Greco-Persian Dinner

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“This is the display of the inquiry of Herodotus of Halicarnassus, so that things done by man not be forgotten in time, and that great and marvelous deeds, some displayed by the Hellenes [Greeks], some by the barbarians [non-Greeks], not lose their glory, including among others what was the cause of their waging war on each other.”

~ Opening line of Herodotus’s Histories, 5th century BCE  

Two wars in the 5th century BCE might seem like an unusual theme for a dinner party, but  the Greco-Persian Wars are among the most momentous events ever in ancient history. Faced with a common enemy, the fractious city-states of Greece were forced to unite for the first time as they fought for independence from the largest empire in the world. The Wars helped define the distinct quality of “Greekness” (Hellenikon) and set the stage for the flowering of Greek art, government and literature that would inspire later cultures up to the present day. They also helped seed our modern division of the world’s cultures into “East” vs. “West.” Herodotus, a Greek who grew up in the Persian Empire and whose home city played an important role in the conflict, devoted his life to researching the cause behind the Wars. The modern study of history, and even the word itself, are derived from the text Herodotus titled his Inquiries (Historiai), because it represented his inquiry into that most basic of loaded questions: “why don’t we get along?”

Luckily, there was nothing but harmony in the air last night at the Greek restaurant Nerai in Manhattan, which hosted a very special event in collaboration with myself and Eklektikon Wines. Together we developed an ancient-inspired menu, with Greek natural wine pairings drawn from ancient traditions.

To represent the conflict, we chose to serve Ancient Greek and Ancient Persian-inspired food side by side for each course. The restaurant’s chef spun off from our initial ideas to create recipes within the realm of what would have been possible for ancient chefs. Except for the refined sugar in the candied walnuts, all the ingredients are authentically ancient. Though we don’t have as much documentation of the Ancient Persian diet as the Ancient Greek one, the Persian side of the menu was informed by modern Persian cuisine as well as Ancient Greek sources like Xenophon’s Cyropaedia (a biography of the Persian conqueror Cyrus the Great) and the grocery lists of the Persian royal kitchens. This blog was one online source that provided a lot of useful background information.

I was so excited to see this event come together. Huge thanks to Nerai, Eklektikon, and to everyone who came and ate!

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Chrysocolla [Flaxseed Candy] (Greek, at least 7th century BCE)

“Bread sprinkled with poppy-seed is mentioned by Alcman in Book V as follows: ‘Couches seven, and as many tables laden with poppy-bread, and bread with flax and sesame-seed; and in cups…chrysocolla.’ This is a confection made of honey and flaxseeds.”
~ Athenaeus quoting Alcman, Deipnosophistae Book 3 (early 3rd century CE)

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Athenaeus of Naucratis is perhaps the greatest Ancient Greek food writer, though he lived and wrote in Rome at the height of its Empire. His masterwork Deipnosophistae (The Philosopher’s Dinner Party, among other possible translations) is an overview of Greek food culture that attempts to document just about every literary reference to food in Greek. In order to accomplish this ambitious objective, Athenaeus draws on a vast array of sources, not only food critics and chefs but poets and historians. He is nothing if not comprehensive: writing in the third century, Athenaeus recorded a reference to a sweet called chrysocólla (χρυσοκόλλα) in the work of Alcman, a poet who lived about a thousand years earlier, in the 7th century BCE.

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A papyrus fragment from Greek Egypt, now in the collection of the Louvre in Paris, with one of Alcman’s poems. Alcman’s Greek combines features from different dialects, possibly further evidence that he was not a native speaker. Public domain (2011).

Lighthearted and celebratory, Alcman writes often of the joys of food and his own great appetite, even calling himself in one poem ho panphágos Alkmán, “the all-devouring Alcman.” Yet we know that he lived in Sparta, that most austere of Greek cities, whose other poets are far more serious and grim. An ancient tradition maintains that there was good reason for Alcman’s un-Spartan ways: he wasn’t Spartan, or even Greek, by birth, but came from Lydia in modern Turkey. The poet himself seems to support this claim with a remark that he learned poetry from the chukar partridge, a Near Eastern bird that is not native to Greece. According to Aristotle, Alcman arrived in Sparta enslaved, but his master freed him because of his remarkable poetic ability. He would go on to be listed with literary rockstars like Sappho and Pindar among the Nine Lyric Poets, those deemed most worthy of study by later Greek scholars. Evidently, it pays to listen to partridges.

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Alcman called the chukar kakkabi, after its three-note call. It would probably enjoy this recipe (at least the flaxseeds). Photo from Wikimedia Commons (2004).

In Ancient Greek, chrysocolla means “gold glue.” Alcman’s confection shares the name with a striking blue mineral that was used as solder by ancient goldsmiths, gluing the precious metal together. From the name and ingredients, we can infer that Alcman’s chrysocolla was a crunchy hard candy, resembling the sesame pasteli of modern Greece, the amaranth tzoalli of the Aztecs, and similar seed and nut candies enjoyed around the world. Deipnosophistae itself contains a reference to another ancient version, a Cretan specialty with both sesame and nuts called koptoplakous, from a word meaning “cut off” or “broken” (compare English “brittle”).

Today this type of candy often contains sugar refined from sugarcane, a plant which was unknown in Greece until 326 BCE, when Alexander the Great’s men returned from India with stories of “the reed which gives honey without bees.” The genuine honey in this recipe is enough to bind the flaxseeds together. The added olive oil helps keep the gold glue from sticking to everything else.

THE RECIPE

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-1 cup honey
-1 cup whole flaxseeds
-Olive oil

First, toast the flaxseeds by placing them in a dry skillet over medium heat. Stir continually for 5-7 minutes, until the seeds are glistening and start to jump around in the skillet. Remove from the heat. Oil a glass or ceramic dish and set aside.

In a saucepan, bring the honey to a boil while stirring with a wooden spoon. Once the honey is boiling, lower the heat, stir in the toasted flaxseeds and cook for an additional 15 minutes, continuing to stir.

Remove from the heat and spread the mixture onto the dish, smoothing it as much as possible with the back of a spoon. Let cool for 1-2 hours in the fridge, until it has set into a hard, amber-like candy. Snap the chrysocolla into pieces and place in cups.

Alcman described himself as an indiscriminate eater, but it would be hard to find anyone who would turn up their nose at this sweet, crunchy treat made with just three ingredients. Sometimes the simplest recipe can bring the greatest joy, a principle of cookery which Alcman well understood.

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“And then I’ll give you a fine great cauldron, wherein you may gather food in heaps. It’s still unheated by fire yet, but soon it’ll be full of that thick stew that the all-devouring Alcman loves, piping hot when the days are past their shortest. For he eats not what is nicely prepared, but demands simple things like the common people.”
~ Alcman quoted in Deipnosophistae Book 10