Central Asia, the cradle of ancient traditions and a crossroads of diverse ideologies, cultures, and beliefs, has long captivated the imagination of travelers from both near and far. Through their detailed notes and vivid reflections, they have, for centuries, offered a unique, albeit not always impartial, glimpse into the rich mosaic of life in this region: bustling bazaars, nomadic customs, and enduring cultural heritage. In this series of articles, Qalam presents excerpts from their accounts and memories, spanning different eras and revealing the many facets of Central Asia.
Today, we present to you notes on the culinary preferences of the subjects of the Mongol Empire, written by the Flemish Franciscan monk William of Rubrucki
In 1253, the French king Louis IX sent an embassy to the court of the Mongol khan Möngke led by a monk named Guillaume de Rubrouck, known in the English-speaking world as William of Rubruck.
The mission's goal was to forge a military alliance against the Muslims in the Middle East. Setting sail from Constantinople in May 1253, Rubruck traveled to Sudak, then proceeded overland to the Don and Volga rivers. The embassy spent five weeks at the court of Batu Khan, then journeyed down to the Caspian Sea, traversed the Kazakh steppes, and reached Lake Balkhash. By the end of December, they had arrived at the court of the Great Khan Möngke and eventually continued to Karakorum, the capital of the Mongol Empire. Although the mission was unsuccessful, Rubruck left behind fascinating and remarkably detailed accounts of the lives of the nomads of the Great Steppe.
Naturally, he did not overlook the food of the Mongols and Kipchaks—whom, in the tradition of medieval Europe, he referred to as ‘Tatars’—the basis of which he identified as mare's milk. Rubruck dedicated an entire chapter to how kumis and kurt were made, and it must be said that the medieval monk could have made a rather impressive food blogger!
How They Make Comos
Comos — namely, mare's milk—is made in the following way. They stretch above the ground a long rope between two stakes stuck in the soil, and around the third hour [nine o'clock] tether to the rope the foals of the mares they intend to milk. Then, the mares stand beside their foals and let themselves be milked peacefully. In the event of any of them proving intractable, one man takes the foal and puts it underneath her to let it suck a little, and then withdraws it while the milker takes its place.
So having collected a great quantity of milk, which when fresh is as sweet as cow's milk, they pour it into a large skin or bag [bucellum] and set about churning it with a club which is made for this purpose, as thick at the lower end as a man's head and hollowed out. As they stir it rapidly, it begins to bubble like new wine and to turn sour or ferment, and they keep churning it until they extract the butter.
Next they taste it, and when it is moderately pungent, they drink it. While one is drinking it, it stings the tongue like râpé wine, but after one has finished drinking it leaves on the tongue a taste of the milk of almonds. It produces a very agreeable sensation inside and even intoxicates those with no strong head; it also markedly brings on urination.
He also describes a somewhat premium black version of kumis, which, according to him, was served to notables and distinguished guests:
Besides this, caracomos—that is, black comos—is made for the great lords, in the following way. Mare's milk does not curdle. For it is a rule that when no rennet is found in the belly of an animal's young, that animal's milk does not curdle: and since it is not found in a foal's stomach, mare's milk does not curdle. So they churn it to the point where everything solid in it sinks straight to the bottom, like the dregs of wine, and what is clear remains on top and resembles whey or white must … The dregs are very white, and are given to the slaves: they are highly soporific. The clear part the lords consume, and it is certainly a really delightful drink and fairly potent.
Rubruck's descriptions of kurt and the ways it was consumed are impressive in their attention to detail, especially considering that descriptions of kurt are rare to find in medieval literature:
As for the milk that is left over from the butter, they let it turn as sour as it possibly can, and boil it so that it curdles in boiling. The curd is dried in the sun, where it goes as hard as iron slag, and is then stowed in bags until winter. In the winter season, when they are short of milk, they put this sour curd, called grut, into a skin, pouring hot water over it, and stir it vigorously until it dissolves in the water, which as a result turns completely sour. This water they drink as a substitute for milk. They are particularly careful not to drink plain water.