8 posts tagged “cooking”
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Cena Apicius is a working title for a historical fiction novel about the life of Marcus Gavius Apicius, a wealthy Roman noble who lived in the early first century. Very little is known about him save for snippets of information left behind in works by Seneca, Tacitus, Pliny the Elder and others. He was famous for the lavish feasts he threw for his fellow Romans, and even for Emperor Tiberius. I became interested in the story when reading food memoirs and books about food history. As a big foodie myself, I found myself drawn to the strange story of Apicius, who could be considered the world’s first known gourmand. The oldest known cookbook was named after him.
Copyrighted, draft form, definitely has errors, subject to change, be cut, etc… Here is a Snippet:
In this section, set three years after Thrasius was purchased as a slave by Marcus Gavius Apicius, Thrasius takes Apicata, Apicius’ daughter to the market to
say goodbye to a friendly merchant. The family is readying for a move
from Baiae to a third villa in Rome. This was one of my bits where the characters took over.
Prokopton was a merchant who specialized in everything non-edible. Whatever you needed, he always seemed to have on hand or if not, would be able to readily procure. Over the last two years, Thrasius purchased cooking utensils, everyday pottery, silver serving platters and even furniture from Prokopton. Apicata loved the big bear of a man. He always had small toys or knick-knacks to share with Apicata, who he called “little bird.”
That day he gave Apicata her own tiny wind-up bird that walked, a gift that shocked Thrasius and also brought a tear to his eye. The merchant clearly held a soft-spot for the little girl–the bird was most likely quite costly. Due to their rareness, wind-ups were not for children–they were entertainment pieces meant for the adult table and could often sell for many thousand denarii.
“Prokopton, are you sure about that gift?”
The merchant nodded, his plump cheeks reddening a little. “It was my wife’s. I have no children to pass it on to. Please remind her of me when she grows. I will be sad not to see her every week.”
Thrasius left Apicata briefly with Prokopton as he went across the way to say his goodbyes to a few of the other merchants he frequented. The market was still coming to life and not all the wares were on display. Each stall in the large two-storied building was in a varied state of preparation. In the central atrium, a young slave girl sorted baskets of flowers into pretty arrangements. He said his goodbyes, some of them tearful on the part of the shopkeepers. He would miss the market of Baiae, busy and varied but not so big that he did not know most of the people who worked there. Rome would not be so comfortable.
On his return back to Prokopton’s stall, Thrasius found himself walking behind a small cluster of drunken nobles, not an unusual sight in Baiae in the summer. It was likely the three men and two women had been up all night in wine-infused orgiastic bliss, and were now looking to find an open popina to serve up breakfast.
His ears perked up when he realized that the tallest man was talking about Apicata. “Look at that sweet little girl,” he said, pointing down the street to where she sat on a bench playing with her bird. Prokopton busied himself stacking up bolts of silk on the shelves next to where she sat. “What I wouldn’t give to break that baby filly! She would tremble beneath me and learn to beg for more!” His friends immediately began laughing, one of them stumbling in his mirth, almost pulling one of the women to the ground. She helped him right himself and the group continued ambling their way toward Prokopton’s stall.
Thrasius wanted to beat the man to a pulp but as a slave, he knew that the consequences for him would be far greater than anything he could do to the noble. Relations with children were not uncommon but such effrontery toward a child of the nobility was beneath any refined Roman. Apicata was clearly not a slave child; her dress and style of hair easily marked her as a member of the upper-class. She was not to be used or given by anyone other than her father. If a slave had made such lecherous comments toward a child of the nobility, he could be put to death. This man wasn’t a slave, though, he was a noble and Thrasius knew that he had no means of recourse against the man.
Thrasius raced ahead to make sure he reached Apicata before the nobles. When he reached the stall, he swooped Apicata up. He took hold of a dark brown shawl that was on a nearby shelf and quickly wrapped Apicata up so that she could not be ogled, nor could she easily see what was happening. He shushed her worried questions and protests that he was crushing her bird.
He breathlessly told Prokopton what had been said. Prokopton, a free man, had far more leeway than he did when it came to protecting the honor of the little girl. Prokopton turned and addressed the group of drunkards, who just arrived stumbling and laughing. At first glance it seemed that the merchant was casually leaning with one hand against the handle of a well-worn axe but Thrasius knew Prokopton was ready to use it if need be.
“I think that it would be best for the lot of you to keep moving,” Prokopton growled.
The noble who first eyed Apicata had one arm draped across the shoulders of his female companion, a prostitute with a chipped tooth and a cockeyed black wig. The man’s green eyes were bleary red and one eyebrow raised as he broke out in a drunken grin when he responded to Prokopton. He was in his early twenties and his silk dining robe, called a synthesis, indicated he was a man of who had no small amount of money.
“We mean no harm, no harm,” he said, the scent of honey wine heavy on his breath. “Is that your lovely daughter? We were remarking on what a pretty little thing she is.”
“I bet you were. Any more remarks and you’ll be apologizing to Marcus Gavius Apicius yourself, on your knees begging for forgiveness for the lecherous insults you bestowed upon his child. You are not presenting your best face today, and I suggest you sober up and stop embarrassing yourself and the people around you.”
The man laughed long and hard, his dark hair blowing gently in the morning breeze as his head tilted back. “Apicius has a daughter! Well well, that’s as much of a surprise as if Juno turned me into a cow. That man owes me a favor and I think I just discovered how he can repay. You are right, it’s best that we be on our way. I will have to pay dear Marcus a visit soon!”
“He’s leaving for Rome. You missed your chance,” Thrasius lashed out, moving to stand in front of Apicata. Even he didn’t casually use Apicius’ praenomen of Marcus. Only Aelia and Popilla had the right to be so intimate. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry—angry enough to murder.
“Ahh even better. I’m from Rome! I can look for him at leisure when I return!” At that, he pulled his friends away, chuckling as he left Prokopton and Thrasius standing both bewildered and angry.
“Do you know who that was?” Thrasius asked Prokopton. He put Apicata back on the ground and hugged her tight. She pulled back the shawl and tried bombarding him with questions but he shushed her with a quick finger to her mouth.
Prokopton shook his head. “No, I’ve not seen him around here before. It is as he says, he must be visiting.” He turned to Thrasius then, coming close enough to talk quietly without the girl overhearing. Thrasius stood and Prokopton grasped his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “You must keep her safe. You must!”
Thrasius nodded, not sure how someone in his station could do much of anything save cook a good meal. “I will try, my friend. I promise.”
This was done back in 1966 and was the precursor to the Cookie Monster we know and love.
In researching Apicius, I've found that some of the books I'd like to have are quite expensive!
First
off, Pliny's Natural History, which I realize can be found online, but
there is something quite nice about having a book in front of you chock
full of bookmarks. Besides, this is proving to be one of the books that I will probably refer to often--being able to comb the Histories to find out information such as that cucumbers were Tiberius' most favorite food--that's priceless.
Well, no, it's $125. At 233 pages, that's $1.80 a page!!!! Ouch. I can buy the individual volumes but I don't see that happening any time soon considering that would be even more for all of them considering they run around $21 a piece for the Loeb Classical editions. I've dug around all over and just can't find a full volume for less.
I suppose that since these are very niche books and will only sell in smaller numbers that the publishers jack them up knowing that serious scholars will fork over the cash. I think I'll be sticking to the online Pliny, despite how much of a pain in the ass it is to go through hundreds of web pages with no easy search feature. But the Apicius one -- well, I'll probably buy it at some point over the course of the next year. I'm already feeling the pain of forking over so much $ for a cookbook...
in looking for crockpot recipes yesterday to cook up our bunny (mmm crockpot bunny was awesome) I ran across this little tidbit at cooks.com:
2 metric tons onions, chopped
3 cubic yards parsley, chopped
1 med. elephant, gray
6 barrels flour, sifted
1/2 pickup truck loaf salt
1 lg. rabbit
Wash elephant and pat dry. Rub with salt and let stand. Saute onions, stir in elephant, rabbit and remaining salt. Add water to top of kettle and simmer 2 weeks or until tender. Thicken with flour and remove from heat. Sprinkle in parsley and leave uncovered for 1 1/2 minutes. Serve immediately as elephant tends to get tough and rubbery when cold. Leave out rabbit if you don’t like hare in your soup.
We opted out of the elephant stew and just decided on the rabbit. Romeo, in particular, really loved the bunny. So much so that he even got into the garbage overnight to get at the bones, something that he never never never does. Thankfully he doesn't really have any teeth (maybe 8 left after we had a whole bunch of them yanked a few years back) so he probably just licked them and then went on his merry way. I wonder what he would think about elephant.
Here are this week's 365 photos....
Day 006: Joe cooked up some lamb with garlic and some other spices...
Day 008: This restored house from the Revolutionary era looked really beautiful in the brief bit of snow we had last Friday. I drive by this house every day on my way to work. It's on the Minuteman trail out in Concord...no, it's not inhabited.
It's misting out. A dreary, grey, annoying misty day. And as we often do on Sunday, we go shopping for the first few days of the upcoming week (we try to buy fresh so usually don't buy more than a couple of days ahead). We went over to Russo's this morning, which is always a madhouse but the prices are so good and the selection so varied that we always end up as part of the throng, pushing our way through all the little Japanese grandmothers, fathers with their kids hanging off the carts (which is ridiculous as the aisles are tiny and the people are too numerous) and the old ladies picking over the green beans.
For Day 03, I captured this pretty picture, a bright contrast to the gloom outside.
We also bought some steel cut oats so I could try out a slow cooker oatmeal recipe for one of these cold mornings. As we were unpacking the groceries, Joe asked me if I was a mare or a doe. I looked at him, baffled, assuming this was one of his other silly antics (he makes up songs about me...how I'm "sweet and kind, fill her up with melon rind" and the like). He explained that mares and does eat oats and lambs eat ivy, looking at me expectantly, as though I was just going to understand. Finally, after laughing at my exasperation, he explained that it was a childhood nursery rhyme and he was surprised I hadn't ever heard of it. Look it up, he told me.
So I did, and the song is actually called Mairzy Doats, written in 1943. From Wikipedia:
At first glance, the song's refrain, as written on the sheet music, seems to be meaningless:
- Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
- A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?
- Yes! Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
- A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?
However, the lyrics of the bridge provide a clue:
- If the words sound queer and funny to your ear, a little bit jumbled and jivey,
- Sing "Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy."
With this aid, the refrain is easily comprehended, and the ear will detect the hidden message of the final line: "A kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you?"
Who knew? Not me, apparently.
Snagged from June...
A list compiled by the BBC of 50 foods readers recommended everyone try at least once in their life. I've tried all except a handful.
1. Fresh fish -yes, yes. Trout is especially tasty.
2. Lobster - I live in New England, come on.
3. Steak
4. Thai food - I'm a little picky about Thai food; I don't do peppers very well but I do like it.
5. Chinese food - once a week. Our delivery guy is super Emo cool and he gets there fast.
6. Ice cream -omg I woul eat this every day if I could.
7. Pizza -just had this for lunch...leftovers from last night's dinner.
8. Crab
9. Curry - I'm not partial to curry...too spicy usually but I've had it.
10. Prawns
11. Moreton Bay Bugs - Haven't had these. I have to see if my parents ever had them when they lived in Australia. Donna Hay always has recipes for the bugs that look interesting.
12. Clam chowder - Again, it's that New Englad thing. Joe makes it every year for our Xmas party--this year will be 7 years!
13. Barbecues - Blue Ribbon is the best!
14. Pancakes - I love love love banana pancakes. But not on top or the side--they have to be cooked in.
15. Pasta - I really like orichette...the shape makes me smile
16. Mussels
17. Cheesecake - I make a great chocolate amaretto cheesecake!
18. Lamb
19. Cream tea - I've had high tea before but not cream tea, it seems. Not w/clotted cream and Devonshire tea at least.
20. Alligator - I'm not sure when I would have the opportunity to try this but I would if offered.
21. Oysters - I can take em or leave em. Grilled have been the best way I've had them in my opinion.
22. Kangaroo - Again I should ask my parents. I've not had but would try.
23. Chocolate
24. Sandwiches
25. Greek food
26. Burgers
27. Mexican food
28. Squid I've had it...hate it unless it's fried...
29. American diner breakfast -- Yes! The Deluxe Town Diner is our fave.
30. Salmon
31. Venison
32. Guinea pig -- umm...I didn't know you could eat them. And never plan to.
33. Shark -- I don't think I've had...
34. Sushi -- We love Sushi 21!
35. Paella
36. Barramundi - I'm not sure. I don't think I have.
37. Reindeer - I haven't but would.
38. Kebab
39. Scallops
40. Australian meat pie - I've not had but I would. I'm not terribly fond of mincemeat however...
41. Mango
42. Durian fruit - no but they always look interesting!
43. Octopus - yes, and yuck.
44. Ribs
45. Roast beef
46. Tapas
47. Jerk chicken/pork
48. Haggis - I'm not sure I could stomach it. Get it? Ha ha, I'm such a riot...
49. Caviar - yes. yuck. Guess I'll never be truly refined.
50. Cornish pasty - I've not had these but they seem very similar to piroshki which I really love--had my first taste a dozen years ago at Piroshky Piroshky at Pike Place Market. Oh I loved that place!! One of the top things I miss about Seattle, actually.
Well it looks like for the most part I am pretty set when it comes to food to try. I would add a few things to this list, though. A good triple cream or bleu cheese of some sort, pomegranates (way more interesting than a silly mango), peanut butter (it's mostly a freak American phenomenon, but I think everyone should at least try it) and I'm sure there are a dozen more things I could add to the list...
I've always loved food. One of my greatest pleasures in life is being able to experience the endless variety of tastes available in this wide wide world. But it wasn't until two key things in my life occurred before I was able to transcend into a real understanding of the world of gastronomy.
1. I met my husband. He who won't let me eat most processed food. Has completely and utterly nixed all fast food in our lives forever. He who loves to cook with fresh foods and ingredients and has a knack for combining flavors in exquisite home cooked meals paired with great wine (he was in the business for years so he really knows his stuff!). I grew up as a picky eater and meeting him really branched me out. I started eating more fish and seafood. Sushi. Fois gras (although I feel somewhat opposed to it). Drinking red wine (I NEVER drank red before I met him and now I love it more than anything). Pheasant. Risotto. All sorts of wonderful adventurous things that I never had in my white-bread little life.
2. About the same time, one of my dearest friends sent me a book by M.F.K. Fisher.
Before then I hadn't really known about food books. Cookbooks, yes...I've always loved cookbooks and trying new recipes. But food memoirs were a whole new territory. To be able to combine two of my loves--food and reading. Ooo la la!
I devoured that first book and promptly began looking for other books that the gourmande had written in her life.
This led me to other books that celebrated food and cooking in a style no longer seen in today's world except in fine restaurants where the average person will never be able to afford to eat except on very nice occasions.
From there I've been reading other really wonderful foodie books--The Auberge of the Flowering Hearth being one of the most lush, interesting books yet. It's a journey that a blind journalist (although in reading the book you would NEVER know he was blind) took to the French Alps to discover the truth about the Carthusian monks who created the Chartreuse liqueur. What ended up happening was that he became fascinated with the culinary expertise of the two women who owned the inn that he stayed at when he was there. The recipes are amazing--I'm dying for Joe to make one of the extremely complicated terrines described in the book. A big winter project--maybe if you are lucky enough to come to our annual X-mas party, he'll have something tasty to try.
And now I'm on to The Perfectionist, about the life of Bernard Loiseau, a three-Michelin-star Chef, who commited suicide in 2003 and all of France mourned--over 4,000 people attended his funeral. And on the opposite end of that spectrum, the lively and colorful book, Heat, about a New Yorker editor who becomes Mario Batali's "slave" in the kitchen. And neurotic like I am, I'm reading them both at the same time.
I need to pick up Julia Child's autobiography...that's definitely on the agenda. And along with that, Julie & Julia. Any recommends on where to go from here?
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