and the exquisite delicacy of its flesh deserve. Carried in cages
composed of precious wood, it adorned the triumphal march of Ptolemy
Philadelphus, at his entry into Alexandria.[XX-9] Ptolemy Evergetes,
successor to that prince, caused pheasants to be sent from Media, which
he destined for his aviary; and he never eat them, so much did he dread
the idea of diminishing their number.[XX-10] But, alas! custom and time,
those jealous enemies of the greatest glories, eventually put an end to
that. The unfortunate creature was stripped of its feathers and roasted;
gluttony, an insatiable monster that never says “enough,” rejoiced at
being able to count it among the number of its conquests. The Greeks had
coops for pheasants as we have for fowls, not to please the eye, but to
ornament the table,[XX-11] and a foolish prodigality caused a whole
pheasant to be served to each guest in those luxurious repasts which the
Athenians gave to display their pomp and ostentatious
hospitality.[XX-12]
Among the Romans, Pliny is the first (or we are mistaken) who mentions
this bird, then very uncommon in Italy, since they went in quest of it
to the banks of the Phasis.[XX-13] Its rarity did not prevent Vitellius
from having a _ragoût_ of pheasants’ brains,[XX-14] mixed with other
viands of an unheard-of delicacy, in the immense dish called by him “the
Shield of Minerva.”[XX-15]
Pertinax willingly partook of pheasant, but on condition that they cost
his miserly sensuality nothing. Heliogabalus would only eat them three
times a week. Alexander Severus reserved them for solemn
occasions.[XX-16] They were sacrificed each morning to the statue of
Caligula,[XX-17] at the foot of which the vile troop of courtiers
prostrated themselves at the very time even when Cæsar, in a fit of
sanguinary monomania, wished that the Roman people had but one neck,
that he might sever it at a blow.[XX-18]
It is especially from the commencement of the 14th century that the
pheasant, better appreciated in Europe, has resumed in banquets that
remarkable place,[XX-19] constantly assigned to it throughout this new
era, in which our taste maintains it, and from which our posterity will
never remove it, if they inherit that wonderful sentiment of the good
and beautiful which so eminently distinguishes the epicures of the
present day.
Let us add, for the comfort of weak stomachs, that the medical light of
Pergamo--the illustrious Galen--recommends them the use of the flesh of
pheasants;[XX-20] that he prescribed it for himself, and found it a most
delightful remedy.
“Mingrelia, or the antique Colchis, is the cradle of pheasants, that
species of birds being stronger and finer there than anywhere else, but
it is seen, however, all over Europe, in Africa, and Asia, even in the
cold countries of the north. This beautiful bird forms an article of
commerce with the Chinese, who sell them frozen in the market of
Kiakta.”--SONNINI.
THE PARTRIDGE.
The Greeks and Romans were acquainted with partridges, and eat
them.[XX-21] The red, at first very rare in Italy, were, however,
advantageously replaced by the white, which true amateurs procured at a
great expense from the Alps.[XX-22]
The Athenians were fond of seeing them fight, and raised them for this
cruel sport.[XX-23] Alexander Severus also sought in these sanguinary
struggles relief from the cares of royalty.[XX-24]
Aristippus, a more humane, perhaps a more luxurious, philosopher, gave
as much as fourteen shillings for a fine fat partridge,[XX-25] which,
passing from the aviary to the kitchen, escaped the fatal vicissitudes
of a desperate combat.
In Greece, people who knew how to enjoy life thought much of the leg of
this warlike bird.[XX-26] It was fashionable not to touch any other
part. At Rome, when politeness was not of so much consequence, they
sometimes ventured on the breast. We, barbarians, eat the entire
partridge.
THE QUAIL.
The dead may be raised by the means of a quail, said the ancients. Now
for the proof: Hercules having been killed in Lybia, Iolaüs took one of
these birds, which fortunately happened to be at hand, and placed it
beneath his friend’s nose. The hero no sooner smelt it than his eyes
opened to the light, and Acheron was forced to give up his prey.[XX-27]
The learned Bochart denies this prodigy.[XX-28] He affirms that Hercules
was subject to epileptic attacks, and that, during a fit, they caused
him to smell a quail, whose odour quickly cured him.[XX-29]
The Phœnicians insisted that he was quite dead, and they all cried
out, “A miracle!”[XX-30] The reader must decide between them and
Bochart.
In the Desert the Israelites fed on quails;[XX-31] and this food,
reserved for them by Divine goodness, caused no discomfort among the
fugitive tribes. The Greeks served them on their tables with
partridges:[XX-32] they raised them in aviaries, and eat them all the
year round.[XX-33] Aristotle speaks most highly of them, and does not
attribute to them any dangerous property.[XX-34] However, quails were
banished from all Roman tables: they were no longer carefully
fattened:[XX-35] they were cursed, and accused of causing epilepsy in
those who partook of their fatal and seductive flesh.[XX-36] The
authority of Galen confirmed this strange prejudice,[XX-37] and these
innocent birds, having lost all reputation in Italy, no doubt easily
consoled themselves for the happy ostracism which delivered them from a
too expensive glory.
At all events, it is probable that Rome had wickedly calumniated quails;
two skilful men, devoted to the cause, undertook to defend them: they
were called Hippolochus and Antiphanus.[XX-38] Their eloquent pleadings
caused a sensation; the epicureans were moved, and some of these birds
were recalled, fattened, and roasted.
Quails, like cocks and partridges, seem born to fight to excess.[XX-39]
The Grecians encouraged their warlike ardour, and threw them into the
arena, where they contemplated their furious attacks with as much
pleasure as they experienced at the sight of gladiators murdering each
other in order to amuse them.[XX-40] Solon--the wise Solon--required
that young men should be trained to courage at the school of these bold
champions, and learn from them to despise danger, pain, and
death.[XX-41] We know that sensibility was little thought of in the plan
of education formed by the great legislator. Long after him, however,
the Areopagus gave a dreadful proof of this, by condemning to death a
little boy who had amused himself by pulling out the eyes of all the
quails unfortunate enough to fall into his hands. This precocious
monster was too promising.[XX-42]
THE THRUSH.
The immortal author of the Iliad did not disdain, it is said, to compose
a poem in praise of thrushes. These verses were so beautiful that the
Greeks learned them all by heart in their infancy.[XX-43] The singular
love of the ancients for this bird renders these poetical honours
tolerably probable. More than once Comus has borrowed the lyre of
Apollo.
In Greece, children were not allowed to eat thrushes, because it was
feared that their delicious flesh might cause them to contract too early
habits of gluttony and effeminacy. Young girls received them as presents
from their betrothed on the day of their marriage.[XX-44] They were
served at the most sumptuous feasts,[XX-45] and Attica enriched with its
gold the bird-catchers of that Daphne,[XX-46] so celebrated for her
luxury and scandalous voluptuousness.
Rome inherited this gastronomic rage. One of Varro’s aunts reared
thrushes in the country, and sold 60,000 of them every year, to the
numerous epicures of the metropolis of the world. She derived an immense
revenue from this speculation.[XX-47] Magnificent aviaries were soon
seen in all rich Roman villas; they were filled with thrushes; and the
multitude of these birds became such that they furnished a plentiful
manure for the land.[XX-48] They were fed on crushed figs, mixed with
wheaten flour; they had also millet, add great care was taken to
preserve in the aviary a current of fresh and pure water to slake their
thirst.[XX-49] On days of triumph and rejoicing, a dozen of these
tempting thrushes cost no less than twenty-seven shillings.[XX-50]
On those solemn occasions more than one generous citizen, consulting his
prodigality more than his purse, ruined himself[XX-51] for love of his
guests. More than one obsequious dependant spent his last sesterces in
composing ingenious crowns of thrushes,[XX-52] which his haughty patrons
deigned to receive as a homage. It is true he was sometimes allowed to
become a spectator of the repast which his gift was to
embellish[XX-53]--certainly a most flattering recompense for his
gratitude and servility!
DESCRIPTION OF PLATE No. IX.
VARRO’S MAGNIFICENT AVIARY.--Adjoining his villa was a part of the
house called the Ornithon, or the Aviary, of which some ruins are
still remaining, between the two small rivers Vinius and Casinus,
but can hardly be made out. More, perhaps, was in existence when
the famous architect and antiquarian, Pierre Ligorio, drew the plan
and profile more than 200 years ago. This drawing of Plate IX. is
conformable with Varro’s own description, who says that: “At the
entrance there are two porticoes, or two large cages (in the Plate
these are omitted for want of space); they are buildings with
colonnades all round, on the top and sides there are nettings
spread to prevent the escape of the birds. The entrance to the
yards is between the two pavilions; two basins, long and wide, are
alongside of the court-yard on the right and left of it; from them
you pass to the grand double colonnade, the first circumference of
which is of stone, and the second of pine; the distance from each
other is five feet, and the whole of this middle space is filled
with birds, which are prevented from escaping by small fillets all
over the top and sides. There are, between the columns, like a
small theatre, rails, like steps, put forward for the birds to
perch upon. There are birds of various species, particularly
singing birds, such as nightingales and blackbirds; a small canal
supplies them with fresh water, and they are fed from under the
netting. Facing the pedestals of the column is a stone, raised one
foot nine inches above the quay, and that is elevated two feet
above the level of the water; its width is five feet, to enable the
visitor to walk round. At the lower part of the quay, on the
water-side, there are holes practised where the ducks can retire.
In the centre of the large basin, about 200 feet in diameter, is a
small island, bordered by a small colonnade, under which Varro
treats his friends; in the middle, a round table, which a servant
turns on a pivot, so that in succession the guests are supplied
with dishes, plates, cups, and goblets. There is seen also an
hemisphere, where the star Lucifer turns in the day, and Hesperus
at night; both mark the hour, and are variable; on the same
hemisphere the winds, to the number of eight, are marked with a
hand that is always moving as the wind changes, the same as the
clock of Cyprestus, at Athena.”
The drawing of this Aviary is beautiful. It appears that Pierre
Ligorio followed Varro’s description; at all events, the drawing of
this Plate perfectly agrees with it.
[Illustration: _Pl. 9._]
Heliogabalus eat only the brains of these birds.[XX-54] This dish
appeared to him most excellent, for it was very costly.
The extreme delicacy of this volatile, which poetical connoisseurs have
celebrated in their verses,[XX-55] recommends it to those with weak
stomachs and to convalescents. Pompey being ill, his physician ordered
him a thrush, but it was impossible to find one in Rome. Some one
advised the celebrated general to apply to Lucullus, who fattened them
throughout the year. “What,” cried Pompey, ill-humouredly, “shall I have
to thank Lucullus’s pompous luxury for life!” He refused to eat the
thrush, and he recovered.[XX-56]
THE BLACKBIRD.
What has been already said of the thrush precludes the necessity of
writing much on the blackbird, for both these kinds of birds were
equally dear to the gastronomists of Greece and Italy.[XX-57] They were
fattened in the same manner,[XX-58] served on the same tables. The
blackbird, in fact, like the thrush, re-established the strength and
health of the rich.[XX-59] The poor were compelled to have recourse to
less expensive remedies.
“The flesh of the blackbird, so delicate in the time of gathering
grapes, acquires at that period a savour which makes it as precious as
the quail, but becomes bitter when they feed on the juniper berries, the
ivy, or other similar fruits. Some medicinal properties are attributed
to it; the oil in which the blackbirds have been cooked is recommended
to persons afflicted with sciatica: and the soil of these birds,
dissolved in vinegar, is, we are informed, a certain specific for
removing the freckles of the face or spots on the skin.”--VIEILLOT.
In 1468, Louis XI. ordered one of his authorised ruffians, named
Perdriel, to seize all the tame blackbirds he could find in Paris. These
poor birds were sent to Amboise, where a register was kept of what they
said or sung. It appears that the king intended to punish those citizens
of his capital who taught these innocent volatiles to repeat abuse of
the sovereign, after which he would have wrung the necks of the too
intelligent birds. Louis XI. could not carry out this singular idea,
because he himself was shortly after the Duke of Burgundy’s prisoner at
Péronne. Blackbirds and citizens had a narrow escape.[XX-60]
THE STARLING.
Drusus and Britannicus, sons of the Emperor Claudius, had a starling
which spoke admirably the Greek and Latin. Alone he studied his lessons,
and afterwards recited them to the astonished princes.[XX-61] Science
protected the learned bird from the fate reserved by the Greeks and
Romans for the rest of its family, less distinguished by their erudition
than by their culinary qualities. Starlings, roasted in the kitchens,
honourably associated with partridges, blackbirds, and thrushes,[XX-62]
and the disciples of Galen recommended them to their patients, who
willingly submitted to so nourishing and light a food.[XX-63]
THE FLAMINGO.
A profound study of the art of good cheer caused the Romans to discover
that the thick tongue of the phenicopter, or flamingo, presents towards
its root a rather considerable adipose appendage. They tasted this lump
of fat, and Rome was enriched with another dish.
It has been asserted that the glory of inventing this refinement in
gluttony is due to Apicius. Italy possessed three gastrophiles of this
name: the first flourished a short time before the dictatorship of
Julius Cæsar; the second, Marcus Gabius, held a school of sensuality at
Rome, under the reigns of Augustus and Tiberius; the third, Cælius, was
contemporary with Trajan, and poisoned himself for fear of dying of
hunger.
We possess, under the name of this last, a Latin work in ten books, from
which we have borrowed largely, as the reader may have already remarked.
It would be difficult to decide to which of the three Apicii it belongs.
The author speaks of the flamingo, but does not mention its tongue: the
treatise, then, is not the work of M. Gabius, who would doubtless have
indicated the preparation of a dish of which Pliny assures us he was so
fond.[XX-64] As to Cælius, if he were the compiler of this
[Illustration: _Pl. 10_]
curious volume, as it is thought, how comes it he has forgotten a dish
so justly celebrated, in this magiric catalogue, in which no detail,
however minute, seems to escape him? It would appear that this contested
paternity rightfully belongs to the first Apicius, unless some of the
learned contest it on the ground that the style of the work nowise
agrees with the latinity of his century.[XX-65]
May one of the learned societies of Europe some day take up this arduous
question, and restore the ancient masterpiece to its admirable author.
In the meantime the writer of the present work will continue to venerate
the memory of Cælius Apicius, and offer him crowns of smallage, roses,
and parsley, for his name embellishes the frontispiece of those pages
which reveal to us the secrets of Roman cookery; and we repeat, with
Sosie:--
“Le véritable Amphitryon
Est l’Amphitryon où l’on dine.”[XX-66]
Honour is due also to the other Apicius for his ingenious sauce of
flamingo tongues. True, we have never tasted it, for this expensive
fancy can only be satisfied in the marshes of the Nile.[XX-67] It is
still little known in Europe, but the most fastidious of the Romans
regaled themselves with it.[XX-68] Three Emperors, Caligula, Vitellius,
and Heliogabalus--immortal triumvirate of incomparable
polyphagists!--carried to indigestion their gastronomic delirium, their
love for this famous _ragoût_.[XX-69] These great authorities are
conclusive.
The traveller, Dampier, wished to try the flesh of the flamingo, and he
thought it very good, though lean, and very black.[XX-70]
“The flesh of the phenicopterus is a dish more sought after in Egypt
than in Europe; however, Catesby compares it for its delicacy to the
partridge; Dampier says it has a fine flavour, although lean; Dutertre
finds it excellent notwithstanding its marshy taste; the tongue is the
most delicious part.”--VIEILLOT.
FIG-PECKER, OR, BECAFICO.
The Duke of C---- had received from nature one of those culinary
organizations which the vulgar assimilate with gluttony, and the man of
art calls genius. Greece would have raised statues to him; the Roman
emperor Vitellius would have shared the Empire with him. In France he
gained the esteem of all parties by inviting them to sumptuous banquets.
This rich patrician brought up with tender care a young _chef de
cuisine_, whom his _major-domo_ had bequeathed to him on his death-bed,
as Mazarin did Colbert to Louis XIV. The disciple profited by the
learned lessons of the Duke; already the young _chef’s_ head, eye, and
hand possessed that promptitude and certainty whose union is so rarely
combined: there remained for him only the instruction of experience.
One day, in the month of September, some guests of the highest class,
all professed judges in the order of epicureans, met together at the
residence of the noble Amphitryon, who often claimed the authority of
their enlightened judgment. The learned Areopagitæ had to pronounce on
certain new dishes: it was necessary, by dint of seduction, to captivate
the favour and patronage of these judges by disarming their severity.
Everything was served to the greatest nicety, everything was deemed
exquisite, and they only awaited the dessert--that little course which
causes the emotion of the great culinary drama to be forgotten--when the
young _chef_ appeared, and placed in the centre of the table a silver
dish, containing twelve eggs. “Eggs!” exclaimed the Duke. The astonished
guests looked at each other in silence. The cook took one of the eggs,
placed it in a little china boat, slightly broke the shell, and begged
his master to taste the contents. The latter continued to remove the
white envelope, and at length discovered a savoury and perfumed ball of
fat. It was a fig-pecker of a golden colour--fat, delicate,
exquisite--surrounded by a wonderful seasoning.[XX-71]
The good old man cast on his pupil a look full of tenderness and pride;
and, holding out his hand to him: “You are inspired by Petronius,” said
he; “to imitate in such a manner is to create. Courage! I am much
pleased with you.”
This classic dish--a revival from the feasts of Trimalcio--enjoyed only
an ephemeral glory. Europe was on fire; a warlike fever raged
everywhere; and Paris soon forgot the eggs of Petronius.
The fig-pecker merits the attention of the most serious gastronomists.
The ancients reckoned it among the most refined of dishes.[XX-72] The
Greeks made delicate pies of this bird, which exhaled an odour so
tempting, that criticism was disarmed beforehand.[XX-73]
The Romans gave it their entire esteem,[XX-74] and prepared it with
truffles and mushrooms.[XX-75] Among them, men who knew what good cheer
means, thought there was nothing worth eating in birds but the leg and
lower part of the body. Fig-peckers were the only exception to this
rule: they were served and eaten entire.
“In the southerly parts of France, and in Italy, all the different
species of linget, and almost all birds with a slender beak, are
commonly called becafico, because in the autumn they attack and eat the
figs, and thereby the flesh of these birds becomes then fat and
exquisite; but that really known as the becafico is remarkable for its
delicacy; therefore it has at all times been _recherché_ as an excellent
eating. It is like a small lump of light fat--savoury, melting, easy of
digestion; and, in truth, an extract of the juice from the delicious
fruits it has fed upon.”--_Vieillot._
THE ORTOLAN.
Florence and Bologna sent to Rome cases of ortolans, the enormous price
of which irritated instead of discouraging gluttony.[XX-76] They arrived
in the metropolis of the world, picked and separated one from the other
by layers of flour to prevent decomposition.[XX-77] Each of these little
birds furnished only a mouthful; but this incomparable mouthful eclipsed
everything else, and produced a sort of epicurean extacy which may be
called the _transcendantalism_ of gastronomy.
Ortolans were submitted to the same treatment as fig-peckers in their
preparation.
THE OSTRICH.
There were tribes formerly in Arabia who fed on ostriches, and who for
this reason were called strutiophagists.[XX-78] Marmot asserts that, in
his time, they were eaten in Africa, although their flesh was glutinous,
and had a bad smell. When the people of Numidia took any that were
young, they reared and fatted them, and led them to feed by flocks in
the Desert; and as soon as they were fat they killed and salted
them.[XX-79]
The Arabs of the present day abstain from them; but it is said they seek
much the fat, which they use plentifully in cooking.
They were served at Rome on a few tables. This was nothing but a
depravation of taste.
Heliogabalus, who understood good living better, contented himself with
the brains of ostriches. Six hundred of these animals furnished enough
for one meal.[XX-80] The devastation was great, but the emperor had made
a good supper.
The ostrich’s eggs are very hard, very heavy, and very large; their
weight often equals three pounds. The colour is of a dirty white, with
light yellow veins; they are good to eat. In Africa they are sought
after as a _friandise_, and cooked in various ways. The commonest and
the best is, after breaking, to mix and cook them with a good deal of
butter. They are large enough and sufficient for a man’s meal.
When the Arabs have killed an ostrich they open its throat, and make a
ligature under the opening; three or four men take the bird, and shake
it, the same as rincing a pouch; after which, the ligature being undone,
a considerable quantity of a greasy substance comes out, mixed with
blood and fat as thick as coagulated oil. One ostrich produces as much
as twenty pounds of it, and it is used for the preparation of dishes,
for the cure of rheumatism, _humeurs froides_, and paralysis. The Romans
used this grease for the same purposes, and believed it possessed the
most precious qualities.
THE STORK.
In spite of the religious respect of the Romans for this bird, the
emblem of peace[XX-81] and domestic virtues, Sempronius Rufus, an
ancient prætor, caused his cook to dress some young storks; and this
brought into fashion[XX-82] a dish which caprice alone could introduce
at feasts.[XX-83]
THE SEA-SWALLOW.
Among the ancients, the swallow--joyous herald of spring--possessed
little attraction for those men whom their gluttony has rendered so
justly celebrated. Alas! they knew not the “Salangan swallow,” _hirundo
esculenta_; they never tasted those birds’ nests which Europe still
envies the East.
The inhabitants of the Philippine Islands give the designation of
salangan swallow to a little coast bird (the halcyon, or kingfisher),
celebrated for the singular construction of its nest. These nests have
been compared to those which the Greeks and Romans called halcyon’s
nests; but this comparison is false, since the marine productions to
which they gave this name are not birds’ nests but polypus’s, or the
cylindrical covering of the polypi--the _halcyonium_--a kind of
medicament, of which there were several varieties.[XX-103]