What Your Dinner Said About You in the Middle Ages

Tell Me What You Eat and I’ll Tell You Your Rank (Medieval Edition)–A Fascinating Study!

A few years ago — and I still remember it quite vividly — I found myself deep in conversation with a small group of Australian students.

We were doing a module on French culture, one of those laid-back conversation classes that often drift delightfully off-topic.

The theme for the week? “Food across the ages.”

I had no idea, at the time, what a rabbit hole we were about to tumble down.

Now, to be clear: I wasn’t expecting much more than a few polite exchanges about baguettes, wine, and maybe a passing mention of medieval banquets.

But someone (I think it was Tom — the one who always asked the best, weirdest questions) casually asked:
“So... what did people actually eat in the Middle Ages?”

Honestly, I had no clue.

I mean, vague images of turkey legs and pewter mugs came to mind, sure, but beyond that?

Total blackout. And that bothered me.

I’d spent years teaching about French history, kings and queens, revolutions and cathedrals — and yet I had no idea what was on their medieval plates.

So I did what any curious (and slightly obsessive) person would do: I started digging.

I went back to the sources and what I found completely changed the way I looked at medieval life.

It wasn’t just about what people could eat.

It was about what they were allowed to eat, what they shouldn’t eat, what they hoped to eat… and who they were allowed to eat it with.

Because here’s the thing — and I promise, this will get weirdly fascinating very quickly — food in the Middle Ages was a reflection of your place in the universe.

Literally.

I’m talking God, angels, the elements, everything.

Your bread, your soup, your bird (or lack thereof) — it all said something about your soul, your status, your body, your sins.

That simple class, that offhand question, led to an entire study project with my students, and this Substack?

Well, think of it as a continuation of that journey.

I want to take you along for the ride — no textbooks, no lectures, just stories.

Stories about the nobility who refused to eat onions.

About monks who secretly loved spiced fish.

About peasants who ate better than we might think.

Let’s open the door to a world where the table was not just a place to eat, but a place to define who you were — and who you could never be.

Nobility - Monk - Peasant at the medieval table. (Image generated by Open AI)

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The Nobility: A Feast for the Powerful

We started our project with the nobility — because, let’s be honest, they’re usually the easiest to find in the historical record.

They left behind everything. Inventories, menus, letters, complaints.

They had scribes and cooks and stewards who wrote down who ate what, when, and how much.

Which means: yes, we know exactly how many pounds of salted meat a fourteenth-century noble could put away at dinner. Spoiler — it’s a lot.