Epic Cooking: The Perfect Cook: Difference between revisions

 
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So what was it about Czerniecki? Well, he was indeed an experienced chef, responsible for setting up aristocratic banquets for thousands of guests and also the author of the <s>first</s><ref>Turns out, it wasn't the first after all. See: [[Even Older Polish Cookery for Complete Beginners]] (note added on 13 May 2024).</ref> cookbook printed in the Polish language. Only that this book – or, rather, a&nbsp;booklet, as it was small enough to fit into a&nbsp;pocket on one’s chest, which was where the Tribune held it – had the bilingual, Latin-Polish title: ''Compendium Ferculorum albo Zebranie potraw'' (both parts meaning ''A Collection of Dishes''). And it was – as we shall see in the next post – precisely from this book that the Tribune got the recipës for all the dishes he would serve at the great banquet in Book XII.
So what was it about Czerniecki? Well, he was indeed an experienced chef, responsible for setting up aristocratic banquets for thousands of guests and also the author of the <s>first</s><ref>Turns out, it wasn't the first after all. See: [[Even Older Polish Cookery for Complete Beginners]] (note added on 13 May 2024).</ref> cookbook printed in the Polish language. Only that this book – or, rather, a&nbsp;booklet, as it was small enough to fit into a&nbsp;pocket on one’s chest, which was where the Tribune held it – had the bilingual, Latin-Polish title: ''Compendium Ferculorum albo Zebranie potraw'' (both parts meaning ''A Collection of Dishes''). And it was – as we shall see in the next post – precisely from this book that the Tribune got the recipës for all the dishes he would serve at the great banquet in Book XII.


Besides, it wasn’t only the recipës that Mickiewicz took from the ''Compendium''. The mention of the dinner given by the “Count of Tęczyn” to Pope Urban VIII in Rome was also inspired by the same cookbook, and specifically, by the dedication its author addressed to his employer, Princess Helena Tekla Lubomirska. Princess Lubomirska, the wife of Prince Aleksander Michał Lubomirski, took active part in Polish political life; she was also a&nbsp;great patroness of arts. Wacław Potocki and Jan Andrzej Morsztyn, whom I have quoted in some of my previous posts, dedicated their poems to her, while Czerniecki did the same with his cookbook. In the dedication, he recalled the time when, in 1633, her father, Prince Jerzy Ossoliński, Grand Chancellor of the Crown (roughly equivalent to a&nbsp;prime minister), was sent by the king of Poland as an envoy to the Holy See. At the time, the Polish Commonwealth was at the peak of its might and glory, a&nbsp;fact Ossoliński was not going to let anyone fail to notice. His retinue included the famed winged hussars, crimson-and-gold-upholstered carriages, ten camels carrying opulent presents for the pope, while the prince’s mount was dressed in diamonds, pearls and rubies, and deliberately shod with loose golden horseshoes – so that the horse could lose them along the way for everyone to see. The banquet which Ossoliński gave to the pope was without a&nbsp;doubt no less osstentatious. This is how Czerniecki described it:
Besides, it wasn’t only the recipës that Mickiewicz took from the ''Compendium''. The mention of the dinner given by the “Count of Tęczyn” to Pope Urban VIII in Rome was also inspired by the same cookbook, and specifically, by the dedication its author addressed to his employer, Princess Helena Tekla Lubomirska. Princess Lubomirska, the wife of Prince Aleksander Michał Lubomirski, took active part in Polish political life; she was also a&nbsp;great patroness of arts. Wacław Potocki and Jan Andrzej Morsztyn, whom I have quoted in some of my previous posts, dedicated their poems to her, while Czerniecki did the same with his cookbook. In the dedication, he recalled the time when, in 1633, her father, Prince Jerzy Ossoliński, Grand Chancellor of the Crown (roughly equivalent to a&nbsp;prime minister), was sent by the king of Poland as an envoy to the Holy See. At the time, the Polish Commonwealth was at the peak of its might and glory, a&nbsp;fact Ossoliński was not going to let anyone fail to notice. His retinue included the famed winged hussars, carriages upholstered in crimson and goldwork, ten camels carrying opulent presents for the pope, while the prince’s mount was dressed in diamonds, pearls and rubies, and deliberately shod with loose golden horseshoes – so that the horse could lose them along the way for everyone to see. The banquet which Ossoliński gave to the pope was without a&nbsp;doubt no less osstentatious. This is how Czerniecki described it:


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|''“The volume was entitled: ''The Excellent Cook'', every known Polish dish was writ down in this book…”''<ref>A. Mickiewicz, ''op. cit.'', Book XI, verses 117–118</ref><br>{{small|Title page of ''Kucharz doskonały'' (''The Perfect Cook'') by Wojciech Wielądko}}]]
|''“The volume was entitled: ''The Excellent Cook'', every known Polish dish was writ down in this book…”''<ref>A. Mickiewicz, ''op. cit.'', Book XI, verses 117–118</ref><br>{{small|Title page of ''Kucharz doskonały'' (''The Perfect Cook'') by Wojciech Wielądko}}]]


Distinguished Mickiewiczologist, Prof. Stanisław Pigoń, once suggested a&nbsp;rather convincing solution to this puzzle: the book that Mickiewicz loved to read when pining for Polish cuisine and dreaming of having an actual Old Polish banquet was indeed ''Compendium ferculorum'', but it was old and tattered, and missing its title page. So Mickiewicz knew very well the contents of the work and the dedication, as well as the author’s name, but he was ignorant of the book’s title. On the other hand, he probably never read ''The Perfect Cook'', but he might have heard about it; the title could have stuck in his head and he may have later associated it with the mysterious treasure-trove of Old Polish recipës that had somehow found its way into his hands.
Prof. Stanisław Pigoń, a distinguished Mickiewiczologist, once suggested a&nbsp;rather convincing solution to this puzzle: the book that Mickiewicz loved to read when pining for Polish cuisine and dreaming of having an actual Old Polish banquet was indeed ''Compendium ferculorum'', but it was old and tattered, and missing its title page. So Mickiewicz knew very well the contents of the work and the dedication, as well as the author’s name, but he was ignorant of the book’s title. On the other hand, he probably never read ''The Perfect Cook'', but he might have heard about it; the title could have stuck in his head and he may have later associated it with the mysterious treasure-trove of Old Polish recipës that had somehow found its way into his hands.


And how ''did'' it find its way into his hands? Well, it seems that Mickiewicz intended to tell us that through the Tribune’s mouth. The Tribune thought his cookbook so precious that he considered it a&nbsp;worthy gift for Gen. Dąbrowski. While presenting the book to the general, he was also going to recount the itinerary the book had travelled until it wandered into Soplicowo.
And how ''did'' it find its way into his hands? Well, it seems that Mickiewicz intended to tell us that through the Tribune’s mouth. The Tribune thought his cookbook so precious that he considered it a&nbsp;worthy gift for Gen. Dąbrowski. While presenting the book to the general, he was also going to recount the itinerary the book had travelled until it wandered into Soplicowo.
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So what came out of this marriage of plenty and art? That we shall see in the next post.
So what came out of this marriage of plenty and art? That we shall see in the [[Epic Cooking: The Last Old Polish Feast|following post]].


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