gradually became so. Some, if they had no heirs, could even sell their positions!

Truly, there is nothing new under the sun.

In fact, one can see the shadows of modern Western courts here: a king unable to easily dismiss servants with hereditary posts, the actual occupants of a position doing no work (hiring others instead), and more than one person holding a single office—all of this had its origins here.

"That wouldn't happen. Although the masters love these dishes, but..." Jeanne shook her head.

Since Louisa returned to Brudo, Jeanne had only been cooking for her privately at first. But in such a vast court, where could secrets hide? With Louisa willing to share Jeanne's food with everyone (a way of using external pressure to force the Brudo kitchen to improve), everyone had gradually begun to eat this way.

One has to admit, delicious food is delicious! Louisa didn't make Chinese food; she mostly stuck to Western dishes from later eras, which were, in a way, a continuation of the local palate. Everyone accepted them quickly and was instantly conquered—once you've tasted something truly delicious, it's hard to go back to the previous diet.

In fact, for the banquet Jeanne mentioned, the kitchen staff had to learn several dishes from her, including but not limited to chicken in red wine sauce, pike quenelles, and breaded veal cutlets (Milanese style)... which finally gave Louisa something to eat at the banquet.

To Louisa, the chefs at the Brudo court were perhaps just learning these delicacies and still lacked Jeanne’s finesse, leaving the dishes slightly lacking. But to the "guests" eating this food for the first time, there was nothing but endless praise.

The main courses were the chicken in red wine sauce, pike quenelles, and breaded veal cutlets.

The chicken in red wine sauce, like many Western dishes, involved simple preparation of the ingredients—roasting. The flavor came primarily from the sauce, made by heating chicken stock, red wine, and red wine vinegar, then adding breadcrumbs for thickness (the sauce could not be boiled, or the alcohol would evaporate and the flavor would change).

The pike quenelles were simpler; historically, this was a famous dish from Lyon. The method involved removing the bones from the pike, pounding it into a paste, adding egg whites, and shaping it into round or oval balls. The seasoning was simple, and since pike was one of the most common freshwater fish in the river basins of the Valson Kingdom, this dish could almost be called "homely."

Historically, pike quenelles were indeed a popular working-class dish in taverns.

Relatively speaking, the breaded veal cutlets were the only "luxury item" among the three main courses. In medieval definitions of food, veal and beef were not the same, and their status differed greatly. Generally, while beef was not a low-grade ingredient, it was by no means noble. Tender veal was different; it belonged to high-end ingredients and was a frequent guest at aristocratic banquets.

However, even the "noble" veal didn't have overly complex seasoning—just salt and white pepper. It was then lightly floured, dipped in egg, rolled in breadcrumbs, and fried in butter. The finished cutlets were served with a sauce made from beef juices and cheese.

Authentic Milanese style would have included a spoonful of mashed potatoes, but since those weren't available, they were omitted.

The chicken in red wine sauce was rich and refreshing; the veal cutlets were tender and juicy, the natural "meaty" flavor of the high-quality veal fully unleashed. As for the pike quenelles, they were a rare treat at the time, winning through delicate freshness—once made into quenelles with egg whites, the coarse texture of the pike vanished, becoming extremely delicate. Paired with the unique sweetness of a predatory fish, the "original flavor" was superb.

Louisa noticed that the guests, who usually focused more on drinking, had dedicated at least half their attention to the food this time! Although they usually ate a great deal (the military nobility prided themselves on their appetites), eating with such intensity was rare.

When the meal concluded with an orange-flavored rice pudding, everyone clearly still felt a sense of longing, even though their bellies were full!

"...I offer you my thanks, my Lord!" A guest stood up and toasted Count Balzac. This was truly sincere; by the end, only "digestive wine" was served, and such drinks were rarely toasted.

"I come from Rolancy, but even among the families there who pride themselves on their gourmet food, I dare say they do not have the delicacies of your court. To receive such hospitality from you is truly moving!"

The guest's heartfelt praise left Count Balzac deeply satisfied. At this time, one of the obligations of a noble lord was to provide good hospitality. In such hospitality, food and drink undoubtedly played a vital role. Compared to the joy of eating delicious food himself, receiving praise for it greatly satisfied his vanity, which the Count valued even more!

For this reason, he was even more pleased with Louisa—it was she who had brought such delicious cuisine.

After the banquet, ignoring the displeased expressions of the Countess and his youngest daughter, Eva, he referred to Louisa as "my dear little girl" and said happily, "Remember the tower in the southeast corner? It will definitely be finished in a few months, and you can move in then. Oh, you have so much to do, it is only right that you have enough rooms at your disposal."

The construction of the circular tower in the southeast corner of the Troyes palace had begun years ago. Although Louisa had been told upon her return that it would be for her use once completed, who knew what the final arrangements would actually be? The Countess had long intended to secure it for Eva, even though the room Eva already occupied was better than the one Louisa—an unexpected arrival—was currently using.