laugh as they watch these scenes until they notice that oysters, scallops and snails are sliding out of several jugs that have been carried in on steaming silver gridirons. During this serving interlude, boys with long hair walk around with silver bowls of perfumed cream with which they massage the feet of the guests reclining on their couches. The slave boys also wrap the guests’ legs and ankles in wreaths of fragrant flowers.
Trimalchio delivers a rambling but detailed account of the outrageously sumptuous funeral he hopes will mark his death one day. It will feature a large tombstone that carefully lists an inventory of his great wealth. Although he and Fortunata dissolve in tears after this pseudo-sad narration, they eventually stop sniveling about death in front of the guests, and return to laughter and joking.
By now, the guests are tipsy, so the party undertakes an exit trip to the baths for a much-needed intermission of dousing. (A kind of Keystone Cops routine follows in the baths). When the bathed guests return, they are escorted to a second dining room where tables are already laden with wine and pastries. During this dessert interlude, the guests continue to exchange light verbal banter until, after the break of dawn, the end of the feast is in sight.’
Petronius’ account of Trimalchio’s feast ends with a description of the bleary-eyed guests as they stagger off with their slaves who bear Trimalchio’s rich dinner gifts.’ (Extracted and paraphrased from: Satyricon, and the Apocolocyntosis, Volume II; translation and introductory notes by J.P. Sullivan, as well as on-line Project Gutenberg’s version, which was consulted for comparison).
Well! Trimalchio’s feast combined dining with theater-in-the-round, several true confessions, the services of a massage parlor and a surreal trick ceiling. The use of multi-ethnic slaves and actor-chefs as part of The Dinner Show is notable, as is the cameo role of the trophy-wife and her high-stepping performance. Trimalchio’s feast emphasized his wealth in a manner that epitomized imperial Roman theatrical entertainment among the newly rich, many of whom were – by Imperial Times – upstart canny tradesmen instead of the traditional clan-centered aristocracy.
Freely serving Falernian wine is analogous to serving Jeroboams of the best French champagne today. Good Falernian was seldom mixed with herbs or spices, as were less impressive wines, although wines were typically cut with water during the earlier courses of any feast. The Romans, like the Greeks, typically drank wine diluted with water or juices, because drinking it neat was (rightly) surmised to cause early drunkenness. This practice was often honored in the breach during the final hours of feasts and symposia.
Imperial Roman culinary patterns, such as stuffing smaller animals or their parts into larger ones, encasing foods in dough, or larding fowl and fish with herbs and sauces all characterize Trimalchio’s feast. Serving food ingredients in pastry shells and shaped into sculptures was very popular in Imperial Rome, and similar food-as-artwork patterns were elaborated during medieval culinary history too.
Interspersed periods of entertainment such as dances, music, recitations, dramatic scenes, poetry and literary readings were echoed in many Roman feasts, crazy or not. The excesses of this crazy feast, with its blatant focus on the conspicuous consumption of endless courses of dishes, and blatant use of slaves, costly ingredients and fine wines, compose its crass profile to feature Trimalchio’s wealth. Reviewing the menu for a ‘casual’ feast such as this was, helps us understand a need for the Senate’s sumptuary laws. The guests could not possibly eat a fraction of the rich dishes served, and the use of baths, two dining-rooms, and costly take-home gifts emphasize luxury intended as pure display. Moreover, the obviously crass manners and conversation of the host and hostess, add the frosting on the cake of their gauche demeanor.
Thus, most of this feast’s craziness relates to its gross distortion of traditional Roman values into wasteful opulence, trick ceilings, and overly sumptuous gifts to the guests. In spite of Trimalchio’s attempts to appear upper class, his gross exaggeration of personal wealth and coarse behavior outweigh the kudos wealth might have given him. Crazy is as crazy does.
Imperial Roman dinners (coena recta) or feasts (comessatio) were typically organized as follows. First came an antipasto (ante coenam or gustum) consisting of fish, vegetables, fruits and nuts, shellfish or the ever-popular dormice, served with mulled wine (mulsum). Next came the first main course, mensa prima, consisting of game, boar, roe, deer and Picenian (wheat) breads, along with other meat or poultry dishes. This was followed by the mensa secunda or mensa pomorum, (fruit table), consisting of jams, preserves, but perhaps also sausages, cheeses or other primarily sweet dishes (see Flower and Rosenbaum, 21-22). Courses could be extended and even repeated too.
Drinking often increased as the meal progressed and usually peaked after the sweets were eaten. At that juncture, the guests (and the hosts in Trimalchio’s case) sometimes became their own entertainment. While we call the service order courses, they obviously include a different jumble of foods from our current concept of course progressions.
Should you decide prepare a classical Roman feast, crazy or not, you might restrict your menu to more feasible dishes and dispense with slaves, trick ceilings, Alexandrian boys, live birds stuffed into boars, sows’ udders, dormice or roasted small songbirds. But you can still serve dishes with a Roman flavor adapted from Apicius’ cookbook, as well as offer live entertainment or appropriate background music. Feel free to exploit your children, relatives, friends or talented neighbors. Some might be willing to play the role of slaves or servants for a fee or several lottery tickets. It’s up to you and to them. It could be fun. They might enjoy wearing sheets or cleverly draped towels and leather sandals too, especially if dining occurs outdoors in a pleasant patio-atrium.
Contemporary guests usually arrive clean and groomed, so the bathing interlude can be eliminated, unless you’re a Californian with a hot tub. Decide whether or not to use such implements as spoons (under a half-pound, please). Until Italians more or less ‘invented’ forks and championed their use several centuries later, spoons and bread served (and still can) to carry food from plate to mouth. Togas are optional, but it is always easier (and neater) to dine sitting rather than reclining on any ersatz couches you might create. If you don’t believe me, try the alternative during a ‘practice’ meal first. Messy and frankly hard on the elbows, I promise you as a dilettante.
Dispense with many Trimalchian details, but do offer a memento to departing guests as the Romans did. A well-designed printed menu with excerpts from Trimalchio’s Feast and a couple recipes might serve as an easily made souvenir. Or, if you’re in for a penny as well as a pound, a small piece of Italian glassware might do. If you live where outside patio dining is feasible, it might be pleasant to feast as Romans often did, al fresco in an inner atrium patio, protected from the wind and wildlife, human or otherwise.
Obviously bread was served for Trimalchio’s feast, although it merited minimal mention. Romans ate a variety of flatbreads and cheesecakes, but not the dessert kind. However, unless you are a passionate baker, plain or herb-flavored loaves and flatbreads are available today in good markets and bakeries.
Falernian wine days are over, but Italy and other countries offer a variety of wines from which to select one or more types; however, serve them unwatered, and not over-generously. Roman salads usually consisted of rocket, leeks, chicory, watercress, sorrel, basil, other tart greens, herbs and even nuts and cheeses. Some of these items are popular and available again for salads. Romans dressed salads with oil, vinegar, nuts and salted cheese (feta crumbles make decent substitutes) mixed with dashes of juice or consommé.
The following menu and recipes are only suggestions. Select those dishes appropriate to the season and number of guests you invite, or find similar ones in pertinent books noted in the bibliography or online. These recipes reflect Apicius’ era, but include adaptations to facilitate their current preparation. It is doubtful your local supermarket offers dormice or sow’s udders, and flamingo’s tongues are probably protected as endangered species. Sorrel and other herbs are seasonal at
