Apicius 5.2.1: Lentils With Mussels

(To be fair, I don't think even Martha Stewart's people can get an appetizing photo of lentils. They're just the color of mud, and there's nothing for it.)

This was an odd one I'd been wanting to try. Now, granted spondyli (according to Grocock and Grainger) can mean both 'mussel' and 'artichoke' in Latin and Greek, through some logic I'm not quite following likening both mussels and artichokes to vertebrae (which is what the word originally meant). So it's not outside the realm of possibility that this is supposed to be a lentil and artichoke recipe. Though I'm not sure that's any less weird.

[5.2.1] lenticula ex spondilis siue fondilis: accipies caccabum mundum, adicies in mortarium piper cuminum semen coriandri mentam rutam puleium, fricabis, suffundis acetum, adicies mel, liquamen et defritum, aceto temperabis, reexinanies in caccabo. spondilos elixatos teres et mittes ut ferueant. cum bene ferbuerint, obligas. adicies in boletari oleum uiridem.

5.2.1. Lentils with mussels: take a clean pan, (put the lentils in and cook them). Put in a mortar pepper, cumin, coriander seed, mint, rue, pennyroyal, and pound them. Pour on vinegar, add honey, liquamen, and defrutum, flavour with vinegar. Empty the mortar into the pan. Pound cooked mussels, put them in and bring to heat; when it is simmering well, thicken. Pour green oil over it in the serving dish.

I used frozen mussels, both because that's what the store had, and because I thought it would make it easier to measure the amount of them. I wanted the lentils and mussels to be roughly half each, and wasn't sure how much I'd be getting if I got them fresh in the shell. I could tell they'd been frozen, though, and I imagine fresh ones would have tasted a bit better. But frozen worked perfectly fine, if you can't get ahold of fresh ones yourself.

This is what I tried; as it was an experiment I only made a small amount, just enough for a serving. The rue is not yet up in my garden, so I had to leave it out, though I rather like it. And these days there is some concern about pennyroyal as I've mentioned here before, so I just went heavy on the mint which is related.

1/4 cup lentils (I had the small brown ones)
a few peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon cumin (I had ground)
1/2 teaspoon coriander seed
1 teaspoon dried mint
a dozen mussels
1 1/2 teaspoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1/2 teaspoon liquamen (Thai fish sauce)
1 teaspoon defrutum
olive oil

Boil the lentils in plenty of water, adding more if necessary, until quite soft (about half an hour).

Grind the peppercorns and coriander seed, add the other spices and grind a bit more; then add the vinegar, honey, liquamen and defrutum and mix to a paste.

Boil or steam the mussels for about five minutes if using fresh ones; discard any that remain closed after that time. Remove from the shells and debeard. If using frozen pre-cooked mussels, throw in some water and bring to a boil, then take off the heat (just to thaw and warm them up).

Drain the lentils, then put the spice/vinegar mixture in; put the mussels in the mortar and smash to a paste as best you can (or you can use a food processor). Put in with the lentils and stir it all together.

Drizzle with a bit of olive oil (or mix a bit in), and serve.

These were surprisingly good; the earthy lentils and briny mussels were both strong enough to work well together, and the pepper and vinegar gave it a nice bit of kick. The olive oil was also surprisingly necessary and gave it a bit of a flowery taste (the rue would do so as well). It worked out much better than I'd feared, and I ate the whole thing right up, though I could tell the mussels were frozen as the texture was a bit grainy. It would be better with fresh, I'm quite sure. Still, though, for something that I'd worried would just be weird, it totally worked, and I'll call it a keeper.

Though I do wonder how it would work with artichokes.

Apicius 8.6.8: Coriander Lamb

I got some lamb shoulder chops the other day, figuring I could try something Roman with them, though I wasn't sure what. But browsing through Apicius tonight I found I was missing ingredients for most of the lamb recipes. So I opted for the simplest one, though I know others have done it. It's a quite modern-looking recipe, no elaborate sauces or boiling involved, just lamb rubbed with oil and spices and roasted in the oven. I'll admit it actually felt like kind of a cop-out as it was so simple. But, holy moly, am I glad I tried it.

[8.6.8] hedus siue agnus crudus: oleo piper fricabis et asparges fores salem purum multo cum coriandri semen. in furnum mittis, assatum inferes.

8.6.8. Rare kid or lamb: rub with oil and pepper, and sprinkle plenty of pure salt and coriander seed all over the outside. Put in the oven. Serve roasted.

I assume the original recipe is for a whole lamb, or a roast or somesuch, but like I said I had chops. This is what I did:

2 lamb shoulder chops 3/4 inch thick (together they came to a little under a pound)
1/2 teaspoon peppercorns
1 teaspoon coriander seed
olive oil
salt

Grind the peppercorns and remove to a small bowl, then grind the coriander seed separately. Drizzle a bit of olive oil over the chops, sprinkle about half the pepper over them and rub in; repeat with more oil and the remaining pepper on the other side. Then sprinkle each chop with a generous amount of salt and the ground coriander seeds, getting both sides as well.

Broil 3 inches from the heat for 6 to 8 minutes; turn and broil for another 6 to 7 minutes.

Oh. My. God. Now, maybe, I just hadn't had a lamb chop broiled to perfection for a good long while, and maybe I hadn't had much to eat earlier in the day so was hungrier than usual, but there was no maybe about how unbelievably delicious these were. This was pure Roman hedonism at its most decadent, and I found myself inspired (nay, driven) to eat as the ancients:

Was I compelled to abandon my knife and fork? Did I need to get my face in there to get every last morsel of lamb? Did I then gnaw on the bones? Did I make little whimpering noises while doing so? Did I then go and eat the second chop (the one I'd planned to save for tomorrow) like the slavering sybarite I was? When that was gone, did I then use my fingers on the pan, picking up the littlest crumbs of the spice mix? Did I then lick every last molecule of the stuff off my fingers? Did I, at last, sit down in the chair with a contented sigh, close my eyes and say (out loud) That was a religious experience?

Yes, yes, and HELL YES to all of the above. These were crispy on the outside, and just pink enough on the inside, and the spices were absolutely wonderful. I'd been (as usual) wary about getting too much pepper in there but let myself go for once; once it's cooked it's a lot less spicy, so it was fine (in fact feel free to use more). And the coriander gave it a lovely lemony sort of taste, that, wow. The key, though, and the original recipe is quite clear, is to make sure to be generous with the salt. The salt is really what makes it.

OH MY GOD it was REALLY freakin' good. Honestly, that photo up there (which came out kinda nice for once) is making me all misty-eyed with longing and regret that it's All Gone. I simply must have more.