Cut up oysters, muscles, and sea-hedgehogs; let the pieces be rather small; put them into a stewpan with pine almonds, fried and chopped, some parsley, rue, pepper, coriander, and cummin; add, with proper care and discretion, some cooked wine, garum, and oil; cover, and boil the whole for a long time on a slow fire.[XXI_217]
We will point out the shell fish most in vogue in Italy, and for which the seasoning was generally composed of a mixture of pepper, parsley, dried mint, alisander, a great quantity of cummin, and a little of the decoction of spikenard.[XXI_218]
OYSTER.
The pontiffs of pagan Rome, men of exquisite delicacy and matured taste, caused oysters to be served at every repast.[XXI_219] This little piece of epicurism was very expensive, and it was necessary for these grave personages to carry the whole of the devotion which characterized them in their love of good cheer to the highest degree, to dare eat of a dish still uncommon a century before the Christian era. At this epoch a borriche (a sort of basket) of oysters was worth one hundred sesterces (£9).[XXI_220] It is unnecessary to remark that the poor never tasted them.
The Greeks and Romans, like ourselves, were remarkably fond of this delicious shell fish, and eat them (French fashion) at the beginning of a banquet.[XXI_221] For this reason Athenian epicures called oysters “the gastronomic prelude to the supper.”[XXI_222] They were often served raw,[XXI_223] and were then dexterously opened by a slave on the table,[XXI_224] in presence of the guests, whose experienced eyes greedily sought the light purple net which, according to them, surrounds the fattest and best.[XXI_225]
The inhabitants of Italy preferred large oysters,[XXI_226] and exacted that this dainty manna of the sea[XXI_227] should be always fresh and abundant at their feasts.[XXI_228] This displayed wisdom on their part: this delightful fish excites the appetite and facilitates digestion.[XXI_229] To add to its delicate flavour, the “Roman club of epicureans,” a useful association, which modern Europe envies antiquity, caused to be sent from Spain, at a vast expense, that precious garum,[XXI_230] the recipe of which seems to have been lost, and the condiment itself forgotten by the whole of the Peninsula.
The magiric genius of Rome did not hesitate to demonstrate that oysters do not form an exception to the law of perfectibility which governs all beings, and that it is possible to render their flesh more succulent and delicate by transporting them from their damp cradle into reservoirs exposed to the mild influence of the sun.[XXI_231] Sergius Orata or, perhaps, Fulvius Hirpinus, was the first who received this happy inspiration. He caused to be constructed, near Pouzzole, a short time before the civil war of Pompey, a fishpond, where be stowed oysters, which he fattened with paste and cooked wine worked into the consistence of honey[XXI_232]—sapa et farre. This worthy Roman enriched himself by the sale of them,[XXI_233] and bequeathed a name to posterity—a two-fold happiness for the gastronomist Fulvius, whose good fortune the poet Homer did not partake.
Apicius esteemed highly oysters from the lake of Lucrinus, from Brindes, and Abydos, and studied deeply the succulent qualities of this shell fish. He knew how to preserve them fat, fresh, and alive, during long and fatiguing journeys; and, thanks to a delicate attention on the part of this immortal bon vivant, the great Trajan was enabled to regale himself with oysters sent from Rome while carrying on a distant war against the Parthians.[XXI_234] This present of the king of epicureans to the master of the world was worthy of both the giver and receiver, but it completed the ruin of the generous Apicius.
The Roman ladies shared their husbands’ taste, and eagerly partook of oysters from the lake of Lucrinus, brought into fashion by Sergius Orata, and when their fatigued stomachs struggled painfully with gluttony, this delicacy soon obtained an easy triumph by disposing the appetite to fresh exertions. The means of defence, however, were not very formidable; sometimes a little warm and limpid water—oftener a dazzling plume from the bird of Juno—hastened the struggle, and, without effort, decided the victory.[XXI_235] This ingenious method was very much relished by polyphagists, and the Emperor Vitellius particularly honoured it.[XXI_236]