was forbidden because it did not ruminate.[XVI-147] However, at the
siege of Samaria, the Jews were compelled to eat it for want of other
food. The famine was such, that the head of an ass was sold for eighty
pieces of silver.[XVI-148]
The Roman peasants thought the flesh of the young ass had a very
agreeable taste,[XVI-149] and regaled themselves with it at their rustic
festivals. The celebrated Mecænas one day tasted of this dish at the
house of one of his free slaves; he spoke of it with much praise, caused
it to be served on his own table, and even succeeded in introducing it
on those of the great and rich, who gave up the onager, or wild ass,
which they had hitherto preferred, to humour this illustrious favourite.
But this new gastronomic conquest had only a short vogue; and was
forgotten after the death of Mecænas.[XVI-150] Galen tells us that the
cooks of Alexandria thought much of the ass,[XVI-151] whose flesh, he
says, much resembles that of the stag.[XVI-152] Still, this great
physician disapproves of the use of this food, which he considers
unsuited to mankind.[XVI-153]
It is asserted, even at the present day, that the flesh of the young ass
is a pretty good dish; we have heard, but we hardly can repeat it, that
much is consumed in the _guinguettes_ round Paris, where the artless
customers are far from thinking that anything else but veal can be
served to them.
The modern restaurateurs of the Barrières of Paris, have, perhaps, read
the biography of Mecænas, and endeavour to render popular the dish so
honoured by the celebrated favourite. Who can blame them?
THE DOG.
We must beg pardon of the reader for informing him that the dog
presented a very relishing dish to many nations advanced in culinary
science. To them, one of these animals, young, plump, and delicately
prepared, appeared excellent food.[XVI-154]
The Greeks, that people so charming by their seductive folly, their love
of the arts, their poetic civilization, and the intelligent spirit of
research presiding over their dishes--the Greeks (we grieve to say it)
ate dogs, and even dared to think them good: the grave Hippocrates
himself--the most wise, the least gluttonous, and therefore the most
impartial of their physicians--was convinced that this quadruped
furnished a wholesome and, at the same time, a light food.[XVI-155]
As to the Romans, they also liked it,[XVI-156] and no doubt prepared it
in the same manner as the hare, which they thought it resembled in
taste.[XVI-157]
However, it is but right to add, that this dish, which we will not even
hear mentioned, was never favourably received by the fashionable portion
of Roman society, and that the legislators of ancient gastrophagy even
repulsed it with disdain.
There is every reason to believe that the people regaled themselves with
a roast or boiled dog, especially once a year, at the period when they
celebrated the deliverance of the Capitol from the siege of the Gauls.
It is known that, at this solemnity, a goose, laid on a soft cushion,
was carried in triumph, followed by an unhappy dog nailed to a
cross,[XVI-158] whose loud cries greatly amused the populace. In this
manner they commemorated the signal service rendered by one animal, and
the fatal negligence of the other. The Gauls scaled the Capitol while
the dogs slept, and Rome had been lost if the deafening cries of the
geese had not given an alarm to the garrison, who, it must be allowed,
should have kept better watch.
The quadrupeds last mentioned are the only domestic animals of the kind
used as food by the ancients. The chase afforded them several others,
which we shall mention, after having just glanced at the poultry--one of
the most interesting divisions in natural history for the serious and
reflective appreciator of gastronomic productions.
XVII.
POULTRY.
The air is less dense than the earth, said Aristotle; poultry ought,
then, to stand higher in estimation than quadrupeds.[XVII-1] It is, adds
Galen, the lightest and best of all aliments.[XVII-2] After this, would
any one dare to accuse of sensuality those who, wisely following the
diet recommended by these great men, prefer a fat capon or delicate
fowl, to heavy, common butcher’s meat?
Our masters, the ancients, have left us fine examples on this head. In
vain did impertinent sumptuary laws, enemies of progress, strive to
repress the luxury of the farm-yards. These precautions on behalf of
abstinence against the magiric genius were unceasingly met by a
resistance, as energetic as it was truly Roman. Fannius, Archius,
Cornelius, could make martyrs; but let us say, with pride, good cheer
never had cause to envy them deserters and apostates. One of these
tyrannical decrees was just published; a tribune of the people, a man of
heart and taste, undertook to have it repealed. He courageously mounted
the rostrum, and cried, with an inspired voice: “Romans! you are treated
like slaves. By the gods! what can be more strange than the new law?
They would force you to sobriety, whether you will or no! They would
impose temperance on you! Ah! renounce this pretended liberty, of which
you are so jealous, since you are no longer allowed to ruin yourselves,
each one according to his fancy, or die of indigestion if you please.”
This discourse was received as it deserved to be, and unanimous applause
proved to the orator that he was addressing men capable of understanding
him. But, alas! this excellent tribune had a dangerous enemy: the
censor, Lucius Flaccus, a sort of fanatic teetotaller and carniphobis of
that time, had sufficient credit to cause this worthy citizen to be
driven from the senate. But Rome revenged him by devouring more poultry
than ever.[XVII-3]
In the early ages of the Church, poultry in general was regarded as a
food for fast days; and this opinion was founded on the text in Genesis,
where it is said that birds and fishes were created on the fifth day,
whereas quadrupeds were created on the sixth.[XVII-4]
St. Benedict, in his rule, does not formally forbid the monks any other
flesh than that of quadrupeds; and St. Columbanus, in his, permits the
monks the flesh of poultry, in default of fish. The Greek monks ate it
down to the 10th century.
THE COCK.
An object of divine worship in Syria,[XVII-5] the cock was considered by
almost every nation as the emblem of vigilance and courage.[XVII-6]
Thus, heathen antiquity consecrated it to the god of battles.[XVII-7]
Themistocles, marching with his army against Xerxes, King of Persia, met
with some cocks fighting furiously; he made his troops halt, that they
might observe them, and he then addressed a spirited discourse to them
on the subject. He conquered, and on his return to Athens, desired that
every year a cock-fight should commemorate his victory.[XVII-8] These
cruel games soon spread throughout Greece, and feathered champions were
reared with great care, and obtained at a high price from Rhodes,
Bœotia, Mela, and Chalcis.[XVII-9]
Italy also wished to enjoy this barbarous pastime. At Pergamus, any
spectator might throw a cock into the arena, and a prize was awarded to
the lucky possessor of the bird who remained master of the field of
battle.[XVII-10]
This warlike bird has never enjoyed a high culinary reputation;
nevertheless, it was eaten when old, that is to say, at that period of
its life when its flesh, hard, fibrous, and tough, possesses neither
juice nor flavour--then this wretched food was left to those among the
common people who joyously feasted in the drinking-shops of Rome. They,
however, always avoided making fricassees of white cocks, because they
were consecrated to the month, and proclaimed the hours.[XVII-11]
THE CAPON.
The cock being banished from the table of all respectable people, the
necessity of dressing hens became evident, for it was necessary to live.
Now, you are aware that there are two sorts of hens; one sort
consumptive looking and tough, the other tender, plump, and before which
an epicure banishes every other thought, and sighs with pleasure. These
last were preferred, and, in order to render them more worthy of the
voluptuous epicures for whom they were intended, they learned from the
inhabitants of the island of Cos the art of fattening them in dark and
closed places, with certain wonderful pastes, which increased their
delicacy and tempting whiteness.[XVII-12]
This ingenious invention belonged to Greece and Asia. Rome possessed
herself of it, and even improved it; but soon the constant tyrant of the
kitchen, the Consul, C. Fannius, who thought bad what others thought
good, and who pretended that in consequence of the immense consumption
made of them, the result would be that not a living hen would be left in
the empire, ordered that for the future the Romans should dispense with
fattening and eating this delicious winged animal.[XVII-13]
Fortunately, the law said nothing about young cocks; this silence saved
Roman gastronomy, and the capon was invented.[XVII-14] It is not
necessary to relate with what transports of delight this new creation
was greeted; it will be easily understood. Rome was moved; the famous
Greek cooks, who consecrated their science to _her_, were on tip-toe.
Everywhere, from mouth to mouth, spread the name of the skilful
enchanter, who could in such a manner metamorphose the clarion of the
farm yard. Fannius, himself, it is said, wished to be assured of the
truth of the prodigy: he was served with a roast capon, and the praises
he bestowed on it were assuredly the triumph of the bird, of epicures,
and of art.[XVII-15] From this remarkable epoch, nearly all chickens
underwent the ingenious transformation which rendered them so welcome to
all Lucullian tables;[XVII-16] and it caused such a destruction of
birds, that the consul repented, but too late, that he had only named
hens in his sumptuary law.
_Capon à la Déliaque._--Draw completely a fat capon; then bruise pepper,
alisander, and ginger, which you must mix with sausage-meat and fine
flour, and a pig’s brains cooked; add some eggs, then some garum, a
little oil, whole pepper, and several pine nuts. Make a stuffing of this
mixture, and put it into the capon, which afterwards roast before a slow
fire.[XVII-17]
THE HEN.
The cackling of hens infallibly announced, among the ancients, some
dreadful calamity to the person who had the misfortune to hear
it.[XVII-18] This fatal omen must have rendered a great number of people
unfortunate; for whether she lays eggs, or conducts her young family, a
hen generally cackles.
They therefore sought to diminish the number of these birds of ill-omen;
they fattened them for eating, and they did right, since, according to
learned physicians, the flesh of these birds is good for weakly persons,
as well as those who are convalescent.[XVII-19] Healthy individuals also
find this food suit them perfectly. In Greece there would have been
something wanting at a feast, if fat hens had not been served. They
embellished the celebrated wedding repast of Caranus; and Athenæus often
speaks of them when describing a grand banquet.[XVII-20]
At Rome, the art of fattening them became a serious occupation, which
was long studied, and had its precepts and rules. Marcus Lœlius
Strabo, belonging to the order of knights, invented aviaries in which
hens were confined;[XVII-21] others sought and discovered the means of
giving to their flesh that particular flavour unperceived by
uncultivated palates, but which the experienced gastrophilist always
appreciates. They patiently gave themselves up to laborious experiments:
a warm, narrow, dark spot received these interesting _volatiles_; the
feathers of their wings and tails were plucked, and they were gorged
twice a day during three weeks with balls of barley flour mixed with
soft water. Great cleanliness was combined with this diet: their heads
were well cleansed, and care taken that no insect should enter the
aviary.[XVII-22]
Afterwards barley flour, kneaded with milk, was preferred; then, instead
of milk, water, and honey were employed. Excellent wheaten bread, soaked
in good wine and hydromel, was also used with success.[XVII-23]
Skilful breeders by these means obtained magnificent hens of an
incredibly exquisite flavour, and which weighed no less than sixteen
pounds.[XVII-24]
The Fannian law unfortunately came, and, as we have before observed,
brought impediments to these beautiful results by interdicting aviaries
and skilfully prepared pastes. It is true that this law allowed a
farm-yard hen to be served at every repast[XVII-25]--_mais une poule par
jour est-ce contentement?_ It became necessary, then, to have recourse
to a _mezzo-termine_, which was discovered in the capon. But the
favourite dish forbidden by the consular authority was not altogether
abandoned: some faithful epicureans always possessed in the shade
well-furnished aviaries; and it was even then, we are assured, that Rome
and the universe were enriched with the _poularde_.[XVII-26]
_Poularde à la Viminale._--Cook a fine hen in its gravy; pound and mix
benzoin, pepper, oil, and garum, a little thyme, fennel seed, cummin,
mint, and rue; stir for a long time; add some vinegar; pound some dates,
and mix them with honey and a little vinegar. Of all this make a
homogeneous seasoning, and pour it on the hen when it is cold.[XVII-27]
THE CHICKEN.
It is certainly surprising that a people so serious as the Romans
generally were, should make the success of the greatest enterprise
depend on the appetite of their famous sacred chickens. They were
brought from the Island of Negropont, and were kept shut up in cages;
their guardian was designated by the name of Pullarius.[XVII-28]
Publius Claudius, constrained to consult these strange prophets before
engaging in a naval combat, ordered them to be fed; they refused to open
their beaks. The incredulous general ordered them at once to be thrown
into the sea, and laughingly exclaimed to the dismayed Pullarius: “Since
they will not eat--well! then let us make them drink.”[XVII-29]
Diodorus of Sicily, and some ancient writers, tell us that the
Egyptians, from a remote period, hatched chickens in ovens. This process
is decidedly of the highest antiquity, and was applied to the eggs of
all kinds of poultry.[XVII-30] In the last century, Réaumur tried
various experiments, and recovered this art, which was thought to have
been lost; others again have followed the steps of this skilful
observer, and, at the present day, obtain the most satisfactory results.
Chickens have ever been considered an estimable food, and hardly yielded
to the two glories of their family--the fattened hen and the
capon.[XVII-31] The Greeks served them at all their feasts of ceremony,
and the Romans granted them a distinguished place among the dishes of
the second course.
_Apician Macedonia of Chicken._--Chop small the meat of a chicken, which
mix with a kid’s breast, and put it into a saucepan with parsley seed,
dried pennyroyal, dried mint, ginger, green coriander, and raisins; then
add three pieces of the finest oaten bread, some honey, vinegar, oil,
and wine; some time after, add some excellent cheese, pine nuts,
cucumbers, and dried onions, well chopped. Pour some gravy over the
whole, and when it is cooked, surround the dish on all sides with snow,
and serve.[XVII-32]
_Parthian Chicken._--Open the croup dexterously, and put it in the
saucepan; then mix some pepper, alisander, a little carrot, garum, and
wine; fill the chicken with this seasoning; cook well, and sprinkle with
pepper before serving.[XVII-33]
_Numidian Chicken._--Begin by boiling a chicken for some time; then
place it in a stew-pan, after having sprinkled it with benzoin and
pepper. Afterwards bruise some pepper, cummin, coriander seed, benzoin
root, pine nuts, rue, and dates; add honey, vinegar, garum, and oil;
boil, thicken with fine flour, sprinkle with pepper, and serve.[XVII-34]
_Chicken à la Frontonienne._--Half cook a chicken, and then put into the
saucepan garum, oil, a bunch of dill, some leeks, winter savory, and
green coriander. You then sprinkle with pepper, and serve.[XVII-35]
_Chicken à la Cœlienne._--Cook a chicken with garum, oil, wine,
coriander seed, and onion. Then put some milk and a little salt into
another saucepan, with honey and a little water, and cook this mixture
over a very slow fire. Throw in by degrees some raspings of sweet
biscuits, and take care to stir continually. Put the chicken into this
sauce, and then serve with a seasoning of pepper, alisander, and wild
marjoram, mixed with honey and cooked vine, which must be boiled and
thickened with fine flour.[XVII-36]
THE DUCK.
The duck swims so well it was thought to be paying a compliment to
Neptune by sacrificing it to him.[XVII-37] The god of the seas never
found fault with this offering.
Attica and the whole of Greece sought the beautiful ducks of
Bœotia,[XVII-38] and that province was always found to have supplied
a larger number than it reared. It is true the poulterers of Athens,
banishing all scruples of conscience, rarely failed to satisfy their
customers as to the doubtful origin of a white _nêssa_ (duck), by taking
Neptune to witness that it was a pure Bœotian, a real duck, as they
said emphatically, of that species so much appreciated by connoisseurs.
Future _quidnuncs_ will examine whether the friendly duck of the English
and the political and literary _canard_ of the French have, or have not,
found their way from Greece, after wandering a little on the road.
There were ducks at that prodigious dinner of the opulent Caranus, of
whom we have already spoken several times. They were always served at
the tables of the rich Greeks;[XVII-39] and Archigenes reckons them
among the viands which agree best with the stomach.[XVII-40] Cato was of
the same opinion; and, if we are to believe Plutarch, he made them the
food of those of his family who were ill, and boasted of maintaining his
children, servants, and himself in perfect health, by the aid of this
diet alone.[XVII-41] It was the same idea that made Mithridates mix the
flesh of ducks with all he ate, as an antidote against poison, which he
feared.[XVII-42]
Hippocrates evinces a contrary opinion. The flesh of this bird seemed to
him hard, heavy, and indigestible.[XVII-43] Avicenna goes still further:
he threatens all who eat it with fever.[XVII-44] The Romans were no more
frightened than the Greeks at the decision of the father of medicine.
Lentulus, one of the high magiric authorities of Rome, ordered that the
duck should figure in the most honourable manner at the brilliant feast
of which Macrobius has preserved us an account.[XVII-45] It must,
however, be remembered that polite people, who observed the forms and
usages of society, only offered to their guests the breast and head of
this biped; the remainder returned to the kitchen.[XVII-46]
_Ducks’ Brains à l’Epicurienne._--Cook some ducks’ brains, and mince
them very small; then place in a saucepan, with pepper, cummin, benzoin
root, garum, sweet wine, and oil; add milk and eggs, and submit the
whole to the action of a slow fire, or rather, cook them in a
_bain-marie_.[XVII-47]
_Apicius’s Seasoning for a Roast Duck._--Make a mixture of pepper,
cummin, alisander, mint, stoned raisins, or Damascus plums; add a little
honey and myrtle wine; place it in a saucepan; cook, and then add to
these substances vinegar, garum, and oil; afterwards some parsley and
savory; serve with the roast duck.[XVII-48]
THE GOOSE.
When a flock of geese are obliged to pass Mount Taurus--the dreaded
abode of their enemies, the eagles--each of them takes the precaution to
hold a stone in its beak, in order that he may keep a profound silence,
which, otherwise, his natural loquacity would render
impossible.[XVII-49] This, if true, would justify Aristotle in
attributing foresight to the goose;[XVII-50] a quality which Scaliger
also claims for this bird.[XVII-51]
The ancients highly esteemed its flesh. Homer[XVII-52] and
Athenæus[XVII-53] speak with praise of the fat geese and goslings which
the Greeks ate.
The Egyptians served them at their meals every day; it was, with veal,
the favourite dish of their monarchs,[XVII-54] and they did not forget
to offer some to King Agesilaus, when he was travelling through the
country.[XVII-55]
Some eastern nations were impressed with such deep veneration for this
bird that they swore by nothing else.[XVII-56] The Britons honoured it,
and forbad all persons to do it the least harm.[XVII-57] It remained for
Queen Elizabeth to prove, at her joyous dinners of the 29th September,
that tastes and usages are modified by time.[XVII-58] And moreover, many
centuries before, her ancestors had been greatly wanting in respect
towards a particular kind of goose, which they roasted without any
ceremony.[XVII-59] A well-deserved sentiment of gratitude rendered them
dear to the Romans: their noisy clamour had formerly saved the
Capitol.[XVII-60] They became for them, as for the Egyptians,[XVII-61] a
symbol of safety, and were reared, both in town and country, to guard
the houses.[XVII-62]
Those which were kept, out of gratitude, in the Capitol, were
consecrated to Juno, Isis, Mars, and Priapus,[XVII-63] and every year
one of them was chosen for the brilliant and solemn ceremony we have
already mentioned.[XVII-64]
But, alas! time obscures and effaces all the glories of this world; and
that of the Roman geese, no doubt, had to submit to this sad
fate,[XVII-65] for they were eaten at least a century before the time of
Pliny. Unfortunate bird! Yes, a perfidious art fed them delicately in
the shade, in convenient aviaries, where nothing was wanting for their
comfort, and at the end of a few days the poor victims made but one step
from this dangerous retreat to the place of execution.[XVII-66] The
Emperor Alexander Severus became so fond of this dish, that on his great
festival days they served him with a goose and a pheasant.[XVII-67]
Nothing, in his estimation, could equal the exquisite flavour of these
two birds.
The luxurious Romans, however, neglected the entire animal, and thought
only of the liver. They invented the art of fattening this viscera, and
of increasing its size to such an extent that it often weighed two
pounds. To obtain this result, they simply fed their victims of
sensuality, during twenty days, with a paste of dried figs and
water.[XVII-68] As soon as the goose was killed, the liver was put to
soak in milk and honey.
It is not known exactly to whom we are to attribute this gastronomic
discovery. Scipio, Metellus, and Marcus Sejus disputed the glory of the
invention.[XVII-69] At all events, it is certain that the same method
was used in Greece as in Italy; that white geese were chosen in
preference,[XVII-70] and that the fat livers were served roasted, or
fried in the frying-pan, and enveloped in the _omentum_, a membrane
which we term the caul.[XVII-71] Pliny assures us that Apicius found
means to increase livers to a monstrous size,[XVII-72] which almost
equalled in weight the whole body of the animal.[XVII-73]
The wings and neck of the goose also acquired some favour; the feet were
added, when Messalinus had taught how to peel them by passing them
rapidly over the fire, and then preparing them with cocks’ combs. The
remainder was only good for the common people.[XVII-74]
Stuffed goslings also enjoyed a reputation among the Greeks,[XVII-75]
who fattened them by giving them, three times a day, during a month, a
mixture of bran and flour, moistened with hot water (two parts of flour
and four parts of bran); but, if Palladius is to be believed, it is much
better to feed them solely with millet, and as much water as they may
require.[XVII-76]
_Sejus Seasoning._--Bruise pepper, alisander, coriander, mint, and rue;
mix with it garum and a little oil; pour it over the roast goose, and
serve.[XVII-77]
_Apician Seasoning for a Roast Goose’s Liver._--Crush in a mortar, and
then well mix, pepper, carrots, cummin, parsley-seed, thyme, onions,
benzoin root, and fried pine nuts; add honey, vinegar, garum, and oil,
and serve with the roast liver in the omentum.[XVII-78]