Outlander Kitchen

Historical and Character-Inspired Food from the fictional world of Diana Gabaldon.

Archive for the category “Voyager”

Back to the Beginning – Rolls with Pigeon and Truffles

(Find the complete, original post on Outlander Kitchen – October 21,  2011)

“You think the man Young Ian followed has something to do with Sir Percival’s warning?”  I lifted a cover on the supper tray that had just been delivered and sniffed appreciatively; it seemed a very long time since Moubray’s stew.

Jamie nodded, picking up a sort of hot stuffed roll.

“I should be surprised if he had not,” he said dryly.  “While there’s likely more than one man willing to do me harm, I canna think it likely that gangs o’ them are roaming about Edinburgh.”  He took a bite and chewed industriously, shaking his head.

“Nay, that’s clear enough, and nothing to be greatly worrit over.”

“It’s not?”  I took a small bite of my own roll, then a bigger one.  “This is delicious.  What is it?”

Jamie lowered the roll he had been about to take a bite of, and squinted at it.  “Pigeon minced wi’ truffles, “ he said, and stuffed it into his mouth whole.

“No,” he said, and paused to swallow.  “No,” he said again, more clearly.  “That’s likely just a matter of a rival smuggler.  There are two gangs that I’ve had a wee bit of difficulty with now and then.”  He waved a hand, scattering crumbs, and reached for another roll.

Diana Gabaldon, Voyager, (Seal Books, 1994)

minced-pigeon-truffle-rolls

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Prince Tearlach’s All-Scottish Penne Carbonara

He was a sturdy, good-looking lad, with thick, light-brown hair curling loose upon his shoulders, and a fair face, cheeks flushed red with cold and exertion.  His nose was running slightly, and he wiped it with the back of his wrapped hand, wincing slightly as he did so.Jamie, both eyebrows raised, bowed politely to the visitor.

“My house is at your service, Your Highness,” he said, with a glance that took in the general disorder of the visitor’s attire.  His stock was undone and hung loosely around his neck, half his buttons were done up awry, and the flies of his breeches flopped partially open.  I saw Jamie frown slightly at this, and he moved unobtrusively in front of the boy, to screen me from the indelicate sight.

“If I may present my wife, Your Highness?” he said. “Claire, my lady Broch Tuarach.  Claire, this is His Highness, Prince Charles, son of King James of Scotland.”

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 11 – Useful Occupations)

bonnie-prince

Our first meeting with BPC – @ the Castle Pub, Inverness

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Jenny’s Onion Tart from Voyager

I caught up with her just outside the barn; she heard my step behind her and turned, startled.  She glanced about quickly, but saw we were alone.  Realizing that there was no way of putting off a confrontation, she squared her shoulders under the woolen cloak and lifted her head, meeting my eyes straight on.

“I thought I’d best tell Young Ian to unsaddle the horse,” she said.  “Then I’m going to the root cellar to fetch up some onions for a tart.  Will ye come with me?”

“I will.”  Pulling my cloak tight around me against the winter wind, I followed her into the barn.

Diana Gabaldon, Voyager (Chapter 38 – I Meet a Lawyer)

onion-tart

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Mamacita’s Mulled Sangria

“Have you ever drunk sangria, Mrs. Fraser?”

I opened my mouth to say “Yes,” thought better of it, and said, “No, what is it?” Sangria had been a popular drink in the 1960s, and I had had it many times at faculty parties and hospital social events.  But for now, I was sure that it was unknown in England and Scotland; Mrs. Fraser of Edinburgh would never have heard of sangria.

“A mixture of red wine and the juices of orange and lemon,” Lawrence Stern was explaining.  “Mulled with spices, and served hot or cold, depending on the weather.  A most comforting and healthful beverage, is it not, Fogden?”

Diana Gabaldon, Voyager (Chapter 50 – I Meet a Priest)

sangria-mulled

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Murphy’s Beef Broth from Voyager

“Wot, not the broth, too?”  Murphy said.  The cook’s broad red face lowered menacingly.  “Which I’ve had folk rise from their deathbeds after a sup of that broth!”

He took the pannikin of broth from Fergus, sniffed at it critically, and thrust it under my nose.

“Here, smell that, missus.  Marrow bones, garlic, caraway seed, and a lump o pork fat to flavor, all strained careful through muslin, same as some folks bein’ poorly to their stomachs can’t abide chunks, but chunks you’ll not find there, not a one!”

The broth was in fact a clear golden brown, with an appetizing smell that made my own mouth water, despite the excellent breakfast I had made less than an hour before.  Captain Raines had a delicate stomach, and in consequence had taken some pains both in the procurement of a cook and the provisioning of the galley, to the benefit of the officers’ table.

Diana Gabaldon, Voyager (Chapter 41 – We Set Sail)

beef-stock-pork-fat

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