To explore — select an ingredient below.
To explore — select an ingredient below · click any location dot on the map for recipes and stories · browse the information panel on the right · trace the full journey on the timeline.
Journey Point Map Key
the rose wine of the Roman table: fresh petals stripped of their bitter white heels, steeped in wine in a linen bag for three changes over three weeks, then honeyed and strained for the banquet
Origin: Italy
From the journey of Rose.
No society has consumed roses on the Roman scale. Petals were strewn across banqueting floors by the cartload, imported out of season from Egypt at ruinous cost, worn as garlands at every feast, and hung above the table, where a rose suspended over the diners marked what was said beneath it as confidential and gave Latin the phrase sub rosa. Rosatum is the drinking end of that culture, and the recipe survives in the collection that goes under the name of Apicius, where it sits beside its violet counterpart, violacium, at the head of the book on aperitifs. The method described is careful and specifically insists on stripping the white heel from the base of each petal, which is bitter and would spoil the wine, and on steeping the petals in a linen bag through three separate changes over as many weeks, so that the perfume accumulates without the vegetal taste of stewed flowers. Honey went in at the end. It was drunk as an appetiser, the mulsum family of honeyed wines being the standard opening of a Roman meal. Almost none of this survived the empire: Italy has no living rose cuisine, and what Rome actually passed on was the plant itself, Rosa gallica, left growing in the villa gardens and monastery cloisters of Gaul and Britain.
Use only roses you know to be unsprayed and food-safe; florist roses are routinely treated and are not edible. The most fragrant old varieties, damask and gallica above all, give far more than modern hybrid teas, which have often been bred for form and vase life at the cost of scent. Apicius gives the same method for violets, and adds that those without roses to hand may use fresh citrus leaves for a similar effect. The result is a curiosity rather than an everyday drink, and it is best understood as a historical reconstruction: pale gold, aromatic, and sweeter than a modern palate expects. A dry rosé in place of the white gives a prettier colour and is not authentic, though it is pleasant.
To explore — select an ingredient below.
To explore — select an ingredient below · click any location dot on the map for recipes and stories · browse the information panel on the right · trace the full journey on the timeline.
Journey Point Map Key