APICIUS 6.8.1: Chicken With Uncooked Dill Sauce

Not-quite-as-horrible-as-usual photo I think; I think my lovely new (repro) Samian ware dish helps.  (Seriously though, my pictures are crap at least partially because I'm always making these in the evening and photographing them by artificial light.)  I am forever embarrassed by my lack of photography skills.  I have a degree in art, dammit!

I have this crazy dream of trying all the recipes in Apicius. It's an especially crazy dream because I., there are an awful lot of recipes in Apicius, II., some of them are fragmentary and/or garbled, III., there are plenty of foodstuffs that are difficult to find here in the US, IV., actually some of them are extinct, and V., some of the ingredients I simply refuse to eat (e. g., brains).

I wasn't entirely sure where to start with this goal; I've been wanting to get a good overview of Roman cooking, and pecking around at random wasn't really doing that.  So I picked one type of dish and decided I'd do the recipes in order, hoping that will help me get a feel for them.  A lot of the recipes do follow one from the other, with only one or two ingredients that differ, and I thought it would be interesting to highlight those differences.  There do seem to be certain 'types' of recipes in Apicius.

I picked the chicken dishes to start with, as that's certainly an easy ingredient to come by.  And the first one is (text and translation from Grocock and Grainger, as ever):

[6.8.1] elixo ius crudum:  adicies in mortarium aneti semen mentam siccam laseris radicem; suffundis acetum, adicies careotam, refundis liquamen senapis modicum et oleum, defrito temperas et sic mittis.

6.8.1.  Uncooked sauce for boiled chicken:  put dill seed, dried mint, and laser root into a mortar, pour on vinegar, add date, pour on liquamen, a little mustard and oil, flavour with defrutum and use as it is.

This recipe is unusual, not just because the sauce isn't cooked, but because there's neither pepper nor lovage in it, which is pretty much mandatory for the chicken dishes.  It seemed to me that the main flavors in this dish ought to be the dill and the vinegar, since those two pair well and the dill was a bit uncommon for Apicius; and since there wasn't much liquid in it otherwise it seemed it would have to use a decent amount of vinegar.  Though to be fair, the Romans probably were able to use their liquamen, fermented fish sauce, rather more liberally; I'm using Thai fish sauce, which is made by a similar process, but is much, much saltier, so you can't use too much.  I ended up adding a little of the cooking liquid to make up for that.  And as usual I used asafoetida for the extinct laser (silphium) root, though it was the powdered resin/sap, not the root part of the plant.

My attempt:

1 chicken breast

2 teaspoons dill seed
1/2 teaspoon dried mint
scant 1/4 teaspoon powdered asafoetida
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons chopped date
1 teaspoon Thai fish sauce
1/4 teaspoon powdered mustard
2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon defrutum

Plunk the chicken breast in a saucepan with water to cover; bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer.  Simmer until cooked through; depending on the size something like 20 or 30 minutes should do it.

While that cooks, grind the dill seeds in a mortar (or use a spice grinder); when they're fine enough (that will be up to your tastes and how tired your arm is), add the mint and grind that too.  Add the powdered asafoetida, then the vinegar and date.  Squish that all up until you get a fairly smooth paste, then add the remaining ingredients.  Add a teaspoon or two of the cooking liquid if you think it needs it‑it should be a little thinner than barbecue sauce, but not too thin.

Drizzle the sauce over the cooked chicken when done, or shred the chicken and use as a dipping sauce.

When I tried the sauce by itself in order to try and balance the flavors, I was worried it might be too heavy on the vinegar; however once paired with the chicken the flavor of the chicken itself balanced it out.  A lot of times I think I get the sauces too thick (again, that might be because of the difference in salt between Roman liquamen and modern Thai fish sauce), but this time I think it was about right.  I only used one date, but since I had Medjool dates it was very large (which is why I gave the amount for chopped), and it may have made the sauce a bit too sweet.  Also I think I'd like to have been able to taste the dill more.  It was still quite good, though, and I think just needs a little tweaking.  Also I wonder if grinding the dill seed, and then soaking it in the vinegar (say the night before), would help to draw out the taste a bit.  I know there's all kinds of herb-flavored vinegars out there that use that principle.

I used the usual supermarket boneless skinless chicken breast; and while I kept an eye on it as it simmered it was still a bit dry and bland.  Perhaps thighs would be better; I know when I make chicken and dumplings I use boneless skinless thighs and they end up melty and lovely and still quite moist.  At any rate this was just a test, a single serving.  I would like to someday try all these recipes again using whole chickens, like the Romans did.

Overall though I am pleased with this, so I'll put it in the keeper pile now on the Recipes page.

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 3.13.1: Sweet Cumin Turnips

(Okay, my photography skills are pretty much crap, which is especially embarrassing because I actually have a degree in fine arts, though obviously photography was not my major.)

So, when I was a kid I hated turnips. But then there was this recipe in Apicius that sounded interesting, and well, I am a grown-up now. And since I hated them as a kid I pretty much hadn't had them since I was a kid, and tastes change...

Alas, not really. Even with the honey and the defrutum sweetening it up, I didn't really care for it. But maybe other people like turnips, so I'll publish this anyway. And this recipe might work with butternut squash, so. Not that that's Old World.

[3.13.1] rapas siue napos elixatos exprimes. deinde teres cuminum plurimum rutam minus laser Particum mel acetum liquamen defritum et oleum modice; feruere facies et inferes.

3.13.1. Squeeze the water out of boiled turnips or swedes. Then pound plenty of cumin, a little rue, Parthian laser, honey, vinegar, liquamen, defrutum and a little oil. Bring to a simmer and serve.

The local supermarket didn't have any turnips, so I got a rutabaga, thinking it was the same thing. Apparently it isn't, being a cross between a turnip proper and maybe cabbage; though as they are also called swedes I guess that works with the recipe too.

Here's the recipe; as it's still winter out there, I didn't have any rue available and left it out.

1 rutabaga
2 teaspoons cumin (I used ground, because that's what I had)
1/2 teaspoon asafoetida
4 tablespoons honey
4 teaspoons vinegar
1 teaspoon liquamen (Thai fish sauce)
1/2 cup defrutum
2 teaspoons olive oil

Peel and cube the rutabaga and then boil forever until it's reasonably softened up. When it's done, drain and mash it a little to get the extra liquid out (though I found it didn't really need it). Throw the rest of the ingredients in the saucepan, and heat to a simmer; mix the rutabaga back into the pan and heat it through.

The sauce to this was perfectly nice and quite sweet, but no, I think I just don't care for turnips (or rutabagas). So now I don't know if this should go in the keepers or not; someone who likes turnips might think it's a great thing to do with them. Anyone care to give it a try and let me know?

Defrutum

I made another batch of defrutum last night, the flavored grape syrup used in Roman cooking; though I've made it before I don't think I've given instructions for it here. It's pretty much the same as the instructions for caroenum, just boiled down a little more, and with some fruit added for richness. I made this batch with some figs, and started with purple grape juice this time as it has a richer flavor than white.

In Apicius 2.2.8 a couple types of defrutum are mentioned, including:

...defrutum made from quinces that has been left in full sun until it is as thick as honey. If you don't have any of this add a defrutum which has been made from dried figs, which the Romans call 'colouring' [colorem]...

Defrutum could also have spices added to it, according to G&G; they list 'sweet rush, iris, and fenugreek'. 'Sweet rush' is Acorus calamus, according to Wikipedia; it says the dried rhizome (root, more or less) could be ground up and used as a substitute for ginger, nutmeg, or cinnamon, so I'm assuming it has a similar sweet flavor. The roots are used in herbal medicine, so it is available, though the FDA hasn't approved its use in food, as they consider a chemical in it carcinogenic. I'm not sure what is meant by 'iris'; that could be anything, really, though sweet rush is also called sweet flag from what I gathered, and is iris-like, especially in the sword-shaped leaves. Fenugreek could be the seeds or the leaves, though the seeds are certainly easier to come by around here.

Anyway, here's the very simple instructions for fig defrutum:

1 64 oz bottle unsweetened purple grape juice (I used Welch's; the store brand being noticeably more watered-down to start with)
8 dried figs

Empty the grape juice into a large soup pan; then slice up the figs and throw them in. Heat to a boil and let it do that until it is reduced to about a third of its original volume. Let cool a bit, then strain out the figs; when pouring it into a bottle you may want to run it through a sieve as well, to get any of the tiny fig-seeds out. Store in the fridge.

Apicius 8.6.6: Lamb in Caroenum Sauce

I figured it was time to try some lamb (it was on sale). Poking around in my copy of Apicius this one looked interesting:

[8.6.6] hedus siue agnus syringiatus (id est mammotestis): exossatur diligenter a gula sic ut uter fiat et intestina eius integra exinaniantur ita ut in caput intestina sufflentur et per nouissimam partem stercus exinanibitur. aqua lauantur diligenter et sic inplentur admixto liquamine et ab humeris consuitur et mittitur in clibanum. cum coctus fuerit, perfunditur ius bulliens: lacte piper tritum liquamen carenum defritum modice sic et oleum, et iam bullienti mittis amulum. uel certe mittitur in retiaculo uel in sportella et diligenter constringitur et bullienti zemae cum modico salis summittitur. cum bene illic tres undas bullierit, leuatur et denuo bullit cum humore supra scripto. bulliente conditura perfunditur.

8.6.6. Hollowed-out kid or lamb (that is, swollen-skinned): carefully bone the carcass from the neck end so that it is like a bag. The entire intestinal tract should be emptied out in this way: blow into the intestines at the top end so that that excrement is expelled from the very bottom. It is washed carefully with water and filled with liquamen, the lamb is sewn up at the shoulder and put in the oven. When it is cooked this boiling sauce is poured on: milk, ground pepper, liquamen, caroenum, a little defrutum, a little oil too, and when it is boiling add starch. Or alternatively it is tied up carefully, put in a net or basket and lowered into a pan of boiling water with a little salt. When it has come to the boil well and truly three times, it is taken out and boiled once more in the sauce written above. Then pour the boiling sauce over it.

Since I was just making a single chop I was able to (thankfully) skip a lot of that; the "boiling" sauce sounded simple but interesting, and I had both the caroenum and defrutum on hand. Here's what I came up with:

1 lamb chop (I used a shoulder arm chop)
about a dozen peppercorns, ground (more or fewer to taste)
1/4 cup whole milk
1/4 cup caroenum
2 tablespoons defrutum
1 teaspoon liquamen (Thai fish sauce)
1 teaspoon olive oil
corn starch or other thickener

Put a little olive oil in a pan and heat on medium high; put in the lamb chop and cook about three minutes per side or until done.

Mix all the other ingredients save the starch in a bowl. When the lamb is cooked drain the rendered fat if there's a lot, and pour the milk/caroenum mixture into the pan. Deglaze the pan and bring the sauce to a gentle boil, then thicken with a little starch. Serve with the sauce poured over the chop.

I opted to pan-fry the lamb both because it was a single chop rather than an entire freakin' lamb, and because boiling and lamb don't generally go together unless you're making a stew.

This was quite interesting; the caroenum was a bit tart but still quite sweet, and gave it a rich red color; as there were no spices in it save the ubiquitous pepper, the grapey flavor of the syrups was the main flavor, which was definitely a bit strange to my modern palate. Grapes don't get used much like that. Roman food reminds me a bit of Japanese food, where on the whole there's a little sweetness in everything, even the savory dishes.

It was good though, if unusual, and I'll put it with the keepers as the flavors were quite nicely balanced, though there was rather a lot of sauce to it. If you try it you might want to make two chops with the same amount of sauce instead of just the one.

In other news, I made another batch of the marinated mushrooms, this time with the caroenum made from the fresh grapes. It was a lot more interesting and rich than the versions I'd made with the caroenum from store-bought grape juice. That may be my favorite recipe so far, though it's one of the simplest ones.