04-09-2004, 06:48 PM
I LOVE Worchestershire sauce. I use it in all of my concoctions. However, it's a far smell from what Garum in the Roman sense is. I found this realyl cool article on it:<br>
___________________________________________<br>
<strong>Food History<br>
<br>
GARUM</strong><br>
The original Roman Garum was not an attractive condiment. Lets face it, to the average, lily-livered stomach of modern man, there can be few things more revolting than the thought of a squirt of fermented fish guts over your patatas, which is basically what garum was. Even for the entrails-loving Romans, the smell of garum during the process of fermentation was said to be so foul that the common folk were actually outlawed from making it in their own homes. Regardless, it was beloved by all from the loftiest courts to the lowliest hovels and they slathered it with wild abandon over everything from sea urchins to stuffed flamingos and dormice.<br>
<br>
None of this comes as much surprise when you consider that we are talking about a civilisation whose idea of a good pre-dinner appetizer and incidentally, sexual stimulant, was to place a live fish in front of you and watch with rapt wonder (and a growing hard-on) as it turned all the pretty colours of the rainbow while slowly and presumably painfully suffocating to death. These are also the people who popularised bulimia in an effort to extend feasting and rampant orgies long into the night. Nope, there’s no doubt about it, they knew how to lay on a good party.<br>
<br>
But were they great cooks? It is fair to say they weren’t bad, and with Roman inspired delicacies currently undergoing something of a revival there has never been a better time to wow the inevitable summer influx of guests with toga theme parties, some authentic-ish nibbles and some sparkling gastronomic anecdotes.<br>
<br>
Mad as it may sound given the above, garum was indeed king of the kitchen; as common among ancient Greek and Roman foodies as posh Maldon salt is today, and used liberally by the peasants much as modern-day teenagers use tomato ketchup – on anything and everything.<br>
<br>
Like Maldon, Atlantic sea salt and the common table variety garum had its own culinary hierarchy. Different grades of this fishy sauce varied in pungency according to how much blood and guts were included in the base besides the flesh and the salt. Mackerel, the base of true garum, was considered the best. Second grade was muria, made from tuna fish, and the third, poor mans liquamen was made from any old flapper found at the bottom of the net.<br>
<br>
Which brings us to the question, what’s Barcelona got to do with it? Barcino, as it was then, had one of the most important fish salting industry’s in the Mediterranean – indeed, it was one of the few things that Barcelona was any good for at a time when the town itself was little more than a backwater with a bog and Tarragona was the commercial centre of Roman Catalunya. Regardless, according to the great Roman scholar, Pliny, the garum made in Barcelona was considered the best money could buy. He even gave his name to it.<br>
<br>
Made using the fresh spilled blood of the still-beating heart of a live mackerel, Pliny Garum was afterwards mixed with the creature’s entrails, salted and left to rot in the sun, until, weeks later when the solids were putrefied nicely a bad tempered, but much revered goo emerged. Finally, the Garum was strained, bottled and ready to use.<br>
<br>
But Pliny wasn’t the only Roman A-lister to focus his attention on garum. The poet Martial, a vicious first century satirist, directed much of his poisonous scribbling’s towards bitching about the eating habits of those in court, “Tucca, it’s not enough for you to be a glutton –“ he once said. “You have to be called one, and to look like one.â€ÂÂ
___________________________________________<br>
<strong>Food History<br>
<br>
GARUM</strong><br>
The original Roman Garum was not an attractive condiment. Lets face it, to the average, lily-livered stomach of modern man, there can be few things more revolting than the thought of a squirt of fermented fish guts over your patatas, which is basically what garum was. Even for the entrails-loving Romans, the smell of garum during the process of fermentation was said to be so foul that the common folk were actually outlawed from making it in their own homes. Regardless, it was beloved by all from the loftiest courts to the lowliest hovels and they slathered it with wild abandon over everything from sea urchins to stuffed flamingos and dormice.<br>
<br>
None of this comes as much surprise when you consider that we are talking about a civilisation whose idea of a good pre-dinner appetizer and incidentally, sexual stimulant, was to place a live fish in front of you and watch with rapt wonder (and a growing hard-on) as it turned all the pretty colours of the rainbow while slowly and presumably painfully suffocating to death. These are also the people who popularised bulimia in an effort to extend feasting and rampant orgies long into the night. Nope, there’s no doubt about it, they knew how to lay on a good party.<br>
<br>
But were they great cooks? It is fair to say they weren’t bad, and with Roman inspired delicacies currently undergoing something of a revival there has never been a better time to wow the inevitable summer influx of guests with toga theme parties, some authentic-ish nibbles and some sparkling gastronomic anecdotes.<br>
<br>
Mad as it may sound given the above, garum was indeed king of the kitchen; as common among ancient Greek and Roman foodies as posh Maldon salt is today, and used liberally by the peasants much as modern-day teenagers use tomato ketchup – on anything and everything.<br>
<br>
Like Maldon, Atlantic sea salt and the common table variety garum had its own culinary hierarchy. Different grades of this fishy sauce varied in pungency according to how much blood and guts were included in the base besides the flesh and the salt. Mackerel, the base of true garum, was considered the best. Second grade was muria, made from tuna fish, and the third, poor mans liquamen was made from any old flapper found at the bottom of the net.<br>
<br>
Which brings us to the question, what’s Barcelona got to do with it? Barcino, as it was then, had one of the most important fish salting industry’s in the Mediterranean – indeed, it was one of the few things that Barcelona was any good for at a time when the town itself was little more than a backwater with a bog and Tarragona was the commercial centre of Roman Catalunya. Regardless, according to the great Roman scholar, Pliny, the garum made in Barcelona was considered the best money could buy. He even gave his name to it.<br>
<br>
Made using the fresh spilled blood of the still-beating heart of a live mackerel, Pliny Garum was afterwards mixed with the creature’s entrails, salted and left to rot in the sun, until, weeks later when the solids were putrefied nicely a bad tempered, but much revered goo emerged. Finally, the Garum was strained, bottled and ready to use.<br>
<br>
But Pliny wasn’t the only Roman A-lister to focus his attention on garum. The poet Martial, a vicious first century satirist, directed much of his poisonous scribbling’s towards bitching about the eating habits of those in court, “Tucca, it’s not enough for you to be a glutton –“ he once said. “You have to be called one, and to look like one.â€ÂÂ
