The history of knitting - Part I

The history of knitting- Part I

Photo from Flickr user piedozzino 

Who invented knitting? Was it a sage or a shaman who one day picked up two sticks, some string, and began the incredible act of knitting? Was this ancient genius filled with divine inspiration or dark magic? Could it have been a lucky accident? When I began researching the history of knitting, I expected legends and myths and maybe a few charming fairy tales. What fun it would be to discover Rumpelstiltskin-like stories about maidens in dire straits, knitting late into the night!I had good reason to expect this. After all, the ancient and similar craft of weaving is central to dozens of myths and legends. 

Take, for example, Penelope from Homer’s Odyssey. While her husband Odysseus was off fighting the Trojan War, she fended off lovestruck suitors with a bargain: she would choose a new husband when she finished weaving a shroud. She then wove the shroud by day and undid it by night, delaying her answer until Odysseus finally returned. Consider the mortal Arachne, who challenged the goddess Athena to a weaving dual (weave-off?). Being mortal, she was no challenge at all and lost. The shame was so unbearable that Arachne hung herself. But that’s not the end. Athena pitied her and brought her back to life – but not as a mortal, but a spider so that Arachne would spend the rest of her life weaving. Ouch. See what I mean about great tales? 

What stories would knitting’s origins reveal? A Puzzle with Missing Pieces Despite high hopes, my research revealed neither mortals nor gods. Instead, knitting’s history is made up of an assortment of clues, competing theories from scholars and half-rotted fragments on the verge of disintegration. Not exactly the fun romp through fairy tales I was hoping for. Unlike spinning or weaving, knitting doesn’t figure in any ancient myths. In fact, there isn’t even an ancient Greek or Latin word for knitting! The word “to knit” didn’t make an appearance in the Oxford Unabridged English Dictionary until the fifteenth century and wasn’t part of any European language until the Renaissance. All this confirms that knitting is a relatively new invention. 

So, if knitting doesn’t have an ancient pedigree, when did it appear on the scene? This is a hard question because many of the earliest knitted garments have disappeared. The reason for this is simple: early knitting was made from natural fibers like cotton, silk and wool – fibers that decompose easily. With few existing fragments, the picture of knitting’s origins becomes fuzzy, a puzzle with missing pieces. Would the Real Knitting Please Stand Up? Add to this mix a slippery imposter in the form of nålbinding and we have a truly complicated case. Nålbinding is a needlecraft that produces a fabric that looks like knitting and acts like knitting but, on closer inspection, is not knitting. Whereas knitting uses two needles to make loops within loops with string, nålbinding;uses one needle to splice and knot string together – a process more akin to sewing. However, both knitting and nålbinding produce near-identical looking fabric. In a police lineup, you’d be hard-pressed to pick out knitting from nålbinding.  

Nalbinded socks originally thought to be knitting. Can you tell the difference? Circa 250 – 420 AD (Victoria & Albert Museum) 

 In fact, nålbinding even managed to dupe scholars. It was years before anyone realized that what had been celebrated as the first piece of knitting – a fragment from Dura-Europos, Syria – was not knitting at all but nålbinding! 

This fragment from Dura-Europos was celebrated as the first knitted garment in history until -psych! – it was revealed as nålbinding. ca. 200 – 256 AD, Yale University Art Gallery. 

The reason the two are so similar is because knitting may have grown out of nålbinding. At some point, a nålbinder might have introduced a second needle into the work and played around until the nålbinding evolved into knitting. It could have happened, but with so little evidence, we can’t know for sure. Now, that we’ve looked at these impressive nålbinded counterfeits, let’s check out the real deal. The first genuine knitted pieces are from Egypt, circa 1000-1400 AD (much later than the nålbinded garments). They include some colorful fragments and intricate socks (sometimes called Coptic socks) knit in white and indigo cotton. 

 

Textile Museum, ca. 1000 – 1200 AD; Victorian & Albert Museum, ca. 1100 – 1300 AD; Textile Museum, ca. 1300 AD> 

Even though these socks are the earliest knitted remains we have,becaues of their complexity, they probably aren’t the first knitted garments in history. As Julie Theaker over at Knitty puts it, “Would YOU do stranded-color socks as your first project, particularly if you were making it up as you went and had no one to teach you?” Touché So, let’s take stock. This is a reasonable, if scant, conclusion about knitting’s origins: knitting began in or around Egypt at around 1000AD and possibly grew out of nålbinding. Yup. That’s it. Hardly conclusive and waffly as heck, but better than nothing, right? Unfortunately for us, the particulars of knitting’s origins are lost to history. But once knitting makes its way into Europe, things really start to pick up. The Virgin Mary gets involved, guilds form, and some seriously ballin’ gloves are made for the Catholic Church. 

Source: http://sheepandstitch.com

Click here to read Part II of History of knitting 

Clean Monday and Koulouma in Greece

Clean Monday means the end of the Carnival and the beginning of the Lent. Traditionally, it symbolizes the manifestation of our love to nature, including the flying of the kite, and the beginning of mental and physical preparation for the Passion Week and the Resurrection, with fasting and devotion.
It is even said that the Clean Monday as a feast has roots in the antiquity and the Dionysia, and was later named "clean" because from the morning the housewives used to clean their utensils from the carnations of the Carnival and the meat slops. 


The "menu" this day includes exclusively the "koulouma", a word produced by the Latin colum, and means "pure". The dishes must be simple and quick, the white bean and the lagana bread (unbreakable bread) stand out, while various salads,  taramas and  olives are common. In various places in Greece there are parades of and revive various cunning customs that have been preserved for centuries.  

Lagana bread

 

Ingredients

• 1 envelope instant dry yeast
• 1 1/2 tablespoon sugar
• 500 gr. all purpose flour
• 1 1/2 cups warm water
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• Sesame seeds

Instructions

1. In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast, and 150 gr. of the bread flour in 1 cup warm water. Cover and let stand for 15 minutes until begins bubble.
2. Add the rest of the flour, salt and  sugar to the yeast mixture.
3.  knead for 10 minutes by hand.
4. Shape dough into a ball. Rub with olive oil. Place in an oiled bowl, cover and leave to rise. Let stand for 30 minutes until doubled.
5. When dough has risen, remove from bowl and knead until it's down to it's original size.
6. Divide into two balls - if you made the entire amount. Only one ball if you halved it.
7. Lightly oils your pan(s).
8. With a rolling pan, roll out the dough into a flat oval shape about 15 x 6 inches. Cover and let rise for 45-50 minutes until doubled.
9. Place in sheet pan and brush with olive oil and cover with sesame seeds.
10. Bake for 30 minutes in a 450 degree oven until golden brown. Place on wire rack to cool immediately.

Octopus with split peas

 

Ingredients 

• 1 octopus 
• 500 g yellow split peas 
• 1 big onion finely chopped 
• 150 ml olive oil 
• 1 bay leaf 
• 1.5 liters of vegetable broth 
• 100 ml balsamic vinegar
• Salt 
• Pepper 

Instructions 

1. Clean the octopus thoroughly, cut off the hood and bring it in a saucepan with some water. 
2. Broil in low heat until the octopus is tender. 
3. Add oil in the same saucepan where you broiled the octopus and sauté the onions with the bay leaf and the split peas. 
4. Add the vegetable broth. Bring to a boil, stir, then reduce heat, cover, and simmer until the split peas are very mushy and all of the liquid is absorbed, about 30-50 minutes. 
5. Add the balsamic to taste. 
6. Cut the legs off the octopus and bake them on a grill or hot pan with some olive oil and salt and pepper. 
7. Serve with the split peas.