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MORETUM

At this hour, too, with some such plan in his 87
thoughts had he entered the garden. At first,
lightly digging up the ground with his fingers, he
draws out four garlic bulbs with thick fibres, then
plucks slender parsley-leaves and unbending rue,
and coriander, trembling on its scanty stalk. These
culled, he sat down by the pleasant fire, and loudly
calls to the maid for a mortar. Then be strips the
single heads of their rough membranes, and despoils
them of the outermost skins, scattering about on
the ground the parts thus slighted and casting them
away. The bulb, saved with the leaves, he dips in
water, and drops into the mortar's hollow circle.
Thereon he sprinkles grains of salt, adds cheese
hardened with consuming salt, and heaps on top the
herbs we have named; and while his left hand
gathers up the tunic about his shaggy flanks, his
right first crushes with a pestle the fragrant garlic,
then grinds all evenly in the juicy mixture. Round
and round passes the hand: little by little the ele-
ments lose their peculiar strength; the many colours
blend into one, yet neither is this wholly green, for
milk-white fragments still resist, nor is it a shining
milky-white, for it is varied by so many herbs.
Often the strong odour smites the man's open
nostrils, and with wrinkled nose he condemns his
breakfast fare, often drawing the back of his hand
across his tearful eyes, and cursing in anger the
innocent smoke.

The work goes on apace: no longer in uneven 111
course, as before, but heavier in weight, the pestle
moves on in slower circles. Therefore he lets fall
upon it some drops of Minerva's oil, pouring o'er it
strong vinegar in scanty stream, then once more
stirs up the dish and handles the mixture afresh.
And now at length he passes two fingers round all
the mortar, and into one ball packs the sundry pieces,
so that, in reality as in name, there is fashioned a
perfect moretum.

From: Virgil, with an English translation by H. Rushton Fairclough. The Loeb Classical Library. London; New York: Harvard University Press, 1930.

The description of the "Moretum," a Roman dish which most likely derives its name from "mortarium" (the mortar used for its preparation) has survived in several pieces of Latin literature. One of the most famous is the following poem from the so-called "Appendix Vergiliana." The protagonist of this poem, a poor old farmer, prepares his sparse breakfast using the ingredients found in his small garden.

Additional descriptions of the Moretum have come down to us in Ovid's Fasti, and, in prose form, in Columella's De re rustica. The ingredients of the Moretum may vary. While Vergil (or the poet of the Moretum) mentions only a few ingredients (cheese, garlic, coriander, parsley, and oil …), in Columella's description we find also a few other ingredients such as savory, mint, chives, lettuce, walnuts, sesame, and pine nuts.

Thus the consistency of the Moretum may vary according to the ingredients used, from a kind of spread to a salad-type dish. Mona Talbott and the RSFP have prepared a version of Moretum based on Virgil's poem, but modified to accommodate the gusto of our modern palate. The following recipe is an example of a modern version of Moretum used in a restaurant outside of Rome. This illustrates well that the Roman tradition has survived not only in literature, architecture, and the fine arts, but also in the culinary arts.

MORETUM

300 grams of Pecorino cheese
2 soup spoons of olive oil
4 cloves of garlic
1 soup spoon of vinegar
2 celery stalks (in Vergil's poem it is the leaves of the celery that is used)
A few servings of green rue
1 handful of the leaves of coriander

Boil the slices of garlic in a small pot and place in a mixing bowl pecorino cheese, or another hard cheese, a couple of peeled celery stalks, a few fresh leaves of coriander or parsley, and some rue and salt. Since the cheese is already salty, it is best to taste before adding salt. Mix everything together adding olive oil and some vinegar.