Alright, so, I’ve been diving deep into the rabbit hole of ancient Roman cuisine lately. I mean, we all know about the emperors and the gladiators, but what about the everyday grub? Forget your pizza and pasta (well, for a bit), let’s talk garum, puls, and dormice. Yes, dormice.
Now, attempting to recreate recipes from a couple of millennia ago is… an experience. The sources are sometimes vague (Apicius’s ‘De Re Coquinaria’ being a prime example, I mean, ‘add a handful of this mysterious spice’ doesn’t exactly cut it when you’re at the supermarket, does it?), and let’s be real, some of the ingredients are… challenging to source or even think about eating in this century (I’m looking at you, roasted dormouse). Apicius himself is a fascinating figure; while ‘De Re Coquinaria’ (c. 4th-5th century CE) is attributed to him, its actual compilation is shrouded in mystery. It reads more like a collection of recipes than a personal cookbook [1].
So, I decided to start with something a little less… dormouse-y. I went for ‘puls,’ a sort of porridge or polenta, the Roman staple food. Luckily, I found some ancient barley and followed a version, which involved cooking barley in water with herbs, and maybe a dash of olive oil. I won’t lie; it was surprisingly good! A bit bland, sure, but with a generous amount of salt and some fresh herbs, it turned into a surprisingly comforting meal. It’s easy to see why this sustained the Roman legions for so long. It’s rustic, simple, and definitely not gourmet. But that’s the charm, right?
Then came the garum. Oh, garum. This fermented fish sauce was the umami bomb of the Roman world. They used it in pretty much everything. I’ve attempted a very, VERY watered down and modernised version of it. It’s not the real deal, not by a long shot, but it gives me the faintest hint of that distinct Roman flavour profile. You know, I keep picturing those ancient Romans, happily pouring garum over everything, oblivious to the fact that in some two thousand years, people will be making weird, smelly concoctions trying to replicate it.
It’s a wild experience, really, trying to piece together the culinary habits of people who lived centuries ago. It really does make you appreciate the effort and care put into food – whether it’s a simple barley porridge or a complicated multi-dish feast. It’s also humbling, realizing how much of our present food culture owes to the past. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to hunt down a suitable replacement for a dormouse… just kidding. Maybe.
[1] Dalby, A. (2003). Food in the ancient world from A to Z. Routledge.
