Herculaneum Found and Apicius’ Partridge in Berry Wine Sauce

John Martin’s Destruction of Pompeii, 1822 

It was August 79AD in a resort town called Herculaneum sitting on the left side of the Italian boot’s ankle (about 143 miles south of Rome –– that’s about a week’s journey by horse).

Bacchus with Agathodaemon and Vesuvius from the House of the Centenary, 2nd century BC

The town had been created in the shadow of the ancient volcano Vesuvius; a volcano that had been dormant for 800 years –– so long that the inhabitants of surrounding towns no longer considered it dangerous. Rather, it was thought of as generously benign since it was covered in lush and fertile soil –– a handsome detail in the landscape until the summer of 79. 

 

The Last Day of Pompeii, Karl Brullov, (1830-33)

The myth has always been that the city was taken unawares by the cataclysm. New evidence suggests this is not the case at least in Herculaneum – there were warnings. Pliny the Younger  (61-113 AD) who witnessed the disaster from across the Bay of Naples, reported that earthquakes had shaken the area with considerable force before the volcano erupted, causing many to flee. Many in Pompeii didn’t heed the warning earthquakes and doubled down on sacrifices to angry gods. The gods did not listen – they never do.

I.C. Dahl, Vesuvius (1826)

Contemporary accounts of the event described a pillar of ash that flew straight up into the sky, rising to 20 miles high. When it hit the tropopause, Pliny the Younger told the historian Tacitus  that the pillar’s top then spread out creating a stone pine tree shape at which point it lost cohesion and it began to rain debris and dust.

Some people escaped leaving their valuables behind, probably imagining they could return after the storm had passed. Tragically, others stayed too long with their valuables or thought they could pinch a few juicy items on their way out of town – big mistake.

The Moregine Silver Treasure – some of the cups would have been antique in 79AD

A hoard of silver, later known as the Morefine Treasure, was found in Herculaneum in a basket stashed in a public bath, perhaps stolen from vacant mansions by a foolish lingerer. The rich hoard did him no good, his roasted bones were found beside his treasure.

Some trusting inhabitants remained in Herculaneum only to be incinerated in the middle of baking bread or plastering a wall but many did get away with their treasures. There weren’t as many bodies as there were in Pompeii. Aside from the warning earthquake, the other reason for this is what fell on the two cities and when.

Vesuvius from Portici, Joseph Wright of Derby (1774-6)

Pompeii was destroyed by rocks and superheated blasts –– Herculaneum got a warning shot in the form of a dusting of harmless ash before the destructive pyroclastic surges.

Herculaneum, although closer to the volcano, was fortunate in that way –– the super-heated pyroclastic flow actually gently covered the city so that the wood is preserved –– charred of course but still recognizable as tables, doors and screens –– all buried under 60 feet of hardened ash (also why most of the city has yet to be uncovered).

Wooden screen (behind protective glass)

Even delicate screens have survived in the airless world for nearly 2000 years. Unfortunately opening it up has started the disintegration clock ticking again.

Let's not forget color.  Rome loved color, especially those heavenly reds.  Sometimes spare and elegant, other times lush and richly figured.  Art was everywhere even in middle-class houses.

Even marble statues were gently colored making them far more human and less cold than we imagined.

The streets were not drab either.

Artist’s rendering of ancient Roman city, Pompeii De Agostini Picture Library/Scala, Florence

Herculaneum was a prosperous Roman resort town with businesses and private houses on pleasant main streets that had covered sidewalks (without carts or wagons allowed—perhaps to keep animal waste to a minimum?). 

Herculaneum bath, Deposit photo

There was a public water system with aqueducts from the mountains for fountains, drinking and baths that were taken daily at public bathhouses. 

Public fountain encouraging hair washing!

There was even a sewer system so that streets did not flow with human waste as they did in Pompeii (although the Romans did wash their clothes with fermented urine/ammonia that was collected and taxed!).

Water was important in Herculaneum, it was a feature of upper-class dining rooms, often flowing into pools or into dancing fountains that would have been an elegant touch at a Roman dinner party –– baths were often located in rooms adjoining the dining room so you could warm up or cool off after a large meal perhaps?

Neptune and Amphitrite room

Closeup of the Neptune and Amphitrite mosaic

The most famous dining room of Herculaneum, the dining room of Neptune and Amphitrite is missing many pieces of sculpture and reliefs that had originally been there because it was one of the first areas to be excavated in the 18th century and was plundered under orders of the King of Naples. You can only imagine how splendid it must have been when it was new.

Feasting in Pompeii on triclinium

Trinclinium Dining

Dining was done pretty much lying down. Romans did not sit at a table to eat, some people sort of half-sit on one arm, or are prone leaning on one arm or lie on their stomachs, propped up on both arms on giant pillows.  I would imagine it would get terribly uncomfortable in a short time.

Reproduction of triclinium

The dining room was known as a trinclinium, usually with 3 couches around a table. Larger houses had multiple dining rooms for large or intimate dinners that usually had a bath nearby.  The smaller dining room was called triclinium minus.  What they ate is will surprise you.  Because Herculaneum was protected for nearly 2000 years, some of their food was preserved, most famously their bread.

Still Life of bread and figs from Pompeii

Carbonized loaf from Herculaneum 

Herculanum had many bakeries (there were 30 bakeries in Pompeii). Dozens of carbonized loaves still exist (80 loaves still in a single baker’s oven). The bread was cut into 8 slices (the ring around the loaf may have been a string baked with the bread to make it easier to carry the loaf). The bread was made from mostly Enmer wheat but could have been spelt or millet or a combination (all of these grains have been found at the bakeries). Wheat bread seems to have been the likely choice for bread as the area was famous for its wheat.

There were classes of bread. The rich ate ’white’ bread without much bran that was ground twice and well sifted, the poorer classes ate pane puero and pane cibarium that was full of bran but hard on the teeth. Inhabitants had bad teeth not just from crunching the bran but also from bits of the millstone that had broken off into the flour. It was not sifted as well as the rich folks bread flour would have been. The same was true in England up through the 19th century. Only now is whole wheat really better for you and not dangerous to eat!

Bread stall in Pompeii

Bakeries didn't just bake the bread, they also ground the grain in some of the bakeries.

A wooden beam would go through the holes in the mill and animals or slaves would walk it around to grind the grain that was poured in the top

Sewer in Herculaneum

Clues to the composition of the local diet have been discovered though seeds and bones that remained inside or beside human remains but the discovery and subsequent investigation of the cities' sewage tunnels have led to a flood of new findings thanks to groundbreaking new techniques and old fashioned painstaking sifting and cataloguing. The diet of Herculaneum was varied and sophisticated with foods from all over the Empire passing through the citizen's digestive tracts.

Still Life of peaches from Pompeii

110 items have been discovered so far by sifting through the sewer's treasures at Herculanum. Egg shells, chicken and mutton bones, fish scales and bones from 46 different species of fish (like sea bream, anchovies, sardines, eels, sea bass, shark, sea urchin, scallops and ray), grapes, apples, pears, peaches, figs, cherries, pomegranates, walnuts, almonds and olives but no citrus. They also found coriander and fennel seeds even in poorer homes as well as black peppercorns that would have been for rich people. Since only 70 of more than 700 bags of sewer treasure have been sifted through, doubtless much more will be learned as more of the bags are opened.

Using a new technique of collagen testing on bones of the citizens, it has been discovered that the people, rich and poor, were nearly complete vegetarians or vegetarian/fish eaters – it seems very little meat was eaten (at least by the people who got stuck in Herculaneum – perhaps the meat eaters escaped?

Painting from Pompeii, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, (Naples), showing a banquet

So, what might a sophisticated Roman in a resort town filled with a lavish array of produce, fish and avian delights want to share at their dinners? I went to Apicius (I’ve written about it HERE) to get a dish that would invoke the spirit of Herculaneum even though the recipes were written long after its destruction (it is believed Apicius was written over generations beginning around the 4th century AD). Something about partridge and berries sounded awfully good (especially when the partridge is D'Artagnan's Wild Scottish Red Partridge). I wish I could get myrtle berries but read that they taste of juniper and rosemary with a bit of pine so I thought I would add a bit of that to the mix. The sauce is just beautiful -- seriously beautiful. The gentle hint of Aftelier's pine essence gives a lyrical quality to the berries that I found magical.

WAYS TO PREPARE PARTRIDGE, HEATH-COCK OR WOODCOCK, AND BOILED TURTLE-DOVE IN PERDICE ET ATTAGENA ET IN TURTURE ELIXIS
[218] (in perdice is Latin for partridge)

PEPPER, LOVAGE, CELERY SEED, MINT, MYRTLE BERRIES, ALSO RAISINS, HONEY [1] WINE, VINEGAR, BROTH, AND OIL. USE IT COLD [2] THE PARTRIDGE IS SCALDED WITH ITS FEATHERS, AND WHILE WET THE FEATHERS ARE TAKEN OFF; [the hair singed] IT IS THEN COOKED IN ITS OWN JUICE [braised] AND WHEN DONE WILL NOT BE HARD IF CARE IS TAKEN [to baste it]. SHOULD IT REMAIN HARD [if it is old] YOU MUST CONTINUE TO COOK IT UNTIL IT IS TENDER

Partridge with Berry Sauce from Apicius, serves 2

1 D'Artagnan Wild Scottish Partridge, cut into 3 pieces, bones removed from breast (reserve the back for stock)

Brine*

1 T olive oil

1 T hazelnut oil

1/4 c stock (best if you can make game bird stock but chicken will do well)

2 T white wine vinegar

2 T White Wine

1 T heather honey

2 T raisins

1/4 t pepper

1/8 t celery seed

1 drop Aftelier juniper essence, or 3 crushed juniper berries

1 sprig rosemary

1 drop Aftelier pine needle essence

1/2 pint blueberries

Mint (a small sprig chopped with the top reserved for garnish)

Lovage or celery leaves (lovage tastes like celery on steroids- chop a tiny bit and use some for garnish)

Brine the partridge for an hour or so.  Remove from the brine and dry and then sauté in the oils, gently cook till medium (about the time the bird is softly browned).  Remove and tent, reserving the cooking juices.

Heat the stock, wine, vinegar, heather and honey with raisins and spices and the pine for a few minutes. Add the blueberries and cook gently for 5 minutes.  Remove from heat and allow to come to room temperature. Pour the reserved juices into the mix.  If you are lucky enough to have myrtle berries, skip the rosemary, pine and juniper since the berries have those flavors naturally.  I have never worked with them so if they are not juicy enough, add additional liquids.

Brine

1 c water

1 bay leaf

2 smashed juniper berries

1 T salt

1 T sugar

Heat the ingredients for a few minutes in the water and then allow to cool.  

I will be off for the next month on making vintage murders.  Back in October!

Grouse with Foie Gras and Madeira and a Blackberry Sauce

Ancient Roman Asparagus and Grouse Tart

Scottish Pigeon with Gooseberry Sauce

Scottish Partridge with Port Wine Sauce

Soyer's Grouse Salad

Lions Forever, Edwin Landseer and Partridge with Port Wine Sauce

Lions installed at Trafalgar Square 1867

I was full of rage and terribly saddened by the dastardly murder of Cecil the lion by a pathetic excuse for a man/hunter. The tragic death has had one positive effect, it has really advanced the conversation about killing for fun the way Black Fish has raised awareness about the plight of captive killer whales.  To honor animal spirits and dislodge that horrid image of the leering dentist and the dead lion from of my brain, I thought it would be cathartic for me to write of one of the greatest animal artists of all time and share some of his wondrous works.

One of the most iconic portrayals of leonine majesty would have to be the quartet of 22 foot high bronze lions astride Nelson’s Column in London’s Trafalgar Square created by Edwin Landseer.

Landseer working on the lions by John Ballantyne

Landseer’s lion study

Edwin Landseer (1802-1873)

Edwin Landseer, born into a family of master engravers, was prodigiously gifted from a very early age. He could paint with both hands at the same time (quite a parlor trick).

Alpine Mastiffs Reanimating a Distressed Traveler, 1820

Although his work was already being shown in London at 13, he achieved fame at 18 with his dramatic portrait of Alpine Mastiffs going to the rescue of a traveler. It made a big splash and even created a tradition. The dog on the right is more familiar St. Bernard, on the left is the extinct Alpine Mastiff. That barrel of brandy on the Alpine Mastiff's collar –– it’s all Landseer’s fault the poor animals now wear the damn things (they are heavy and awkward and the dogs really don't like them). He put a cask on the great beast’s collar in this painting and the idea caught on.

 Landseer lion study

As for the lions, he was fascinated with them from childhood. McDougall Scott wrote in his 1907 biography of Landseer, “He and his friend, Thomas Christmas, at intervals still sketched and painted the lions the tower and at Exeter ‘Change, and on the death of a noble brute at the latter menagerie, Mr. Cross presented them with the carcass, which they removed to their studio. The skin was afterwards preserved and stuffed. They dissected the body, and then the skeleton was articulated and set up. This accounts for the number of leonine subjects that occupied his can vases about this period. The “Lion Enjoying his Repast” and “Lion Disturbed at his Repast” (both of 1820, and exhibited at the British Institution a year later), and the “Prowling Lion” and “Study of a Lion” (both of 1822, and the former shown at the Royal Academy), all point to a lingering fascination for the reputed King of Beasts — a master passion that remained with him, despite intervals of dormancy, to the very last.” 

Isaac van Amburgh with his Animals, 1838 

Aside from the famous lions at Trafalgar Square, he also worked on a book filled with engravings of lions, tigers and leopards.and painted the famous animal trainer, Isaac van Amburgh, in a cage with his menagerie (he seems an animal whisperer in Landseer’s portrayal ­­–– in fact he was a vile abuser who starved and beat his creatures to get them to perform).

 Stubbs,Whistlejacket, 1762

Mares and Foals, Stubbs 1762

Landseer, Study of a horse

Although I loved the cool authority of earlier artist George Stubb’s  magnificent equine portraits, Edwin Landseer’s peerless dogs, lions, and yes, sometimes even horses were the rage of Victorian England (grand Stubbs show at the Met this summer, btw).

Queen Victoria and Prince Albert with animals by Landseer

He was Queen Victoria’s favorite artist. He actually helped the Queen with her sketching and taught the Queen and Prince Albert how to etch. They even had a small press installed at Balmoral so they could make prints of their work. He spent much time at Balmoral with the family, painting them and their many pets.

Mental illness struck Landseer in 1840 and would recur for the rest of his life. It led him to use narcotics for relief (he was probably manic-depressive) and sometimes forced him to be institutionalized but rarely kept him from his work. The Queen was inconsolable when he died. Many observed, “Her Majesty’s kindly, we might almost say tender, compassion for her distraught artist in his last sad days. Though she did not come in person to see him, her messages were always full of comfort and kind thought.” She had a book of etchings of his paintings made for her to treasure as well as the dozens of works in oil and on paper that he had made for her when he lived. She was terribly fond of all of them.

Queen Victoria’s Dogs, 1838 “Hector, Nero, and Dash with the parrot Lory”

Prince Albert’s dog, Eos, 1841

What Landseer was best known for were his dogs and there was a reason for this. His great friend, Mrs, Ritchie (William Thackeray’s daughter) said: “He had a strong feeling against the way some dogs are tied up; only allowed their freedom now and then. He used to say a man would fare better tied up than a dog, because the former can take his coat off, but a dog lives in his forever. He declared a tied-up dog without daily exercise goes mad or dies in three years. His wonderful power over dogs is well-known. An illustrious lady [whom we shall venture upon identifying as Queen Victoria] asked him how it was that he gained this knowledge. ‘By peeping into their hearts, ma’am,’ was his answer.”

A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society, 1838

Saved, 1838

Old Shepherd’s Chief Mourner

Queen Victoria's mother's dog Quiz and a St Bernard pal

Monarch of the Glen, 1851

Landseer was also famous for his portrayals of the heroic stag that captured his imagination when he first traveled to Scotland in 1824. The best known, his “Monarch of the Glen” is positively inspirational -- the stag never looked so regal as he does captured by Landseer (the title nudged me to watch the television show, Monarch of the Glen as I was writing –– gorgeous scenery and a great dog days of summer escape).

Serving the Guns

He painted a lot of hunting scenes with dogs.

This is where we started, isn’t it, the hunting part?

I do understand a love and reverence for animals that inspires art like Stubbs’ and Landseer’s and inspires many of us to have animal paintings, sculptures and photographs as well as the animals themselves all about our houses. Animal videos on YouTube are consistently viral sensations – I can understand that. I cannot understand the taking of a beautiful animal life to hang on a wall to have something to boast about and crow over – that I simply cannot understand.

I am not, nor have I ever been, a hunter. I love looking at beautiful beasts in the wild but can’t bear going to zoos or seeing animals in cages. The idea of enjoying killing is beyond me. Watching a creature run from me in terror is not my idea of a good time. I see nothing brave or sportsmanlike about shining a light in an animal’s eyes and shooting it. There is only cowardice in a canned hunt – some pathetic John Wayne delusion (who for all his swagger got out of serving in WWII). Even worse, as in Cecil’s case, the idea of hunters who shoot and do not kill – making the animal suffer for hours or days with a bullet or arrow in them –– horrible. Makes you think we haven’t advanced past brutal cave men who at least killed for hunger -- to do it for trophies???

The Wild Cattle of Chillingham

Death of the Wild Bull, 1833

My experience with hunters has not been positive.  I used to have a house in prime hunting territory and saw hunters in the fall –– drunk, shooting up the land, wounding but not killing and just leaving dead animals they were too lazy to field-dress (I put an orange vest on my St. Bernard so he wouldn’t be mistaken for a white tail deer and get shot because the hunters were so careless). I also saw Bambi as a child and believe you me –– I’ve thought of hunters as pure black evil since I was 5 or 6 (sorry Hank Shaw, I can’t help it). It’s a hard thing to change your attitude when something is so powerfully ingrained in your psyche.

I do eat meat, so I have to accept responsibility for the death-for-my-dinner thing. It is perhaps hypocritical and cowardly to point any fingers at a hunter, yet for me,  i would feel like a soldier in war –– having to shoot into the darkness I might be able to do, having to look someone in the eye and shoot is another. Once you make real contact that’s it. Once it’s a man and not ‘the other’ most men can’t pull the trigger. If I had to shoot my dinner, I would be a vegetarian.

Best of all is to make sure we treat all creatures great and small with love and affection. If we must kill it should be done quickly and humanely after a life well lived.  Adam Gopnik said in the New Yorker this week, “So let us mock the sentimentalists who weep loudly for Cecil, and chide them for being insufficiently attentive to other circles of suffering, and those they find less easy to love than lions. But let us not mock too much: the instincts and habits that make us extend our circles of compassion outward, however irrationally, are the ones that bring us closer to something like a shared natural morality. Rest in peace, Cecil.”  Amen, Adam.

Punch cartoon from 1867 (Nelson is on top of the pillar that the lion’s surround)

Although I don’t know how much of a sportsman Landseer was, he did use the bodies of dead animals for studies of musculature and bones. Because it took Landseer so long to do the lions of Trafalgar, there was a story going around that the lion corpse that he used got so ripe that it had to be tossed before he was done working on the feet which were not as perfectly realistic as the rest of the beast (since he had been sketching lions since childhood it seems implausible that he would not have had many examples to draw from to do the work – tongues were wagging because it had taken so very long to deliver the work).

Two Partridges

Landseer did aspire for verisimilitude even in his depiction of highland birds, Scott noted, “Whenever a pheasant, partridge, or wild-duck fell to the sportsman’s gun, its attitude was carefully preserved by bits of moss and pebbles so that it might stiffen in death, and thus become a true model for the painter.” When looking at his “Two Partridges” above, you can see how it paid off.

 I found Landseer’s love of Scotland’s fields, forests, streams, rivers, and the beasts and men that inhabit the beautiful country terribly inspiring. It set me combing over an old 19th century Scottish cookbook, The Cookery Book of Lady Clark of Tillypronie  for authentic Scottish recipes to get an idea what men of Landseer’s time would have done with their feathered bounty – to get the flavor of the time. I also found a great game cookbook from the early part of the 20th century The Derrydale Game Cookbook

In them I found some pretty interesting recipes for grouse mousses and soufflés, as well as the more traditional roasts and pies. Many were downright weird, and others were boring as all get out.

Working with my stash of D’Artagnan’s Wild Scottish Game Birds, I decided I wanted to do a partridge, and the  The Derrydale Game Cookbook had a splendid Panned Partridge Port Wine Sauce that was amazing –– I could drink this sauce.  I added just a bit of Aftelier Petit Grain chefs essence to the stuffing for an extra hit of orange –– the fragrance permeated the meat that was also tender and juicy. I am going to try a game bird pie and a game bird mousse soon –– just not today.

Panned Partridge Port Wine Sauce (based on a recipe from Derrydale Game Cookbook)

2 Wild Scottish Partridges from D’Artagnan
1 -2 T good gin (I used Breuckelen Gin with lots of juniper and herbs)
12 sections of tangerine or 8 of oranges

1 drop Aftelier Petit Grain Chef's essence

2 T butter
S&P
Port Wine Sauce*
Potato chips (then still called Saratoga chips)

Wipe the birds with a paper towel. Pour the gin carefully over the birds and inside them and rub a drop of Petit Grain essence on the inside as well.

Salt and pepper them inside and out and then stuff the birds with the tangerine or orange sections. Add a touch more gin inside the birds.

Heat the oven to 400º

Sauté the birds for about 25 minutes, turning frequently until browned.  You can do this step an hour in advance -- the birds are best if they cool down a bit before you roast them.

Put in the oven for another 10 -12 minutes for a bird that's medium-medium well.

Serve with Port Wine sauce and homemade or kettle cooked chips.

Port Wine Sauce (based on a recipe from Derrydale Game Cookbook)

½ c port (ruby or vintage –– Rare Wine Co. has some spectacular ports if you want to do it up right)

1 t shallot

½ t thyme or small sprig
juice of 1 orange
¼ orange zest
few drops of lemon juice
salt and cayenne to taste
¼ c veal demi glace
¼ c water
1 ½ t flour

Reduce the port to ¼ cup. Add the shallot, thyme, orange zest and orange and lemon juice with salt and cayenne and cook for a few minutes. Add the veal stock and water and the flour stirred into a tablespoon or 2 of water. Cook for about 5 minutes then strain into sauceboat.

Grouse with Foie Gras and Madeira and a Blackberry Sauce

Ancient Roman Asparagus and Grouse Tart

Scottish Pigeon with Gooseberry Sauce

Scottish Partridge with Port Wine Sauce