“Good pain d’épices is made in Reims with rye flour, honey and a little pepper or cinnamon... Some believe that the women of Lyon, Auvergne and Champagne, and especially the ladies of Reims, who usually use this bread, are made beautiful and have lovely complexions and robust, succulent bodies…” - Nicolas Abraham de la Framboisière, doctor to Henri IV then Louis XIII, Le Gouvernement Nécessaire à Chacun Pour Vivre Longuement en Santé, The government Everyone Needs to Live a Long, Healthy Life, 1608.
Pain d’épices - gingerbread, we call it, not always the right or correct term as there may or may not necessarily be ginger in it, but rather spice bread - is as old as time itself, or at least as old as baking. Pain d’épices might very well be one of the first breads made; the first known reference of a bread made with aromatic herbs and spices then sweetened and glazed with honey is from the time of the Ancient Egyptians. At this time and throughout much of early history, from the Egyptians to the Greeks, Romans, and Teutons, honey was a divine gift of the gods and had healing and life-giving properties. The Land of Milk and Honey, as the Jews referred to the Holy Land, and for good reason; it was bountiful, sweet, and fruitful. And in the Muslim tradition, the rivers of Paradise flowed with honey. Adding herbs and spices and sweetening with honey was a common way to flavor foods for centuries, most notably here in France during the Middle Ages. Medieval cuisine was famously highly seasoned because it pleased the palate; it was fashionable to serve foods that were peppery, pungent, tart, strongly flavored, and while both herbs and spices were used to preserve foods and for their health and healing properties, the possibility of using both in cooking and baking marked a distinction between classes.
While for centuries, spices, costly and rare, were legally reserved for the wealthy, the noble and the royal court, monasteries also had the right to use them since the earliest days. Around the year 800, Charlemagne issued a decree imposing the cultivation of 70 herbs and spices on all imperial estates and monasteries, making up for the loss of much of the spice trade from the East. Like honey, herbs and spices always had a religious flair, from the Garden of Eden ("every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food”) to the Song of Songs (“nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree, with myrrh and aloes and all the finest spices”), and the gardens of monasteries and convents overflowed with them. By the Middle Ages, monasteries were also well known for the breeding of "honey flies” or bees and the production of honey, the primary sweetener in cooking and baking.
So it made perfect sense that they were also behind the making of pain d’épices. And eventually, nonnettes.
Pain d’épices found its way to the European continent with the Crusades during the 12th and 13th centuries; the first mention of a spice or gingerbread, Lebkuchen, was in Ulm, Germany in 1296, becoming quite the specialty in that area before spreading throughout the region over the course of the next hundred years. The name pain d'épices appeared in French around the 12th century when it became commonly used to describe a bread or cake made with a blend of cloves, nutmeg, black pepper, cinnamon, and ginger - note: for a long time it was pain d’épice, eventually transforming to pain d’épices - spice bread to bread of spices.
Soon, like so many sweet breads and cakes (visitandines or financiers, macarons, madeleines), especially those that would later be considered gâteau de voyage, cakes that would travel well, remaining moist for a few weeks or longer, prized by religious pilgrims, among others, or baked goods specifically made for Christian holidays like Christmas, pain d’épices soon came under the domaine of the monks, primarily being made in monasteries where it became a deeply-rooted tradition. In fact, it’s said by some that pain d’épices was first brought to the French by an Armenian archbishop, one Gregory of Nicopolis or Gregory Markar, in about the year 991 who, settling in the center of France became a monk and a hermit. In a cave, I might add. Brother Gregory lived this life of “penitence and reclusion” for 7 years, surviving on edible roots and wild honey, only eating a handful (literally) of lentils on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And, according to legend, when he had visitors, he would serve them a bit of honey and spice cake he would make himself, a recipe from his homeland. It seems he also taught the local Christians how to make this pain d’épices. He died shortly after.
By the middle of the 15th century, pain d’épices had become a speciality of Alsace, a region that was controlled at different times by France, Switzerland, and, most notably where pain d’épices is concerned, Germany, where it was made by Cistercian Monks, who famously and traditionally served it for Christmas.
By this time, pain d’épices was all the rage; Agnès Sorel, Charles VII’s mistress, was said to be crazy about it - it was long rumored, a rumor since debunked, that her cause of death was poisoning, the poison being put in her pain d’épices. A century later, Marguerite de Valois, daughter of King Henri II, had the reputation of enjoying pain d’épices immensely, and Madame de Sévigné had nonnettes flavored with néroli or orange flower essence and covered with pearl sugar. But despite the love for these fragrant confections these 2 influential women had, it quickly went out of fashion once a rumor began spreading around the court that the Italians were, yes, poisoning it.
It didn’t return to favor until the early years of the reign of Louis XV in the first decades of the 18th century. At this time, it had become customary to serve pain d’épices in the form of small croquettes or nonnettes (sometimes written nonettes), those enjoyed by Madame de Sévigné, and those of the city of Reims had the reputation of being the best; the pain d‘épices made and sold in Paris was considered of inferior quality. There could be a good reason for this: pain d’épices was commonly sold as “pavé de santé”, a bread eaten for its health or medical benefits, sliced and eaten with butter and jam, while nonnettes, sweet and tender, less compact than the loaf, and covered with pearl sugar, were eaten as special treats.
In early 1725, a few months before her marriage with Louis XV, Marie Leszczyńska, daughter of Stanislaus I, the former king of Poland, was passing through the town of Châlons, 40-some kilometres from Reims, and there was offered the gift of a dozen wicker boxes covered in silk damas and ribbons, each box filled with the little local spice cakes. These treats were baptized nonnettes à la reine in honor of her visit. Marie carried these local delicacies back to the Court where they were much appreciated and sought after. Since that time, nonnettes à la reine were offered to anyone famous who stopped in Reims, most particularly the kings when in this “cité des Sacres” for their crownings.
The first master gingerbread confectioners were established in Reims in the 14th century; their guild was granted corporate status by the archbishop's bailiff in 1571, and was officially recognized by Henri IV in 1596, the city of Reims receiving the king’s privilege, meaning only these Master Bakers were allowed by the king to make it. In 1655, there were about 20 maîtres pain d’épiciers (after the French Revolution there were only about a dozen). In fact, it was such a popular commodity, that the people of Reims became known as “les mangeurs de pain d’épices” or “the gingerbread eaters”. Oddly enough, at this time, pain d’épices or pain de miel, honey cake, was often called boichet, but this might, in fact, refer to pain d’épices made outside the city of Reims, a version of pain d’épices made with all white wheat flour rather than rye, as it was in Reims, possibly allowing it to be made outside the king’s privileged city. While the pâtissiers/maîtres pain d’épiciers were making pain d’épices or boichet, it was the nuns in the local convents who were fashioning the honey spice bread into the small, individual cakes which would soon be given the name nonnettes - little nuns - in honor of the women making them.
Reims had been a prosperous and vibrant center of trade since Roman times, and in the Middle Ages it was still an important and busy crossroads of travel, famous for its commercial fairs. Because nonnettes were considered gâteau de voyages, moist and tender and easily transportable, they were bought by those travellers and merchants passing through the city and thus carried to Paris and other parts of the country. And their popularity spread.
Nonnettes from the city of Reims are more than simply pain d’épices, gingerbread, in another shape. Made partially or entirely with rye flour and lots of honey, these spicy cakes are filled with orange marmalade and then frosted with a thin brushing of icing made from powdered sugar, egg white, and a bit of lemon or orange juice or essence. Nonnettes became so popular that in the middle of the 19th century they were being made by the nuns in Dijon, as well, where they quickly became a specialty and a tradition, eclipsing those of Reims in fame (“sought after worldwide” according to the 27 November 1887 issue of the French The Pantheon of Industry: Illustrated Weekly Newspaper). But while the nonnettes of Reims were made - and still are made - strictly with orange marmalade, those who made nonnettes in Dijon took the liberty of filling them with a wide assortment of untraditional jams, from black currant, apricot, cherry, pineapple, or plum, and flavoring them with rum or kirsch, vanilla, chocolate, or aniseed.
Nonnettes, while made and bought all year round, are specially prepared and offered for the festival of Saint Nicolas, December 6, and Christmas.
Nonnettes de Reims
Small, individual cakes made like pain d’épices, gingerbread, filled with orange marmalade, and iced. This specialty of the city of Reims in the Champagne region of France, is made with lots of honey and a bit of rye flour, a spice blend and extra cinnamon.
Industrially produced nonnettes - of which most are, these days, even if very good quality - are denser and spicier than homemade nonnettes, and are flat-topped and -bottomed. But traditionally, nonnettes are, like you’ll get using my recipe, are light, delicate, tender, and moist. And really, really good.
I make about 36 nonnettes 2-inches (5 cm) diameter or 12 - 18 nonnettes 2 3/4-inch (7 cm) in diameter. With each batch I usually do a mix of sizes (18 small and 6 large).
1 cup (250 ml) honey
¼ cup (50 grams) packed dark brown sugar
⅞ cup (200 ml) water
6 tablespoons (90 grams) unsalted butter
Finely grated zest of 1 orange
1 cup + 1 tablespoon (150 grams) all-purpose flour
1 ¼ cup (125 grams) rye flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 ½ teaspoons mixed gingerbread spice (*see note)
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
Pinch salt, about 1/8 teaspoon
2 eggs
Orange marmalade of your choice (I recommend one with more jelly then rind)
Icing:
9 tablespoons (200 grams) powdered/icing sugar + more to thicken, if needed
1 egg white
Squeeze orange or lemon juice or a couple of drops of orange or lemon essence
*note: you can use any spice mix called gingerbread spices, pumpkin or apple pie spices, or Christmas spices. I use a German blend which includes coriander grains, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, fennel seeds, nutmeg, and mace.
This batter can be refrigerated for several hours or overnight, if you like. Preheat the oven the day you are ready to bake.
Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).
Butter the bottoms and sides of (preferably straight-side) muffin tins of your choice, from 2-inches to 2 ½ inches (5 to 6 cm or slightly more) in diameter (I think the perfect nonnettes are 2 ¼ - inch wide).
Place the honey, dark brown sugar, water, butter, and orange zest in a pot and heat until the butter is melted, the brown sugar is dissolved, and, whisking or stirring gently, until the ingredients are blended. Remove from the heat to cool a bit.
Place the all-purpose flour, rye flour, baking powder, baking soda, the spices, and the salt in a large mixing bowl and whisk to blend.
Whisk in the 2 eggs until the eggs are blended into at least most of the flour; pour the warm liquid ingredients (the honey, etc) into the flour and egg in a slow stream as you whisk it in; when you have whisked in at least half of the warm liquid you can pour in the rest. Whisk until very well blended and smooth, leaving no lumps at all.
You can refrigerate the batter if you like.
Using a soup ladle or measuring glass with a lip or spout - doing this leaves less of a drippy mess - fill the muffin cups about half full.
Once the muffin cups are all half full, place a dollop of orange marmalade - a generous 1/2 teaspoon for larger nonnettes, ¼ teaspoon or so for small nonnettes. Some of the marmalade will be absorbed by the batter into the dough and you want to have actual marmalade in your mouth with each bite. You can also adjust the quantity you add for the next time you make them (which you will).
Bake the nonnettes in the preheated oven for 10 or 15 minutes - this all depends on your muffin tins (I use silicone), the size of the nonnettes, and your oven. Keep a watch…you want the set (gently press one of the cakes with your finger to test) and a really nice, deep golden brown like a good gingerbread.
Remove from the oven, allow to cool in the muffin cups for several minutes, then run a knife carefully around each nonnette to loosen then turn them out on a cooling rack to cool completely before icing.
To prepare the icing, place the powdered sugar in a bowl and whisk in the egg white until blended and completely smooth. Add a squeeze or two of orange or lemon juice and whisk well. Add more powdered/icing sugar until you achieve the right consistency: the icing should be just thick enough to stay on the top of the nonnettes in a thin layer of glaze without running off.
Brush a thin layer of the icing on each nonnette; set them aside to allow the icing to set, creating a delicately crispy surface.
Many people say to let the nonnettes sit overnight before eating. Do that, if you can.
You will find my recipe for a French pain d’épices here….
Unlike American gingerbread, the French pain d’épices is a loaf bread made with loads of honey and brown sugar instead of molasses, not too sweet, and flavored with a panoply of warm spices. it is slightly drier and less sweet than American gingerbread, While pain d’épices is sometimes eaten as a sweet treat at snack time, during the end of the year’s festivities, it is served as the perfect and traditional perch for foie gras, smoked salmon, or a fresh cheese spread at every holiday meal.
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Jamie 💫 you make life delicious.
Thank you for sharing ❤️
I recently tasted nonnettes for the first time—but definitely not the last. I truly appreciate all the history you have provided. Thank you!