A HARTE APPETITE: TO COOK OR NOT TO COOK? THERE IS NO QUESTION

"Does not our lives consist of the four elements?" Sir Toby Belch inquires in Act II, Scene 3 of William Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night." His drinking companion, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, replies, "Faith, so they say, but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking." "Thou art a scholar," Sir Toby responds, "let us therefore eat and drink."

Though others may select the balcony scene in "Romeo and Juliet," Hamlet's soliloquy or Bottom's transformation in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" as their favorite Shakespearean episode, this one is clearly mine. And there's reason to believe it might have been a favorite of the Bard himself, for, as Caroline Spurgeon concludes in her study of Shakespeare's imagery, he had a discriminating palate. "His interest in and acute observation of cooking operations are very marked all through his work," she maintains.

Dr. Jennie Cooper confirms that Shakespeare was mindful of the central role which food plays in the human experience. She fell in love with history's most popular playwright at the age of 14 after seeing a production of "Hamlet" in Paducah and has been teaching courses in Shakespeare at Southeast Missouri State University for nearly 40 years. Facetiously she says about the Bard, "He must have been hungry when he wrote those plays because he mentions food so often." Madge Lorwin, author of "Dining with William Shakespeare," agrees. She says, "Shakespeare makes frequent and effective use of cooks and cooking, eating and drinking. In fact," she goes on, "there is not a play in which he has not woven some scene around food or drink."

It is perhaps no accident then, as Dr. Donald Schulte observes, that the most famous speech in dramatic literature ("All the World's a Stage") is given at a banquet. Schulte is also a lifelong fan of the plays of Stratford-upon-Avon's most famous citizen, having appeared in many of them. He's the director of University Theatre's production of "As You Like It" (a play containing many food images) which opens next week at the Forrest H. Rose Theatre. Shakespeare, like any good writer, Schulte notes, relies on everyday rituals that allow the audience to identify with the action of the play and meals are among the most familiar of rituals.

Thus, in "Troilus and Cressida" Shakespeare describes the steps involved in bread making. In "All's Well That Ends Well" he reveals his knowledge of pie baking (with Parolles' exclamation, "If ye pinch me like a pastry, I can say no more"). And in 26 of his 37 plays he mentions wine, as often as not through Falstaff.

Spurgeon's analysis reveals that though food images are fairly constant throughout Shakespeare's works, their character changes considerably over time. In the earlier plays, she points out, food images are relatively crude and simple, dealing mostly with subjects such as hunger, feasting, fasting and drinking. In the later plays, food images become more sophisticated. For example, in "Troilus and Cressida" Shakespeare refers to a dozen different cooking processes.

This shouldn't be surprising because just as Shakespeare was revolutionizing the English language, there was a corresponding metamorphosis going on in the kitchens of his era. Increased trade brought exotic new foods to England, the printing press allowed publication of recipes and a growing middle class sharpened the appetite for good cuisine.

Still, the culinary scene in Elizabethan England was a far cry from today. There was no refrigeration, so meat was salted, smoked or pickled. Roasting was done on a spit in front of an open fire. The kitchen floor was usually made of stone and sometimes the fire would be made directly on it. Wild game, obviously, was a bigger part of the diet than it is today, but cereals were a pivotal part of virtually everyone's menu. As Lorwin points out, "The greater part of England's folk rarely tasted a piece of roast beef." The typical worker's diet consisted of butter, milk, cheese, beans and peas. Bread was hung from the ceiling to keep it out of the reach of rats and mice. There was no chocolate. Tomatoes were strictly ornamental. Baking powder had not yet been invented, so baked goods were of a coarser texture than today. Apple pie, on the other hand, was as popular then as now.

Lacking light bulbs, people went to bed early and got up early and their meal hours were adjusted accordingly. Supper might consist of simply bread, cheese and beer, or possibly porridge or eggs. The main meal of the day was usually taken around noon. Generally, breakfast was not served. The primary eating utensils were a spoon, a knife and your fingers. Forks would not come into widespread use, not even among the wealthiest of families, until much later, being introduced to England in 1610 by Thomas Coryate who initially was the object of ridicule for using them. Because clothing was expensive and not easy to clean, napkins were used in even the most humble homes. Women usually put them on their laps while men wore them folded over their shoulder. Removing food from between the teeth was an acceptable practice at the table as long as it was done with a toothpick or similar implement and not a knife. Wooden tableware was in common use having replaced the hard slabs of bread that people previously had used for plates. Drinking mugs were typically made of waxed leather. Usually there were not enough drinking glasses to go around, so they were kept on a separate serving table and rinsed with each use.

Though feasts, particularly among the upper classes, could be lavish, lasting for hours and involving as many as 50 dishes (you were only expected to eat the ones you liked, not all of them), it's clear that on balance dining is more pleasurable today than in Elizabethan times. Still, you might wish to go back in time with the following recipes. Not only would they complement a night of Shakespeare at the Rose, they remind us that the Bard should be honored not just for his soul, but for his stomach as well.

Roast Squab with Gooseberries

Squab, or pigeon, was enjoyed by English families in Shakespeare's day regardless of their station. The lowly farmer would raise them in the rafters of his tiny cottage while the wealthy landowner maintained dovecotes. Pigeon is still considered a delicacy in France, but most Americans haven't tried it nor care to. If you're among the latter, you can substitute Cornish game hen in this recipe. Just be sure to cook it completely. Squab, on the other hand, is best served medium-rare. If gooseberries aren't available, you can substitute grapes.

Ingredients:

4 Cornish hens

1 and 1/2 teaspoons thyme

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper

4 tablespoons melted butter

4 sprigs rosemary

1 cup gooseberries

Directions:

Remove giblets from hens, rinse and pat dry. Combine thyme, salt and pepper and rub over hens. Insert rosemary into body cavities. Brush with melted butter and bake in 400-degree oven about 30 minutes or until done. Garnish with gooseberries and serve.

Sweet Potatoes with Apples

White potatoes were little known in Shakespeare's day, so most recipes calling for potatoes were for the sweet variety. Few cookbooks gave recipes for preparing them other than as desserts. Apples, on the other hand, had been known for centuries in England and were often brought to the playhouse by affluent dandies who would take a bite out of one and then throw it into the pit where youths would then fight over it. This recipe from a cookbook published in 1654 was updated by Madge Lorwin.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pound sweet potatoes

1 pound tart cooking apples

5 tablespoons brown sugar

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ginger

4 tablespoons butter

1/3 cup white wine vinegar

1/4 cup diced candied orange peel

Directions:

Bake the potatoes at 400 degrees for 30 minutes. Peel and slice thinly. Peel and core the apples and slice thinly. Grease a casserole dish with one tablespoon butter and place a layer of apples into it. Combine three tablespoons sugar and spices and sprinkle a little over apples. Dot with butter. Cover with a layer of potatoes, sprinkle with sugar mixture and dot with butter. Continue with remaining apples and potatoes. Pour vinegar over and sprinkle with remaining two tablespoons sugar. Bake covered at 350 degrees for 40 minutes until tender. Scatter orange peel over top and serve.

Othello Petits Fours

Serve these little cakes for dessert and your guests will surely agree that all's well that ends well. These aren't the only petits fours to be named after a character in Shakespeare's Othello. There are also Desdemona petits fours, which are white for purity, and Iago petits fours, which are green for jealousy. This recipe is based on one in Pamela Asquith's "Ultimate Chocolate Cake Cookbook."

Ingredients:

5/8 cup sifted cake flour

2 tablespoons cocoa

4 eggs

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup brandy

1/2 cup apricot jam

1 cup chocolate chips

2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons heavy cream

2 tablespoons butter

25 whole blanched almonds

Directions:

Butter a 12x18-inch baking sheet, line with wax paper and butter again. Flour the pan. Beat egg whites with 1/4 cup sugar until peaks form. Beat the yolks with remaining sugar to the ribbon stage. Sift together flour and cocoa. Alternately, a third at a time, fold egg whites and flour mixture into yolks. Mix until smooth. Do not overmix. Spread batter evenly in pan and bake at 325 degrees until set, about 12-15 minutes. Cool and cut the cake in half into two 9x12-inch pieces. Spread jam on one layer and invert other layer on top. Chill. Melt cream and chocolate together in microwave. Remove wax paper from cake, cut into diamond shapes and glaze with chocolate mixture. Decorate with almonds.

A Harte Appetite is now on the air. Listen every Saturday at 11:59 a.m. following "Whad'ya Know" on KRCU, 90.9 on your FM dial. Send suggestions for this column to A Harte Appetite, c/o The Southeast Missourian, P.O. Box 699, Cape Girardeau, Mo., 63702-0699 or by e-mail to tharte@semovm.semo.edu.