The First Thanksgiving Feast: Salt Pork, Garbanzo Beans, and Tortoise?

[This post originally appeared on November 27, 2013.]

Tradition--and most history books--teach that the first Thanksgiving feast was held in Plymouth Colony, Massachusetts, in November of 1621, when Protestant Pilgrims invited their Wampanoag neighbors to share a meal of wildfowl, corn and venison. However, the true "first Thanksgiving" may well have taken place fifty-six years earlier in St. Augustine, Florida.

In 1565, King Philip of Spain sent Pedro Menéndez de Avilés (1519-1574), a Spanish admiral, to destroy a colony of French Huguenots that had established itself in Florida in territory claimed by Spain. On August 28, the Feast of St. Augustine of Hippo, Menéndez and his men landed near the native Timucua village of Seloy and founded the settlement of St. Augustine. Shortly after, they commemorated their safe passage by celebrating Mass--considered by many to be the first Catholic Mass celebrated on American soil--and invited their Timucuan neighbors to a meal of Thanksgiving.

As the meal took place shortly after the Spaniards' arrival, it would have been comprised of dishes produced from the remaining provisions brought from Spain. The most likely candidate was a stew called cocido, made of garbanzo beans and salt pork flavored with garlic, which would have been served with hardtack biscuits and red wine. The Timucua probably contributed dishes made of corn, venison, and tortoise, staples of their diet.

The battle over the "first Thanksgiving" is in all likelihood a moot point, for as historian Michael Gannon points out, other Europeans in pre-Mayflower days would have marked their arrival with prayers of thanksgiving and perhaps even meals with their Native American neighbors. Gannon does emphasize, however, that the thanksgiving at St. Augustine was the first to take place at a permanent European settlement on the American continent. Sorry, Pilgrims!

In any case, I wish you a happy holiday marked by a spirit of genuine thanksgiving for all the blessings we share!

Source: 
Horowitz, Tony. A Voyage Long and Strange: Rediscovering the New World (Picador, 2008).

The Queen of the Bean

The Feast of the Epiphany occasioned much merriment--and expense--at the French court during the Renaissance. The tradition of sharing a galette des rois--a cake containing a concealed bean--traces back to early sixteenth century celebrations of Twelfth Night. The person who found the bean in his or her piece of cake became the de facto ruler for the duration of the festivities. Whereas in England the choice of a "king," or Lord of Misrule, predominated, across the channel it was the election of the "Queen of the Bean" that evolved into an elaborate ritual.

According to Robert Knecht in his book The French Renaissance Court (p. 75-76), it was custom at the court of François I to chose not only a Queen of the Bean, but a bevy of eighteen ladies to attend her. The women wore beautiful new clothes, which the King provided: undergarments of crimson velvet with slashed sleeves held together by gold clasps and outer garments of grey satin fringed with velvet and lined with mink. Matching belts, necklaces and bracelets complemented the attire; the Queen wore a plumed bonnet atop a long golden or silver snood adorned with precious stones. When it was time for supper, the Queen of the Bean rose from her seat next to the true queen, Eléanore, and took the King's hand. The monarch led her and her ladies into the hall where two tables had been set. The Queen of the Bean sat above Queen Eléanore, the dauphin's wife Catherine de' Medici, and the King's sister Marguerite de Navarre at the shorter table; the King joined the eighteen attendants at the second table. During the meal, the Bean Queen was served with the ceremony normally reserved for the real queen, who surrendered any precedence during the twenty-four hours of her rival's reign.

One wonders just how random the choice of the Queen of the Bean was, especially since at the court of François's son, Henri, the king himself chose her name. In 1550, the Venetian ambassador describes how Henri II came into the queen's chamber to pick a name out of a hat. However, Henri discarded several names before announcing that of a "young, really beautiful and most charming" lady who belonged to the circle of his sister Marguerite. The young lady touched his hand and retired to dress "honorably." At dinner, Henri sat in the middle of the shorter table, flanked on his right by the Queen of the Bean and on his left by his mistress Diane de Poitiers. The real queen, Catherine de' Medici, sat next to the Queen of the Bean, along with the king's sister; the cardinal of Lorraine, the duchesse de Guise, and the Constable of Montmorency sat beside Diane. A ball followed the banquet. The next day, the King escorted the Queen of the Bean into Mass before the real queen; after Mass, everyone dined in the same order as on the previous evening, then watched a joust in the palace courtyard. The feast concluded with another banquet and a final ball, which brought the Queen of the Bean's short reign to a memorable end.

[Photograph courtesy of Gorrk, Wikimedia Commons.]

Thanksgiving Wishes

Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!

May you all enjoy dear friends, good food, and true gratefulness of heart today.

Thank you so much for your interest and support.

An Egg-ceptional Easter

Although eggs do serve as a powerful symbol of new life and resurrection, the custom of decorating eggs at Easter has a more mundane, though quite interesting, origin. As eggs were a forbidden food during the forty days of Lenten fasting, eggs laid during these weeks either had to be hatched or kept for eating after Easter. To preserve the eggs, people dipped them in mutton fat or wax and decorated to make them more attractive. Poor people dyed their eggs red; noblemen gilded theirs or adorned them with their coats of arms. Plates of decorated eggs were brought to the parish priest on Easter morning. The priest sprinkled them with holy water and blessed them with a specific egg-blessing, thus releasing the worshippers from their Lenten privations. The decorated eggs were then given as gifts. Baskets of painted eggs were presented to the King of France after high Mass on Easter Sunday; he would distribute the eggs to his courtiers. Henry VIII once received a Paschal egg in a silver filigree box from the Pope. The largest egg laid in the vicinity of the palace during Holy Week was wrapped with a single red ribbon and presented to the king. The groups of youths would go from door to door in towns and villages singing and collecting eggs from their generous neighbors. They would use some of the eggs for rolling games and tosses; out of the rest they would make huge omelets which they would share to celebrate the end of the fast. 

Hmm, an omelet is sounding pretty good right now. . . race you to the kitchen!

Best wishes for a happy and blessed Easter.

(Sources: A History of Food, M. Toussaint-Samat and A. Bell; The Antiquarian Magazine and Bibliographer, E. Walford; The Gift in Sixteenth Century France, Natalie Zemon Davis)