#ancient cooking

[copperbadge]

I was just browsing Apicius, like you do, looking for a recipe, when I came across this recipe for stewed flamingo, which was funny but not unexpected, until "parrot is prepared in the same manner" took me out at the knees.

[timetraveltasting]

BABYLONIAN KANASU STEW (c. 1740 BC)

It's been rainy today, and this calls for a warm meal. Today, it is another Tasting History dish: Ancient Babylonian Kanasu Stew (c. 1740 BC), a lamb stew from the era of King Hammurabi of Babylon (known for issuing the Code of Hammurabi, one of the earliest and most complete written legal codes, which established "an eye for an eye" justice). This recipe is one of about 35 different recipes inscribed in cuneiform script on clay tablets found in the Yale University Babylonian Collection. Written in Sumerian, these tablets are among the earliest known cookbooks in history, and would have been used in the temple kitchens to make dishes for royal banquets and religious festivals. While ingredients and some cooking techniques are listed, precise measurements and step-by-step instructions are not included, as it was assumed the cooks already knew how to fill in the blanks. The meanings of some of the Sumerian ingredients listed, particularly kanasu, samídu, and šuhutinnu, are not yet completely clear, as scholars have not agreed upon their definitive definitions. For the purposes of this recipe, kanasu is translated as emmer flour, and samídu and šuhutinnu stand for a root-style vegetable, in this case interpreted as leek. These interpretations of Sumerian words, as well as the specific ratios of ingredients and cooking methods, are, of course, up for debate. Still, the combination of ingredients sounds like it would be delicious, and I absolutely loved the last Mesopotamian dish I made from Tasting History, so I was excited to try this one too. See Max’s video on how to make this dish here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.

My experience making it:

As I usually do, I halved the recipe - this time because my husband was not home for dinner, and I was worried to have too much as leftovers. The fat I used was olive oil, just because it was what I had on hand. For the meat, I secured two lamb shanks, already de-boned, from the local butcher. Otherwise, I used the same ingredients listed in the recipe, including the emmer flour, which I had to go to a special Bio-grocery store to purchase.

I began by preparing all of the ingredients ahead of time: measuring out all the ingredients and chopping those that needed it. By accident, I chopped the whole leek, including the dark green parts at the end, and I used them for the stew as well, even though Max mentions only to use the white and light green parts. My mistake! I ground up the whole coriander seeds and cumin seeds with a mortar and pestle, which smelled divine! Coriander is such a wonderful, fragrant, and tasty ingredient. Next, I got out my large pot, warmed some olive oil, then added the lamb chunks in, turning to brown them on all sides before removing them and setting them aside in a bowl to add back in later. The lamb had left behind some extra grease, so I added more of the olive oil to this, then fried the shallots in it. I sprinkled a bit of the salt on them and stirred them around as they bubbled and seared. It smelled great, and I could see the shallots caramelizing just slightly. As they began to leave a brown residue stuck to the bottom of the pot, I added in half the water, and scraped the bottom of the pot to loosen the residue, deglazing the pot. The residue and fried shallots gave the water a cloudy, light brown colour, similar to beef broth. I stirred in the rest of the olive oil required, then also the salt, ground cumin seeds, and ground coriander seeds. Then, I poured in the rest of the water and whisked in the emmer flour well so that there were no clumps. It was beginning to look like a cloudy soup. Bringing the pot to a light boil, I added the lamb back in, then also the garlic. Turning the heat to low with the lid on, I let it simmer for half an hour, going back to check on it and stir every ten minutes or so. While stirring is not mentioned in Max's recipe, it really did need it, otherwise the emmer flour goop would accumulate along the edges of the pot. I did not add any extra water, because I wanted a thicker stew consistency in the end, instead of a soup consistency.

After 30 minutes had passed, I added in half of the leek and most of the mint, then I let the stew simmer without a lid for 10 minutes. This was what caused it to thicken to a proper stew consistency. Once the 10 minutes had passed, I stirred in the remainder of the leek, then ladled the stew into two bowls (one dinner-sized one for me, and a small snack-size one for my husband to have when he got home later). I was surprised that halving the recipe did not produce two serving portions, as it usually does when I halve Max's Tasting History recipes. For this recipe, I wish I had made the full amount. I used the rest of the mint to garnish the stew on top, along with a pinch of whole coriander seeds (these are fairly strong in taste, so it is important not to add too many). The stew looked very much like a classic winter soup or stew, with the green leeks bringing some much needed colour to the mostly brown broth and meat. It smelled of fresh herbs and spices, which made sense, since it contained both!

My experience tasting it:

I made sure my first spoonful contained a bit of lamb, a bit of leak, a bit of mint, some broth, and a couple whole coriander seeds. The flavour was fantastic! So hearty, warm, savoury, and somehow also fresh-tasting. I was surprised to discover that the lamb was perfectly tender; I thought stew meat normally needed a much longer cooking time to achieve this. What a pleasant texture! The leeks were also nice, as they varied in amount of crunch depending on how long they had been in the stew. The shallots blended almost seamlessly into the brown broth, but it was clear they added a lot of flavour. Most of all, I was impressed with the fresh and zingy taste of the coriander, and partially the cumin and mint. All of them together brought a wonderful freshness to the stew, which otherwise would probably feel heavy and too fatty. Another surprise for me was how well the emmer flour worked to thicken the stew. The texture was silky, and coated my spoon well. I've never used emmer flour before, so I was not sure if it would be easy or difficult to work with. I loved this recipe as much, if not more than the previous Mesopotamian recipe I made, Tuh'u. After finishing the Kanasu Stew, I immediately wrote out the recipe on a card for my recipe book. My husband, when he tried it later, also really liked it and asked if I could make it again sometime, and I undoubtedly will! This recipe is a true winner, and I'm excited to share it with family and friends. If you end up making this dish, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!

Kanasu Stew original recipe (c. 1740 BC)

Sourced from a recipe from the Yale Babylonian Tablets (c. 1740 BC) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.

Kanasu Stew Leg of mutton is used. Prepare water, add fat. Samídu; coriander; cumin; and kanasu. Assemble all the ingredients in the cooking vessel, and sprinkle with crushed garlic. Then blend into the pot šuhutinnu and mint.

Modern Recipe

Based on a recipe from the Yale Babylonian Tablets (c. 1740 BC) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.

Ingredients:

2 tsp coriander seeds, plus a little more for garnish

1 tsp cumin seeds

3 tbsp (45 g) fat*

1 1/2 lbs (680 g) lamb meat**, cut into bite-sized pieces

1 large shallot, minced

1 quart (1 L) water

1/4 cup (30 g) emmer flour

2-3 cloves garlic, crushed

1 small leek

A handful fresh mint

1 tbsp salt

*A popular fat at the time would have been from fat-tailed sheep, so if you can get it, use it. Tallow, butter, lard, sesame oil, and olive oil are all period-accurate options.

**You could use any cut you like, but shank or shoulder will be the most tender. Pre-cut stew meat would also work well.

Method:

In a mortar, grind the coriander seeds and cumin seeds into a powder.

In a large pot, heat 1 tablespoon of the fat over high heat, then once it’s hot, add the meat. Let it cook for a couple of minutes, then move it around and continue to cook until it has browned a little. Remove the meat from the pot and set it aside.

Add another tablespoon of fat to the pot. Reduce the heat to medium and add the shallots and a pinch of the salt. Stir to coat the shallots in the fat, and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes, or until they’re nice and fragrant.

Add half of the water and scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Bring it to a simmer, then stir in the remaining fat, letting it melt if it’s a solid. Once it’s melted, stir in the ground coriander and cumin along with the rest of the salt. Whisk in the rest of the water and the emmer flour. Once all is uniform, bring the stew up to a boil and stir in garlic and meat.

Reduce the heat to medium-low and let it come back to a simmer, then cover it and let it cook for about 30 minutes. Check on it every once in a while and add more water if you want a thinner soup-like consistency.

While the stew cooks, chop the mint and the white and light green parts of the leek. I like to wash leeks before and after chopping them to be sure to get rid of any bits of dirt or sand stuck between the layers.

After the stew has cooked for 30 minutes, remove the lid and stir in about half of the leek and most of the mint. You want to save a little of the mint for garnish. Let the stew cook without the lid for about 10 minutes, or until it has thickened however much you like.

Stir in the rest of the leeks, then serve it forth with a little mint and whole coriander seeds for garnish.

[incognito-princess]

So I'm doing a thing. I was watching about a place in France that's an experimental archaeology site building a 13th century castle. The historian on it was talking about cooking in one show and she parboiled, roasted, and then fried a pork roast. It has been living in my brain rent free since I saw it, so I decided to try it. I made a really flavorful broth and boiled a pork tenderloin (and my house smells amazing!). Now I'm "roasting" it. (Yes I know that roasting is technically over an open flame and an electric oven is actually 'baking' it. I don't care.)

[classicsstudentsunion]

Ancient Recipes: Apricot Dessert (Apicius, De re coquinaria)

Did you know when you Google Apicius, they call him a professional chef?

Given that he was the closest thing Ancient Rome had to Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart, we guess it makes sense. These apricots are a fantastic dessert from De re coquinaria (c. 5th cent. CE), arguably the best-known Ancient Roman cookbook. They likely would have been enjoyed at room temperature, but taste fantastic after being chilled. We make this at every rendition of our Ancient Food Day, and it's always a hit.

Latin: duracina primotica pusilla precoquiis purgas, enucleas, in frigidam mittis; in patina conponis; teres piper mentam siccam; suffundis liquids; adicies mel passum uinum et acetum; refundis in patina super precoquia, olei modicum mittis et lento igni ferueat, cum ferbuerit, amulo obligas, piper aspargis et inferes. (De re coquinaria, 4.177)

Translation (by John Liao): Wash firm, early or small apricots, pit them, and put them in the cold [water]. Arrange them in a pan. Crush pepper and dried mint, pour over liquamen and add honey, passum, wine and vinegar. Pour over the apricots in the pan. Add a little oil and heat on a low flame. Thicken [the sauce] with starch while it simmers. Sprinkle with pepper and serve. 

Ingredients

10-12 apricots (pitted and halved if fresh, rehydrated in water overnight if dried)

1 ½-2 tbsp freshly cracked black pepper (plus extra for garnish)

1 tbsp dried mint flakes

1 tsp garum/liquamen (substitute fish sauce if you can't find/make it yourself)

3-4 heaping tbsp of honey

3/4 cup of red wine

3/4 cup of passum (also known as raisin wine. Substitutes can include cranberry juice (less sweet), grape juice (more sweet), or ice wine (if you don’t have to make this for a school event).

1 tsp of vinegar (2 tsp if you're not using passum/alcoholic passum substitute)

1 ½ tbsp of olive oil

½ tsp corn starch

3-4 tbsp cold water

Our Recipe

Soak halved, pitted fresh apricots in cold water for 15 minutes (skip if using rehydrated fruit)

In a wide pan (at least 3 inches deep), lightly toast the black pepper and mint at medium heat until fragrant.

Add the liquids: honey, passum, wine, vinegar, and liquamen. Bring to a simmer and stir until well incorporated, and the honey has dissolved. Continue simmering to cook off the alcohol. If the mixture begins to reduce too much, add water in small amounts.

Once the desired amount of alcohol has been cooked off, add the apricots. Continue simmering until apricots reach your desired texture (usually 8-12 mins).

Remove the apricots from the pan. Mix cornstarch with cold water into a slurry, and add to the remaining liquid. Stir and cook until thick, then pour over reserved apricots. Let cool.

Serve chilled or at room temperature, with fresh black pepper sprinkled on top.

Below, we served them with libum (Roman cheesecake) and statites (Ancient Greek spelt crepes).

Some more anachronistic ways to serve this can include using it as pie or tart filling, mixing it with Greek yogurt, or serving it with vanilla ice cream while it's still hot (sort of like a poached pear situation).

Some FAQs

Q. "How long do I actually boil the sauce?"

A. As long as you want, depending on how much alcohol you want in the dish (we serve these at school events, so we have to boil it to hell and back to get rid of all the alcohol).

Q. "The ancient recipe says to cook the apricots first, why do you make the sauce first?"

A. When we tried the apricot-first method, the apricots fell apart and turned the whole thing into a jam-like stew because of how long we had to cook the sauce. It tasted great but lacked the nice texture of the whole apricots.

Q. "Can I substitute ingredients 1-1?"

A. Generally, yes. For our passum substitute, we use cranberry juice for its tartness, but any of the three substitutes work. However, if you have the ability to make/buy garum and passum, definitely give it a try!

[the-world-that-was]

11th century Byzantine honey cakes

Today, I'll be taking a look at a medieval Byzantine honey cake - which itself is based on an earlier Greek iron-age cake, amphiphon. This is going to be a light, fluffy cake with a rich, honey flavour!

In any case, let's now take a look at the world that was! Follow along with my YouTube video, above! If you like what you see, consider supporting me over on Patreon!

Ingredients

1 cup flour

3/4 cup butter

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup walnuts

salt

orange rind

1 - Cream the Sugar and Butter

To begin with, toss about 3/4 of a cup of room-temperature butter into a mixing bowl. Into this, place about 3/4 of a cup of sugar. Mix everything together using a wooden spoon, smearing the butter into the sugar along the side of the bowl. Do this until it takes on a rich, creamy texture. At this stage, beat three eggs into the mixture, taking care to mix them all thoroughly before progressing!

2 - Add Dry Ingredients

Next, toss in about a cup's worth of plain flour, along with a pinch of salt. Mix this together into a smooth batter. If it's looking a little dry, add a tiny splash of milk to rehydrate it a little.

When the whole thing is combined, and still sticking to the side of the bowl, toss in about a half a cup of roughly crushed walnuts. While it's stated that walnuts are served alongside this dish, it's likely that they would have also been baked into the cakes, which help soften the nuts.

3 - Prepare Tin

Using the butter wrapper, grease a baking tin. While metal tins were likely used in late antiquity/the early medieval period, stoneware would have also been widely used! The original recipe doesn't seem to discuss baking instruments, so I opted for using a shallow square dish.

When it's been greased sufficiently, grate the rind of an orange into the dish. Though oranges and lemons were seemingly grouped together as "citron" in antiquity, we can assume that cooks would have known the difference between the two. So, I used an orange, as it pairs nicely with the honey and the walnuts here.

4 - Bake

When the tin is prepared, pour your batter into the dish. Make sure it's spread evenly across it, so it all bakes at the same rate. If you want, you can dust the top of your cake with ground cinnamon. Keep in mind that this will brown faster than your cake will, so it may look burnt in the oven, but really it will only be barely cooked!

Place your tin into the centre of an oven preheated to about 350F or 175C for about a half an hour, or until the edges of your cake have browned and turned crisp!

5 - Finish Cake

Take it out of the oven when it's done, and let it cool to room temperature. But before it's fully cooled, pour a good amount of honey over the whole thing! This will let the whole cake become infused with the sweetness of the honey!

When the cake has fully cooled, cut it into segments, and serve up with some walnuts!

The finished cakes are wonderfully light and sweet! The caramelised orange rind on the base gives a wonderful zesty kick to the honey taste. The cake rises a fair bit due to the number of eggs used, but retains a great airy texture.

[letsgostealthelouvre]

No wonder this lion is sad, he’s gotta sit on his nose all day. Drink up, get the poor lion some relief!

[Description: A large drinking vessel with a handle on one side; the side of the cup shows a naked man, draped in a strip of cloth, mid-dance. The base of the cup is a lion’s face, sculpted so that when it’s set down it’s resting on the lion’s nose, chin, and open mouth, tongue extended. I wonder if someone on Etsy is selling mugs like this.]

[richo1915]

[greek-mythos-retold]

I may hate seafood, but mark my words, one day I will try garum just to understand why those funky Romans practically made it a whole food group