CONDIMENTS, SPICES AND FLAVORS.
Maxim as ancient as the time of Democritus of Abdera reads: “Whatever pleases the palate nourishes.” Modern science has proven the truth of this maxim and has given us acceptable reason why condiments are no more necessary in palace of connoisseur than in hut of barbarian, why they are as eagerly used by the native of Labrador as by the swarthy son of the tropics; why they are the property of Mohammedan, Confucian, Buddhist, Gentile and Jew, of all castes, races and civilizations. Acting principally upon the nervous system through the sense of smell, condiments stimulate the flow of both the saliva and gastric juices. They materially aid digestion, and the familiar phrase, “to make the mouth water,” states a physiological fact. From this standpoint the fragrant aroma of steaming coffee and the savory odor of a stew are as truly condiments as pepper and salt; for condiments are the magic wand which transforms most commonplace of foods into essences, subtle and delicious. They are equally appropriate to the steaming potage of the French peasant and the sacrificial altars of Palestine and Greece. Nothing more closely tests the skill of the cook than his use of these appetizing flavors. Like genii of the fairy tale, they are willing, versatile and obedient as slaves; when master their pathway is strewn with sorrowful though most aromatic wrecks of soups and hors d’œuvres. They should permeate food as incense does the atmosphere, delicate, impalpable and as indescribable as they are requisite. The too abundant use of a certain condiment or spice, the lack of another or the injudicious mingling of certain others will ruin the finest pudding, sauce or soup ever compounded.
Condiments and spices are as ancient as civilization. The oldest books of the scriptures, notably Exodus, Leviticus, Job and the Canticles, make frequent reference to salt and spices, substances which were then costly, chiefly dedicated to royalty and the uses of temple and altar. The Greeks followed the Semitic customs to some extent in their disposition of spices, not using them as largely in their food as have later races. They were fond of aromatic flavorings and it is said that the laurels of Greece, of which the cinnamon is a species, possessed that quality to a greater extent than those of any other country, although all laurels have aromatic leaves.
Homer in the Iliad refers with naïve surprise to those people unaccustomed to the use of salt, and in the ninth book pictures Patroclus as
“He strews a bed of glowing embers wide,
Above the coals the smoking fragments turns,
And sprinkles sacred salt upon the urns.”
By the mediæval Romans condiments were well liked. They made, according to one author, a pickle from the tunny fish, just as their languorous descendants are doing to-day, and also prepared a condiment from the intestines of the mackerel. “Liver of the capon, steeped in milk and beccaficoes, and dressed with pepper” was another of their highly seasoned dishes.
In the thirteenth century Dante, in the description of the alchemists and forgers of the tenth gulf of the Inferno, referred to one Niccolo of Sienna, “who first the spice’s luxury discovered.” Contemporary with him in England, William Langland, in his “Vision of Piers the Plowman,” inquired if thou “hast in thy purse any hot spices?”