(Medieval and Post-Medieval Mediterranean Archaeology) Roos Van Oosten - Medieval Masterchef_ Archaeological and Historical Perspectives on Eastern Cuisine and Western Foodways-Brepols Publishers (201

m e di e va l m a st e rch e f
Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 1 28-04-17 11:05

* * *
m e di e va l a n d post-m e di e va l
m e di t e r r a n e a n a rch a eology se r i es
ERI .
ES MEDIE
VA
.S
Y
.
L
G
ARCHAEOLO
AN
.
D POST MED
.
.
N
EA
IE
VA
LM AN
EDITERR
.
m. p.m
a. s
.ii.
Cover illustration:
s a m u e l se rv e s w i t h i n t h e t e m pl e
Old Testament miniatures, ms m. 638, fol. 20r – Maciejowski Bible, ca. 1244-1254, Paris, France
Purchased by J.P. Morgan (1867-1943) in 1916
Courtesy of The Morgan Library & Museum, New York

* * *
M E D I E VA L M A S T E R C H E F
*
a rch a eologic a l a n d h istor ic a l pe r spect i v es
on e a st e r n cu isi n e a n d
w est e r n foodways
*
e di t e d by
J OA N I TA V RO OM
Y O N A WA K S M A N
R O O S VA N O O S T E N
F
H

* * *
m e di e va l a n d post-m e di e va l
m e di t e r r a n e a n a rch a eology se r i es – i i
*
Series editor
dr . joa n i ta v room
Leiden University (nl)
*
e di tor i a l boa r d
Prof. John Haldon, Princeton University (usa)
Dr. Archibald Dunn, University of Birmingham (uk)
Prof. Sauro Gelichi, University of Venice (it)
Prof. Scott Redford, soas, University College London (uk)
Prof. Enrico Zanini, University of Siena (it)
*
Typesetting & book design
st ev e n bol a n d
*
pr i n t e d
on acid-free paper
*
© 2017
br epol s pu bl ish e r s n.v. , t u r n hou t, be lgi u m
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanic, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
isbn 978-2-503-57579-7 (printed version)
isbn 978-2-503-57611-4 (online version)
doi 10.1484/m.mpm as-eb.5.113395
d/2017/0095/104

* * *
Contents
*
List of contributors 7
joa nita v room, yona wa ksm a n & roos va n oosten – Preface 13
*
e a r ly m e di eva l & e a r ly isl a m ic pe r iod
joh a n na m ar i a va n w inter 25
Arabic influences on European Medieval cuisine
josé c. carvaja l lópez & miguel jiménez puertas 33

Cuisine, islamisation and ceramics in the south and east of al-Andalus
yasemin baĞci & joa nita v room 63

Dining habits at Tarsus in the Early Islamic period:
A ceramic perspective from Turkey
lubna om ar 95
Approaching Medieval cuisine: Employing zoo-archaeological methods
on Anatolian faunal assemblages
*
m e di e va l pe r iod
ruth sm a dar ga br ieli, yona wa ksm a n, 119

a nastasia shapiro & a lessa ndr a pecci
Cypriot and Levantine cooking wares in Frankish Cyprus
joa nita v room & elli tzavella 145

Dinner time in Athens: Eating and drinking in the Medieval Agora
joh a n na m ar i a va n w inter 181

Festive meals in the Late Middle Ages: An essay on alimentation
as means of communication

con t e n t s
roos va n oosten 193

A Medieval cooking revolution: Changing ceramic cookware ca. 1300
as a window into cooking infrastructure, fuel, and food transitions
*
l at e m e di eva l & e a r ly mode r n pe r iod
m auro libr enti, cecili a moine & lar a sa bbionesi 223

From table to identity: Understanding social changes through tableware
(A case study of San Paolo in Modena, Italy)
a lex a ndr a va n dongen 245

Global dining with Erasmus: The Early Modern European dining table
va n ver rocchio 257

Material culture in Early Modern Abruzzo, Italy: Archival and archaeological sources
filiz yenişehir lioğlu 291

A journey of taste: Eastern coffee and western coffee cups in Turkey
*
m e di e va l m a st e rch e f i n t h e k i tch e n
claudi a va ndepoel 311

Blanc Manger, cooking a historical recipe made for a Tudor king
joa nita v room, mink va n ijzendoor n, 323

m arten va n nieu w koop & k atelin post
A matter of taste: The experiment of a ‘Byzantine food lab’ placed in socio-historical
context
m ary c. beaudry 353

Epilogue: Mastering the art of Medieval European table culture
*
list of figur es & colour plates 357
index of geogr aphica l na mes & food 367
colour plates 369

* * *
List of contributors
*
yasemin bağcı is currently a PhD candidate at the Faculty of Archaeology of Leiden University
(Near Eastern Archaeology). Her PhD focuses on the Early Islamic pottery finds of the 1935-1948
Tarsus-Gözlükule excavations in Turkey. She started studying Post-Antique ceramics for her Mas-
ter’s thesis under the supervision of S. Redford at Koç University, in particular the Late Medieval
pottery from the Archaeological Museum of Istanbul. Between 2011 and 2015, she was employed by
J. Vroom in the vidi research project ‘Material Culture, Consumption and Social Change: New Ap-
proaches to Understanding the Eastern Mediterranean during Byzantine and Ottoman Times’ (funded
by nwo). Her expertise covers Medieval and Post-Medieval ceramics from the Middle East.
mary c. beaudry is Professor of Archaeology, Anthropology, and Gastronomy at Boston Univer-

sity. Her research interests include historical and industrial archaeology of the Americas and British
Isles, archaeology of food, households and domestic life, and the material culture of cookery and din-
ing. Her recent books include Archaeology of Food: An Encyclopedia (co-edited with Karen Bescherer
Metheny, 2015) and Beyond the Walls: New Perspectives on the Archaeology of Historical Households
(co-edited with Kevin Fogel and James Nyman, 2015). Email: beaudry@bu.edu
jose c. carvajal lópez is Lecturer in Islamic Archaeology at UCL Qatar. By training he is a

specialist in the archaeology of al-Andalus (Islamic Iberia) and in pottery analysis. He has studied
the Early Islamic period in the Vega of Granada (southeast Spain, 7th-11th centuries ce), mainly
through morpho-typological and technological studies of pottery that include petrological as well
as elemental analysis. He has published about Islamisation and about the development of the archae-
ology of al-Andalus. At the moment he is developing fieldwork projects in Qatar, Palestine and Iraqi
Kurdistan. He is the director of two projects with QNRF funding: ‘Materiality and Preservation in
Islamic Contexts’ and ‘The Crowded Desert’.

m e di e va l m a s t e rc h e f
alexandra van dongen is a museologist and art historian. She has been working at the Boijmans
Van Beuningen Museum in Rotterdam (nl) since 1986, initially as assistant-curator and from 1992
onwards as curator of pre-industrial design. Her specialism focuses on decorative domestic artefacts
dating from the Middle Ages through the 19th century. In 2011 she launched the online research
project alma (Art Meets Artefacts): www.alma.boijmans.nl/en/. She is a member of codart and
icom/icdad, and board member of Foundation The Time Stairs. With Alma Ruempol she pub-
lished Pre-industrial Utensils 1150-1800 (Rotterdam, 1991).
smadar gabrieli is an independent researcher, affiliated with the University of Sydney and the
University of Western Australia, and currently a Marie-Curie Fellow at the saxo Institute, Uni-
versity of Copenhagen. She works as a ceramics specialist at excavations in Israel and in Cyprus,
focusing on hand-made pottery industries from Late Antiquity to the Crusader and Mamluk peri-
ods. Recent publications include articles on regional development of handmade pottery in Medieval
Cyprus (Cypriot Medieval Ceramics: Reconsiderations and New Perspectives, 2014), on craft-special-
ization of handmade pottery in the Levant and Cyprus (Medieval and Post-Medieval Ceramics in
the Eastern Mediterranean, 2015), and with B.J. Walker and D. Ben-Shlomo on production of the
Hand Made Geometrically Painted Mamluk pottery (in the Journal of Islamic Archaeology 1, 2014).
miguel jiménez puertas is an independent scholar who holds since 1999 a PhD in Medieval His-
tory from the University of Granada (Spain). His research interests include history and archaeology
of Islamic Spain, and in particular he has worked on studies of settlement patterns, pottery, and
agrarian and economic history. His main publications are the monograph El poblamiento del terri-
torio de Loja en la Edad Media (Granada, 2002), in which he develops a full study of the settlement
patterns and material culture of the area of Loja in south-east Spain; Los regadíos tradicionales del
territorio de Loja (Loja, 2007), an archaeological analysis of early medieval irrigation systems; and
‘Studies in the Early Medieval Pottery of al-Andalus’ (in Early Medieval Europe 19, 2011).
mauro librenti is a professor of Post-Medieval Archaeology at Ca’ Foscari University, Venice

(Italy). His main scholarly interests are focused on dynamics of rural and urban settlements and
material culture, especially from religious communities during the Late Middle Ages and the Early
Modern Era. His most recent article is: Territorio e insediamento tardomedievale tra Emilia e Ro-
magna (in Archeologia Medievale 43, 2016).
cecilia moine is a post-doctoral researcher at Ca’ Foscari University, Venice (Italy); her main area
of interest is social archaeology, with a particular focus on the Late Middle Ages. Recently, her inter-
ests moved to landscape analysis and relationship between man and environment. A recent article of
hers is: Definire lo spazio e organizzare la mensa: Il Trecento a Venezia (in Archeologia Medievale 43,
2016, with M. Ferri and C. Moine).

l i s t of con t r i bu tor s
marten van nieuwkoop studied Byzantine and Frankish ceramics under the supervision of
J. Vroom at the Faculty of Archaeology of Leiden University. In 2015 he finished his Master’s thesis
titled On Vessels and Viands: Cooking and Consuming during the Late Byzantine/Frankish Period in
the Aegean (ca. 1200-1500 ad).
lubna omar is a zooarchaeologist and viositing professor at the Anthropology Faculty of suny
Binghamton University (usa). She carried out field work in Syria, Jordan, Turkey and Japan, but her
primary research focus is north Mesopotamia, where she worked on reconstructing the socio-eco-
nomic patterns of several urban centers using the analysis of animal remains. Currently, she is work-
ing on publishing the results of her previous field work from Syrian sites to highlight the importance
of documenting archaeological work in this critical region. Her publications include various articles
in Al-Rafidan, (2010); The Archaeological Review from Cambridge Human and Animal (2013) and in
Eurasian Journal of Anthropology (2014, with A.C. Erkman).
roos van oosten is Assistant Professor of Urban and Medieval Archaeology at the Faculty of
Archaeology, Leiden University (nl). Her main research focus is on sanitation management and
urbanization in the preindustrial period (1200-1800). A secondary focus is preindustrial ceramic
distribution patterns in relation to long-term economic trends. She is on the editorial board of Me-
diaeval and Modern Matters, a member of the advisory board of the Dutch classification system
for Late-Medieval and Post-Medieval ceramics and glass, and chairperson of the Dutch Society for
Medieval Archaeology. Her PhD thesis is published in Dutch with the title De stad, het vuil en de
beerput. De opkomst, verbreiding en neergang van de beerput in stedelijke context (Leiden, 2015). In
2017 she starts a veni project, funded by nwo, with the title ‘Challenging the Paradigm of Filthy and
Unhealthy Medieval Towns’.
alessandra pecci is a ‘Ramón y Cajal’ researcher at eraaub, Departamento de Historia i Ar-

queologia, Universidad de Barcelona, where she teaches and does research. Her specialization is Ar-
chaeometry and in particular the residue analysis of ceramics and floors. With the aim to understand
ceramic use and foodways, activity areas and the use of space in Ancient buildings, her work is fo-
cused on the study of food practices in Ancient times. She has published more than 110 articles, book
chapters and books, and has organized International Conferences, Summer Schools, Workshops and
Conference Sessions. She collaborates with many institutions in Europe, usa and Mexico and has
worked in national and international projects in Italy, Spain, France, Morocco, Turkey and Mexico.
katelin post has studied Byzantine ceramics for her Bachelor’s thesis under the supervision of
J. Vroom at the Faculty of Archaeology of Leiden University. In 2017 she will finish her thesis titled
in Dutch ‘Wit Byzantijns aardewerk in beeld. Een onderzoek naar de clasificatie, iconografie en
distributie van wit geglazuurd Byzantijns aardewerk’.

lara sabbionesi is an expert in Medieval and Modern pottery at Ca’ Foscari University, Venice,
and she has recently defended her PhD dissertation in archaeology about hygiene and waste disposal
in northern Italian cities. A good exemple of her many fields of interest is her research on tobacco
pipes and coffee cups in: S. Gelichi and L. Sabbionesi (eds.), Bere e fumare ai confini dell’Impero. Caffè
e tabacco a Stari Bar nel periodo ottomano (Florence, 2014).
anastasia shapiro works as a geologist at the Israel Antiquities Authority, northern district. She
is involved in the research of i.a. petrography of pottery, geology, pottery manufacture, Ottoman
clay tobacco pipes, archaeological surveying and gis. Her recent publications include: Petrographic
Analysis of the Crusader-Period Pottery. Chapter 5 in E.J. Stern, ‘Akko I: The 1991-1998 Excavations,
The Crusader Period Pottery, IAA Reports 51 (Jerusalem, 2012); in ‘Atiqot 83 (2015, with D. Avsha-
lom-Gorni) and in ‘Atiqot 87 (2016).
elli tzavella is Adjunct Lecturer of Byzantine Art at the Open University of Cyprus, Studies
on Hellenic Culture. She completed her PhD on the Urban and Rural Landscape in Early and Mid-
dle Byzantine Attica in Birmingham (2013), currently under publication. She was as a post-doctoral
researcher (2013-2015) at Leiden University (nl) employed by J. Vroom in the vidi research project
‘Material Culture, Consumption and Social Change: New Approaches to Understanding the Eastern
Mediterranean during Byzantine and Ottoman Times’ (funded by nwo). She has published various
articles on the Byzantine settlement history of Attica and of the Corinthia (Central Greece), on Late
Roman and Byzantine ceramics, and on Medieval burial customs in the Aegean in academic journals.
claudia vandepoel studied Museology in Leiden at the Reinwardt Academy, and worked in
several museums. In 2006 she started her company ‘The Historical Kitchen’. She has been working
since then on historical and archaeological culinary research, and has organized ‘tastings’ on special
periods and subjects. Currently she is studying the 16th-/17th-century agricultural developments in
and around the city of Leiden, after the garden of Carolus Clusius (the Hortus Botanicus Leiden)
was planted in 1594. Her publications include Sapor Limitis, de smaak van de Limes, Romeinse re-
cepten uit het gebied van Albaniana (Vlaardingen, 2013).
van verrocchio is an independent researcher, and member of the ‘Centro Ligure per la Storia
della Ceramica’ (Savona), and of the ‘Società degli Archeologi Medievisti Italiani’ (sami). He has
conducted research on Italian ceramic production as an external collaborator for the archaeologi-
cal service (‘Soprintendenza’) of Abruzzo. Furthermore, he has collaborated with the preparations
of the Medieval and Post-Medieval sections of the Archaeological Museum of Sulmona (aq ), the
Civic Museum of Alfedena (aq ) and the Museum of Ceramics of San Domenico in L’Aquila. His
publications include La ceramica postmedievale in Abruzzo. Materiali dallo scavo in piazza Caporali
a Castelfrentano (ch) (Florence, 2002), articles in the journals Archeologia Medievale and Archeologia
10

l i s t of con t r i bu tor s
Postmedievale, and a chapter on Medieval and Post-Medieval pottery in Domenico all’Aquila. Restau-
ro del complesso monumentale (Verona, 2011). Lastly, he co-founded the journal Azulejos. Rivista di
Studi Ceramici (2004-2010).
joanita vroom is Associate Professor at the Faculty of Archaeology, Leiden University (nl),
specializing in Medieval and Post-Medieval archaeology in the eastern Mediterranean. She takes
an interest in the social-economic (production and distribution) and cultural aspects (cuisine and
dining habits) of ceramics. Earlier she published After Antiquity: Ceramics and Society in the Aegean
from the 7th to the 20th century A.C. (Leiden, 2003), Byzantine to Modern Pottery in the Aegean:
An Introduction and Field Guide (Utrecht, 2005; Turnhout, 20142), Medieval and Post-Medieval
Ceramics in the Eastern Mediterranean: Fact and Fiction (mpmas 1; Turnhout, 2015), as well as
many book chapters and articles in academic journals. For further information on her various re-
search projects, see: www.academia.edu/JoanitaVroom as well as www.universiteitleiden.nl/en/
stafmembers/joanita-vroom.
johanna maria van winter, born in 1927, is since 1989 emerita professor in Medieval History
at the University of Utrecht. Her research covers i.a. food and health in the Middle Ages, about
which she from 1966 onwards published numerous books and articles, often with contemporaneous
illustrations. One of her important monographs is Spices and Comfits. Collected Papers on Medieval
Food (Blackawton & Totnes, 2007).
yona waksman is a senior researcher at the French National Center for Scientific Research
(cnrs, umr 5138, Maison de l’Orient et de la Méditerranée, Lyon). After a PhD in nuclear phys-
ics applied to archaeology, she specialized in archaeometric approaches to Medieval ceramics in
the eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea. Her interests include provenance and technology
of ceramics from this area, and the insight they give into foodways. She directed several national
and international projects, lately the pomedor project ‘People, Pottery and Food in the Medieval
Eastern Mediterranean’, and investigated ceramics from a number of sites, including major ones
such as Constantinople/Istanbul, Thessaloniki, Thebes, Chalcis, Acre and Beirut. Her research
contributes scientific data to economic, cultural and social studies of the Byzantine world and the
Medieval Middle East.
mink van ijzendoorn has studied Byzantine ceramics for his Master’s thesis under the supervi-
sion of J. Vroom at the Faculty of Archaeology of Leiden University. In 2016 he finished his thesis
titled ‘Mapping the Ceramics: A comparative and quantified study of the distribution of Cham-
plevé Ware in the Mediterranean Region and in the Near East during the Middle Byzantine period
(ca. late 12th-early 13th century)’. Recently he has published an article on the same subject in In &
Around: Ceramiche e comunità (Florence, 2016, with J. Vroom).
11

filiz yenişehirlioğlu is Professor of Ottoman Art and Architecture at the Department of Ar-
chaeology and History of Art of Koç University in Turkey. She is also the Director of Vehbi Koç
Ankara Studies Resarch Center of the same university. Recent publications are: Representation of
lyrical beauty: The image of a courtesan at the Topkapı Palace in the seventeenth century, Art, Trade
and Culture in the Islamic World and Beyond: From the Fatimids to the Mughals Studies Presented
to Doris Abouseif- Behren (London, 2016); Les grands jarres dans les maisons d’Istanbul au xixème
siecle : les exemples des quartiers d’Eyüp et d’Ayvansaray, Jarres et grands contenants entre Moyen Age
et Epoque Moderne, Actes du 1er Congrès International Thénmatique de l’a iecm3 (Aix-en-Provence,
2016, 297-301).
12

* * *
Preface
Joanita Vroom, Yona Waksman & Roos van Oosten
The study of food and nutrition is a rapidly expanding area of historical and archaeo-
logical research and, in recent years, we have seen an exciting wealth of publications in
this field, ranging from specialist studies to websites for the general public. However,
an overall, integrated view on eating habits, diet practices, cuisine, social developments
and related aspects of material culture in Medieval and Post-Medieval Europe is lack-
ing. In all sorts of ways, the great potential of a multidisciplinary and interdisciplinary
approach addressing the evolution of foodways over time is still far from being fully
exploited, notwithstanding recent substantial advances in archaeological research on
the subject. The aim of the current volume Medieval MasterChef: Archaeological and
Historical Perspectives on Eastern Cuisine and Western Foodways is to discuss the way
forward in this rich field of study by presenting, side by side, the wider perspectives
of archaeology, history and art history with those of specialisms such as ceramology,
archaeozoology, anthropology and experimental archaeology.
This volume originates from a session which was initiated and organised by us for
the 20th Annual Meeting of the European Association of Archaeologists (eaa) at Istan-
bul in 2014.1 The purpose of this session was to shed light on the development of food
manners and eating habits in Europe and the Mediterranean related to encounters over
time between population groups with different material cultures and different cultural
identities. These encounters ranged from military conflicts to mercantile exchanges,
and other nonviolent processes of cultural interaction. As dining practices and diets are
important markers of social and cultural identities, changes in food consumption help
Medieval MasterChef, ed. by Joanita Vroom, Yona Waksman, Roos van Oosten, Medieval and Post-Medieval Archaeology
Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 13-22 © 13

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113475

us to understand the impact of these complex encounters on daily life in all levels of
society. For example, there is a significant, if not always fully understood, relationship
between changing foodways and changes in material culture related to food, ranging
from pottery to dining utensils.
If anything, the story of societies’ food and foodways is a story of the ongoing pro-
cesses of acculturation and enculturation. This certainly holds true for the various com-
munities, social groups and political entities which were interacting in Medieval and
Post-Medieval Europe and the Mediterranean. Until now, however, the consequences
of the interactions between these groups, in the material culture of daily life and their
relations to changing food practices, has been little studied in an interdisciplinary and
wider geographical, chronological perspective.
This volume sets out to explore the integration of the historical, archaeological,
and anthropological perspectives on foodways in Medieval and Post-Medieval Europe.
The focus is both on changes in the archaeological repertoire of well-dated excavated
contexts, and on changes in food products, preparation methods and dining etiquette.
Specific attention will be paid to the role of pottery (ranging from serving dishes to
transport jars or cooking pots) and other artefacts in the evolution of food customs,
dining practices, cooking techniques and cuisine. Discussions will cover the extent to
which archaeological data studies are enriched by the analyses of organic residues raw
materials and research on the techniques of manufacture, including these as indicators
of adaptations in pottery production to new dining fashions and new demands by the
people using the pottery.
Of course, the use of other major sources of information on changing foodways are
also explored and discussed in this volume. These include written texts, describing reci-
pes in cookery books or etiquette regulations with respect to table manners and bodily
cleanliness during meals, and pictorial evidence of the role of food in society, such as
miniatures from illustrated manuscripts, engravings, oil paintings and even embroi-
dered tablecloths.
One of the leading perspectives, which ties the various contributions in Medieval
MasterChef together, is the question how, when and why changes in table wares (made
of pottery, metal or glass), cooking utensils, faunal remains and other food-related
markers took place, both in the East and West, in relation to changing dining practic-
es. Were developments in the East fundamentally different from those in the West?
To what extent is it, for instance, possible to fully understand the relations between
the various aspects of ‘cooking revolutions’, such as changing pottery shapes, prepara-
tion techniques, food customs, dietary practices, perhaps even to house transforma-
tions? Furthermore, were the ‘cooking revolutions’ in the Low Countries (witnessed
by quite sudden fundamental changes in the cooking infrastructure) an exception,
14

v ro om , wa k sm a n & va n o os t e n – pr e fac e
or are similar developments also visible elsewhere in Medieval and Post-Medieval

Europe? In short, can we fruitfully integrate changes in cultural behaviour, culinary
processes and aspects of material culture in a broader interdisciplinary archaeological
and historical perspective, let alone understand these changes as part of the evolution
of a society as a whole?
Our ideas for the 2014 session, and for this volume, originated from two research
projects; these were, until now, mainly concerned with consumption and foodways
in the eastern Mediterranean. The first one is Joanita Vroom’s vidi project ‘Mate-
rial Culture, Consumption and Social Changes: New Approaches for Understanding
the Eastern Mediterranean during Byzantine and Ottoman times’, which was funded
by The Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research (nwo) between 2010 and
2015. The second one is Yona Waksman’s pomedor project entitled ‘People, Pottery
and Food in the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean’, funded by the French National
Research Agency (anr) between 2013 and 2017.
We felt a need to expand the questions addressed by these two projects to the west-
ern Mediterranean and to north-western Europe. Consequently, we invited special-
ists working in these regions to share with us their knowledge and expertise, among
them José Carvajal Lopéz, Alexandra van Dongen and Roos van Oosten. Further-
more, we invited the distinguished historian Johanna Maria van Winter, known for
her many influential publications on Medieval and Post-Medieval food and cuisine
in north-western Europe, to include two revised and fully updated articles of hers in
this volume.
There are several good reasons for choosing a ‘Pan-European’ perspective. Firstly,
there were all sorts of interactions between ‘westerners’ and populations in the eastern
Mediterranean during the Medieval and Post-Medieval periods, due to the Islamic
and Turkish conquests, the Crusades, the presence of foreign merchants and the start
of trade colonies by the Italian maritime republics, just to mention the most obvi-
ous few. And, besides discussing the exchange of foodways and eating habits between
these newcomers and the populations in the East, we also wanted to learn more about
changing diets and cooking practices of western populations in their homelands.
Secondly, the approach of food and foodways from an archaeological perspective
in eastern Mediterranean studies is a relatively new field of study, and in various ways
still lagging behind studies of food and foodways in Western Europe. Whereas com-
bining the expertise of specialists in archaeozoology, archaeobotany, anthropology
and archaeological scientists, who all approach various aspects of food, is standard
academic practice in Western Europe, this is unfortunately not yet the case in the
eastern Mediterranean; in particular when we are dealing with excavated Medieval
15

fig. 1 – Map with most important regions mentioned in the contributions in this volume, ordered
by chapter sequence: 1. southern Spain (e.g., Granada, Almería, Cordoba); 2. south-eastern Turkey
(e.g., Tarsus, Gritille); 3. Cyprus (e.g., Paphos, Polis, Phini, Nicosia); 4. central Greece (e.g., Athens,
Corinth, Chalkis); 5. The Netherlands (e.g., Leiden, Utrecht, Rotterdam); 6. northern Italy (e.g.,
Modena); 7. central Italy (e.g., Castelli, Chieti, Ortona); 8. north-western Turkey (e.g., Istanbul, Iznik,
Kütahya) (drawing J. Vroom).
16

and Post-Medieval layers on sites from classical antiquity. There is a growing number
of exceptions to this rule, such as the interdisciplinary integrated investigations in
Medieval and Post-Medieval Ephesus (in western Turkey), but these are still rare.
Thirdly, the trend in modern archaeology is to move beyond the question of estab-
lishing typo-chronologies and to use a more multidisciplinary approach to address
broader questions. This leads to the involvement of many different specialists (on
wares, material and scientific aspects), and to the endeavour to integrate their findings
and views. These specialists often work for various projects all over the Mediterranean,
sometimes even all over Europe; they study material from many different places, thus
creating the opportunity to connect finds from various parts of the Mediterranean
and Europe. This is truly a major step forward compared to the old practice of archae-
ologists often working almost their entire professional life on one or two sites.
For reasons of clarity, we present the various contributions in this volume in a chron-
ological order and divided over four parts. The first part of Medieval MasterChef con-
cerns the Early Medieval & Early Islamic period and offers four articles on subjects
within this time range.
The first is an updated and revised article by the historian Johanna Maria van
Winter, ‘the grand old lady’ of studies in Medieval European cuisine. In her chapter,
‘Arabic influences on European Medieval cuisine’, she explores with the help of in-
gredients mentioned in Medieval cookery books the migration of foodstuffs and the
various ways of preparing them from the East to the West. These movements of ingre-
dients and preparation methods resulted partly from trade relations and partly from
conquest and colonisation. Van Winter shows that the Medieval European cuisine has
been inspired by the Arabic example, but was never constrained by it.
The purpose of the second contribution, written by José C. Carvajal López and
Miquel Jiménez Puertas, is to explain from an archaeological perspective changes in
cuisine practices and society in al-Andalus, the Iberian Peninsula during the Islamic
period (8th to 15th centuries). In their article ‘Cuisine, islamisation and ceramics in
the south and east of al-Andalus’, they point to the existence of two main cultur-
al influxes in food habits and cooking techniques in their region of study; the first
came from the eastern Mediterranean during the 8th-10th centuries and the second
came from North Africa in the 12th-13th centuries. In order to fully understand the
alternating foodways, they compare changes in the production and use of ceramics,
such as glazed and unglazed cooking wares (for making bread) and glazed dishes (for
serving food), from various Iberian sites with changes in recipes from cookery books
of the Andalusi period. Carvajal López and Jiménez Puertas show, not only how the
combination of pottery finds and textual sources enables them to identify food habits
17

and cooking techniques, but also to elucidate the social context of cuisine practices of
Islamic communities in the western Mediterranean.
Yasemin Bağcı and Joanita Vroom present in ‘Dining habits at Tarsus in the Early
Islamic period: A ceramic perspective from Turkey’ a similar approach, but this time
using a selection of Islamic pottery finds from the eastern Mediterranean. It concerns
two groups of glazed table wares of the Abbasid period (ca. 8th -10th centuries), which
were excavated in the 1930s by an American team on the Gözlükule Mound in Tarsus
(south-eastern Turkey). Due to its strategic position on a major cross-road between
East and West, Tarsus became one of the most important centres of the Thugur, the
fortified region on the Islamic-Byzantine frontier during Abbasid times. Both groups
of glazed serving vessels from the Gözlükule Mound excavations are discussed in this
chapter from the perspective of their shapes, motifs, distribution to the relation be-
tween form and function. Furthermore, an attempt is made to understand the ceram-
ic finds from Tarsus in the context of Abbasid dining culture in the East by exploring
textual sources, among which include the 10th-century Baghdadi cookbook Kitab
al-Tabikh, and pictorial evidence from illustrated Islamic manuscripts.
The chapter ‘Approaching Medieval cuisine: Employing zoo-archaeological meth-
ods on Anatolian faunal assemblages’ by Lubna Omar demonstrates how Islamic
settlements of the Abbasid period, in southern Turkey, integrated animal resources
in their dietary practices and nutrition choices. With the help of archaeozoological
research methods (assessing, for instance, the most abundant meat resources and
butchery patterns as well as using statistics and comparative inter-sites observations),
she discusses food culture and cooking practices of the Early Islamic period in south-
ern Anatolia, a region where Eastern and Western influences played a major role in
shaping the daily lives of the inhabitants. Although the number of faunal studies for
this period is limited in Turkey, Omar presents material from recent excavations on
the Gözlükule Mound at Tarsus (mentioned above) and compares these with faunal
remains from Grittile, Ziyaret Tepe and Tell Tuneinir in south-eastern Turkey, as well
as with remains from Kaman-Kalehöyük and Sagalassos, more to the north and west.
In addition, she sets out to enrich her research on patterns of animal economy in this
part of the Mediterranean with written texts.
In the next part of the volume Medieval MasterChef four chapters are presented under
the heading ‘Medieval period’.
The first is a collaborative paper, written by Ruth Smadar Gabrieli, Yona Waks-
man, Anastasia Shapiro and Alessandra Pecci. In ‘Cypriot and Levantine cooking
wares in Frankish Cyprus’ they discuss their approach of combining on-site exami-
nation of visible use marks and quantification with archaeometric methods, includ-
18

ing chemical analyses to investigate provenances and organic residues. Their research
concerns 13th century cooking wares from Cyprus and the Levant, and their aim is to
establish regional trade patterns and to identify shifts in foodways. By the end of the
12th century, Cyprus was annexed to the Crusader Levant and one of the visible effects
of this change in the status of the island, within the archaeological record, is the evi-
dence of an intensive exchange of ceramics between the island and the mainland. The
authors show that Cyprus became part of the regional distribution networks of the
Crusader Levant and was also integrated into the trade network between Europe and
the Levant. Significantly, in addition to the circulation of glazed tablewares between
the island and mainland, there was a one-way traffic of cooking wares into Cyprus
from the Levant and its impact on foodways and local cooking wares is investigated.
In their contribution ‘Dinner time in Athens: Eating and drinking in the Medi-
eval Agora’ Joanita Vroom and Elli Tzavella focus on Late Medieval (mid/late 13th-
to 15th-century) ceramic finds from a well in the Athenian Agora. Until now, this
material has not been looked at from a larger-scale examination (vessel’s shape and
dimensions, fabric and use marks) nor from a wider cultural perspective of food prepa-
ration and food consumption. Vroom and Tzavella set out to use this well-preserved
ceramic repertoire from a closed excavated context to shed light on eating habits and
dining manners in Athens under Latin (‘Frankish’) domination. In combination with
the Agora pottery finds (consisting of both locally made and imported wares), other
sources of information (written texts, pictorial evidence) are used to shed light on the
food repertoire and table ware display in Late Medieval Athens.
Johanna Maria van Winter discusses the situation of Medieval Western Europe in
the chapter ‘Festive meals in the Late Middle Ages: An essay on alimentation as means
of communication’. This is an updated and revised version of an earlier article about
the communicative value of dining during the Middle Ages, both in its physical and
its spiritual meaning. Examples of the physical aspect are the many prescriptions in
texts about table manners and bodily cleanliness, whereas the spiritual aspect can be
found in festive meals with religious motives.
Roos van Oosten shows in her contribution ‘A Medieval cooking revolution:
Changing ceramic cookware ca. 1300 as a window into cooking infrastructure, fuel,
and food transitions’ that the ceramic repertoire changed profoundly in the Low
Countries in the wake of the ‘urban revolution’. She applies a ‘tripod model’ to eluci-
date in what way changing ceramics may be related to shifts in food, fuel and cooking
infrastructure (such as the fire place). Van Oosten stipulates that it is not yet possible
to interconnect all the major and minor changes in this field with each other; the
approach opens up all sorts of possibilities to explore interdisciplinary avenues in stud-
ying (the Dutch) cooking revolutions.
19

The next part of Medieval MasterChef covers the Late Medieval and Early Modern
period with four chapters.
Mauro Librenti, Cecilia Moine and Lara Sabbionesi underline in ‘From table to
identity: Understanding social changes through tableware (a case study of San Paolo in
Modena, Italy)’ the role of conviviality and food processing in 15th- and 16th century
Italian religious communities. By examining choices in dinner sets and cooking wares,
they try to shed light on changes in dining habits in the period of the Counter-Ref-
ormation, beginning with the Council of Trent (1545-1563). As a case study, they have
chosen the nunnery of San Paolo in Modena, where two dumps were excavated and
dated respectively to the late 15th and late 16th centuries. Both dumps included glazed
table wares and cooking sets used by this religious community before and after the Tri-
dentine Council. Their study of pottery shapes, typologies, volumes, decorations and
customised items shows a profound change in community dynamics, which must have
been quite evident during meal times. The comparison with finds from other religious
communities in Modena highlights to what extent the Counter-Reformation trans-
formed everyday life inside cloisters and how important conviviality was in individual
and communal representations.
In the chapter ‘Global dining with Erasmus: The Early Modern European dining
table’, Alexandra van Dongen uses the perspective of an art-historian to investigate
table manners in the West. By using contemporary Dutch and European paintings,
drawings and engravings, she presents an imaginative reconstruction of a 16th century
dining room of an upper-class household. She offers a picture of a room with heavy
furniture and oriental carpets, and of a dinner table with all the artefacts and utensils
of this period. These range from an embroidered table cloth and napkins to glazed
table services, cutlery and wine glasses. Furthermore, she adds the perspective of the
appropriate table manners and etiquette rules, as written by Desiderius Erasmus of
Rotterdam (1466-1536), to fully understand the 16th century domestic artefacts and
archaeological finds from various European cities, as well as the depicted utensils on
works of art.
Ceramics are often by far the most common artefacts in archaeological excava-
tions, and they contribute significantly to our knowledge reconstruction of kitchens
and table settings in Medieval and Post-Medieval houses. However, Van Verrocchio
shows in his contribution ‘Material culture in Early Modern Abruzzo, Italy: Archi-
val and archaeological sources’ that objects made of other materials (such as metal,
glass, wood) are equally important for our study of foodways. With the help of archi-
val research, particularly post-mortem inventories, he studies various items used in
households of nobles, citizens and artisans in some coastal cities in the Abruzzo region
(Central Italy) during the Early Modern period (ca. 16th-17th centuries). By compar-
20

ing this archival data with archaeological finds he sets out to reconstruct the inventory
of cooking, storage and table services in various Abruzzo households.
This section finishes with a well-deserved cup of coffee. Filiz Yenişehırlioğlu ex-
plores in ‘A journey of taste: Eastern coffee and western coffee cups in Turkey’ the
introduction of coffee to Europe and the creation of new ceramic types for drinking
and pouring this hot beverage. The first coffee house in Turkey was opened in Istanbul
in the 16th century by two merchants from Damascus. This did not lead immediately
to the creation of a new type of drinking vessel; rather multi-functional traditional
small cups (in a Chinese style) continued to be used. The shapes of these coffee cups
slowly changed throughout the centuries, on the rhythm of developments in Ottoman
society. However, the spectacular successful introduction of coffee in Western Europe
lead to the creation of new types of recipients, such as cups with saucers. These, in their
turn, influenced the manufacture of coffee cups in the Ottoman Empire, as is shown
for instance by recent finds from excavations of Ottoman pottery kilns at the Tekfur
Palace in Istanbul.
The final part of the book is entitled ‘Medieval MasterChef in the kitchen’ and it is
here that the Medieval and Post-Medieval chef-de-cuisine enters the scene with the
help of experimental archaeology. This section includes two chapters.
In the first, ‘Blanc Manger, cooking a historical recipe made for a Tudor king’, the
culinary historian Claudia Vandepoel discusses four different versions of a famous
Medieval and Post-Medieval recipe, also known in Old French as blanc mangier. This
was a truly ‘international’ Medieval dish, essentially made of white chicken meat. Af-
ter discussing the Blanc Manger recipes of 1350, 1510 and 1580, Vandepoel presents
a do-it-yourself method for recreating the last version of Tudor times, followed by a
more recent variant of 1903 by Georges Auguste Escoffier. To save us trouble, she even
carefully describes what the taste of the Blanc Manger would be if we were to actually
prepare the Tudor recipe.
The second article in this section written by Joanita Vroom, Mink van IJzendoorn,
Marten van Nieuwkoop and Katelin Post, continues on the subject of taste. In ‘A
matter of taste: The experiment of a ‘Byzantine food lab’ placed in socio-historical
context’ they present a study which combines ethno-archaeological theory with ex-
perimental research, in an effort to comprehend the views of modern consumers on
Byzantine foodways. After preparing actual Byzantine dishes and drinks, their field
research focuses on questions such as: How present-day Europeans perceive Byzan-
tine food? To what extent do they relate the Byzantine cuisine to social status? What
are their assumptions about Medieval and specifically Byzantine recipes? And, final-
ly, how do these views relate to anthropological and historical examples of modern
21

supra-cultural experiences of dining habits and food consumption? The aim of this
chapter is to discuss the interview data obtained from questionnaires completed by
over 300 participants during an experimental-archaeological ‘Byzantine food-lab’,
which was part of a ‘Crafts Market’ in 2014 in the city of Leiden, The Netherlands.
Finally, the distinguished gastronomic archaeologist Mary C. Beaudry rounds up

this volume with a concluding essay. In her ‘Epilogue: Mastering the art of Medieval
European table culture’ she acknowledges that combining archaeological data, infor-
mation on material culture and textual evidence in the study of culinary history is of
paramount importance in developing a comprehensive and textured way to under-
stand meals and mealtimes in the past.
In this book, we have tried to present a variety of cultural and culinary encounters
between East and West, as well as a variety of encounters between archaeological and
historical approaches; on the one hand data on the actual ingredients of recipes, food
displays and eating habits and cuisine on the other. We hope this collection presents
the same liveliness and inspiring directness as the contributions demonstrated when
they were offered during the round table session in 2014. But most of all, we hope that
the contributions in Medieval MasterChef: Archaeological and Historical Perspectives
on Eastern Cuisine and Western Foodways both satisfy your yearning for intellectual
food and whet your appetite for more.
Leiden, November 2016
*
not es
1 We would like to thank the Netherlands / Fransız Anadolu Araştırmaları Enstitüsü

Organisation of Scientific Research (nwo), (ifea) for their financial contributions in
the French National Research Agency (anr, support of the 2014 session in Istanbul. –
under reference anr-12-cult-0008) and Furthermore, we would like to thank Katie
the Institut Français d’Études Anatoliennes Lee-Smith for proofreading this volume.
22

* * *
E A R LY M E D I E VA L
&
E A R LY I S L A M I C P E R I O D

* * *
pr epa r i ng medici ne from honey
*
Detail from an illustrated manuscript of an Arabic translation of
De Materia Medica of Dioscorides, calligrapher ‘Abdullah ibn al-Fadl
dated ah 621/ ad 1224, Baghdad
Codices, Bequest of Cora Timken Burnett, 1956, 57.51.21
Courtesy of Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

* * *
Arabic influences on
European Medieval cuisine
Johanna Maria van Winter
i n t roduct ion
Within the theme of this publication, Medieval MasterChef, the Arabic influence on
the Medieval cuisine of Southern and Western Europe provides an useful example
of the migration of foodstuffs and the various ways of preparing them.* This likely
resulting partly from trade relations and, partly, as a consequence of conquest and
colonisation. In the case of the Arabs, the movement was rather one-sided from East
to West. This was probably due to the origins of the handled foodstuffs, coming to
Europe from the Near and Far East, and the colonists, people with a highly developed
cuisine, who had migrated from the Caliphate of Damascus to Spain and the islands
of the Mediterranean.
The Muslims conquered those parts of the Byzantine Empire that lay along the
eastern and southern coasts of the Mediterranean rapidly after 632 (Cyprus in 649)
and defeated the Wisigothic kingdom of Spain from 711 onwards. South of the Pyr-
enees, however, some small Christian states offered resistance, and from about 1030
started to reconquer the Muslim territory. Over the course of the next centuries this
movement gave birth to the Kingdoms of Portugal, Castile and Aragon to which the
city of Barcelona belonged, the stronghold of the Catalan language. It is, in this Cat-
alan tongue, that a Medieval cookery book from the 14th century has been handed
down to us, El libre de Sent Soví (‘The book of Sent Soví’), which testifies to the Arabic
influences on Catalan cuisine.1 This is, however, not the only example of Arabic in-
fluence on south-European cookery; it is also, for example, testified by the two Italian
manuscripts edited by Marianne Mulon.2

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113476

n e w i ngr e di e n ts
In the Far East, the Muslims had already conquered the river area of the Indus soon
after 711 which enabled them to build up economic relations with India, the Malay
Peninsula, Sumatra and China. From the 9th century, they not only made use of the
existing silk route through Asia, but also of a variety of spice routes through the main-
land using camels or by ship on coastal routes. By way of the Levant, these products
were originally handled by Jewish merchants. However, from the 11th century, they
were also handled by Christians among whom the merchants of Venice played a pre-
dominant role. In this manner, spices such as pepper, cardamom and ginger, which
had already been imported from Asia by the Romans, reached Southern Europe and,
later, Western Europe. In addition to these, cinnamon, cloves, galingale, maces and
nutmeg became available for use in the kitchen which had not been the case with the
Romans. Thus, in Medieval Europe a number of new ingredients was introduced and,
in addition, access was improved to already known sources of supply.3
Besides spices, another ingredient’s existence that we owe to the Arabic trade is
cane sugar which has its origins in India, but was already refined in the Sassanid Per-
sian Empire by about 600. After the defeat of this state by the Byzantine Empire in
627, the Greeks became acquainted with this sugar. However it was only after the
Muslim conquest of Iran, in about 642, that the cultivation of sugar-cane spread
throughout the whole of the Islamic world. Cyprus is likely to have acquired it shortly
after the Islamic conquest of 649 and Spain shortly after 711. In Sicily, it was presum-
ably planted after the first (unsuccessful) Muslim attack before 700. With the defeat
of Muslim conquerors, the sugar plantations were not destroyed but remained under
cultivation.4
In the hand-written cookery books of Western Europe, which exist from the end of
the 13th century, sugar, together with oriental spices, are normal everyday ingredients
being used. This is not only in sweet dishes but also in pies and stews of meat, fish and
poultry. It was sold by the spice trader who offered it for sale not only for the kitchen
but also for medical use, to sweeten electuaries and potions. For the latter application,
the apothecary boiled the sugar into a syrup, a word of Arabic origin (sharab).5 Of
course, sugar was rather expensive and, therefore, these recipes were meant only for
the upper classes. Ordinary people, mostly peasants, will have used honey especially if
they were bee-keepers. This being said, honey was also an expensive commodity to buy.
A third category of products that reached us through the movement from the Ar-
abic world is the citrus fruits, in particular the lime and the bitter orange. Limes are a
small kind of lemon but with a sourer, tart taste. Bitter oranges can be compared with
the Seville orange, being a citrus fruit with a small amount of bitter-sour juice and a
26

va n w i n t e r – a r a bic i n f lu e nc e s
thick bitter peel. Its name in Indian is naranga, and in Persian nâranj. Compared to
sugar, these fruits took much longer to be accepted in Western Europe. By the 14th
century, they are occasionally referred to in cookery books and household accounts
from north of the Alps and, in the 16th century, they are more often mentioned. Bitter
oranges reached Western Europe via the harbour of Messina and they were called, for
that reason, sijnappelen in Medieval Dutch, and in Modern Dutch, sinaasappelen; this
has nothing to do with their alleged origin of China.6
The lime gave its name to a recipe, found in a 14th-century Latin cookery book
Liber de coquina, called ‘De limonia’. The chicken is fried with onions and bacon, then
boiled in a mixture of meat stock with peeled almonds that have been pounded in a
mortar and, shortly before serving, sprinkled with lime or bitter orange juice. The
pounded almonds in the stock resemble milk and thicken the dish during the cooking
process; if almonds are not readily available, the recipe says, the dish can be thickened
with egg yolks.7 This recipe was probably translated from the above mentioned Latin
‘Liber de coquina’ into a 14th-century Italian version. Here it is called ‘Di limonia di
polli’. It can be found in the Tuscan book ‘Libro della cocina’ and has the same prepa-
ration method except that the peeled almonds have been replaced by unpeeled grains
of wheat to be mixed with pork stock.8
n e w ways
These various methods of preparation lead us to another aspect of the Arabic influence
on Medieval European cuisine. Both the specific sequence of frying and then boiling,
and the use of pounded almonds in liquid, are derived from Arabic cuisine. European
recipes sometimes prescribe the parboiling of mutton or fowl, i.e. boiling briefly to
prepare it for the frying.9 This has the advantage of taking away the watery fat and
making the fried mutton or fowl taste better. In Arabic cuisine, however, which had
probably undergone strong Persian influence, meat is often fried first and only after-
wards is it boiled in plenty of liquid with various added ingredients.10 The fat used for
frying is, of course, never bacon, as it is in our Latin and Tuscan recipes, because pork
was and is forbidden to Muslims. Instead, fat from a sheep’s tail is used, indicated
by several recipes from a 13th-century Baghdad cookery book. There, moreover, we
also find a recipe for ‘Limuwiya’ in which this kind of fat and preparation is used and
which could have served as a model for our ‘limonia’.11
As well as the sequence of frying and boiling, our Latin ‘limonia’ recipe provides
us with another characteristic feature of Arabic cuisine: the use of almond milk for
thickening. To make almond milk, almonds must be peeled, pounded in a mortar
and subsequently stirred with liquid to achieve the desired milky substance. This can
27

be done with water, rosewater, wine, or meat, fish or fowl stock. This milky liquid
has a strong thickening quality when boiled (and burns easily, therefore must be kept
stirred). The Muslims didn’t mix the almonds with wine, which had been forbidden
by the Prophet Mohammed, however wine was used by their Christian imitators.
The Romans did use almonds within cooking however did not make milk from
them and, as a result, did not use them for thickening. Almonds were roasted and
added to sauces for fowl and meat12 but they were not used as a basic element for sauc-
es, stews or ragouts, as in the Medieval cuisine. The Arabs, however, did employ them
in this basic way for cooking and, in particular, within their stews. Therefore, hypo-
thetically, the Christians may have learned this method from them. The 14th-century
Catalan cookery book El libre de Sent Soví, already mentioned above, contains many
recipes with almond milk,13 which subsequently made their way to north of the Pyr-
enees. The contact with the Moors in Spain, in this case, had probably been a fruitful
one. For the Christians, almond milk had the advantage that it could be used the
whole year round. This included the forty days of fasting from Ash Wednesday to
Easter, during which the use of cow’s milk was forbidden.
There is still another product that we owe to the Arabs, and that is pasta in strands
such as like macaroni and spaghetti. Here, as was the case with almond milk, a new
method of preparing an old and well-known ingredient was borrowed, wheat flour.
The date of the invention of pasta is still under discussion among historians,14 but I
have become convinced that the Greeks and the Romans already knew about pasta in
sheets, as distinct from strands, such as seen in lasagne. In the Roman cookery book
by Apicius these sheets are already mentioned; This is in their rather solid form,, they
are called by their Greek name lagana, and,when rolled very thin and can be crumbled
between the fingers, they are called tracta.15 Later on, in the Italian cookery books of
the 14th and 15th centuries, lagana became lasagne, which is the same word we use
today.16 The Greeks also called pasta sheets itrion, or in the plural, itria, a word that
is used by the physician Galenos of Pergamon in the 2nd century.17 He thought it un-
healthy and fattening, a judgement that was adopted by Christian Byzantine authors
from the 4th until the 7th century.
From the 9th century, when the Arabs started to translate the Greek writings of
Galenos, they employed the same word, itriyya, but understood it no longer to refer to
sheets but rather to strands of pasta. It is not clear if they had invented the preparation
of the strands themselves or whether they had been taught to make them by the Chi-
nese, with whom they had built up trading relations from the 9th century onwards.
From the 12th century onwards, they exported these dried strands from Sicily. These
also appear in the 13th-century Baghdad cookery book mentioned above, in recipes
called ‘itriya’ and ‘rishta’, made with macaroni and spaghetti.18 The Catalan Libre de
28

Sent Soví from the 14th century, calls them ‘alatria’,19 and they are found, thereafter,
in Italian cookery books under several names.
Besides new ingredients, new methods of preparation and better access to the
Asian markets, the Arabs also gave names to new recipes that betray the Arabic in-
fluence within them. We have already come across the ‘limonia’ but there is also an
Arabic recipe called ‘ma’muniyyat’ that, via the Latin ‘mamonia’, may have become
the ‘mawmene’ of the fourteenth and fifteenth century English cookery books, if the
etymology is correct. In the original Arabic version, this is a sweet porridge made
of milk with sugar, rice flour and chicken breast which was a favourite of Caliph al-
Ma’mun in 9th-century Baghdad. According to an English recipe of the 15th century,
the porridge is made from almond mash and wine mixed together with added sugar,
spices, quinces and chicken.20 Wine is not permitted in Islamic cuisine but it helps to
make a very tasty dish in the hands of Christian cooks!
com pa r ison
European cuisine has been inspired by the Arabic example but never constrained by it.
The combination of tastes is also different: the flavours of many dishes in the Medieval
cuisine of the European upper classes is created via a mixture of sour, sweet and spicy
ingredients. These dishes are not as sweet as Arabic delicacies, nor do they show the
Arabic preference for the taste of mastic, a resinous tree from the Aegean island Chios,
or the exaggerating use of curdled milk. The Christians obviously associated the Mus-
lim cuisine with sharp spices and gave the name ‘brouet sarasinoiz’ (Sarrasin ragout)
to an eel stew with ginger, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, galingale, pepper and saf-
fron21. This being said, the 13th-century Baghdad cookery book previously mentioned
was not as lavish in its employment of these ingredients. A mixture of fried chicken
boiled in wine (first fried, then boiled) with subtropical fruits, which was found in the
14th-century Tuscan cookery book, also got the name ‘Del brodo saracenico’ (Sarrasin
ragout),22 although it does not taste spicy and, like the English ‘mawmene’, contains
the forbidden wine as an ingredient.23 In conclusion, the Muslim cuisine did not pass
unnoticed by the Christians and they thankfully made use of the new ingredients and
methods of preparation offered by the Muslims.
* Updated and revised text of an article with the same title, first published in: P. Lysaght (ed.), Food
and the Traveller: Migration, Immigration, Tourism and Ethnic Food, Nicosia 1998, 276-80.
29

not es
1 Santanach 2008 (translated into English by Arberry 2001, 46; newly translated in Perry
R. Vogelzang). 2005, 37-38).
2 Mulon 1971. 12 André 1965, 170, nrs. 226-27 (vi/v/2-3); 222,
3 André 1961, 209-12; Lewis 1970, 69-78; nr. 337 (viii/i/8).
Miquel 1966, 1048-64, particularly 1059-60, 13 Grewe 1979, passim.
with detailed description of the market at 14 See for this discussion, Laurioux 1995.
Mainz. 15 André 1965, lagana: 110-11, nrs.141-42 (iv/
4 Baxa and Bruhns 1967, 7-9, ‘Zucker bei ii/14-15); tracta: e.g. 124-30, nrs.165-71 (iv/
Persern und Arabern’. iii/1-7); 141, nr.181 (v/i/3); ‘orbiculos tractae’,
3 207, nr.300 (vii/xiii/5).
5 Georgine and Ferrier 1981, 186; Plouvier
1988, 28-47, particularly 35-36; De 16 E.g., Faccioli 1966, 51, ‘De le lasagne’.
Backer 1990, 99-100, with several recipes 17 See for this and the following remarks,
throughout the book. Laurioux 1995, 199-215.
6 Viaene 1965, 289-94; Debrabandere 1965, 18 Arberry 1939, ‘Itriya’ and ‘Rishta’ (reprinted
409-11. in Arberry 2001, 53, 54; newly translated in
7 Mulon 1971, 402, Liber de Coquina ii nr.12, Perry 2005, 48).
‘De limonia’. 19 Grewe 1979, 182-183, cap.clxx and clxxi, ‘Qui
8 Faccioli 1966, 38, ‘Di limonia di polli’ (19-57, parla con se cou alatria’ and ‘Qui parla con se
for the first time edited by Zambrini 1863). cou carn ab alatria’.
9 Scully 1988, 41. 20 Rodinson 1962, 733-747 (translated into
10 Arberry 1939, 21-47, 189-214, e.g., chapter English in Rodinson 2001, 183-97); Mulon
ii, Plain dishes (42-47); cf. Wilson 1981a, 1971, 407 (Liber ii nr.47), ‘De mamonia’;
13-22 (especially 15); 1981b, 28. Arberry’s Austin 1964, 88, ‘Mawmene’.
Baghdad Cookery-Book has been reprinted 21 Georgine and Ferrier 1981, 221-22 nr. 123,
in Rodinson, Arberry and Perry 2001, 19-89; ‘Brouet sarasinoiz’.
ch.ii, Plain Dishes, 51-57 (newly translated 22 Faccioli 1966, 33, ‘Del brodo saracenico’.
in Perry 2005, 45-53). 23 See for recent literature on this subject,
11 Arberry 1939, 39, ‘Limuwiya’ (reprinted in Ouerfelli 2008; Nasrallah 2010.
30

bi bl iogr a ph y
André, J. 1961. L’alimentation et la cuisine à Rome, Paris.

André, J. (ed. & trad.) 1965. Apicius, L’art culinaire, De re coquinaria, Paris.
Arberry, A.J. 1939. A Baghdad cookery book (translated from the Arabic), Islamic Cul-
ture xiii, 21-47, 189-214.
Arberry, A.J. 2001. A Baghdad cookery book (translated from the Arabic), in: M.
Rodinson, A.J. Arberry and Ch. Perry (eds.), Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and
Translations (with a foreword by Claudia Roden), Blackawton & Totnes (Devon):
19-89.
Austin, T. (ed.) 1964. Two Fifteenth-Century Cookery-Books: Harleian Ms. 279 (ab.
1430) & Harl. Ms. 4016 (ab. 1450), With Extracts from Ashmole Ms. 1439, Laud Ms.
553 & Douce Ms. 55, London.
Baxa, J. and G. Bruhns 1967. Zucker im Leben der Völker, Berlin.
De Backer, C.M.E. 1990. Farmacie te Gent in de late middeleeuwen: Apothekers en
receptuur, Hilversum.
Debrabandere, F. 1965. Kortrijks gijnappel contra sijnappel, Biekorf. Westvlaams
Archief voor Geschiedenis, Oudheidkunde en Folklore 66, 409-11.
Faccioli, E. (ed.) 1966. Arte della cucina, Libri di ricetti, testi sopra lo scalco, il triciante
e i vini dal xiv al xix secolo, Milan.
Georgine F. and J.M. Ferrier (eds.) 1981. Le Menagier de Paris, Oxford.
Grewe, R. (ed.) 1979. Libre de Sent Soví (Receptari de cuina), Barcelona.
Laurioux, B. 1995. Des lasagnes romaines aux vermicelles arabes: quelques réflexions
sur les pâtes alimentaires au Moyen Age, in: E. Mornet (ed.), Campagnes médiéva-
les: l’ homme et son espace. Etudes offertes à Robert Fossier, Paris, 199-215.
Lewis, A.R. (ed.) 1970. The Islamic World and the West A.D. 622-1492, New York,
London, Sydney & Toronto.
Miquel, A. 1966. L’Europe occidentale dans la relation arabe d’Ibrâhîm b.Ya’qûb (xe s.),
Annales Economies, Sociétés, Civilisations 21, 1048-64.
Mulon, M. 1971. Deux traités inédits d’art culinaire médiéval, Bulletin Philologique et
Historique (jusqu’ à 1610) du Comité des Travaux Historiques et Scientifiques, année
1968, 369-435.
Nasrallah, N. 2010. Annals of the Caliphs’ Kitchens. Ibn Sayyar al-Warraq’s Tenth-Cen-
tury Baghdadi Cookbook, Leiden.
Ouerfelli, M. 2008. Le sucre. Production, commercialisation et usages dans la Méditer-
ranée médiévale, Leiden.
Perry, Ch. 2005. A Baghdad Cookery Book, The Book of Dishes (Kitāb al Tabīkh), Petits
Propos Culinaires 79, Blackawton & Totnes (Devon).
31

Plouvier, L. 1988. La confiserie européenne au Moyen Age, Medium Aevum Quotidi-

anum, Newsletter 13, 28-47.
Rodinson, M., A.J. Arberry and Ch. Perry (eds.) 2001. Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays
and Translations (with a forward by Claudia Roden), Blackawton & Totnes.
Rodinson, M. 1962. La ma’muniyyat en orient et en occident, in: Etudes d’Oriental-
isme dédiées à la mémoire de Lévi-Provençal, tome ii, Paris, 733-47.
Rodinson, M. 2001. Ma’mūniyya East and West, in: M. Rodinson, A.J. Arberry and
Ch. Perry (eds.), Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and Translations (with a forward
by C. Roden), Blackawton & Totnes, 183-97.
Santanach, J. (ed.) 2008. The Book of Sent Soví. Medieval Recipes from Catalonia,
Martlesham, Suffolk & Rochester, ny (translated by R. Vogelzang).
Scully, T. (ed. & transl.) 1988. The Viandier of Taillevent. An Edition of all Extant
Manuscripts, Ottowa.
Viaene, A. 1965. Appelen van oranje: invoer en verspreiding in de Lage Landen 1300-
1650, Biekorf. Westvlaams Archief voor Geschiedenis, Oudheidkunde en Folklore 66,
289-94.
Wilson, C.A. 1981a. The Saracen connection: Arab cuisine and the Mediaeval West,
Petits Propos Culinaires 7 (March 1981), 13-22.
Wilson, C.A. 1981b. The Saracen connection: Arab cuisine and the Mediaeval West,
part 2, Petits Propos Culinaires 8 (June 1981), 19-28.
Zambrini, F. (ed.) 1863. Anonimo Toscano, Libro della Cocina, Bologna.
32

* * *
Cuisine, islamisation and ceramics

in the south and east of Al-Andalus
José C. Carvajal López & Miguel Jiménez Puertas
i n t roduct ion: cu lt u r a l ch a nge a n d cu isi n e
Changes in cuisine practices cannot be disentangled from wider cultural change; this
is mainly due to their central role in social identity and cultural practice. However,
it is this centrality which makes the interpretation of cuisine practices so elusive. As
these practices are significant to many aspects of life, their material manifestations,
the main target of archaeological research, need to be identified in many expressions
of daily life. Worthy archaeological interpretations require the concourse of several
threads of evidence, as recent valuable scholarship has shown.1
The object of study within this paper is the relationship between cuisine practices
and society in al-Andalus, the Iberian Peninsula, during the Islamic period (8th to
15th centuries ce). There have been previous studies on the written sources dealing
with cuisine practices in this region,2 yet not so much from an archaeological perspec-
tive. A useful way to tackle this analysis is to confront ceramic objects, those recovered
from the archaeological record related to cuisine and food presentation practices, with
recipe books of the Andalusi period as well as with current anthropological habits
from North Africa. This will help us to understand how these objects were used, and
how faithfully archaeological data reflects what written sources suggest or how they
otherwise indicate alternative fashions. A similar approach has been used before in
studies dedicated to the Roman period.3
In addition, another approach in addressing practices related to cuisine is to con-
sider them as technologies, or rather, using Brian Pfaffenberger’s terminology,4 as parts
of ‘sociotechnical systems’.5 A sociotechnical system considers the dialectic relation
Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 33-62 (+ plates p. 371) © 33

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113477

between society and the techniques used by the people of that society, and therefore
it is a useful concept to grasp the sociality of human technological development.6 The
advantage of including cuisine practices in the sociotechnical system is that it provides
us with an excellent way to consider the different fields to which they are related. Un-
derstood as a technology embedding social and technical practices at the same time,
the lines along which cuisine develops in a society are a direct continuation of the
lines defining other social and technical practices, such as ideological preferences and
taboos, constraints derived of uses of technical resources or reproduction of traditions.
In the same line of thought, this study of cuisine will focus on the relationships be-
tween cuisine and pottery within the sociotechnical systems that came into existence be-
tween the formation of al-Andalus from the 8th century until the 12th century. Remarks
on other social conditions will be included as well when appropriate. Since the analysis
is focused on a particular historical period in which specific sociotechnical conditions
were developed, it is important to start the discussion with two elements that have influ-
enced our research significantly: Islamisation and urbanisation.
isl a m isat ion
Due to the fact that the 8th century marked the start of Islamisation in Iberia (con-
quered 711), we have to consider how this was a factor that changed cuisine habits
and pottery at the same time. Islamisation in archaeology should not be considered
uniquely as a process of conversion to Islam, but one with more complexity which
involved social and cultural changes that touched upon every aspect of life.7
The debate on the transition from Antiquity to the Middle Ages has produced val-
uable data, interpretations and models for the understanding of the transformations
between both periods8. In this debate, however, the role of Islam has definitely been
understudied.9 Considering that the inspiration of the whole debate was the pioneer-
ing study of Henri Pirenne entitled Mohamed and Charlemagne (published in 1937),10
it can be said that it was about time that Muslims were considered within the picture.
There is no doubt that Islamisation, understood in a wider sense as a cultural
change, is related to the cuisine changes. The Islamisation of Iberia started after the
conquest of the Peninsula by the Muslims in a fast campaign (711-714) that left the
main areas under Muslim control. After the conquest, numerous groups of Muslims,
Berbers and Arabs moved into the Peninsula in several waves.11 Settled in different ter-
ritories of al-Andalus under varied circumstances, these Muslim groups would coexist
with other conquered groups and would have to negotiate their life conditions within
a shared environment. The newly arrived Muslims would have political advantages
due to their status of conquerors, however that does not imply that they would have
34

c a rvaja l l ópe z & j i m é n e z pu e rta s – c u i s i n e , i sl a m i s at ion
had the right to do as they pleased. There are various pieces of evidence that suggest
that very often Arabs needed permissions and agreements to occupy lands and use
resources.12 Intermarriages were also possible, and they often occurred as a result of
strategic political alliances.13 Coexistence between different groups happened, as cul-
tural exchange did.
This coexistence is easy to see in three main features, all of which had impact on
the cultural practices of cuisine: irrigated agriculture, changes in diet and new ceramic
forms. Although the original idea of the ‘Green Revolution’ was associated with the
Islamic expansion14 it is not accepted in its main lines nowadays,15 there is a clear rela-
tionship between the latter and the expansion of irrigated agriculture. Textual-based
scholarship has tended to focus on the introduction of particular species and techniques
as experiments in gardens belonging to rich landowners.16 If this model of change is to
be accepted, then we would have to admit that the influence of the results of irrigated
agriculture into cuisine had trickled down from high social classes and these changes
were slow and dependent on the institution of a particular social order.
Then again, the archaeology of al-Andalus has shown that small-scale systems of
irrigated agriculture, under the control of peasant communities, were widespread.17
These systems did not necessarily introduce new crops, as they were more focused on
the intensification of production of more traditional species (above all wheat). None-
theless, their impact in cuisine changes should not be underestimated. On the one
hand, an increase in food production could directly affect cultural practices in dif-
ferent ways. This could include the need for storage, the development of recipes that
could make use of staples, or the possibility of exchanging and, as a result, the possible
introduction of a more varied diet. Indirectly, the appearance of these systems is evi-
dence of the coexistence of groups from different cultural backgrounds, and hence of
the introduction of diverse social identities that would stimulate the production of
different cuisine cultures. Another indirect consequence of the spread of irrigation is
changes in husbandry practices that resulted in variations of specific animals; this can
be detected with the help of morphometric studies in zooarchaeology.18
The changes in diet required by Islam are well known. In this field the first line
of research that comes to mind is the ban on certain products, like alcohol and pork.
Although the tolerance of Muslims to other religions is well known, there is no doubt
that the practices of Islam would have impact on the development of social customs
of other religious groups within the vicinity. A good example is the group of fatwas19,
compiled by Andalusi authors, that document the ban on the erection of new church-
es in places where Muslim communities were living. One of them, from a Malikī
scholar of Madīna known as Ibn al-Mājīshun (d.c. 830), states that ‘churches must not
be built in the lands of Islam […] unless the dimmī-s [non-Muslims] are far away from
35

inhabited Muslim territory/ from its vicinity and no Muslims live amongst them. In
this case, they are not banned of building churches or having wine or pigs.’20 The last
sentence suggests that the ban on churches was extended also to include wine making
and pig farming in everyday circumstances.
Bans like these could be extended to vessels exclusively used for the production or
consumption of these goods. For example, a fatwa from the 9th century in Ifriqīya
from ‘Abd Allāh b. Tālib (d. 888/889) has explicit instructions about copper vessels
that were solely used for wine storage: ‘alter their shape, break them, turn them back to
copper and return the copper to their owners […]. And forbid that they continue to be
made.’21 The ban from pig farming can also be identified in the archaeological record
with archaeozoological analyses.22 In general, however, something that at first glance
should be easy to identify with standard analyses (e.g., lack of pig’s bones) is not nec-
essarily that simple. In fact, bones of forbidden species are found in the archaeological
record. It is difficult to know if they are there as the remains of the diet of tolerated
Christian groups or as proof that the process of Islamisation was not straightforward.
These two alternative explanations have different implications for cuisine culture.
However, not all changes in diet can be explained from the point of view of Islamic
bans. The connection of al-Andalus to the wider Islamic community also means an ex-
change of species, technologies and access to trade goods that enriched the diet of their
communities. The debate about the expansion of irrigation practices and species has
been summarised above, though it is worth noting here its specific impact on diet. There
is, at the moment, not sufficient information on the discussion as to whether a wider
range of species was introduced in the Mediterranean because of the Islamic conquest, as
Andrew Watson suggested,23 or already existed before this expansion, as other scholars
have argued.24 However, there is no doubt that there was an important change in the
scale of use of irrigated agriculture, and that it surely accounted for a wider variety in
diet.25 To this day, however, archaeological research on this subject is still at its infancy.26
Islamisation had a deep influence in changes on pottery technology, and more so in
the case of al-Andalus. The arrival of new population groups and their cultural influ-
ences can be noted in the innovative shapes and techniques that are recovered all over
the Iberian Peninsula. The rest of this chapter is dedicated to these changes. Some of
them, identified in the south-eastern part of the Peninsula, will be listed and discussed
below in more detail (see also Fig. 1).
u r ba n isat ion
The collapse of the political and economic structure of the Roman Empire led to se-
vere damages to the communication lines that kept the realm together, and ultimately
36

to an urban crisis that weakened the links between state and towns and empowered
local landowning elites.27 This development had consequences for cuisine culture that
escape the scope of this analysis. The focus of this paper is on changes in ceramic tech-
nology, which have been earlier summarised by Paul Arthur as the disarticulation
of the extensive imperial infrastructure which led to a decline in trade, this, in turn,
stimulated local production of pottery as opposed to large and complex workshops.
Finally, it concluded in a lower variability of shapes and techniques and a decrease of
quality overall.28
The changes considered by Arthur can be ultimately explained by the decrease
of communications in the Mediterranean because of regionalisation. In the case of
the Iberian Peninsula, this regionalisation was particularly acute due to the rough
relief and the cultural and climatic variability that can be found in relatively short
distances. The urban crisis of the 3rd and 4th centuries in Hispania was not ended
by the rule of the Visigoths. Although some cities thrived, particularly in the south
west (e.g., Hispalis/Seville or Corduba/Cordoba), urban life never reached the levels
of the rest of the Roman Empire, and the structure of the territory was more a sepa-
rated mosaic of urban hinterlands and rural areas than an urban network.29 This did
not change much with the arrival of the Muslims in the eighth century. The situation
only began to change with the steady growth of power of the Umayyad rulers of Cor-
doba, during the 9th and 10th centuries, when a new urban network was established
throughout the Iberian landscape. Towns would become home to a rich economic
industrial infrastructure that would guarantee a reasonable urban influence on the
rural areas.
Here lies one of the important turning points in ceramic technologies of the Is-
lamic period in al-Andalus: the rise of urban workshops. During the earlier Islamic
centuries, pottery production in the south-east of al-Andalus was based in rural, possi-
bly individual, workshops; this is suggested by a study on the manufacture of cooking
pots in the densely populated Vega of Granada between the 6th and 9th centuries.30
It is likely that similar circumstances must have existed in other regions of the south
east, which have been studied in less detail.31 After the 10th century, cooking pot pro-
duction in the Vega of Granada was concentrated in towns from which products were
exported to other rural settlements, even those which produced pots in the previous
period.32 This change occurred clearly when the urban network of the Umayyad state
of Cordoba became consolidated. Concentration of workshops in towns resulted here
in more standardised production.
The relationship between changes in pottery technology and those in cuisine cul-
ture, however, is not easy to prove. Technological changes are, by definition, linked
to social dynamics. Within a period, when the different regions of al-Andalus were
37

undergoing complicated processes of Islamisation, many factors of change took place

at the same time. This is a situation that requires looking in detail at specific relevant
changes documented in the shapes of ceramics.
a ssessi ng ch a nges i n t h e v eg a of gr a na da
a n d i n t h e sou t h a n d e a st of a l -a n da lus
In this part, we will discuss the changes in pottery technology in relation to cuisine
culture between the start of the Islamisation process (8th century) and roughly the
13th century, when the features of cuisine culture in al-Andalus became very similar
to what we know about Islamic Mediterranean culture nowadays. We will focus on
the area of the Vega of Granada, a basin between mountains in the south-east of the
Iberian Peninsula that carries the name of its most important town. The reason for
focussing on this region is that it is relatively very well studied and has an interesting
history of Islamisation and urban development (including the towns of Ilbīra, Gra-
nada and Loja), which can be used for establishing useful comparisons (Fig. 1). The
pottery from the Vega of Granada is particularly well known to the authors of this
paper, of which they have studied and published extensively.33 The changes that are
listed below have been previously observed in the archaeological record of the Vega of
Granada, and have subsequently been compared with other areas under study.
Comparisons will be drawn with other regions in the south-east where infor-
mation is available. It is important to remark that the south-eastern area of Iberia
contains a mosaic of very heterogeneous spaces with relatively independent socioeco-
nomic and political developments. The pottery from such a varied range of places is,
of course, different, but it is precisely this comparative perspective what allows us to
observe general changes in contrast to more localised ones. This in turn places us in
a better position to understand the innovative elements in the relationships between
cuisine culture and pottery technologies.
The changes listed below include new techniques and shapes found during the ear-
ly Islamic period. The arrival of new settlers in Iberia caused more than changes in the
balance between irrigated and dry agriculture landscape. The ceramic record of the
centuries after the Islamic conquest shows important modifications, the most relevant
of which are the introduction of new shapes and manufacture techniques. The dating
of these changes is still controversial because it is very difficult to date with accuracy
the earliest deposits of the Islamic period in al-Andalus, except in very exceptional
circumstances. Nevertheless, we have enough data selected for this study to establish,
with certainty, that these changes became widespread in this region during the 8th
century. This does not mean, however, that they were uniform all over the analysed
38

territory or that changes did not continue until later. In the Vega of Granada, for ex-
ample, data retrieved from seven separate sites suggests that the pottery landscape was
changing and dynamically so up to the 9th, and even 10th, centuries.34
In the following paragraphs, several vessel types will be discussed with their ar-
chaeological names. It must be noted that there is no way to establish a clear relation-
ship between the archaeological denomination of vessels and their historical names.
Two reasons can be given for this. Firstly, the semantic field of historical names is very
wide and different archaeological categories can fit into one. Secondly, vessel names
belong to the dominion of domestic terms and many different names can be given
to the same item in different regions, with almost an infinite variation due to local
circumstances. For an insight into these problems, it is worth consulting the work of
Guillermo Rosselló Bordoy entitled ‘The Names of the Things in al-Andalus’.35
Lastly, when describing changes, we will address two different functional fields:
cooking wares and tablewares. They are related but have different lines of development
and different problems to be understood.
cook i ng wa r es
a) Wares for making bread

Bread making, and particularly its baking, is a very marked cultural feature in many
societies. It follows, therefore, that the archaeological information that we can gather
around this concept is very relevant. Sonia Gutiérrez Lloret dedicated an important
study to this phenomenon which will be used as a baseline for our argument.36
With respect to the written sources, there are two texts that are useful for the discus-
sion in this section. One of them is the Etymologiae of S. Isidore of Seville (7th century)37
and the other is the Kitāb al-Tabīkh (cuisine book) from an anonymous author, written
during the Almohad period (13th century).38 For Isidore, there were two ways of baking
bread in domestic contexts: in-between ashes or in a ceramic vessel.39 It is very likely that
this vessel for baking bread is the panera that has been found in archaeological contexts
(Fig. 2; also known in other European countries as testo and in North African countries
as ṭājīn), dated in the south of Iberia to between the 5th and the 8th centuries (perhaps
even later). It is a kind of large handmade open vessel with a very thick and rudimentary
profile. Besides its probable use for bread baking, its shape suggests that it could also have
been used as a serving vessel40 or even as an open cooking pot. It has been recovered in
rural contexts, like El Castillejo de Nívar (in the Vega of Granada), and in urban con-
texts, like Cartagena during the Byzantine period (6th to 7th centuries).41
In the 13th century, the Kitāb al-Tabīkh provides a more varied picture. Firstly, it
points out that ‘the desert folk like mallā [bread cooked in ashes], because it is their
39

food, and the people of the cities and capitals detest it’. Then it adds: ‘some find bread
[cooked] on the coals [ashes] very good, and others prefer fried bread and what is
made in the tajine [sic]; add to these the [bread] oven and the tannur [sic] [clay oven],
in which many kinds of bread are made.’42 The text highlights that the bread can be
baked on a vessel (ṭājīn).43 This may correspond to unglazed open cooking pots that
are found in different contexts, such as Ilbīra in the 9th century. However, it does
seem that more often people used baking disks without any walls, which are widely
found in contexts of the 9th to the 15th centuries (Fig 2). These disks, which could also
have been used as lids, are handmade of very coarse clays, just like the paneras. They
were most likely placed directly over the embers in the hearths of Andalusi houses.
The lack of walls is probably because they could have been used to bake unleavened
flatbread. This ceramic form is identified by Sonia Gutiérrez Lloret as a ṭabaq.44
Another ceramic form used for baking bread, and found in the archaeological re-
cord, is the ṭannūr (Fig. 3).45 The tannūr is a cooking device consisting of a simple ce-
ramic cylinder, usually with the upper mouth wider than the lower one. The lower one
would be placed over hot embers (or with the hot embers inside, if the tannūr was a
fixed item) and the device would transmit the heat to the upper part, where a vessel or
bread buns would be placed. The tannūr is closely associated today to Islamic customs
in North Africa, the Middle East and Central Asia, but the first tannūr-oven types
(not portable) were already recovered in the Neolithic Levant.46 In Iberia, however,
there is no evidence of tannūr/s before the arrival of the Muslims, and in the Vega of
Granada in particular they are first recovered very early, at the latest in the change
between the 8th and 9th centuries.47
The third form, on which bread could be baked, is the anafre, the Spanish term for
the chafing dish (Fig. 3). The first time that this type of vessel is found in the Vega of
Granada is between the 10th and 11th centuries.48 The main difference with the tan-
nūr is that it does have a container for embers which therefore enhances its portability.
Portability is probably the main issue when considering the last two forms men-
tioned above. A ceramic tannūr is conceived to be portable (although it can also be
fixed to a floor). It is a device to be used in an open (or at least well ventilated) space
and it does not seem to occupy a central space in the household (like a hearth would
do in other cultures). The anafre has an enhanced portability, and it could be used for
heating food or for keeping it hot. In the Vega of Granada, it does not appear until
urban life reaches some degree of sophistication, which suggests that the main concern
behind its adoption is more related to the practicalities of household daily life than
to cuisine culture directly. Once again, this is not to deny a relation between the two;
it is only a suggestion to look at a more complex set of causes of which cuisine is but a
small part.
40

Finally, bread could also be baked in structurally permanent ovens ( furn ovens),
which in the countryside of Granada are found in the Late Islamic period (13th to 15th
centuries) in relationship with waqf 49 of mosques. They are small ovens which were
probably used in exchange for the payment of a toll that served for the maintenance
of the mosque.50
b) Closed and open cooking pots ratio: changes in cooking recipes

The 13th-century anonymous cuisine book shows correspondence between the forms
of cooking and the vessels used for it.51 The closed cooking pot (Latin olla, Arabic qidr)
is a vessel with a narrower mouth than its larger diameter, and it is suited to cooking
meats and legumes with an abundance of water, salt and spices. When the book talks
about frying however, it mentions two different terms to define the vessels desired for
it: the pan and the casserole. It sometimes specifies that these are ceramic vessels and
it seems that very often the two terms for vessel are used interchangeably. The terms
are the pan (miqlāt) and the casserole (ṭājīn); open forms. Sporadically, different terms
are used, such as tinjir – a closed cooking pot – and qaswīlā, a term with Latin origins
related to the Spanish cazuela and English casserole. Dishes made with open forms
are more elaborate than vessels made with closed shapes because the former admits a
wider variety of ingredients and fashions.
However, there are also recipes that require a combination of closed and open pots.
A calculation of the relative frequency of the terms used in the recipes of the book
gives the following results: closed forms are exclusively used in 232 recipes, 65.68% of
the total. Open forms are used in 68 recipes or 18.38%. Finally, there are 59 recipes that
require the combined use of closed and open forms which total 15.95% of all the recipes
in the book (Table 1).
This can be compared to the ratio between quantified open and closed forms in the
archaeological record (Fig. 4).
A historical perspective of this information is relevant to understanding cuisine
practices. In many areas of al-Andalus, closed cooking pots, handmade or wheelmade,
are the only cooking vessels recovered in the 8th and 9th centuries (Fig. 5). There is a
change in this trend from the 12th century onwards, when open forms become steadily
more abundant in the archaeological record. This change in trends of production has
been interpreted as a change in cuisine styles, from one based on simmered meals to
another where fried dishes and sauces are more frequent.52 This is probably related to
a change in the volume of cooking pots which increases from this century onwards.
Before the 12th century, cooking pots had a volume of two to three litres. After that,
their capacity was doubled. This is also related to changes in the service of food, as will
be noted in the section dedicated to tablewares.
41

forms recipes %
closed forms Qidr (pot) 232 62,70
Tinjir 6 1,62
Qidr and tinjir 3 0,81
Qidr and qadus 2 0,54
total (closed forms) 243 65,68
open forms Miqlat (pan) 42 11,35
Tajine 18 4,86
Miqlat and tajine 5 1,35
Qaswila 3 0,81
total (open forms) 68 18,38
mixed forms Qidr and miqlat 36 9,73
Qidr and tajine 15 4,05
Qidr, miqlat and tajine 6 1,62
Qidr and qaswila 1 0,27
Qidr, tajine and tinjir 1 0,27
total (mixed forms) 59 15,95
Total 370 100,00
table 1 – Proportion of uses of different cooking vessels in the recipes described in the Kitāb al-
Tabīkh (13th century) ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
c) The beginnings of sagging bases in al-Andalus

The production technique, which is most conspicuous within the new elements, is the
finishing of the bases of small to medium vessels (cooking pots, small jars, bowls and
juglets) in order to give them a sagging profile by scrapping or cutting.53 Although this
finishing does not require a complete change of the manufacturing techniques applied
(e.g., wheelmade modelling), it does need to be part of the design of the vessel. This is
because the whole process needs to be adapted so that the technique can be applied.54
The technique of sagging bases is not unknown in the pre-Islamic Mediterranean, but
it seems to be found mostly in the Levant. In fact, sagging bases, which were recovered
in Roman contexts in the Iberian Peninsula, always belong to imported vessels from
the eastern Mediterranean.55 It is safe to say that in the Vega of Granada, and in the
areas immediately surrounding it, sagging bases were not used in wheel-made vessels
before the Islamic period.
Some functional explanations have been advanced for the introduction of the sag-
ging bases. Esteban Fernández Navarro suggests that the convex shape of the base and
the reorientation of the clay particles that the scrapping process produced, enhanced
the heat transmission in pots, reduced the time for heating foods in cooking vessels
and added to the cooling effect in water containers.56 While this explanation should
not be discarded, one should also consider whether the difference in performance be-
tween convex and flat bases could be so important that it resulted in a widespread
usage of the first ones (particularly since the 10th century).
42

Paul Arthur thinks that sagging bases are associated to ways of life where flat sur-
faces, inadequate for convex bases, would be less abundant due to the predominant
architectural styles of the areas and periods in which they are documented.57 This type
of base could indeed not be used on flat surfaces, but they are better adapted to be used
directly within the embers or over the flame, thus helping to distribute heat. There are
several suggestions here which need to be discussed.
While in this particular case, Arthur argued that there is good reason to suggest
that architectural forms are not sophisticated, the link between simple architecture
(without flat surfaces) and sagging bases does not work for the conditions in the Vega
of Granada. While sagging bases appear here at some point during the 8th and 9th
centuries, they become the predominant shape of cooking pots, jars and other vessels
from the 10th century onwards. This lasted until the end of the Islamic period (15th
century) and beyond, when a full scale urban society with sophisticated architectural
styles had developed. In other words, sagging bases were also used when flat surfaces
were readily available.
The other suggestion, presented by Arthur, is that sagging bases are more suitable
to be placed directly within embers or over flames. This is supposedly because they
are more stable on irregular surfaces and better at redistributing heat. This is a per-
formative argument, just like Fernández Navarro’s above. Arguments of this type can
only be disproved if shown to be wrong, and this does not seem to be the case from
the archaeological record. However, it would be a mistake to consider that all these
changes were motivated exclusively for the performative characteristics of the vessels.
This would mean imposing current western standards of time-energy optimisation
onto societies where these concerns were not necessarily applicable.58
While the introduction of sagging bases in al-Andalus is relevant and can poten-
tially be explained as an enhancement of the performance of the pots, we would like
to suggest here that the innovation needs to be considered in the context of changes
occurring in all areas of daily life as a consequence of the coexistence of groups from
very different cultural backgrounds. In other words, sagging bases were not adopted
specifically, but as part of a set of cultural practices that included innovative techno-
logical behaviours and products,59 in the circumstances generated by the processes of
Islamisation in al-Andalus.60
d) Glazing in cooking wares

Another change to consider is the beginning of the use of lead glaze in cooking wares.
Glazing in cooking pots in al-Andalus seems to start in a very modest way in urban
products between the 11th and 12th centuries. That is the case, at least, in Granada. In-
itially, it would be a finish applied only to the interior, with some spots in the exterior,
43

and was not necessarily applied to all of the vessels. This might be due to differences in
the procedures of production within different workshops, but the few studies on this
topic have not shed light on this question.61
On the other hand, since the start of the use of lead glaze in cooking utensils, there
is a clear trend in expanding this over the rest of the pot and applying it more to vari-
ous vessels. By the 13th century, the glaze is used in almost every cooking pot, and one
can frequently observe that between one third and one half of their external surface
was covered with glaze. After the Islamic period, the glaze used in the cooking pots
became darker and was applied all over the body, both on the interior and exterior.
The introduction of glaze in cooking wares is usually explained again with a per-
formative argument. The water-proofing qualities of the glaze would prevent the ab-
sorption of substances by the porous ceramic body and thus would not only make the
pot easier to clean, but would also increase its useful lifespan and avoid food being
contaminated.62 Whatever the opinion on these arguments, it is interesting to note
that the beginning of the use of lead glaze in cooking pots only shortly precedes the
changes in ratio between closed and open cooking pots. This suggests that glaze usage
could be associated with a more frequent practice of frying and, thus, increased use of
oil in cuisine. This being said, the fact that it is recovered (for the first time) in an ur-
ban environment also suggests that it could have been developed through competition
between different ceramic workshops for urban consumers.
ta bl ewa r es: t h e gl a z e d ata i for
a) Ataifores and tablewares

The cultural changes at the beginning of the Islamic period in Iberia can also be no-
ticed in the vessels for serving food. The most important element of these changes is
the emergence of the ataifor (Fig. 6). The ataifor, a Spanish word originating from an
Arabic term, is the name used since the pioneering works of Guillermo Rosselló Bor-
doy to identify open vessels, always glazed and usually decorated, for the presentation
of food.63 The name is used to identify a range of forms that include bowls and dishes
of varying sizes and shapes. Although it is easy to link the ataifor to service vessels
found in Roman and post-Roman times, the truth is that in al-Andalus there is a gap
between the disappearance of the open vessels from the Antique tradition (around the
6th or 7th centuries) and the documentation of the first ataifores in the very late 9th
century. This is certainly a different situation to the one observed, for example, in the
Levant, where service vessels of Roman tradition are recovered well into the Islamic
period,64 and where there is a well-established connection between them and the first
glazed bowls.65
44

However, this gap in al-Andalus needs to be looked at with a certain scepticism.

There is certainly a lack of parallels between tablewares of Antique tradition and the
ataifores, but that does not mean that there were no vessels used for the same purpose.
In the Vega of Granada, it is possible to find hand-made and wheel-made open vessels,
which could have been equally used for table service or for cooking (see the panera
above); of course, they could also have been used for both at the same time. There is
no doubt that metal and wood vessels were used during this time as well. Metal vessels
are well known all over the Islamic world and, particularly in al-Andalus, we have
written and material evidence of the production and use of wooden ones.66 Finally,
many cooking pots of the 9th (and probably 8th) century have spouts, and therefore
another vessel was required to receive the contents when they were poured from these
cooking pots. This could be the panera or another type of wide-mouthed jar that is
found in al-Andalus, especially in the earlier centuries of the Islamic period. It has
been suggested that this last vessel was used as a drinking vessel,67 although its wide
mouth allows hands to enter the inside of the pot, which would make it useful for
serving solid foods as well.
From this information, we can infer that there was a tableware service in the Vega
of Granada before the 10th century. It must have been dramatically altered, however,
with the introduction of the ataifor in the technological range of utensils within that
period of time. The circumstances of its introduction clearly allow us to link the atai-
for to urban and/or to palatial environments. It surely represented, in al-Andalus, the
mode of consumption of urban populations and the links of some social groups with
the ruling elite in certain cases (see below, in the discussion about glazes). There is
certainly a strong connection here with cuisine culture but this needs to be explained
further in more detail.
It is common to associate the arrival of the ataifor with the custom of eating from
a common, large vessel displayed in the centre of the room. However, it has to be said
that the first recovered ataifores of the 9th and 12th centuries have a diameter of be-
tween only 36 and 24 cm and thus are not fitted for that purpose (Fig. 6). This does
not exclude the possibility that larger vessels could have been made in other materials
such as wood or metal.
Furthermore, it is certainly a technical challenge to produce a ceramic vessel with
larger dimensions (like the ones used today for this function). Nevertheless, larger
ceramic ataifores are recovered in al-Andalus from the 13th century onwards, reaching
dimensions more appropriate for communal meals. This is probably related to the
increased volume of cooking pots from the 12th century onwards, as afore mentioned.
These changes in volume suggest that, prior to the 12th century, the custom of com-
munal meals had not yet been developed or was arranged in a very different way.
45

b) Glazing in tablewares
Glazing was developed in the Islamic world from a very early period in continuation
of former traditions. Particularly in al-Andalus and in the Vega of Granada, the first
glazes are not found till the 9th century.68 These first glazes are usually small closed
vessels, such as juglets or very small jars, and the colours of the glaze go from deep
emerald green to dark brown. These glazed vessels are clearly not for use in the kitchen
and it is quite possible that they do not have any connection with food preparation or
presentation. The glaze seems to have been originally applied in al-Andalus on small
vessels creating a shiny and water-proof finish, so it is likely that these containers were
designed for valuable liquids like oil or perfumes.
However, glaze would soon be related to food service. It is an essential feature
of the ataifores which are found in the Vega of Granada for the first time in the late
9th or early 10th century (Fig. 6). Some of the first ataifores that are recovered in this
region are decorated in the verde y manganeso technique,69 an overglaze-painted style
of decorated ataifores, and juglets in which different tonalities of green, brown, purple
and black are used.70 This ware is associated with the rising elite of the Cordovan Cali-
phate in 929,71 yet it is clear that it was circulating a few decades earlier than that date,
before the end of the 9th century. In that time, they were very exclusive as their use is
rare and was only noted in places with an obvious social significance.
By the late 10th century honey- to yellow-glazed ataifores became widely available
for the urban population of Ilbīra. By the 11th century and later, their use became
usual in rural settings as well and new colours of glazes, decorative styles and shapes
were developed (Fig. 7). This custom would last beyond the Islamic period in Iberia.
discussion
The various elements of transition in al-Andalus described above can be summarised

as follows.
Firstly, for the making of bread, we have seen a transition from the panera to the
use of tabaq/s, tannūr/s and anafres. The main differences are that the panera needs to
be used in an oven or in between ashes, whereas the tabaq/s, tannūr and anafre require
only embers. This does not mean that there were no bread ovens in al-Andalus, as they
are clearly documented in the later Islamic period and in the analysed 13th-century
cuisine book (Kitāb al-Tabīkh). This manuscript makes clear that clay vessels were still
used in the 13th century in the same way as the panera (called tajīn in the text, which
were not recovered archaeologically in al-Andalus). The main difference between the
5th-8th centuries (when the panera is found) and the later centuries, is that there is a
wider variety of sources and ways in which bread could have been made. In general,
46

this could be related to socioeconomic changes in al-Andalus brought in by the Isla-

misation of the society and the urbanisation of the landscape.
Secondly, there is a change in the proportion of closed and open vessel shapes for
cooking during the Islamic period. The main change occurs around the 12th and 13th
centuries. This is also the period in which an increase in the volume of cooking pots
and serving vessels is noticeable. This suggests an important transformation in cuisine
culture, as explained below.
Thirdly, another change observed in cooking pots is the transition between flat
and sagging bases, recovered from between the 8th and 10th centuries. This is a purely
technological change that, in principle, could have little impact in cuisine modes, but
which is indicative of wider sociocultural changes related to the Islamisation of the
society (and in particular to the arrival of new populations).
Fourthly, glazed cooking pots start appearing in the 11th century. As a technolog-
ical change, it seems to have been prompted by the growing scale of urbanisation and,
therefore, of artisanal concentration and competition in towns. It may also be related
to a particular change in cuisine practices, like an increased use of frying oil. Let us not
forget that the start of the use of glaze precedes a period of large cuisine changes in the
12th and 13th centuries. It is possible that some particular aspects of cuisine practices
changed earlier.
Fifthly, tablewares show an interesting development, particularly with the introduc-
tion of the ataifor in the 10th century. Before then, there is little evidence of ceramic
vessels being used for the service of food. The 10th century sees an increase in urbani-
sation which is associated to a mode of consumption, in which the ataifor has a central
role. This role is demonstrated by the decoration of the vessel with glaze, which was used
in al-Andalus as an element of social distinction probably since its introduction from
the East. In the 13th century, the capacity of the ataifor increases, akin to the cooking
pots. This implies that the changes in recipes correspond to changes in food service and,
therefore, highlighting a major transformation of cuisine modes caused by influences
from North Africa during the Almoravid and Almohad periods (11th to 13th centuries).
It is worth offering a chronological perspective of the changes discussed above.
Between the 5th and the 8th centuries the ceramic production and consumption of
Iberia is in paralleled circumstances to those documented by Paul Arthur for the Med-
iterranean. However, a substantial change occurred when Iberia became al-Andalus
and entered the Islamic world. Between the 8th and 12th centuries, ceramic shapes
(like the tannūr, anafre, ataifor) and production techniques (glaze, sagging bases) were
introduced to al-Andalus from other parts of the Islamic world, mainly due to popu-
lation movements from North Africa and the Middle East. These changes were not
only technical, but also cultural, and can be embedded in the more general concepts
47

of Islamisation and urbanisation. There is no doubt that there is a changing cuisine

fashion included in this wide cultural transformation, but it is not currently possible to
isolate it. However, later changes (dated to between the 11th and the 13th centuries) can
be better related to a change of cuisine modes. These include the introduction of recipes
(altered proportion of open and closed cooking vessels) and communal sharing of meals
(increased volume of cooking and serving vessels). In al-Andalus, these elements can be
directly related to the influences from North Africa through the political intervention
of the Almoravid and Almohad dynasties between the 11th and 13th centuries.
conclusion
The culture of cuisine is at the heart of many elements considered vital for social and
archaeological analysis of past communities. However, it is precisely for this reason
that it is also so difficult to accurately grasp. Many different trends of evidence must
be gathered in order to assess how cuisine practices are formed and developed and,
more importantly, the place that they occupy in society needs to be clarified. In this
paper, we have suggested a way to start doing this by embedding the concept of cuisine
culture within that of a sociotechnical systems. After that, we have analysed the most
important themes of change in our case study, the early Islamic society of the Vega of
Granada, and have analysed some changes noted in the archaeological ceramic record.
This analysis has considered changes in themselves and in conjunction with others as
it has become apparent that they are all interlinked in ways that spread out beyond the
limits of cuisine practices, but are directly or indirectly connected to it.
With this contribution, we hope to have opened up a platform for discussion on
the changes that impacted cuisine culture and are associated to Islamisation. It is in-
teresting to see the differences in continuity and discontinuity since the beginning of
the Islamic period in the Vega of Granada. This is related to very specific causes in this
area; these are mainly the arrival of new contingents of people and the coexistence
of people of different cultural backgrounds. The connections with the extensive Dār
al-Islām opened another channel for more changes and influence. The development
of society in al-Andalus, with its progression towards an urban-based organisation of
the territory, altered significantly the initial landscape by inducing a more unified life-
style. This was very different from the previous Mediterranean model of Roman and
post-Roman times. This work is very far from the establishment of a general model of
transition due to or linked to Islamisation, but we believe that the themes of conti-
nuity and innovation, connection to large-scale patterns in the Islamic world and de-
velopment of an urban-based model of society, are worth considering when studying
Islamic societies in the Mediterranean region.
48

a ppe n di x i
site chronology closed form open form
El Castillejo de Nívar (Granada) c. 500-700 65% 35%
Marinet and Mollet (Castellón) c. 700-900 99% 1%
Cordoba (Shaqūnda quarter) c. 750-818 96% 4%
Manzanil (Loja, Granada) c. 800-900 99% 1%
Marroquíes Bajos (Phase i) (Jaén) c. 850-900 97% 3%
Pechina (Almería) c. 850-900 97% 3%
Madina Ilbīra (Phase ii) (Granada) c. 850-925 98% 2%
Marroquíes Bajos (Phase ii) (Jaén) c. 875-925 83% 17%
Madina Ilbīra (Phase iii) (Granada) c. 900-1000 96% 4%
El Castillejo de Nívar (Granada) c. 1000-1150 98% 2%
Santa Fe de Oliva (Valencia) c. 1100-1200 61% 39%
El Castillejo de Los Guájares (Granada) c. 1200-1400 35% 65%
table 2 – Ratio of closed and open cooking forms in a number of archaeological sites in South al-An-
dalus, in percentages. Different techniques of percentage calculation have been used in different sites.
Total numbers of sherds and forms were not always available. Sources of data: for Nívar (all phases):
Jiménez Puertas and Carvajal López in press; for Marinet and Mollet: Bazzana 1992, 155; for Cordoba:
Casal et al. 2005, 235; for Manzanil: Jiménez Puertas’ own work; for Marroquíes Bajos Phase I: Pérez
Alvarado 2003, 126; for Marroquíes Bajos Phase ii: Pérez Alvarado 2003, 129; for Pechina: Castillo
Galdeano and Martínez Madrid 1993, 75; for Madina Ilbīra Phase ii: Malpica Cuello et al. 2006; for
Madina Ilbīra Phase iii: Jiménez Puertas 2012; for Santa Fe de Oliva: Bazzana 1992, 149; for El Cas-
tillejo de Los Guájares: García Porras 2001, 452.
49

a ppe n di x i i
Site Chronology Percentage Percentage of Percentage of

of open glazed open glazed open
tablewares tablewares tablewares
(of total (of open (of total
assemblage) tablewares) assemblage)
El Castillejo de Nívar (Granada) c. 500-700 0.30% 0% 0%
Marinet and Mollet (Castellón) c. 700-900 0.92% 0% 0%
Cordoba (Shaqūnda quarter) c. 750-818 10.00% 0% 0%
Manzanil (Loja, Granada) c. 800-900 4.07% 100% 4.07%
Marroquíes Bajos (Phase i) (Jaén) c. 850-900 2.38% nd nd
Pechina (Almería) c. 850-900 7.40% 93% 6.88%
Madina Ilbīra (Phase ii) (Granada) c. 850-925 1.28% 25% 0.32%
Marroquíes Bajos (Phase ii) (Jaén) c. 875-925 18.18% nd nd
Madina Ilbīra (Phase iii) (Granada) c. 900-1000 11.27% 100% 11.27%
El Castillejo de Nívar (Granada) c. 1000-1150 6.68% 100% 6.68%
Santa Fe de Oliva (Valencia) c. 1100-1200 25.84% nd nd
El Castillejo de Los Guájares (Granada) c. 1200-1400 11.37% nd nd
table 3 – Relevant percentages of open tablewares and of glazed open tablewares in different archae-
ological sites of southern al-Andalus. Different techniques of percentage calculation have been used in
different sites. Total numbers of sherds and forms were not always available. Sources of data: for Nívar
(all phases): Jiménez Puertas and Carvajal López in press; for Marinet and Mollet: Bazzana 1992, 155;
for Cordoba: Casal et al. 2005, 235; for Manzanil: Jiménez Puertas’ own work; for Marroquíes Bajos
Phase I: Pérez Alvarado 2003, 126; for Marroquíes Bajos Phase ii: Pérez Alvarado 2003, 129; for Pe-
china: Castillo Galdeano and Martínez Madrid 1993, 75 and 86; for Madina Ilbīra Phase ii: Malpica
Cuello et al. 2006; for Madina Ilbīra Phase iii: Jiménez Puertas 2012; for Santa Fe de Oliva: Bazzana
1992, 149; for El Castillejo de Los Guájares: García Porras 2001: 452. nd: no data were available.
50

not es
1 Arthur 2007; Vroom 2007a; idem 2007b 22 An excellent case study is García García in
just to mention some recent examples. press.
2 E.g., García Sánchez 1996. 23 Watson 1971; idem 1974; idem 1981.
3 E.g., Florent and Deru 2012. 24 Decker 2011.
4 Pfaffenberger 1992. 25 Cf Kitāb al-Tabīkh 2012; Bolens 1991.
5 Cf. the use of this terminology in Gosselain 26 Alonso et al. 2014.
2010 in relation to ceramic production, and 27 Wickham 2005.
in Carvajal López and Jiménez Puertas 2011 28 Arthur 2007.
with respect to irrigation techniques. 29 Cf. Carvajal López et al. 2015 for a case study
6 Pfaffenberger 1992. of the Vega of Granada.
7 Cf. Insoll 2004 for this point about 30 Carvajal López and Day 2013; idem 2015.
religions; and Bulliet 1979, 33-42; Carvajal 31 E.g., Castillo Armenteros 1998; Gómez
López 2013a; idem 2013b for reflections Becerra 2000; Gutiérrez Lloret 1996;
about Islamisation itself. Jiménez Puertas 2002; Martin Civantos
8 Most notable perhaps Hodges 1989; idem 2007.
2012; Hodges and Whitehouse 1983; 32 Carvajal and Day 2013.
Wickham 2005. 33 Carvajal López 2005; idem 2008a; idem
9 Cf. Banaji 2007; Shawn 2008. 2008b; idem 2009; idem 2012; Carvajal
10 Originally from 1937. It is fair to remember López and Day 2013; idem 2015; Carvajal
the important role of the publication of López and Jiménez Puertas 2011; Jiménez
Hodges and Whitehouse 1983 in stirring up Puertas 2002; idem 2008; idem 2012;
that debate. Jiménez Puertas and Carvajal López 2008;
11 Chalmeta Gendrón 1994. idem in press; Malpica et al. 2006; idem
12 See examples in Carvajal López 2013a. 2010.
13 Guichard 1996, 187-97. 34 Carvajal López 2009.
14 Watson 1974; idem 1981; idem 1983. 35 Rosselló Bordoy 1991.
15 See accurate criticism in Decker 2011; Johns 36 Gutiérrez Lloret 1990-91
1984; Rowley-Conwy 1989; Samuel 2001. 37 Etymologiae 2009.
16 E.g., Bolens 1981. 38 Kitāb al-Tabīkh 2012.
17 E.g., Jiménez Puertas 2007; Kirchner 2009; 39 Etymologiae 2009, xx, ii, 15.
Martin Civantos 2011. 40 Cf. the ataifor below.
18 Cf. Davis 2008. 41 Ramalló Asensio el al. 1996.
19 A fatwa is a legal decree or order that creates 42 Kitāb al-Tabīkh 2012, 19-20; cf. also Bolens
a precedent under Islamic law. 1991, 74.
20 Daga Portillo 1990, 195-96. 43 The word ṭājīn is a generic word that refers
21 García Gomez 1957, 287-88. to an open vessel used for cooking and
51

baking. It is generally not linked to any 57 Arthur 2007, 179.

particular ceramic form in al-Andalus, 58 Cf. Lemonnier 1993.
although other authors have used it in the 59 Cf. Carvajal López and Day 2013; Kirchner
context of North Africa. Although there is 2008.
no evidence for this, perhaps the semantic 60 Cf. Carvajal López 2013a; idem 2013b.
field of the word could include the tabaq. 61 E.g., Carvajal and Day 2013; idem 2015.
44 Gutiérrez Lloret 1990-1, 171-72. 62 The latter is not true, as the lead of the glaze
45 Gutiérrez Lloret 1990-1, 163-69. would be highly toxic. This is a traditional
46 Haaland 2007. argument to explain the function of glaze.
47 Carvajal López 2008a, 242-243. The first time the authors have seen this
48 Carvajal López 2008a, 229. mentioned is in Rosselló Bordoy 1978,
49 A waqf is a religious endowment made for although it is possible that it has a longer
the maintenance of its beneficiary. history.
50 Villanueva Rico 1961. 63 Rosselló Bordoy 1978; idem 1991.
51 Kitāb al-Tabīkh 2012. 64 E.g., Magness 1993.
52 Cf. the recipes found in Kitāb al-Tabīkh 65 Watson 2014.
2012. 66 Navarro Palazón and Robles Fernández
53 Cf. Carvajal López 2008a; idem 2009; 1996, lxvi-lxviii, nos. 83-91; Nuzhat 1974,
Carvajal López and Day 2013; Fernández 195-6.
Navarro 2008. 67 Rosselló Bordoy 1991.
54 Cf. Balfet 1973; Van der Leeuw 1976; idem 68 Carvajal López 2008a; idem 2009 for the
1993. Vega; Salinas Pleguezuelo and Zozaya 2015
55 This opinion is admittedly in need of solid for al-Andalus.
verification; many archaeologists in Iberia 69 Cano Piedra 1990; Carvajal López 2008a;
have worked exclusively on the shapes, idem 2009; Carvajal López et al. in
without paying attention to the finishing of preparation; Gómez Moreno 1986.
bases, and therefore we do not have robust 70 Molera et al. 2001; Molera et al. in
data. preparation.
56 Fernández Navarro 2008, 172 71 Barceló 1993.
52

bi bl iogr a ph y
Alonso, N., F. Antolín and H. Kirchner 2014. Novelties and legacies in crops of the
Islamic Period in the Northeast Iberian Peninsula: The archaeobotanical evidence
in Madîna Balagî, Madîna Lârida, and Madîna Turṭûša, Quaternary International
346, 149-61.
Arthur, P. 2007. Form, function and technology in pottery production from late An-
tiquity to the early Middle Ages, in: L. Lavan, E. Zanini and A. Sarantis (eds.),
Technology in Transition AD 300-650, Late Antique Archaeology vol. 4, Leiden,
159-86.
Balfet, H. 1973. A propos du tour de potier: l’outil et le gest technique, L’Homme, hier
et aujurd’ hui; Paris, 109-22.
Barceló, M. 1993. Al-Mulk, el verde y blanco: La vajilla califal omeya de Madīnat al-
Zahrã, in: A. Malpica Cuello (ed.), La ceramica altomedieval en el Sur de al-Anda-
lus, Granada, 291-300.
Banaji, H. 2007. Islam, the Mediterranean and the rise of capitalism, Historical Ma-
terialism 15, 47-74.
Bazzana, A. 1992. Maisons d’al-Andalus. Habitat médiéval et structures du peuplement
dans l’Espagne orientale, Madrid.
Bolens, L. 1981. Agronomes andalous du Moyen-Age, Genève.
Bolens, L. 1991. La cocina andaluza, un arte de vivir: siglos xi-xiii, Madrid.
Bulliet, R. 1979. Conversion to Islam in the Medieval Period: An essay in Quantitative
History, Harvard.
Cano Piedra, C. 1990. Estudio sistemático de la cerámica de Madīnat Ilbīra (Grana-
da), Cuadernos de la Alhambra 26, 25-69.
Carvajal López, J.C. 2005. La cerámica islámica del Sombrerete (Madīnat Ilbīra, Gra-
nada). Primera parte, Arqueología y Territorio Medieval 12.1, 133-73.
Carvajal López, J.C. 2008a. La cerámica de Madīnat Ilbīra y el poblamiento altomedi-
eval de la Vega de Granada (siglos viii-xi), Granada.
Carvajal López, J.C. 2008b. Nuevas aportaciones sobre la cerámica del Sombrerete,
Madīnat Ilbīra, Granada, in: A. Malpica Cuello and J.C. Carvajal López (eds.),
Estudios sobre cerámica tardorromana y altomedieval, Granada, 405-65.
Carvajal López, J.C. 2009. Pottery production and Islam in south-east Spain: A social
model, Antiquity 83, 388-98.
Carvajal López, J.C. 2012. Cooking pots and large containers in the Early Medie-
val Vega of Granada (South East Spain): On the practices of pottery production
and the practices that require production of pottery, Old Potter’s Almanach 17.2,
7-12.
53

Carvajal López, J.C. 2013a. Islamización y arqueología. Reflexiones en torno a un con-

cepto controvertido y necesario desde el punto de vista arqueológico, in: F. Sabaté
and J. Brufal (eds.), Arqueologia Medieval. Recerca avançaza en arqueologia medie-
val V, Agira Vol v, Lleida, 127-56.
Carvajal López, J.C. 2013b. Islamicization or islamicizations? Expansion of Islam and
social practice in the Vega of Granada (south-east Spain), World Archaeology 45.1,
56-70.
Carvajal López, J.C. and P.M. Day 2013. Cooking pots and islamicization in the Early
Medieval Vega of Granada (Al-Andalus, sixth to twelfth centuries), Oxford Jour-
nal of Archaeology 32.4, 433-51.
Carvajal López, J.C. and Day, P.M. 2015a. The production and distribution of cooking
pots in two towns of South East Spain in the 6th–11th centuries, Journal of Archae-
ological Science. Reports 2, 282-90.
Carvajal López, J.C., A. Hein, M.D. Glascock and P.M. Day forthcoming. Combined
petrographic and chemical analysis of water containers and glazed wares in the
Early Medieval Vega of Granada (south east Spain, 6th to 12th centuries ce), Jour-
nal of Archaeological Science. Reports.
Carvajal López, J.C. and M. Jiménez Puertas 2011. Studies of the Early Medieval pot-
tery of al-Andalus, Early Medieval Europe 19.4, 411-35.
Carvajal López; J.C., J.M. Román Punzón; M. Jiménez Puertas and J. Martínez
Jiménez 2015. When the East came to the West: The seventh century in the Vega
of Granada (South East Spain): Visigoths, Byzantines and Muslims, in: A. Gnasso,
E. Intagliata, T.J. MacMaster and B.N. Morris (eds.), The Long Seventh Century.
Continuity and Discontinuity in an Age of Transition, Oxford, 135-62.
Casal, M.T., E. Castro, E. Salinas and R. López 2005. Aproximación al estudio de la
cerámica emiral del arrabal de Šaqūnda (Qurṭūba, Córdoba), Arqueología y Terri-
torio Medieval 12.2, 189-235.
Castillo Armenteros, J.A. 1998. La Campiña de Jaén en época emiral (S. viii-x), Jaén.
Chalmeta Gendron, P. 1994. Invasión e Islamización. La sumisión de Hispania y la
formación de al-Andalus, Madrid.
Daga Portillo, R. 1990. Organización jurídica y social en la España musulmana.
Traducción y estudio de Al-Aḥkām Al-Kubrā de Ibn Sahl (s.xi), unpublished
doctoral thesis, University of Granada. Available in http://digibug.ugr.es/han-
dle/10481/13955 (date last checked 7/07/2016).
Davis, S.M.J. 2008. Zooarchaeological evidence for Moslem and Christian improve-
ments of sheep and cattle in Portugal, Journal of Archaeological Science 35, 991-1010.
Decker, M. 2011. Plants and progress: Rethinking the Islamic agricultural revolution,
Journal of World History 20.2, 187-206.
54

Fernández Navarro, E. 2008. Tradición tecnológica de la cerámica de cocina almo-

hade-nazarí en la provincia de Granada, Granada.
Florent, G. and X. Deru 2012. La céramique à Reims de César à Clovis. Analyse fonc-
tionnelle, in: C. Batigne-Vallet (ed.) Les céramiques communes dans leur contexte
régional: faciès de consommation et modes d’approvisionnement, Lyon, 259-93.
García-García, M. forthcoming. Some remarks on the provision of animal products
to urban centres in medieval Islamic Iberia: The cases of Madinat Ilbirah (Gra-
nada) and Cercadilla (Cordova), Quaternary International (2016), http://dx.doi.
org/10.1016/j.quaint.2016.06.021.
García Gómez, E. 1957. Unas «Ordenanzas del zoco» del siglo ix, Al-Andalus 22.2,
253-316.
García Porras, A. 2001. La cerámica del poblado fortificado medieval de ‘El Castillejo’
(Los Guájares, Granada), Granada.
García Sánchez, E. 1996. La alimentación popular urbana en al-Andalus, Arqueologia
medieval 4, 219-36.
Gómez Becerra, A. 1998. El poblamiento altomedieval en la Costa de Granada, Gra-
nada.
Gómez Moreno, M. 19862 Medina Elvira, Granada (2nd ed.; 1st ed. Granada 1888).
Gosselain, O. 2010. Exploring the dynamics of African pottery cultures, in: R. Barn-
don, A. Engevik and I. Øye (eds.), The Archaeology of Regional Technologies. Case
Studies from the Palaeolithic to the Age of the Vikings, New York, 193-224.
Guichard, P. 1996. Al-Andalus: estructura antropológica de una sociedad islámica en
Occidente, Granada (2nd ed.; 1st ed. Barcelona 1976).
Gutiérrez Lloret, S. 1990-1991. Panes, hogazas y fogones portátiles. Dos formas cerámi-
cas dedicadas a la cocción del pan en al-Andalus: el hornillo (tannur) y el plato
(tabaq), Lvcentvm ix-x, 161-75.
Gutiérrez Lloret, S. 1996. La cora de Tudmīr de la Antigüedad Tardía al mundo islámi-
co. Poblamiento y cultura material, Madrid.
Hodges, R. 1989. Dark Age Economics. The Origins of Towns and Trade AD 600-1000;
London (2nd ed. updated; 1st ed. London 1982)
Hodges, R. 2012, Dark Age Economics. A New Audit, London.
Hodges, R. and D. Whitehouse 1983. Mohammed, Charlemagne and the Origins of
Europe: Archaeology and the Pirenne Thesis, London.
Insoll, T. 2004. Archaeology, Ritual, Religion, London.
Etymologiae 2009. S. Isidore of Seville Etimologías, trans. by J. Oroz Reta and M. A.
Marcos Casquero, Madrid.
Jiménez Puertas, M. 2000. El poblamiento del territorio de Loja en la Edad Media,
Granada.
55

Jiménez Puertas, M. 2007. Los regadíos tradicionales del territorio de Loja. Historia de
unos paisajes agrarios de origen medieval, Granada.
Jiménez Puertas, M. 2008. Cerámica tardoantigua y emiral de la Vega de Granada. El
Cerro del Molino del Tercio (Salar), in: A. Malpica Cuello and J.C. Carvajal López
(eds.), Estudios de cerámica tardorromana y altomedieval, Granada, 163-219.
Jiménez Puertas, M. 2012. El análisis cuantitativo de la cerámica medieval y los pro-
cesos de formación del registro arqueológico: estudio de un caso procedente del
yacimiento de Madinat Ilbira, Debates de Arqueología Medieval 2, 293-329.
Jiménez Puertas, M. and J.C. Carvajal López 2008. La cerámica de Madinat Ilbi-
ra (Pago de los Tejoletes, 2006), in www.arqueologiamedieval.com. Available in
http://www.arqueologiamedieval.com/articulos/100/ (last checked 8/07/2016).
Jiménez Puertas, M. and J.C. Carvajal López 2011. Opciones sociotécnicas de regadío
y secano: El caso de la Vega de Granada, in: F. Sabaté (ed.), Arqueologia Medieval:
Els espais del secà iv, Agira Vol. iii, Lleida, 51-85.
Jiménez Puertas, M. and J.C. Carvajal López forthcoming. La cerámica altomedie-
val de El Castillejo de Nívar (siglos vi-xii), in: A. Malpica and A. García Porras
(eds): Cerámica medieval e historia económica-social: problemas de método y casos
de estudio.
Johns, J. 1984. A green revolution? Agricultural innovation in the Early Islamic
world: The diffusion of crops and farming techniques, 700-1100 by Andrew M.
Watson [review], Journal of African History 25.3, 343-44.
Kirchner, H. 2008. Torneta y torno: Formas de producción, distribución y uso de
la cerámica andalusí: El caso de Yābīsa, in: A. Malpica Cuello and J.C. Carvajal
López (eds.), Estudios de Cerámica Tardorromana y Altomedieval, Granada, 221-45.
Kirchner, H. 2009. Original design, tribal management and modifications in me-
dieval hydraulic systems in the Balearic Islands (Spain), World Archaeology 41.1,
151-68.
Kitāb al-Tabīkh 2012. Kitāb al-ṭabīkh fī-l-Magrib wa-l-Andalus fī-‘A ṣr al-Mu-
waḥḥidīn, li-Mu‘allif Majhūl, trans. by Charles Perry, ed. by Candida Martinelli;
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. http://italophiles.com/andalu-
sian_cookbook.pdf (date last checked 8/07/2016).
Leeuw, S. van der 1976. Studies in the Technology of Ancient Pottery, Amsterdam.
Leeuw, S. van der 1993. Giving the potter a choice: Conceptual aspects of pottery tech-
niques, in: P. Lemmonier (ed.), Technological Choices: Transformation in Material
Cultures since the Neolithic, London, 238-88.
Lemmonier, P. 1993. Introduction, in: P. Lemmonier. (ed.), Technological Choices.
Transformation in Material Cultures since the Neolithic, London, 1-35.
Magness, J. 1993. Jerusalem Ceramic Chronology. Circa 200-800 ce, Sheffield.
56

Malpica, A., M. Jiménez Puertas and J.C. Carvajal López 2006. La cerámica de la
Alcazaba de Madinat Ilbira (Cerro del Sombrerete, Atarfe). Informe del estudio
de la cerámica de la campaña de 2005. Available in: http://digibug.ugr.es/han-
dle/10481/20665 (date last checked 20/07/2016).
Malpica, A., M. Jiménez Puertas and J.C. Carvajal López 2010. Estudio de la cerámica
de la Alcazaba de Madinat Ilbira (Cerro del Sombrerete, Atarfe), Anuario Arque-
ológico de Andalucía 2006 (Granada), Seville, 1838-50.
Martín Civantos, J.M. 2007. Poblamiento y territorio medieval en el Zenete (Granada),
Granada.
Martín Civantos, J.M. 2011. Working in landscape archaeology: The social and ter-
ritorial significance of the agricultural revolution in al-Andalus, Early Medieval
Europe 19.4, 385-410.
Molera, J., M. Vendrell-Saz, J. Pérez-Arántegui 2001. Chemical and textural charac-
terization of tin glazes in Islamic ceramics from Eastern Spain, Journal of Archae-
ological Science 28, 331-40.
Molera, J., J.C. Carvajal López, G. Molina and T. Pradell forthcoming, Glazes, color-
ants and decorations in early Islamic glazed ceramics from la Vega de Granada (9th
to 12th centuries AD), Journal of Archaeological Science. Reports.
Navarro Palazón, J. and A. Robles Fernández 1995. Liétor. Formas de vida rurales en
Šarq al-Andalus a través de una ocultación de los siglos x-xi, Murcia.
Nuzhat 1974. Al-Idrīsī. Nuzhat al-Mushtāq. Geografía de España, trans. by E. Saavedra,
Colección de Textos Medievales 37, Valencia.
Pfaffenberger, B. 1992. The social anthropology of technology, Annual Review of
Anthropology 21, 491-516.
Pirenne, H. 19972. Mahoma y Carlomagno, Madrid (transl. ed., 1st ed. Brussels 1937)
Ramallo Asensio, S.F., E. Ruiz Valderas and M.C. Berrocal Caparrós 1996. Contextos
cerámicos de los siglos v-vii en Cartagena, Archivo Español de Arqueología 69, 135-190.
Rosselló Bordoy, G. 1978. Ensayo sistemático de la cerámica islámica de Mallorca, Pal-
ma de Mallorca.
Rosselló Bordoy, G. 1991. El nombre de las cosas en al-Andalus. Una propuesta de ter-
minología cerámica, Palma de Mallorca.
Rowley-Conwy, P. 1989. Nubia AD 0-550 and the ‘Islamic’ agricultural revolution:
Preliminary botanical evidence from Qasr Ibrim, Egyptian Nubia, Archéologie du
Nil Moyen 3, 131-38.
Salinas Pleguezuelo, E. and J. Zozaya 2015. Pechina: El antecedente de las cerámicas
vidriadas islámicas en al-Andalus, in: M. J. Gonçalves and S. Gómez-Martínez
(eds.), Actas do x Congresso Internacional ‘A Cerâmica Medieval No Mediterrâneo’.
Silves, 22 a 27 outubro 2012, Silves, 573-76.
57

Samuel, D. 2001. Archaeobotanical evidence and analysis, in S. Berthier (ed.), Peuple-

ment rural et aménagements hydroagricoles dans la Moyenne Vallée de l’Euphrate
fin viiéme-xixéme siècle. Région de Deir ez Zōr – Abu Kemāl (Syrie), Damascus,
347-481.
Shaw, B.D. 2008. After Rome. Transformations of the Early Mediterranean world,
New Left Review 51 (May-June), 89-114.
Villanueva Rico, M.C. 1961. Habices de la mezquitas de la ciudad de Granada y sus
alquerías, Madrid.
Vroom, J. 2007a. The archaeology of late antique dining habits in the Eastern Mediter-
ranean: A preliminary study of the evidence, in: L. Lavan, S. Swift and T. Putzeys
(eds.), Objects in Context, Objects in Use. Material Spatiality in Late Antiquity, Late
Antique Archaeology 5, Leiden & Boston, 313-61.
Vroom, J. 2007b. The changing dining habits at Christ’s table, in: L. Brubaker and K.
Linardou (eds.), Eat, Drink and Be Merry (Luke 12:19). Food and Wine in Byzan-
tium, Papers of the 37th Annual Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, in Honour
of Professor A.A.M. Bryer, Society for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies, Publi-
cations 13, Aldershot, 191-222.
Watson, A. 1974. The Arab agricultural revolution and its diffusion, 700-110, Journal
of Economic History 34.1, 8-35.
Watson, A. 1981. A Medieval ‘Green Revolution’: New crops and farming techniques
in the Early Islamic world, in: A.L. Udovich (ed.), The Islamic Middle East, 700-
1900: Studies in Economic and Social History, Princeton, 29-58.
Watson, A. 1983. Agricultural Innovation in the Early Islamic World: The Diffusion of
Crops and Farming Techniques, 700-1100, Cambridge.
Watson, O.W. 2014. Revisiting Samarra: The rise of Islamic glazed pottery, Beiträge
zur islamischen Kunst und Archäologie 4, 125-44.
Wickham, C. 2005. Framing the Early Middle Ages. Europe and the Mediterranean
400-800, Oxford & New York.
58

fig. 1 – See colour plates page 371.
fig. 2 – Late Antique (5th to 8th centuries) panera from El Castillejo de Nívar (above) and Amiral
(8th to 9th centuries), ṭabaq from Ilbīra (below) ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
fig. 3 – Left: 10th-century tannūr from La Rábita de Guardamar (redrawn from Gutiérrez Lloret
1993, 57). Right: 10th-century anafre from Madīnat al-Zahrā’, Cordoba (redrawn from Vallejo Triano
and Escudero Aranda 1999, 158).
59

fig. 4 – Ratio of closed and open cooking forms in a number of archaeological sites in southern al-An-
dalus, in percentages. See table 2 in Appendix i on page 49 for full display of data ( J.C. Carvajal
López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
fig. 5 – Wheelmade cooking pot of the 10th century in Ilbīra (left) and one made on a slow wheel
found in Bajjāna (right). (The cooking pot from Bajjāna has been redrawn from Castillo Galdeano y
Martínez Madrid, 1993, 102).
60

fig. 6 – Ataifor from Ilbīra (10th century) ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
61

fig. 7 – Percentages of open tablewares over whole assemblages and of glazed vessels over the total
of open table wares in different archaeological sites of south al-Andalus. No glazed tablewares were
documented in El Castillejo de Nívar Phase i, in Marinet and Mollet or in Cordoba. There are no data
available about amounts of glazed table wares in Marroquíes Bajos Phases i and ii, Santa Fe de Oliva
or El Castillejo de Los Guájares. See table 3 in Appendix ii on page 50 for full display of data ( J.C.
Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
62

* * *
Dining habits at Tarsus

in the Early Islamic period:
A ceramic perspective from Turkey
Yasemin Bağcı & Joanita Vroom
i n t roduct ion
Although the archaeology of diet and foodways in the eastern Mediterranean is now-
adays a growing field of study, archaeological research into the subject of Early Islamic
dining culture has been very limited up until now.1 Most Islamic pottery specialists
have devoted their energy to discussing the typo-chronology of the various types of
glazed and unglazed ceramics, while much less attention has been paid to the ques-
tions of how, and by whom, these vessels were actually used.2 If Islamic archaeology
has any hope to keep up with the rapid developments in neighbouring fields of study,
there is every reason to expand its perspective to include these important questions
within its scope.3
This article sets out to do precisely this. In order to address the question of how
Islamic pots and pans were used in daily life, the following discussion addresses two
major tableware groups of the Early Islamic period from the perspective of contempo-
rary dining habits. In addition, this paper will try to formulate a more general prelim-
inary proposal to explore, from an archaeological perspective, everyday eating habits
in Tarsus during the Abbasid period (mid-8th – mid-10th centuries ce).4
The first part of this paper is devoted to the historical background of Tarsus and
the archaeological context of the ceramic finds we present here. The second part deals
with the typo-chronology of two key tableware groups from the Abbasid period,
which can be roughly dated between the mid-9th and mid-10th centuries. Similarly,
both are from Tarsus in southern Turkey and are part of the ‘Goldman Study Collec-
tion’, which is being preserved in the storage rooms of the ‘Gözlükule Archaeological
Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 63-94 (+ plates pp. 372-374) © 63

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113478

Project’. This ceramic collection is named after Hetty Goldman, the director of the
1935-1948 excavations on the Gözlükule Mound within the city of Tarsus.5
The third part of the paper aims to provide a context for understanding the two
tableware groups through the perspective of Early Islamic dining habits. For this, pri-
mary textual sources of foodways and eating habits, as well as secondary literature on
nourishment and diets in the Abbasid period, are discussed in relation to tablewares
and kitchen equipment of the 9th-10th centuries. These texts include, amongst others,
the recently translated 10th-century Baghdadi cookbook, the Kitab al-Tabikh (‘The
Book of Dishes’), and the important study of Muhammad Ahsan’s Social life under
the Abbasids (1979).
The final part of this article discusses some illustrated Medieval Islamic manu-
scripts. These depict meals and other scenes from daily life which could provide picto-
rial information on the usage of the tablewares under study, particularly in the dining
culture of the Abbasid period. More specifically, we will discuss whether these depic-
tions can be related to some of the vessels found in the Tarsus archaeological reper-
toire, though one must consider that images of the Abbasid ceramics may not exist in
the pictorial evidence.6
It is important here to say a word about the biases of the data being discussed.
Firstly, due to the digging methods of old excavations, we are not dealing with regular
archaeological data. As will be explained below in more detail, the ceramic assemblage
predominantly includes glazed tablewares, which are unfortunately not well-strati-
fied. This situation constrains our ability to make an adequate interpretation of both
the archaeological remains and the associated finds. Secondly, the primary and sec-
ondary sources used in this paper mainly focus on Muslim sources. In the context of
Tarsus, located at the eastern frontier of the Byzantine Empire, this choice might lead
to an incomplete context. Thirdly, as the earliest extant illustrated Medieval Islamic
manuscripts date to the late 12th century, the pictorial evidence we will be using here
is not contemporary with the ceramic finds, so we might risk anachronism. In short,
our proposed ideas on eating customs and dining habits in Tarsus during the Abbasid
period constitute a work in progress and their tentative nature should be emphasized.
t h e h istor ic a l backgrou n d
Due to its strategic position, the city of Tarsus is a place steeped in history. Located
in the fertile plain of Cilicia, Tarsus is irrigated by several rivers including the river
Berdan (Cydnus, or Tarsus river). Furthermore, it is the major settlement between the
coast and the Cilician Gates, which is the only pass through the Taurus Mountains
that leads into inland Anatolia (Modern Turkey).7 Apart from being the capital of
64

b ağ c ı & v ro om – di n i ng h a bi t s at ta r s us
Cilicia Prima in the Roman period, Tarsus is known as the birthplace of Saint Paul
the Apostle.8
After the arrival of Islam in the 7th century, Tarsus became one of the largest
cities of the thughūr al-shām,9 a historical and geographical term coined by Medieval
Muslim geographers qualifying the Arab-Byzantine frontier in the Abbasid period
(ca. mid 8th – mid 10th century).10 In fact, as the British historian Hugh Kennedy
suggested, the Cilician Gates became the most popular pass for the military raids
organised by the Abbasids against the Byzantines in inland Anatolia between the late
8th and the 10th centuries.11 Consequently, being the largest settlement below the
Cilician passes, the significance of Tarsus increased as it became a commercial and
military town with a cosmopolitan society. This included it being home to soldiers
from all over the Islamic world as well as scholars and ascetics.12
t h e a rch a eologic a l backgrou n d
One of the largest Early Islamic occupations in Turkey was recovered on the multi-pe-
riod settlement mound in Tarsus, also known as the Gözlükule Mound. This is one
of the most important sites for Anatolian archaeology thanks to the early excavations
of Hetty Goldman conducted between 1935 and 1948. After a gap of fifty years, ex-
cavations on the Gözlükule Mound started again in 2007 due to the collaborative
efforts of Bryn Mawr College (Pennsylvania, usa) and Boğaziçi University (Istanbul,
Turkey). Their excavations are now known collectively as the ‘Tarsus-Gözlükule In-
terdisciplinary Research Project’.
The recent excavations have revealed an extensive Medieval settlement which can
be preliminarily dated to the Abbasid period (mid-8th to the mid-10th centuries). The
new observations suggest that the architectural structures in the upper layers of the
Medieval strata were built with new techniques (e.g. plastered and tiled floors, deep
septic pits) previously unknown on this site. Consequently, the current excavation
director, Aslı Özyar, has suggested that these new construction methods were brought
by new settlers to the mound.13 It is, however, too early to come to a full interpretation
of the function of these remains as these layers have not yet been studied in detail.
The Islamic structures found during the excavations of the 1930s are currently the
most rewarding for acquiring information about the nature of the settlement on the
mound and the process of urbanisation. A thorough study of the archival material
from the 1935-1948 Gözlükule excavations (excavation diaries, maps and inventory
notebooks), has shown that the Islamic occupation found in the first excavations
closely resembled those discovered during the current archaeological project. In fact,
in the north-west of the area which was labelled ‘section B’ during the old excavations,
65

a large occupation zone was discovered to the south-west of the mound. This occupa-
tion zone included a long street running north-south with collateral intramural spaces
on both sides. The whole settlement area was marked by a fair number of deep pits (the
same type as those found in the current excavations). Furthermore, there were vari-
ous structures recovered, yet only one building was fully excavated and documented
carefully.
This building belonged to a set of contemporary structures excavated on oth-
er parts of the mound and had both an industrial, and a domestic, character.14 The
structure seemed to be employed as a dwelling, where craft-related activities were un-
dertaken. Evidence for small-scale industry in the house was evident in the complex
installation of a drainage system which was connected to a basin and a well. In a later
phase, as the archaeological finds (among which included fine wares and stucco ar-
chitectural elements) suggest, this establishment seemed to be enlarged into a more
opulent house. The building was composed of five rooms connected by corridors. This
layout differed from the more widely spread structures of the Abbasid period, which
were centred around inner courtyards. Comparative literature was unfortunately lim-
ited since houses of the Abbasid period are not well-known archaeologically in eastern
Turkey, nor in northern Syria.
The Islamic layer, and similarly this house, may have included at least two habi-
tation phases, though their dating remains speculative. In fact, there were problems
with the documentation that prevented matching the archaeological finds with their
records. Although some coins were recorded, these were not among the archaeological
finds in the storage rooms of the Tarsus archaeological project. Furthermore, the con-
text information of some of the finds were missing. Nevertheless, in the cases where
coins and pottery could be associated, these agreed a date in the 10th century for the
abandonment of the building. The earliest phase of use appeared to date to the 9th
century.
The pottery finds uncovered in the different rooms of the building primarily con-
sisted of imported fine wares, such as Lustrewares, White Opaque Glazed Ware with
cobalt blue decoration and Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware. Together with other
objects, such as lamps, these ceramic finds were predominantly concentrated in the
two largest rooms of the building, suggesting that daily activities were practiced in
these two areas. We should keep in mind that we are very poorly informed about the
archaeological formation processes of this building because of the bad documentation
of the old excavations. Therefore, this interpretation is only possible if the finds were
in situ when they were excavated. Due to the discovery of these high-quality ceramics,
this building was previously described as a ‘villa’ by the archaeologists in the 1930s.15
However, it is better to remain cautious about this interpretation. Indeed, the import-
66

ed fine tablewares and the stucco decoration constituted significant evidence for the
affluence of the inhabitants, but the term ‘villa’ seems too vague to use in this context.
In short, due to the lack of systematic documentation of the archaeological re-
mains we might tentatively attribute the Early Islamic building on the Gözlükule
Mound to a community with high purchasing power. The imported fine glazed wares
are important clues for this preliminary interpretation. However, it is not possible to
say more about its inhabitants. They indeed used these imported wares in their daily
activities in the house, but we do not know whether the owners were the only consum-
ers or whether they had any servants.
Even though there is little information available on the archaeological picture of
the city of Tarsus in its entirety in the Medieval period, the later pottery finds from
the Gözlükule Mound are almost exclusively related to ceramic classes that were most-
ly produced, consumed and distributed in the Middle East during the Abbasid pe-
riod.16 It is therefore interesting to find out whether the material culture (especially
the pottery) unearthed on the Gözlükule Mound may shed light on how Tarsus was
connected to the Abbasid networks of commercial and cultural exchange.
ce r a m ics f rom t h e göz lü k u l e mou n d e xc avat ions
The ceramic finds, which are the main focus of this article, were recovered during
the 1935-1948 excavations on the large Gözlükule Mound in the southern part of the
city of Tarsus.17 Despite the selective preservation of objects during the 1930s, a com-
parison of the 1935-1948 Medieval ceramics with those recovered during the new ex-
cavations revealed a strong correlation, between the two pottery assemblages, in the
representation of different wares.
The 1935-1948 Gözlükule Medieval ceramics represent an unusual pottery corpus,
since more than 60% of the material is glazed.18 As the well-stratified contexts are
not abundant, the Tarsus pottery finds are not suitable for refining chronologies. The
dating of the ceramics is made through a comparison with similar looking pottery of
the Abbasid period. Consequently, the Tarsus ceramics can be dated to the mid-9th
and mid-10th centuries based on a comparable pottery assemblage from al-Hadir, in
northern Syria (phase iv).19
This assemblage is a homogenous group composed mainly of fine wares, both in
unglazed and glazed versions. The latter display a diverse morphological repertoire
with various complete shapes as well as a substantial diversity in surface treatment
techniques. The distribution of the provenances of the glazed pottery might illustrate
the site’s substantial consumption. In fact, 22% of the glazed tablewares are imported
while 42% are regional products.
67

Due to these high quality fine wares, the Tarsus ceramics are comparable to pot-
tery finds from Abbasid urban centres, among which are the Iraqi capital of Samarra
and the Iranian city of Susa.20 The finds from Tarsus seem, therefore, to point to a
consumption site of considerable importance, which was undoubtedly connected to
the economic system and the cultural koiné of the Abbasids stretching from Europe
to Asia.
In fact, the Tarsus assemblage reveals that trade in this frontier zone operated both
on a regional and an extra-regional scale (including even China). This is attested to by
the discovery of fragments of a Yue Ware bowl in the Gözlükule Mound excavations.21
Chinese Yue Ware vessels were specifically manufactured in southern China for the
Middle Eastern market during the 9th and 10th centuries. According to the British
archaeologist Janice Stargardt, Yue Ware became a popular export commodity be-
tween the years 836-907 along with mass-produced Changsha ceramics, yet this trend
declined during the Late Tang period (907-970).22 Although the discovery of a Yue
Ware bowl may not be a sign of direct contact with China, this find nonethless shows
the range of on-going trade in Tarsus during these centuries. The Medieval exchange
networks have been the subject of several scholarly publications.23
From the various Islamic pottery types of the Abbasid period found on the Gö-
zlükule Mound we have chosen two major groups of tablewares as examples for the
discussion within this article. The first group consists of ‘Lustrewares’, which seem
to have been imported, and the second group includes ‘Polychrome Painted Glazed
Ware’, which was probably a regional product.
a bba si d ta bl ewa r es
The fragments of Lustrewares of the Abbasid period, from the Gözlükule Mound
assemblage, are made of a very fine-grained, yellow soft fabric. This clay is currently
associated with a provenance in Basra, the largest Iraqi port city on the Persian Gulf,
whose power peaked in the Abbasid period.24 However, the existence of other possible
production centres in the vicinity cannot be excluded.25 Within the repertoire of Me-
dieval finds from the Gözlükule Mound, open forms are more predominant. One of
the most common shapes is a medium-sized bowl with a low ring foot and an everted
curved rim which is frequently associated with a Chinese vessel form (Figs. 1a-e).26
Lustrewares have, in general, been considered as an up-scale ceramic production
for several reasons. Firstly, the technology involved at least two firings which was,
not only costly and complex, but also proved to be quite difficult when obtaining the
right hue for the glazes.27 Secondly, the distribution of Lustrewares was mostly over
sea and, these high-quality ‘glossy’ tablewares, were often found in large quantities at
68

important urban centres of the Abbasid period. In fact, Lustrewares were, until now,
noted on sites in Turkey, Syria, Israel, Palestine, Jordan, Egypt, Tunisia, Spain, Por-
tugal, eastern Africa, Iraq, Iran, Bahrain, Oman, Yemen, eastern Africa, Uzbekistan,
Sri-Lanka, Pakistan and Thailand (among which to mention a few, Samarra in Iraq,
Susa in Iran, Antakya/Ancient Antioch-on-the Orontes in Turkey and Kairouan in
Tunisia); This thus shows a long-distance distribution.28
Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware29, on the other hand, represents the largest
amount of tablewares of the Abbasid period found at the old Gözlükule Mound exca-
vations.30 This group of tableware is made of a fine and hard calcareous fabric, which
is fired orange-red with a maximum porosity level of 20%.31 The diversity of the mor-
phological repertoire, the variety of the surface treatments, as well as the occurrence of
similar forms on unglazed examples, suggests that Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware
was probably regionally produced.32 Open vessels are more common and the most
ordinary shape is a medium-large shallow rounded bowl with a straight or slightly
inverted rim (Figs. 2a-d).
In contrast to Lustrewares, this pottery type and some related wares demonstrate
a distribution confined to the limits of the Middle East (e.g. Iraq, Iran, Jordan, Israel,
Palestine, Syria, Turkey and Egypt). So far, Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware and its
variants were recorded in approximately the same urban centres as those cited above
for Lustrewares, such as Samarra and Antakya/Antioch-on-the Orontes, but exclud-
ing the sites outside the Middle East.33 In short, this pottery type is a fine tableware,
but it cannot be compared with the costly production of Lustrewares; this is due to its
further limited geographical distribution and its morphological and physical compo-
nents, including fabric, shape and decoration.
A comparison of the morphological components of these two tableware groups
shows some interesting results. Although the repertoire of both groups includes dif-
ferent shapes, the vessel volumes are closely related.34 The bowls can contain up to 1.9
litres, while the dishes around 0.9-0.8 litres (Fig. 3).
Furthermore, the decorative vocabulary of both wares consists of dots, split-pal-
mettes, diamond shaped checkerboard patterns and almond shaped designs. As such,
these motifs demonstrate a common ornamental repertoire, which may display a
shared taste in the Middle East and Egypt in a time when both regions were polit-
ically under Abbasid sovereignty (Figs. 4a-4b). This shared taste, or cultural koiné,
could perhaps be tied to mechanisms of supply and demand, including the economic
upsurge of the 9th and 10th centuries, when trade reached an international scale.35
With respect to the economy, this may be tied to mechanisms of supply and de-
mand among others, including the economic upsurge of the 9th and 10th centuries,
when trade reached international scales. Apart from this commercial factor, there is
69

also a socio-political component. Recently, Hugh Kennedy has argued that the Ab-
basid Caliphate was a society of status and display.36 In the same way, as we will see
below, the French historian Maxime Rodinson stressed that conspicuous consump-
tion was part of this society and served, among others, the purposes of social exposure
and competition politics.37 This trend generated an increased urge to acquire expen-
sive goods. When the originals of these costly objects could not be obtained, cheaper
copies might have satisfied this need. With respect to material culture (pottery), this
resulted in the dissemination of decorative styles and ceramic technologies which were
reproduced in wares of different qualities. Lustreware and Polychrome Painted Glazed
Ware are remarkable examples of this phenomenon. The latter seems to be a region-
al adaptation of a more widespread and expensive tableware product. Eye-catching,
with their colourful and shiny decoration, the glazed tablewares of the Abbasid period
corresponded to one of the most popular commodities circulating in exchange net-
works.38 After introducing thus the ceramic evidence, specifically the tablewares from
the Gözlükule Mound repertoire, this article aims to explore the historical sources
dealing with Abbasid food culture and dining habits.
t h e use of ta bl ewa r es for di n i ng i n t h e k i ta b a l -ta bi k h
The number of Arabic cookbooks (12 manuals in total from the Near East, North
Africa and Iberia, which can dated between the 10th and 14th centuries) that can be
assigned to the Medieval period is not comparable with any other civilization; this
includes the Chinese who were famous for being the earliest culture to develop a haute
cuisine.39 The sheer amount of manuals is representative of the importance attributed
to gastronomy in the culture of the Islamic World, including the Abbasid Caliphate.
According to Maxime Rodinson, it was particularly in the Abbasid period that Arabic
cookbooks developed.40 He explained this phenomenon with ’conspicuous consump-
tion’, which was practiced by the wealthy classes of Abbasid society for whom exces-
sive luxury and extravaganza became the socially accepted norm for quality-living.41
Blending literature and cuisine, two forms of art dear to the higher classes, cookbooks
were greatly appreciated by the Abbasid society.42
The manual Kitab al-Tabikh, written by the 10th-century author al-Warraq and
translated into English by Nawal Nasrallah, represents an invaluable source of infor-
mation about Early Islamic cuisine conceived and/or practiced in the Abbasid capital
of Baghdad.43 The most extraordinary aspect of al-Warraq’s cookbook is that it consti-
tutes one of the earliest cookbooks of the Eastern world, after Apicius’ Book of Cookery
written in the 4th century.44 In addition, this manual not only sheds light on the val-
ues of the urban population, but represents a unique resource to reconstruct the social
70

history of the Abbasid period, including table etiquette and utensils. As David Waines
has correctly suggested, the Kitab al-Tabikh was not only compiled for the members
of the court, but more probably for the ‘bourgeoisie’, the urban class of the Abbasid
period (including bureaucrats, religious scholars, merchants, soldiers, etc.) who per-
ceived these manuals as status items.45 In order to tackle the question of social prestige
and socio-economic hierarchy through culinary means, it may well be interesting to
examine the place of tablewares and other dining objects of this Abbasid cookbook.
Along with an extensive list of utensils, the Kitab al-Tabikh mentions a number
of dining vessels. These consist of serving dishes referred to as jafna, qaṣ‘a, ṣaḥfa, tay-
furriyya, corresponding to large and wide bowls qualified according to the number
of people they can feed (Table 1).46 Even though these objects cannot be directly at-
tributed to the glazed tablewares of the Tarsus ceramic assemblage, this particular
nomenclature does demonstrate the importance bestowed on objects used for dining
equipment. Considering the obvious criteria for the function of serving and feeding,
one can imply that the role of commensality – the practice of eating together – was
important in the socio-politics of the period.
The process was first cultural, communal meals were a testimony to the Muslim
values of generosity and hospitality.47 To illustrate this idea, the American historian
Charles Perry quoted a famous saying of the prophet Mohammad: ‘Food for one is
enough for two, food for two is enough for four, food for four is enough for eight’.48
name morphology function

jafna big and wide bowl (mainly from metal or wood), feeding more than ten people,
some are qualified as being as large as a child man could eat from them in a standing position
could drown in them
qaṣ‘a big and wide bowl (mainly from wood or feeding ten people, used for tharīd dishes
ceramic)
ṣaḥfa big, wide, and shallow serving bowl feeding five people
mi’kala serving bowl feeding two or three people
big and wide bowl similar to a punch bowl used for serving wine, a smaller bowl is scooped
in the drink for serving
ṭayfūr big serving bowl used for meat dishes such as qadīd
mikabba domed bowl lid used for covering the serving bowl while carrying
it to the table
ṣuḥayfa single-serving bowl feeding one man
ghaḍar green glazed earthenware bowl used during the preparation and service of
different kinds of dishes
sukurruja small bowl for serving dips. Small ones equal half used for serving condiments such as kawāmīkh
a cup, larger ones equate to one and half cups and dipping sauces
table 1 – Serving vessels mentioned in the Kitab al-Tabikh (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom; after Nasrallah 2007,
passim; Ahsan 1979, passim).
71

Secondly, the sharing of food was socio-political, it allowed space for creating social
bonds and cooperation, and for competing for prestige and acceptance in the Mus-
lim community. The idea of assimilation through food consumption can also be seen
in the adab of dining, an Arabic word referring to ‘proper conduct and etiquette’.49
Among numerous anecdotes and examples on how one should dine, the Kitab al-Ta-
bikh contains some interesting references including specifications about commensality
and table settings. The regulations of conduct indicate: ‘the consummate companion
eats his food using two fingers only, gently and quickly’, ‘the accomplished companion
does not sip the stew in the main bowl or inspect to see what it is in’ and ‘he should
not look at the communal dish…’.50 These examples shed light on the strict dining
etiquette and the frequent use of a communal vessel to share the main dish, which is
also consistent with the nomenclature qualifying a wide range of dining bowls that
we have seen above.51
The Kitab al-Tabikh does not clearly specify the material from which these vessels
were made. For ceramics, one exception is the ghaḍāra. This term corresponds to a
green glazed earthenware bowl and is described as a common utensil used during the
preparation and serving of various dishes.52 For example, the ghaḍāra is not only men-
tioned in the recipes of entrees, such as the appetizer bawārid, but also in the recipes
of main dishes like tharīd, pieces of bread sopped in broth with meat, and the recipes
of desserts including khābiṣ, a kind of condensed pudding.53
The cooking manual mentions other vessels such as ṭayfūriyya, which are employed
both in the service and the preparation of dishes.54 What is remarkable about a ṭay-
fūriyya bowl, or plate, is the idea that it is also used as a complementary serving set.
This evidence might offer some ideas on how tables were laid. The cookbook recom-
mends in some recipes the use of a smaller sauce bowl to be placed in the middle of
a ṭayfūriyya serving bowl or plate. For example, a khayṭiyya recipe (‘a porridge with
threadlike meat shreds’) is served in a ṭayfūriyya with murrī (liquid fermented sauce)
placed in a small bowl, which is referred to as a sukurruja, in the centre of the table.55
Sukurruja or ’uskurruja are described as being used in the service of dipping sauces,
such as murrī or ṣibāgh (liquid fermented or unfermented sauces) and of appetizers
collectively called idām.56
The attempt to associate the vessels cited in the cookbook with actual ceramic
finds from the Gözlükule pottery assemblage might be misleading. However, tak-
ing the different dining equipment mentioned in the Kitab al-Tabikh all together, it
might show the large repertoire of dining vessels as well as their multi-functional use.
While the concept of variety embracing ideas of luxury, abundance and blessing may
be related to hospitality, brotherhood, status and display, the versatility of the objects
may be connected to practical use. It is therefore tempting to consider the question of
72

the relationship between shape and function. How, and to what extent, are we able
to relate the most popular foods of the Abbasid period – that is to say, those cited by
Muhammad Ahsan and those depicted in the Kitab al-Tabikh – with real ceram-
ic evidence from excavated contexts? These questions require an investigation of the
primary and secondary sources dealing with the dietary habits of the Abbasid period,
which will be compared with ceramic finds of the same period.
descr i p t ions of food cu lt u r e a n d dish es

i n t h e k i ta b a l -ta bi k h
The American historian Ken Albala underlined in 2007 the relevance of culinary
manuals as historical sources. Being part of prescriptive literature, Albala convinc-
ingly demonstrated that cookbooks generally represented popular aspirations about
cuisine, or information that people longed to know about food rather than the bona
fide cuisine.57 Therefore, it should be reminded that the dishes of the Kitab al-Tabikh
must be studied with caution as these descriptions represent idealised recipes which
may not depict a realistic picture of food culture in Abbasid times. Nevertheless, Naw-
al Nasrallah’s insightful interpretation of the manual, and Muhammad Ahsan’s book
Social Life under the Abbasids, are exceptional in providing valuable information on
how cuisine was perceived and practiced in Early Medieval Iraq.58
Abbasid food culture differed considerably between different social strata. For the
wealthy classes, cuisine was characterised by the variety, and the number, of dishes of-
fered during dinner. On the other hand, poorer classes would get their food from the
market. Their diet consisted of seasonable vegetables, pulses and cheaper cuts of meat
as well as bread, dates and butter.59 As we are dealing with ceramic finds that were
daily objects used by the largest part of society, we are more interested in the general
diet of the Abbasid period.
The meals consumed (by the rich and the poor) consisted mainly of semi-liquid
and soft dishes, such as porridges and pulses. According to Nawal Nasrallah and Mu-
hammad Ahsan, these cereal based pulses and porridges included dishes such as harī-
sa60, ḥinṭiyya (made with crushed wheat) and ‘adasiyya (made with lentils), which were
rooted in the Babylonian tradition (ca. 2000-1600 bce).61
Other grain-based sweeter dishes, with soft and sometimes liquid consistencies,
included ‘aṣīda / jūdhāba 62 and sawīq.63 The eminent Arabic writer of the Abbasid
period, al-Jahiz (d. 868) described sawīq as a travelers’ fare.64 Named after jūdhābadān,
the pan it was prepared in, jūdhāba was a favourite market dish.65
Stews, such as sikbāj or tharīd, remained some of the most popular dishes. Attrib-
uted to a Persian origin, sikbāj was a kind of meat stew soured with vinegar into which
73

vegetables such as carrot, aubergines could be added.66 Stews could be prepared, like
tharīd, referring to a certain way of preparing the bread, cut in pieces and dipped in
broth (bread was one of the main elements of the Medieval menu, either for dipping
in broth or served solely). For the less privileged classes, the bread pieces were sopped
in a broth of chickpeas or of fava beans, while for richer people meat broth would be
mostly used and hence tharīd would be served with meat and vegetables.67
Even though it was more generally prepared for rituals, the practice of grilling
animal meat including its internal organs can be dated as early as the Babylonian
period.68 During the Abbasid period, kabāb was sliced meat that was pan-fried or
grilled on coal and salted.69 Animal heads and trotters (for pācha) were first cleaned
according to strict rules, such as cleaning it twice in hot and cold water and then cut
into pieces before boiling the mixture for consumption. These meat dishes were more
commonly spiced with salt, while summāq (sumac), a kind of sour spice, was added to
flavour pācha (Table 2).70
name consistency ingredients

harīsa soft, semi-liquid porridge cooked with meat and grains such as rice or wheat, it requires continuous
cooking and beating
ḥinṭiyya soft, semi-liquid porridge cooked with crushed wheat
adassiya soft, semi-liquid dishes of lentil cooked with or without meat and vegetables, especially chard
‘aṣīda soft, semi-liquid a kind of dense soup, the main ingredients are flour, fat and water, when mixed
mashed dates and butter, it is also served as a dessert
jūdhāba soft, semi-liquid a kind of bread pudding sometimes served with meat
sawīq soft, liquid crushed grains mixed sugar and water or milk
sikbāj soft, liquid stew made of fat meat and vegetables such as carrot, eggplants and vinegar
tharīd soft, semi-liquid broken pieces of bread sopped in broth with boned meat and vegetables, vegetarian
and cheaper versions exist where meat is substituted with chickpeas or fava beans
kabāb hard, solid sliced meat that is grilled (on burning coal) or pan-fried and salted
pācha hard, solid animal heads and trotters, cut in pieces, boiled served with salt and sumac
table 2 – Popular dishes of the Abbasid period (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom; after Nasrallah 2007, passim;
Ahsan 1979, passim).
This survey of the most common consumed foods of the Abbasid period shows that
there was a certain preference for dishes with soft and juicy textures. The consistency
of this kind of menu might have required deeper containers to ensure that the food
did not overspill. As we have seen above, the most common form among the Lus-
trewares and the Polychrome Painted Glazed Wares within the Gözlükule pottery
assemblage, is the rounded bowl. The ubiquity of this shape might be related to its
function, serving liquid dishes such as stews and pulses. Moreover, large and deep
74

vessels might have been more practical when sharing food because the food parts did
not fall easily from the broad concave container.
On the other hand, shallow dishes, such as plates, might be used for heavier foods
served in pieces, such as meat or fruit. Nevertheless, we should note that other el-
ements (such as taste, fashion and dining practices) were equally important in the
choice of certain pottery forms and designs.
In addition to decorative purposes, the widespread use of glazing technology dur-
ing the Abbasid period (which was generally covering the interior of vessels), improved
and multiplied the functionalities of pottery. By reducing porosity, glazes added wa-
terproof properties to ceramic vessels thus allowing greater preservation of liquid
foods. This physical characteristic might well fit within the context of the juicy recipes
of the Abbasid period; the glazed tablewares would be more suitable for the consump-
tion of more saucy dishes. A certain preference for more juicy dishes in the Abbasid
period was already earlier suggested; this was based on the changes in cooking practic-
es, between Late Antiquity and the Abbasid period, from the archaeological evidence
(cooking pots) of the site of Horum Höyük in south-eastern Turkey.71 In this case
study, it became clear that cooking containers of the Abbasid period were gradually
standardised into several forms, including a rounded deep hole-mouth cooking pot
with horizontal ledge handles.72 These changes in the formal repertoire of the cooking
pots of the Abbasid period are likely to be related to new customs in the preparation
of meals, involving more liquid mixtures, rather than a radical dietary change such as
an increase in meat consumption.73
In addition to providing an insight into the dishes appreciated by the Abbasid so-
ciety (including the ruling elite and the ‘bourgeoisie’), the cooking manual, the Kitab
al-Tabikh offers valuable information on dining vessels and eating manners. The varie-
ty of sizes and the emphasis on the function of ‘feeding’ demonstrates the importance
of these objects in Abbasid culture, where various values, such as generosity, hospitali-
ty and social prestige, could be shown through communal dining. Food seemed to be
an important element in the way power was exercised and shown, by expressing status,
either by means of large banquets or by strengthening social bonds through charitable
acts when offering food to the poor.74 This can also be noticed in paintings found in
illustrated Medieval books.
t h e pictor i a l ev i de nce
Unfortunately, there are no visual sources which depict dining scenes contemporary
to the above-mentioned tablewares of the Abbasid period (i.e. Lustrewares and Poly-
chrome Painted Glazed Ware), nor to the cooking manual the Kitab al-Tabikh. Al-
75

though this approach might have the risks of anachronism, one late 12th-century and
two 13th-century illustrated Islamic manuscripts (of the Late Abbasid period) might
provide hints for the use of such vessels on the table.
Richard Ettinghausen and Oleg Grabar suggested that the 12th- and 13th-century
tradition of manuscript painting in Syria and Iraq was homogeneous in terms of ico-
nography, style and subjects.75 Regarding the stylistic and iconographic components
of these paintings, Ettinghausen used the term ‘new realism’.76 In fact, Ettinghausen
argued that figural art created during the 12th and 13th centuries represented a con-
tinuum of the realistic style of figural representations developed in 11th-century Egypt
and North Africa, under the Fatimid dynasty.77 Other key factors in the development
of figural painting corresponded to the Maqamat (‘stories’) of al-Hariri of Basra (see
mentioned below with his full name) and the folk art of shadow plays, respectively
emerging in the 11th and the 12th centuries.78
Among this overarching unity in the paintings of manuscripts, the main differ-
ence revolved around the themes in these books. The manuscripts used in this article
relate to two of these themes. The first theme is referred to as ‘illustration of technical
and scientific subject matter as visual aids to ensure proper identification and to fa-
cilitate explanations’; the second is more broadly classified under paintings related to
literary works.79 The Kitab al-Diryaq and the Maqamat of al-Hariri illustrate these
two themes respectively. Some illustrations from 13th-century copies of these texts are
going to be discussed below.
t h e k i ta b a l -di ryaq (t h e book of a n t i dot es)
The Kitab al-Diryaq of the Paris National Library which was copied in 1199, consti-
tutes one of the earliest illustrated Islamic manuscripts.80 It is is an Arabic codice on
antidotes, which were made with snake venom or which were created to counteract
snake poisoning.81 Although anonymous, the writer is known as Pseudo-Galen (re-
ferring to the well-known 2nd century Greek physician and pharmacologist Galen)
or Pseudo-Joannes Grammatikos.82 Even if the historical accuracy of this 12th- cen-
tury compilation is questionable, this manuscript holds a remarkable pictorial pro-
gram.83 The painting referred here is included in the first part of the Kitab al-Diryaq
dealing with the lives of nine physicians. It depicts the physician Andromachus the
Younger (first century ad) visiting the agriculturalists on his land estate.84 While
the physician is watching agricultural activities, his servant brings food and drink to
the workers (Fig. 5).85
In the painting, the two-handled large jar, carried by the servant, undoubtedly
contains liquids. This jar is depicted in a light orange colour, very similar to fired
76

earthenware. It is decorated with incised lines on the upper and lower parts of the
body. On the one hand, the rounded base resembles amphora bases and, on the other,
the incised wavy decoration on the upper part are commonly found on the Unglazed
Buff Wares that were recovered in large quantities on the Gözlükule Mound in Tar-
sus.86 Unglazed Buff Wares were used for utilitarian purposes, in particular, for the
storage and service of liquids. This group of ceramics is frequently unglazed and is
characterised by a porous calcareous fabric (generally in a buff colour), which facili-
tates the evaporation of water. Consequently, this kind of pottery was frequently used
for beverages.
The vessels containing the food are depicted as round bowls with a relatively high
ring foot. The unique colour (yellow) could suggest that these objects were made from
the same material. However, it is difficult to tell if these were made of earthenware or
of metal. Considering that the scene is set outdoors, and that the topic is related to the
agriculturalists working in the field, it may be tempting to believe that we are dealing
here with ceramic objects. Despite the stylised depiction of food, it is quite clear that
the meal offered to the agriculturalists is not a large piece of meat consumed in feasts
(as one will see in other paintings) but rather smaller (and less costly) portions of food.
a l -h a r i r i ’s m aqa m at
Also known as al-Hariri of Basra, Abu Muhammad al-Qasim b. ‘Ali b. Muhammad

b. ‘Uthman b. al-Hariri al-Basri (d. 1122) was the author of the Maqamat (assembly,
session or séance), a literary genre founded in the 10th century.87 Alternating rhyth-
mic prose and poetry, these assemblies consisted of 50 anecdotes, taking place in 50
cities, during which the narrator al-Harith was tricked by the (anti-) hero, Abu Zayd
al-Saruji.88 As an expression of Arabic rhetoric and linguistic ingenuity, the Maqamat
was appreciated widely by the educated class and was copied and illustrated in, at least,
a dozen manuscripts.89 The stories, as well as the protagonists, display wits contrary to
moral norms and reflected situations and anecdotes corroborating with urban life as
it was experienced in large cities of the Islamic world.90
One of the paintings used in this article is included in the 1237 Paris copy of the
Maqamat, named after its previous owner, Maqamat al-Hariri Schefer or Hariri
Schefer.91 It was copied and illustrated by Yahya b. Mahmud b. Yahya b. Abi al-Hasan
b. Kuwarriha al-Wasiti, whose family must have originated from Wasit in southern
Iraq. The second copy of the Maqamat is undated. Its date can be attributed to ca.
1225-40 due to the style of its paintings, which are closely related to the Paris exam-
ple.92 In contrast to the 1237 manuscript, the other copy of the Maqamat has been
published less extensively. This manuscript is preserved in the Institute of Oriental
77

Studies of the Academy of Sciences, Saint Petersburg.93 At an unknown date, the il-
lustrations were damaged by Muslim iconoclasts who drew lines on the throats of the
human figures.
Ettinghausen stressed that it was with al-Hariri’s Maqamat that ‘Arab painting
reached its apogée’.94 Although current art historian discussions are generally reticent
to ideas revolving around ‘apogée’ or ‘decline’ it is still worth noting that the paintings
in the Maqamat manuscripts represented an unprecedented development, both in the
refinement of the pictorial program and the variety of subjects it tackled.95 In fact, a
great deal of effort was put in the representation of objects’ details as well as some spa-
tial elements including interiors and outdoor flora. All these elements contributed to
the realism of these scenes, thus, representing an exceptional insight into daily life in
Medieval Iraq.96 Eminent scholars, such as Oleg Grabar and Shirley Guthrie, associated
the illustrations of the Maqamat with documents on society in the Medieval period.97
The scene from the 1237 copy of al-Hariri’s Maqamat, that this article has chosen
to examine, is set outdoors (Fig. 6). It illustrates preparation of food for a feast with
a camel being butchered in the background. The content of the cooking pot is trans-
ferred into large bowls which are carried away by servants. The large cooking pot or
cauldron is depicted with a rectangular body with slightly flaring rims in black. The
shape and the colour of this pot seems similar to metal or soapstone vessels which
were common cooking utensils in the Abbasid period.98 Food appears to be served in
fairly deep and medium sized vessels, often bearing a banded decoration on the upper
part of the exterior, which might be a stylised representation of an incised (or painted)
inscription. These vessels have a conical body with straight flaring rims whereas those
of the Kitab al-Diryaq display more rounded forms. Similar to the illustration in the
Kitab al-Diryaq, these bowls are painted in yellow. It is difficult to tell whether they
are made of earthenware or metal.
The other painting is from the Saint Petersburg copy of al-Hariri’s Maqamat (Fig. 7).99
This indoor scene depicts a crowded wedding banquet. Sitting on the floor, a group of
men are gathered around the food. The meal is served in colourful vessels of various
sizes placed on the floor, from which, the guests eat with their hands. The half-moon
shaped forms, painted in white and spread next to the vessels in front of them, illus-
trate bread pieces. Two figures drinking from a bowl are portrayed on the left, while
another man is drinking from a jug held by a servant on the right side. In comparison
to the monochrome vessels of the previous paintings, the fact that these vessels are
depicted in multiple colours increases the possibility that they are earthenware.
This painting is also interesting for looking at the variation in the sizes of the ves-
sels. From these illustrations, one could observe that large vessels contain the main
78

dish (roasted meat), whereas other dishes are served in medium sized bowls, all of
which are used in a communal way. Furthermore, small bowls seem to be used for
drinking. The medium sized lobed bowl, placed between two roasted meats, seems
to contain white granular food that may represent cereal pulses or porridges; these
may be as harīsa or ḥinṭiyya dishes which are frequently mentioned in the Kitab
al-Tabikh.
The illustrations of vessels in these paintings show that meat based main dishes
(presumably for wealthy consumers) are predominantly served in large vessels, where-
as appetisers or side dishes are presented in smaller dishes.100 Smaller vessels are used
interchangeably for drinking and eating. Meals are consumed communally; hence
people shared the food from vessels spread around them. No spoon or forks are used
and people are dining with their hands.
conclusion
Despite the fact that this article is far from complete, it aims to offer a preliminary
view on a relatively under-investigated topic; that is to say, dining habits in the east-
ern Mediterranean during the Abbasid period (mid-8th – mid-10th centuries) from
a merely ceramic perspective. By focusing on two major tablewares (Lustrewares and
Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware) from the Medieval ceramic corpus of the 1935-1948
Gözlükule Mound excavations, this study has tried to explore some aspects regarding
eating practices and dining manners in Tarsus during Abbasid times. During this
period, Tarsus was not only a large town on the Arab-Byzantine frontier, but also a
military base with an important economic network where the armies of the Abbasid
caliphs performed jihad (holy war) against the militia of the Byzantine Empire.
Associated with one of the finest tableware production networks of the Abbasid
period, Lustrewares were related to a costly pottery production frequently assigned to
an high social class (e.g. the elite or the urban class, including bureaucrats, merchants,
religious scholars and military men). Thus, one can deduce that these vessels, painted
with elaborate lustre decoration, were probably used for serving foods on the table
akin to the dishes described in the 10th-century culinary manual Kitab al-Tabikh.
As Oliver Watson has correctly pointed out, Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware was
previously excluded from Arthur Lane’s classical sequence which summarised the ty-
po-chronological development of Islamic ceramics.101 Nevertheless, our research now
shows that this tableware and its variants, which may have been a cheaper variant of
the more costly Lustrewares, represented an important group of ceramics produced
and distributed in the Middle East during the Abbasid period, and thus deserves more
scholarly attention.
79

On the evidence of shared decorative repertoires and of similarities in vessel vol-

ume, one can assume that bowls and plates of both the Lustrewares and Polychrome
Painted Glazed Ware repertoire were used in a similar way. In fact, bowls might have
been adequate for more watery substances of semi-liquid and soft dishes. Similarly,
the shapes of the plates could have been more suited to solid and hard dishes, such as
kabāb and other meat dishes. Furthermore, the dimensions of medium sized to large
vessels were rather more appropriate for the communal dining on semi-liquid and soft
dishes; these were probably shared by two or more people as evident in the written
sources and pictorial evidence provided. Finally, the colourful painted motifs on these
tablewares made them, undoubtedly, attractive display objects, which may have been
symbols of socio-economic hierarchy, used among others in the competition politics
of the well-to-do classes in Abbasid society.
The combination of multiple sources (archaeological, pictorial and written) is an
exercise with surprising results, especially if one attempts to bring a new understand-
ing on processes of food consumption in the Abbasid period, a topic that has until now
not been investigated fully. Nevertheless, it is not an easy task to put together sources
of such different natures with the purpose of extracting one argument. For pictorial
evidence, in addition to the risks of anachronism, there is the risk of confusing a ge-
neric scene with an accurate depiction: for example, a repeatedly copied banquet scene
with a painting meticulously illustrating the details of the objects. However, this prob-
lem seems to be more common with Medieval Christian sources portraying religious
scenes.102 With regards to textual sources, the question of matching written sources,
such as the utensils mentioned in cookbooks, with actual excavated ceramic finds is
difficult and may be overall misleading due to the ‘idealised’ nature of cookbooks.
Instead, we suggest to read the cookbooks ‘in between the lines’, by asking critical
questions such as: what do these cooking manuals reveal about the symbolism and the
values attached to cuisine and dining manners?
In conclusion, even though the ceramic evidence was combined with other histor-
ical sources, the main focus on pottery may obviously not be representative of the var-
ious and multi-faceted aspects of the foodways on the Gözlükule Mound. However,
even though working with different sources to interpret the past is extremely complex,
we cannot ignore the fact that these three forms of data complement each other, hence
creating a fuller picture of everyday diet and dining habits at the site. Future study of
the Early Islamic phase, the finds uncovered during the recent excavations and upcom-
ing research on the faunal and floral remains will not only improve our understanding
of food consumption on the site to a great extent but also of the material culture used
in this process.
80

ack now l e dgm e n ts
The authors would like to thank Dr. Ivo Furman for his valuable comments on the
article, as well as the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research (nwo), the
Boğaziçi University Research Projects 02 R101, 00 R 104, 5103 and BAP 8254, the
Boğaziçi University Foundation Machteld J. Mellink Fund and last but not least the
Gözlükule Archaeological Project directed by Dr. Aslı Özyar. The research for record-
ing and analysing this pottery corpus forms the subject of Yasemin Bağcı’s PhD thesis
at the Faculty of Archaeology of Leiden University (NL). This study is part of Joani-
ta Vroom’s vidi research project Material Culture, Consumption and Social Change:
New Approaches to Understanding the Eastern Mediterranean during Byzantine and
Ottoman Times, funded by nwo between 2010 and 2015.103
81

not es
1 A good exception is, however, Magness 2010. (tr) and Bryn Mawr College (usa). The
2 Studies on the typo-chronology of Medieval first trenches were opened in 2007.
Islamic pottery include, for example, Vokaer 6 Unfortunately, the difference of period
2011; Rousset 2012; François and Shaddoud between the first illustrated manuscripts
2013. (late 12th-13th century) and the ceramics of
3 There was good reason for the young Mellon the Abbasid period (9th-10th century) does
Curatorial Fellow of the Metropolitan not allow us to discuss the point whether we
Museum of Art, Department of Islamic Art, can find depictions of Abbasid ceramics in
Matthew Saba to quote in his prize-winning paintings.
article (Saba 2012, 187) the famous Islamic 7 Sinclair 1990, 332; Özyar 2005, 9.
art historian Oleg Grabar: ‘Art history does 8 Foss 1991, ‘Tarsos’. Oxford Reference 2005.
not yet command the means to integrate the Date last accessed 8 July 2015. http://
industrial arts into the fabric of the societies www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/
that produced them, and to do that is its acref/9780195046526.001.0001/acref-
primary task.’ (Grabar 1988, 8); the article 9780195046526-e-5307.
was awarded the 2010 Margaret B. Ševčenko 9 Arabic words were transliterated following
Prize by the Historians of Islamic Art the ijmes (International Journal of Middle
Association and was subsequently published Eastern Studies) Transliteration System;
in 29th volume of Muqarnas in 2012). cf. https://ijmes.chass.ncsu.edu/IJMES_
4 This article is based on the presentation Translation_and_Transliteration_Guide.
delivered in the session: ‘Medieval htm
MasterChef. Eastern Cuisine and 10 Bonner 1996, 169; Durak 2008.
Western Food Customs: An Archaeological 11 Haldon and Kennedy 1980, 113.
Perspective’ (T04S011) at the 20th annual 12 Bosworth 1992.
meeting of the European Archaeologist 13 Personal communication with Aslı Özyar.
Association organized in Istanbul between 14 See more information on this part, the
10-14 September 2014. However, the authors upcoming PhD thesis written by Y. Bağcı.
would like to stress that the following 15 See more information on this part, the
discussion is preliminary and far from upcoming PhD thesis written by Y. Bağcı.
complete. 16 Although ceramic material is present from
5 The excavations directed by Hetty the later Byzantine, Crusader/Frankish/
Goldman in the 1920s and 1940s were Armenian and Ottoman periods, circa 90%
resumed with a survey in 2001 by the of the Medieval ceramics of Gözlükule
‘Gözlükule Archaeological Project’ under can be dated to the Abbasid period (mid
the supervision of Dr. Aslı Özyar as a 8th – mid 10th centuries), which is directly
collaboration between Boğaziçi University attributable to Abbasid occupation. This
82

number is based on our observations and glazed pottery wasters in the rescue
following studies of the Medieval ceramics excavations at the Roman bath in Tarsus; cf.
carried in Tarsus between 2011 and 2014. Adak-Adibelli 2008; idem 2013.
17 Day 1941; see also for other ceramic finds, 33 In Antioch-on-the Orontes (Turkey), Waagé
Evrin Toskay 2002. 1948, 93, groups vib 1, vib 2, vid 1, vig 1-3;
18 This number is quite different from the in Samarra (Iraq), Sarre 1925, no. 247, 229, pl.
material of the new excavations where only 31.
7% of the Medieval ceramic assemblage 34 The vessel volume was calculated by an
corresponds to glazed pottery. application developed by CRéA-Patrimoine
19 Rousset 2012, 72, 98. (Research Centre in Archaeology and
20 Sarre 1925; Rosen Ayalon 1974. Heritage). We would like to thank Agnès
21 The Medieval ceramic corpus of the 1935- Vokaer for sharing this information with us.
1948 Tarsus Gözlükule excavations includes 35 Power 2012, 212-15.
two rim pieces of a Yue Ware bowl. 36 Personal communication with Hugh
22 Stargardt 2014, 44. Kennedy.
23 For example, in general, Horden and Purcell 37 Rodinson 2001.
2000; McCormick 2001; Wickham 2005. 38 Priestman 2011, 102.
24 Northedge and Kennet 1994, 25. 39 Waines 2003, 574.
25 Priestman 2011, 101-104. 40 Rodinson 2001, 94.
26 Mason 1997, 23. 41 Rodinson 2001, 94-95.
27 Caiger-Smith 1985, 24. 42 Rodinson 2001, 97-99.
28 In Antioch-on-the Orontes (Turkey), 43 Nasrallah 2007; see also Ohrnberg and
Waagé 1948, 85-95, fig. 46-48, 53; in Samarra Mroueh 1987. Apparently, this culinary
(Iraq), Sarre 1925, 36-43, pl. xiii-xvii; in manual draws on 9th-century sources.
Susa (Iran), Rosen Ayalon 1974, 264-277 44 Nasrallah 2013, 40.
pl. lxviii, pl. lxix; in Kairouan (Tunisia), 45 Waines 2003, 575.
Marçais 1937, 46-48. 46 Nasrallah 2007, 683, 697.
29 For the sake of simplicity, this ware is also 47 Perry 2001b, 228.
described as ppgw, and it is also known in 48 Perry 2001b, 228.
the literature as Yellow Glazed Ware; cf. 49 Heine 1988, 8-9.
Watson 1999, 81; François and Shaddoud 50 Nasrallah 2007, 509-10.
2013, 34. 51 See also Vroom 2003 for a similar custom in
30 Y. Bağcı’s personal observation based on Byzantine dining habits.
the examination of the Tarsus Gözlükule 52 Nasrallah 2007, 682.
Medieval ceramic corpus. 53 Nasrallah 2007, 215, 326, 338, 395.
31 Y. Bağcı’s personal observation. 54 Nasrallah 2007, 244, 257, 339.
32 This hypothesis is even more probable given 55 Nasrallah 2007, 259.
the recovery of Medieval glass kilns 56 Nasrallah 2007, passim.
83

57 Albala 2012, 229. Abbasid caliphs al-Nasir (1180-1225) and the

58 Ahsan 1979; Nasrallah 2007. Zangid ruler of Mosul Badr al-Din Lu’lu’
59 Nasrallah 2013, 35. (1218-1259). In this context, the dating of
60 Harīsa: cooked crushed grains (Ahsan 1979, these manuscripts, more particularly, the
131; Nasrallah 2007, 560). Maqamat copies, to the Late Abbasid period
61 Nasrallah 2007, 50. might be technically correct. However,
62 According to Ahsan (1979, 132), ‘aṣīd it is perhaps wise not follow any dynastic
corresponds to a date paste made of boiled attribution in the light of the political
and cooked dates mixed with pulp, sesame fragmentation of the Caliphate and of the
oil and walnuts. This paste was then put into ongoing and unresolved debate about the
two thin cakes. periodization of some of the manuscripts
63 Sawīq is a refreshing and nourishing drink such as the Kitab al-Diryaq.
usually made of ground toasted grains, nuts, 78 Ettinghausen and Grabar 1987, 334.
sugar, and water; cf. Nasrallah 2007, 555. 79 Ettinghausen and Grabar 1987, 375.
64 Nasrallah 2007, 573. 80 Pancaroğlu 2001, 155.
65 Perry 2001a, 220-21; Nasrallah 2007, 39-40. 81 Pancaroğlu 2001, 155.
66 Nasrallah 2007, 34 82 Ettinghausen 1972, 83.
67 Nasrallah 2007, 34, 39. 83 Pancaroğlu 2001, 156.
68 Bottero 2004, 42-44. 84 Pancaroğlu 2001, 160-61.
69 Ahsan 1979, 133. 85 Ettinghausen 1972, 84, Paris, Bibliothèque
70 Ahsan 1979, 133. Nationale de France, MS. Arabe 2964, old
71 Vroom 2009. page 22.
72 Vroom 2009, 240-41. 86 For example, see François and Shaddoud
73 Vroom 2009, 248. 2013, pl.5.2.
74 In fact, banquets constitute one of the most 87 ‘Al-Hariri’, cf. D.S. Margoliouth and Ch.
prevalent settings in which the ‘gatherings’ Pellat in Lewis et al. 1971, 221-22.
of the 11th-century Arab society took 88 ‘Al-Hariri’, cf. D.S. Margoliouth and Ch.
place. This can be observed in the episodes Pellat in Lewis et al. 1971, 221-22.
narrated in the 11th-century Arabic literary 89 Roxburgh 2013, 179; Grabar 1984, 7.
text, Maqamat. For the stories see: Les 90 Ettinghausen 1972, 81-82.
séances de Hariri (Venture de Paradis and 91 Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale de France,
Atmer 1964) passim. MS. Arabe 5847.
75 Ettinghausen and Grabar 1987, 375. 92 Ettinghausen 1972, 105; Petrosyan 1995, 144-
76 Ettinghausen 1972, 83. 55; Roxburgh 2013, 178.
77 Ettinghausen (1972, 81) stressed the 93 Petrosyan 1995, 144, Saint Petersburg, MS.
important role of Iraq in the development C-23.
of the arts of books, and among other 94 Ettinghausen 1972, 104.
individuals, some patrons such as the later 95 Roxburgh 2013, 179-180.
84

96 Ettinghausen 1972, 104. codices are easily accessible at the library’s

97 Grabar 2006, 187-89; Roxburgh 2013, 180. website (http://catalogue.bnf.fr).
98 Vroom 2009, 247; Nasrallah 2007, 612. 101 Lane 1947; Watson 2004, 12-13.
99 Petrosyan 1995, 144, Saint Petersburg, MS. 102 Vroom 2012, 350.
C-23. 103 For more information on Material
100 Although we have chosen only three Culture, Consumption and Social Change:
paintings from three different manuscripts, New Approaches to Understanding the
there are other illustrations depicting Eastern Mediterranean during Byzantine
tablewares and kitchen tools in two copies of and Ottoman Times, see: http://www.
al-Hariri’s Maqamat: in the national Library archaeology.leiden.edu/research/neareast-
of France (Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, egypt/byzantine-ottoman/about/material-
MS. Arabe 5847 and MS. Arabe 3929). These culture.html.
85

bi bl iogr a ph y
Atmer, A. (ed.) 1964. Les séances de Ḥarīrī / traduction française par Venture de Paris,
Stockholm.
Ahsan, M.M. 1979. Social Life under the Abbasids, 170-289 AH, 786-902 AD, London
& New York.
Albala, K. 2012. Cookbooks as historical documents, in: J. M. Pilcher (ed.), The Ox-
ford Handbook of Food History, Oxford, 227-40.
Adak-Adıbelli, I. 2008. Tarsus Roma hamamı 2006 yılı kazısı, in: F. Bayram and A.
Özme (eds.), 16. Müze çalışmaları ve kurtarma kazıları sempozyumu kültür ve tur-
izm bakanlığı 25-27 Nisan 2007 Marmaris, Ankara, 101-14.
Adak-Adıbelli, I. 2013. Tarsus Roma hamamı cam fırınları, in: Ç. Gençler Güray (ed.),
Kaunos/Kbid Toplantıları 2: Anadolu Antik Cam Araştırmaları Sempozyumu,
Ankara, 93-102.
Bonner, M.D. 1996. Aristocratic Violence and Holy War: Studies in the Jihad and the
Arab-Byzantine Frontier, New Haven, Conn.
Bosworth, C.E. 1992. The city of Tarsus and the Arab-Byzantine frontiers in Early and
Middle ‘Abbāsid Times, Oriens 33, 268-86.
Bottéro, J. 2004. The Oldest Cuisine in the World: Cooking in Mesopotamia, London
& Chicago.
Caiger-Smith, A. 1973. Tin-glaze Pottery in Europe and the Islamic World: The Tradi-
tion of 1000 Years in Maiolica, Faience & Delftware, London.
Day, E. F. 1941. The Islamic finds at Tarsus, Asia (March), 143-46.
Durak, K. 2008. Commerce and Networks of Exchange between the Byzantine Em-
pire and the Islamic Near East from the Early Ninth Century to the Arrival of the
Crusaders, unpublished doctoral dissertation, Department of History and Center
for Middle Eastern Studies, Harvard University, 2008.
Ettinghausen, R. 1972. Arab Painting (Treasures of Asia), Geneva.
Ettinghausen, R. and O, Grabar 1987. The Art and Architecture of Islam 650-1250, Mid-
dlesex & New York.
Evrin Toskay, Ç. 2002. Tarsus Republic Square Late Roman Cooking Wares – 2001,
unpublished master thesis, Bilkent University, 2002.
François, V. and I. Shaddoud 2013. Nouvel atelier de potier d’époque Abbasside au sud
de Tell Abou Ali à Raqqa, Al-Rafidan 34, 21-81.
Foss, C.F.W. 1991a. Tarsos, in: A.P. Kazhdan (ed.), The Oxford Dictionary of Byzan-
tium, Oxford Reference 2005. doi: 10.1093/acref/9780195046526.001.0001
Goldman, H. 1950. Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus i: The Hellenistic and Roman
Periods, Princeton.
86

Goldman, H. 1956. Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus ii: From the Neolithic Through
the Bronze Age, Princeton.
Goldman, H. 1963. Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus iii: The Iron Age, Princeton.
Grabar, O. 1984. The Illustrations of the Maqamat, Chicago.
Grabar, O. 1988. Between connoisseurship and technology: A review, Muqarnas 5, 1-8.
Grabar, O. 2006. Pictures or commentaries: The illustrations of the Maqamat of
al-Hariri, in: Islamic Visual Culture, 1100-1800, Constructing the Study of Islamic
Art, Vol. ii, Variorum collected studies series, Aldershot & Burlington, 187-206
[= First published in: P.J. Chelkowski 1974 (ed.), Studies in Art and Literature of
the Near East in Honor of Richard Ettinghausen, Salt Lake City, 85-104].
Guesdon, M.G. and A. Vernay-Nouri 2001. L’ art du livre Arabe. Du manuscript au
livre d’ artiste, Paris.
Haldon, J.F. and H. Kennedy 1980. The Arab-Byzantine frontier in the eighth
and ninth centuries: Military organization and society on the borderlands, in:
M. Bonner (ed.), Arab-Byzantine Relations in Early Islamic Times, Aldershot, 79-
116.
Heine, P. 1988. Kulinarische Studien: Untersuchungen zur Kochkunst im arabisch-isla-
mischen Mittelalter, Mit Rezepten, Wiesbaden.
Horden, P. and N. Purcell 2000. The Corrupting Sea: A Study of Mediterranean His-
tory, Oxford.
Lane, A. 1947. Early Islamic Pottery: Mesopotamia, Egypt and Persia, London.
Margoliouth, D.S. and Ch. Pellat 20122. Al Hariri, in: P. Bearman, Th. Bianquis, C.E.
Bosworth, E. van Donzel and W.P. Heinrichs (eds.), Encyclopaedia of Islam, Second
Edition, Brill (online ed.; print ed. Leiden, 1960-2007).
Magness, J. 2010. Early Islamic pottery: A revolution in diet and dining habits?, in: P.
Matthiae et al. (ed.), Proceedings of the 6th International Congress on the Archaeology
of the Ancient Near East, 5 May–10 May 2009, Vol. 3, Rome, 129-42.
Marçais, G. 1937. Tunis et Kairouan, Paris.
Mason, R. 1997. Early Mediaeval Iraqi Lustre-Painted and associated wares: Typology
in a multidisciplinary study, Iraq 59, 15-61.
McCormick, M. 2001. Origins of the European Economy: Communications and Com-
merce A.D. 300-900, Cambridge & New York.
Nasrallah, N. 2007. Annals of the Caliphs’ Kitchens, Leiden.
Nasrallah, N. 20132. Delights from the Garden of Eden: A Cookbook and History of the
Iraqi Cuisine, Sheffield (2nd and revised ed.; 1rst ed. by the author, 2003).
Northedge, A. and D. Kennet 1994. The Samarra horizon, in: E. Grube and M. Bayan
(eds.), Cobalt and Lustre: The First Centuries of Islamic Pottery, London, 21-35.
Öhrnberg, K. and S. Mroueh S. (eds.) 1987. Kitab al-Tabikh, Helsinki.
87

Özyar, A. (ed.) 2005. Field Seasons 2001-2003 of the Tarsus-Gözlükule, Interdisciplinary

Research Project, Istanbul.
Pancaroğlu, O. 2001. Socializing medicine: Illustrations of the Kitāb al-diryāq, Mu-
qarnas 18, 155-72.
Pancaroğlu, O. 2007. Perpetual Glory: Medieval Islamic Ceramics from the Harvey B.
Plotnick Collection, New Haven & London.
Perry, C. 2001a. What to order in ninth-century Baghdad, in: M. Rodinson, A.J.
Arberry and C. Perry (eds.), Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and Translations (with
a foreword by Claudia Roden), Blackawton & Totnes, 217-24.
Perry, C. 2001b. Elements of Arab feasting, in: M. Rodinson, A.J. Arberry and C.
Perry (eds.), Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and Translations (with a foreword by
Claudia Roden), Blackawton & Totnes, 225-32.
Petrosyan, A.Y. 1995. Pages of Perfection, Islamic Paintings and Calligraphy from the
Russian Academy of Sciences, St. Petersburg (Exhibition Catalogue), Milan.
Power, T. 2012. The Red Sea from Byzantium to the Caliphate: ad 500-1000, Cairo.
Priestman, M.N.S. 2011. Opaque glazed wares: A review of the definition, dating and
distribution of a key Iraqi ceramic export in the Abbasid period, Iran 49, 89-114.
Rodinson, M. 2001. Studies in Arabic manuscripts relating to cookery, in: M. Rodin-
son, A.J. Arberry and C. Perry (eds.), Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and Trans-
lations (with a foreword by Claudia Roden), Blackawton & Totnes, 91-164.
Rosen-Ayalon, M. 1974. La poterie islamique: ville royale de Suse, vol. iv, Paris.
Rousset, M.O. (ed.) 2012. Al-Hadir. Étude archaéologique d’un Hameau de Qinnasrin
(Syrie du Nord vii-xii siѐcles), Lyon.
Roxburgh, D.J. 2013. In pursuit of shadows: al Hariri’s Maqamat, Muqarnas 30, 171-212.
Saba, D.M. 2012. Abbasid Lusterware and the aesthetic of the ‘ajab, Muqarnas 29,
187-212.
Sarre, F. 1925. Forschungen zur islamischen Kunst, ii: Die Ausgrabungen von Samarra.
Die Keramik von Samarra, Berlin.
Sinclair, T.A. 1987-1990. Eastern Turkey: An Architectural and Archeological Survey,
Vols. i-iv, London.
Stargardt, J. 2014. Indian Ocean trade in the ninth and tenth centuries: Demand,
distance, and profit, South Asian Studies 30.1, 35-55.
Vokaer, A. 2011. La Brittle Ware en Syrie: Production et diffusion d’une céramique
culinaire de l’époque hellénistique à l’époque omayyade, Coll. Mémoires de la Classe
des Lettres iii, Fouilles d’Apamée de Syrie 2, Brussels.
Vroom, J. 2003. After Antiquity. Ceramics and Society in the Aegean from the 7th to
the 20th centuries A.C. A Case Study from Boeotia, Central Greece, Archaeological
Studies Leiden University 10, Leiden.
88

Vroom, J. 2009. Medieval ceramics and the archaeology of consumption in Eastern

Anatolia, in: J. Roodenberg and T. Vorderstrasse (eds.), Archaeology of the Coun-
tryside in Medieval Anatolia, pihans 113, Leiden, 235-58.
Vroom, J. 2012. Tea and ceramics: New perspectives on Byzantine pottery from Limy-
ra, in: M. Seyer (ed.), 40 Jahre Grabung Limyra. Akten des Symposions, Wien, 3-5
Dezember 2009, Vienna, 341-55.
Waagé, F.O. 1948. Antioch-on-the Orontes, vol. iv, Part i: Ceramics and Islamic Coins,
Princeton.
Waines, D. 2003. Luxury foods in Medieval Islamic societies, World Archaeology 34,
571-80.
Watson, O. 1999. Report on glazed ceramics, in: A.P. Miglus (ed.), Die frühislamische
Keramik von Tall Aswad, Mainz, 81-88.
Watson, O. 2004. Ceramics from Islamic Lands. In Association with the Al-Sabah Col-
lection Dar al-Athar al-Islamiyyah, Kuwait National Museum, London.
Wickham, C. 2005. Framing the Early Middle Ages: Europe and the Mediterranean
400-800, Oxford & New York.
89

figs. 1a-b – Lustreware examples from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus: shapes of bowl and
plate (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
90

figs. 1c-d – Lustreware examples from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus: rim shapes (Y. Bağcı,
J. Vroom).
91

fig. 1e – Fabric of Lustreware from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 2c – Fabric of Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus
(Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
92

figs. 2a-b – Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware examples from the Gözlükule Mound excavations,
Tarsus: shapes of bowl and plate (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
93

vol. = 1.9299 l. vol. = 1.9428 l.
vol. = 0.8115 l. vol. = 0.9435 l.
fig. 3 – Vessel volume comparison between bowls and plates of Lustreware and Polychrome Painted
Glazed Ware (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
figs. 4a-b – See colour plates page 372.
94

* * *
Approaching Medieval cuisine:

Employing zooarchaeological methods
on Anatolian faunal assemblages
Lubna Omar
i n t roduct ion
The eastern Mediterranean was a platform of crucial political and social transforma-
tions throughout the Medieval period. For instance, the south-eastern stretch of Tur-
key formed the borderline between the Roman/Byzantine and the Arab territories.
For centuries, this area witnessed a consistent political tension reflected by continuous
military clashes between the two major powers at the time (the Byzantine and Islamic
Empires). The significance of the region is not only derived from the political situa-
tion as a border, but also as a strategic position connecting the shorelines and ports
across the Taurus Mountains into central Anatolia. As such, it not only facilitated
military campaigns but also trade routes. Furthermore, the fertile soil and availability
of water resources played an essential role in the flourishing of agriculture and the
exchange of products.
The main scope of historical studies of this particular period and region has until
now always been mainly to investigate and document the political and military con-
quests. Hence, aspects concerning the social and economic life of the border towns are
not that thoroughly comprehended. The location and the blend of different ethnicities
and cultural streams, passing through this contested area, however, unquestionably
influenced the development of the region on a cultural level. Still, military movements
had a more conspicuous role in shaping the daily existence of communities living in
the Anatolian borderline, as they have in the traditional histories of the major political
powers (the Byzantine and Islamic Empires) that aimed to take control and expand
their territories on each side of the frontier.

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113479

The Medieval period represents only one of the phases of ancient civilisations that
passed through in the eastern Mediterranean region. Most of the cities that flourished
during the Roman/Byzantine and Arab expansion stage, were established centuries
ahead of time and had served as strategic military points since the Hellenistic period
and later during the Byzantine period.1 However, the Umayyad rebuilt and fortified
most of these cities along the Taurus range and called the area (al-Thughur), meaning
a path surrounded by mountains. Some of its well-known centres on the Umayyad
Caliphate side are Antakya, the biggest centre in the region, Ain Zarbe, Sisa, Beyas,
Adana and Tarsus. After the Abbasids wrested from the Umayyad the leadership of
the Muslim world around 750 ce, the responsibility to fund and protect the Thughur
fell into the hands of the new Abbasid caliphates. The latter took considerable inter-
est in protecting their northern borders from Byzantine attacks, especially the cities
located on the front lines such as Tarsus, Antakya and Malaya.2
Several historical resources discussed the funding of military fortifications, which
also included resettling different groups such as craftsmen, merchants and farmers,
in addition to soldiers. Therefore, Thughur cities were able to sustain, and could even
flourish from, trade and agriculture produce.3 While, the social matrix of the commu-
nities inhabiting the Thughur region provided additional resources from non-Muslim
tributes, the donations from the rich caliphates’ families came from all sides of the
Islamic world to support the soldiers protecting the land.4
This area is significant due its location and the political scene during the Early
Islamic period (ca. 8th-10th centuries). Consequently, aiming to reconstruct the so-
cio-economic development of this region would provide us with a great opportunity
to evaluate the changes and developments of a mosaic of communities and circum-
stances, that shaped the culture of the area and left its historical imprint on Anatolian
settlements during this crucial period.
The challenge, in investigating the dynamics of social life in the Medieval times
at this very inimitable, cultural and geographical area, is shared between collecting
materials and data with the limited number of archaeological expeditions researching
Medieval levels, and the emphasis on tracking the historical events and military activ-
ities from the remains of written records.
The study of faunal materials utilising zooarchaeological methods offers a prospect
to evaluate animal resources exploitation in archaeological settlements and assists in
reconstructing the socio-economic development of the ancient societies. In the case of
Medieval communities, by assessing the social status of the group inhabiting the set-
tlement, it could provide evidence to make strong interpretations related to the type
of the socio-economic relationships prevailing during that period. Food choices could
reflect the social, hierarchical differences within certain communities.5
96

om a r – a pproac h i ng m e di e va l c u i s i n e
The position of south-western Anatolia, during the Early Medieval / Early islamic
period, is considered to be an ambiguous phase in the history of the region. Hence,
including evidence regarding the utilisation of animal resources is essential, to depict
a general framework of the developments and changes within this period. This oppor-
tunity was provided by the archaeological project at Tarsus-Gözlükule’s site, which is
located south-central Turkey (Fig.1). The cultural material from this site is a valuable
source of knowledge for our research questions; it requires an introduction in terms
of its historical and archaeological background.
h istor ic a l backgrou n d a n d a rch a eologic a l ev i de nce
Tarsus is situated in the southern part of central Turkey, 20 km inland from the Med-
iterranean Sea. With a history spanning over 9000 years, Tarsus has long been an
important commercial centre and a focal point for many civilisations.
The history of the area stretches back to the Neolithic period, all the way through
to the Islamic / Medieval period. It was inhabited during the Late Bronze Age. Dur-
ing the Roman Empire, Tarsus was the capital of the Roman Province of Cilicia; it
gained its fame as the meeting point between Cleopatra and Mark Antony, and was
also an important intellectual centre. Tarsus transitioned through the Early Christian
ages and was the birthplace of Saul/Saint Paul, the Apostle.6
Tarsus was located at the eastern border of the Byzantine Empire, and flourished
as a trade and military centre due to its strategic location near the Cilician Gates; the
latter was the main pass through the Taurus Mountains of southern Turkey, connect-
ing the Anatolian plateau and the Mediterranean coast.
The city fell under the control of the Umayyad in 637 and later became part of the
Abbasid territories in the 8th century. It then transformed into one of the main centres
of the western Thughur, the Islamic-Byzantine frontier, serving both military and com-
mercial purposes.7 Historical records indicate that Tarsus frequently changed hands
among Byzantines, Armenians, Crusaders, Mamluks, Ramazanids and finally Otto-
mans, and was used for naval operations by Byzantine, Islamic and Crusader armies.8
The first excavations on the mound of Gözlükule, situated in the south-western part
of the city, were undertaken by an American team led by professor Hetty Goldman of
Bryn Mawr College (Pennsylvania, usa).9 Supported by the Archaeological Institute
of America and the Harvard Fogg Museum, the project was carried out from 1935 until
1939 and, later, between 1947 and 1948. Almost 50 years later, new excavations started
again in September 2001, with the collaboration of Bryn Mawr College and Bosporus
University (Istanbul, Turkey), under the direction of Dr. Aslı Özyar. The excavations
revealed that the mound was occupied from Neolithic to Ottoman times.10
97

t h e fau na l a sse m bl age
The studied assemblage of animal remains was gathered from all the chronological
levels, which were identified during the recent archaeological excavations on the Göz-
lüküle Mound. The faunal materials were collected from all the trenches at the site
(B797, C706, C707, C716 and C717) from the following excavation seasons (2008,
2009, 2010 and 2012). The majority of the faunal remains belonged to the Islamic level,
followed by the remains of the Late Bronze period, while the smallest representation
of faunal remains came from the Late Antique level. The context of the faunal materi-
als varied between pits, floors and open-areas.
The implemented excavations and recovery techniques were directed to routinely
hand-pick animal remains during the course of the excavations. Some wet sieving sam-
ples were produced for archaeobotanical studies, and the examination of the faunal
remains from these samples suggests a minor bias in the representation of small-sized
species (such as fish and birds). Hence, the representation of medium/large sized an-
imals is more than 92.3% in numbers compared to the fragments from flotation (ap-
prox. 450 fragments)
r a nge of i de n t i f i e d ta x a
The range of identified species from Tarsus-Gözlükule is displayed in Table 1. The

results of the zooarchaeological classification of the materials are organised according
the nisp (number of identified specimens) and wisp (weight of the identified speci-
mens). These are also presented in Table 1. The total number of fragments registered in
this study is 14,597 fragments, with an approximate weight of 67,584.5 g. The remains
were identified to species, family or genera levels, while the fragments that could not
be assigned to any of these levels were regrouped according to size of animal: large,
medium and small mammals.
Domestic animals are dominant throughout the identified occupation periods of
the settlement and make up approximately 87% of the number of identified bones. The
range of animal taxa differs in each chronological context, reflecting the existence of
different settlement patterns at Gözlükule. The most represented animal species in the
Medieval settlement were sheep, goat and cattle; meanwhile, the Late Antique level
introduced more fragments belonging to wild boars/pigs and small animal remains,
such as birds, fish and tortoise. The Late Bronze Age level (ca. 1425-1200 bce) contained
more wild taxa and deer remains were common in the assemblage of this period.
Figure 2 displays the ratios of animal bones frequencies at each chronological level
at Tarsus-Gözlükule. The faunal assemblage that belongs to the Early Medieval / Ear-
98

ly Islamic settlement is characterised by the dominance of domestic animals (primar-

ily sheep and goat), followed by cattle and a few fragments of the equidae family which
were also present. Sheep/goat fragments constituted 70.3% in numbers and 51.3% in
weight. The ratio of sheep to goat, displays a change in the pattern of exploitation of
these animals in terms of primary and secondary products. While the proportion of
goats was close to sheep’s, during the Late Bronze Age and Late Antique periods (1:1
in LA, and 1:1.4 in LBA), there was a considerable increase in the number of goats in
the Medieval / Islamic levels (1:2.5). In addition, cattle faunal remains reflect the im-
portance of their products during the Medieval / Islamic period in comparison to the
previous periods. The proportion of cattle remains consisted of 8.7% nisp and about
39.6% of the total weight. Pigs’ bones accounted for less than 1% of the total number
and weight of the faunal assemblage. It seems that pigs are more common in contexts
other than the Medieval / Islamic level. Interpretations regarding the existence of wild
boars or domestic pig remains within an Islamic settlement, should take into consid-
eration the location of Tarsus town during the early Abbasid period; location plays a
significant role in the formation of the social structure of the settlement.
Tarsus is considered as one of the Thughur cities on the northern line that defines
the border of Byzantine and Islamic territories. According to several written records,
diverse social structure was established in the Thughur region due to a number of fac-
tors. Military deployment was the most documented movement of large communities.
Other factors, like trade, engineering and construction projects, had their part in the
relocation of different ethnic groups and specialists to live in the Thughur area. Not
to forget that the area is quite valuable to Christianity, which was reflected by the di-
versity in the religious and ethnic matrix of Thughur’s inhabitants. The combination
of the previously mentioned factors, suggests that pigs were solely consumed by the
Christian groups in the city, or that pigs were generally not preferred as a source of
meat in this region; another possibility is the need to protect agricultural crops from
wild boars. The importance of agricultural activities in the Thughur region is well
attested in historical records.11 Chicken is another domestic taxon which was notably
present in the faunal collection with a nisp of 6%. In spite of the smaller ratio of bird
fragments in general, this domestic fowl still had a significant role in the cuisine of
Medieval / Islamic times. Several historians mentioned chicken as a favourite dish for
the Abbasid court members.12 Also, raising chickens became a stable source of income
for farmers and lower class families as a result of the market demands for this stable
meat resource.
Fish remains have the potential to demonstrate food habits of inland Medieval
areas, and provide a glimpse on the trade routes and social status. Although it formed
99

a minor proportion of the faunal assemblage, we have to take into consideration the
significant role of the recovery method of faunal remains, in the of smaller proportion
of the total number and weight of fish fragments. The identification of fish bones took
place at Brussels in the Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Sciences. Within the fish
sample, 8 taxa were identified. The majority of the fish are riverine, including the abun-
dant catfish remains as well as the barbel and the tilapia. The latter fish species did not
exist in the area,13 and must have been brought in from elsewhere (the Syro-Palestinian
area, or Egypt).14 Marine fish are less common and it appears that several of them may
have come from an estuary (gilt-headed seabream, seabass and mullet).
body pa rts dist r i bu t ion
The pattern of the skeletal elements distribution within archaeological contexts re-
flects how animals were exploited at the site.15 According to the faunal evidence dis-
cussed in the previous section, sheep and goats are the most abundant animal species
based on the number and weight of faunal remains allocated in the Medieval / Islamic
level. The distribution of sheep/goat remains suggests that these animals were primari-
ly slaughtered within the settlement for the purpose of meat production. As shown in
Figure 3, the quite substantial representation of high meat ratio elements, about 20%
for both upper fore and hind limbs, indicates butchering activities. While skull and
vertebrate remains were the least encountered at the site, the uneven representation of
elements indicates that specific parts of the animal were consumed by the inhabitants
and this pattern of exploitation suggests the presence of a high-social status groep in
the settlement.16
When we look at the skeletal distribution of other animal species at the site, we can
easily distinguish a different pattern of faunal remains scattered within the layers of
the Medieval settlement. Figure 4 displays the frequencies of cattle skeletal remains
from the Medieval / Islamic level at Tarsus-Gözlükule. The higher representation of
elements (22%) belong to the lower feet. The identified faunal remains do not provide
a direct interpretation of the specific nature of exploitation. However, it indicates that
sheep/goats were utilised in a different way to cattle, which is an expected result since
cattle provide a different set of products, including hide and traction power.
age prof i l es
Evaluating the age profiles of sheep/goats at the site would assist us in formulating con-
clusions regarding the pattern of animal exploitation during the Medieval period in
Anatolia. The analysis of fusion data was carried out using the categories proposed by
100

O’Connor (1989) using Silver’s data (1969).17 Most of the identified long bones, which
potentially provide aging information, could not be separated to species level. There-
fore, sheep and goat remains were regrouped in one category. Figure 5 demonstrates
the results of reconstructing the age profiles of sheep/goats at Tarsus-Gözlükule from
three different chronological levels (Late Bronze Age; Late Antique; Early Medieval).
It seems that the pattern of slaughter during the Medieval period is, to a degree, com-
parable with the Late Bronze Age pattern.
The majority of sheep/goats from the Medieval level (about 80%) survived un-
til eighteen months of age. While a significant drop in survival is observed after 24
months of age, the sheep/goat survival ranged to between 18 to 24 months; this im-
plies that sheep and goats where slaughtered to cultivate their primary products in the
first place, whereas a smaller number of older animals were kept to provide secondary
products. Interestingly, the age profile of Late Bronze Age sheep/goats falls to between
similar ranges; 70% survived until 18 months, while a slightly higher number of sheep/
goats lived beyond 36 months, in comparison to the Medieval pattern. The sample
from the Late Antique period clearly displays a different range of age selection. A high-
er number of animals did not survive until 18 months of age. Only 60% entered the 18
months category, suggesting that animals were slaughtered, in most cases, before they
reached their optimal meat weight. It has been noted previously that the pattern of
sheep and goat exploitation at the Tarsus-Gözlükule site seems to be distinctively dif-
ferent in the Late Antique period. Hence, the frequencies of sheep and goats decreased
while pigs were higher in number. Consequently, this would have had its impact on
age ranges.
The reconstruction of age profiles utilising long bones cannot extend beyond the
framework of epiphyseal fusion ages. Therefore, the teeth eruption and wear stages pro-
vide a supportive line of evidence that would assist us in estimating the age of death of
sheep and goats during the Medieval period. Wear stages were recorded for the P4, dP4
and the molars, both isolated and in mandibles, following Payne (1973, 1987).18 Man-
dibles with at least two teeth in the dP4/P4-M3 row were assigned to mandibular wear
stages according to Payne.
The results of assessing eruption/wear stages of sheep/goats’ mandibles are displayed
in Figure 6. The mandibles were quantified using mni counts after they were identified
to species level. The wear stages clearly suggest that some of the sheep and goats survived
beyond the optimal meat age. Possibly these animals were utilised to provide secondary
products, such as dairy, wool and hair. On the other hand, the data also clearly show
that some of the goat and sheep did not survive beyond a few months of age. This could
be considered as a preference towards lean cuts of meat and a strong indication to high
society demands.19
101

cu t m a r k s
The chop and cut marks on skeletal remains have the potential to assist us in evalu-
ating the butchering patterns of the exploited animals, and the purpose behind the
slaughtering. Several traces of butchering were observed on the sheep/goat faunal re-
mains on different skeletal elements as displayed in Figure 7. This correlates to a high
frequency of sheep/goat remains within the faunal collection. In addition, the high
ratio of cut marks on the bones of these species also emphasises the preference for the
exploitation of sheep and goats in Gözlükule during the early Medieval period. The
majority of the cut marks were observed around articulation joints, vertebrates and
ribs. This model of butchering resembles dismemberment pattern.20 As a result, it rep-
resents more of meat units rather than skeletal units, suggesting that portions of meat
were distributed within the households of the settlement.21 The cut marks present on
the first cervical vertebrates could be connected to religious Islamic practices when
it comes to slaughtering animals; the Islamic rules of slaughter dictate a swift, deep
incision with a very sharp knife on the throat, cutting the wind pipe, jugular veins and
carotid arteries of both sides. The head is removed after draining the blood. However,
we should note that during the Medieval period, not only meat-bearing elements were
consumed for their nutrition, but also the viscera, head and feet.
i n t r a-m e di eva l set t l e m e n ts com pa r at i v e a na lysis
In order to achieve a comprehensive understanding of the patterns of diet, when it

comes to meat resources in the Medieval period, it is necessary to examine animal ex-
ploitation patterns in other Medieval faunal assemblages within a wider geographical
range, with close cultural ties to Anatolia.
Unfortunately, the number of studies that focussed on this period are quite lim-
ited. In addition, the contributions of faunal analyses to the general interpretations
of material culture are also challenged by several influencing factors including: ex-
cavation goals, recovery methods and taphonomy. In spite of these difficulties, a few
studies have been conducted on faunal assemblages that belong to different stages of
the Medieval period. Figure 8 summarises the results of these studies. As displayed in
the charts, similar animal resources were utilised in the mentioned sites. Few species
were present in one site and not in the others, such as camel remains, which were only
found at Kaman-Kalehöyük in central Turkey.22 Sheep and goats were clearly found to
be the most consumed species. This scenario fits the adaptivity of these animal species
to the dry-highland environment, which facilitated the dependency on these animals
to acquire meat, dairy and wool.
102

However, despite the widespread consumption model of sheep/goats in the life of

eastern Mediterranean communities, other animal species still played an essential role
in the exploitation pattern, such as cattle and pigs, which were frequently exploited in
all mentioned sites. It is therefore worth noting that pigs and cattle ratios were higher
at Gritille in eastern Turkey compared to other sites included in the study. This site
was inhabited by a Christian community which assisted us in explaining the change
in the animal exploitation pattern and the role of cultural and religious influences in
imposing restrictions on the dietary preferences.23Overall, Gözlükule demonstrates a
pattern of animal exploitation that is similar to other Medieval sites, in particular, Tell
Tuneinir and Ziyaret Tepe in south-eastern Turkey,24 even though they are geographi-
cally further compared to Gritille, which is closer to Gözlükule (Fig. 1).
It seems that within the sites included in this study, animal exploitation patterns
in Islamic settlements have more in common than Christian towns. Gritille’s model
clearly supports this interpretation. Interestingly, the animal exploitation pattern in
Kaman-kale, which belongs to a later period close to the end of the Medieval period,
had common features with both models. Sheep and goat exploitation was frequently
higher, similar to other centres adopting Islamic beliefs. While cattle, and even pigs,
were also high in frequencies (cattle 38.6%; pigs/wild boar 8.2%; as displayed in Fig. 8).
This trend is similar to what was observed in the Christian settlement in Gritille.
discussion
The reconstruction of the cultural and social features of ancient communities in

depth, requires investigation into multiple lines of archaeological and anthropological
evidence. Zooarchaeological research should follow the same approach with integrat-
ing all types of available archaeological data.25 Considering early Medieval towns in
Anatolia, the archaeological evidence produced substantial interpretations regarding
the type and function of settlements, utilising the material culture and architectural
structures to evaluate the socio-economic background and the cultural entities of its
communities.
Nevertheless, the information obtained through archaeological research can be
enhanced by integrating the historical evidence providing the in-depth perspective
that is necessary to evaluate the changing dynamics of Medieval societies. The analysis
of faunal remains collected from Medieval contexts contributes to the assessment of
animal resources and their role in the development of Medieval cities. The extent of
interpretations concluded from zooarchaeological studies is correlated with recovery
methods, excavations techniques and the ability to associate the faunal remains with
specific features or contexts. Faunal investigation is quite successful in providing a
103

comprehensive range of results, such as in demonstrating the proportions of animal

species and in the reconstruction of age and sex profiles of species present on the site.
However, illustrating cooking and dietary habits of ancient societies depends on
the ability to excavate specific contexts particularly market areas, refuse pits, butcher
grounds etc. Unfortunately, at Tarsus-Gözlükule, the faunal concentrations were not
directly connected to domestic or public cooking activities. The use of historical re-
cords from the period offers a remarkable opportunity to support the results obtained
from a zooarchaeological investigation. The Abbasid period is known for its rich de-
tailed literature that, not only captured various aspects of everyday life in this period
of time, but also extended to become the foundation of several disciplines. Luckily,
several cooking books were written during this period and a few of these precious
manuscripts survived through the centuries.
book title in arabic book title author

al-Kasbaj Meat stew book Jahzah
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Ibrahim bin Abbas al-souli
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Ahmed bin al-tabib
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Hares bin Baskhar
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Ibn Maswiyeh
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Ali Bin Yahya al-Munajim
al-Tabiekh Cooking book Ahmed bin al-Tayeb
Atemet al-Mardah Sick people’s food book Al-Razi
table 2 – List of cookery books of the Abbasid period (L. Omar).
Table 2 displays the main books from that era and their authors, which have been men-
tioned in another historical book from the Abbasid period ‘Al-Fihrist’ (The index)
written by Abu’l-Faraj Muhammad bin Is’hāq al-Nadim in the 10th century.26 The
uniqueness of such sources stems from the fact that these books delivered rich details
of the socio-economic pattern of urban centres, located in the eastern Mediterranean
region; This includes a list of foods, written by Ibn Sayyar, consumed by rich and poor
people.27 Some poets and authors depicted the lavish banquets at the palaces. Others de-
scribed the daily life and the activities at the market place, where meat resources were fre-
quently mentioned, illustrating the variety of animals exploited for their meat. According
to these records, in the Early Medieval / Early Islamic period, the Abbasids favoured
mutton, goat, beef and poultry for their meat dishes. In addition to domestic animals,
the high society sought after exotic types of foods including fish, wild birds and game.28
Meat was consumed boiled, grilled or dried. The meat-dish recipes did not men-
tion a specific portion of the body; nonetheless, a few of the cooking directions includ-
104

ed adding fatty portions of meat and sometimes would refer to using lean sliced meat.
No mention of bones is found either.29 On the other side of the border we witness a
different style of cuisine in the eastern Mediterranean represented by the Byzantine
cuisine. Their diet was also influenced by religious practices.30 Therefore, similar food
resources produced different dishes, providing us with strong evidence of cultural
variations in this region. When it comes to the consumption of meat, the Byzantines
raised pigs, sheep and goats. Meat was consumed more in cities and towns rather than
the countryside.31 Cattle was mainly used as a nutrition source. There are some his-
torical accounts on the use of gazelles and donkeys for nutrition. In addition, fish and
other seafoods were also consumed.32
conclusion
The fundamental characteristic of this unique period of history, in terms of animal ex-
ploitation patterns, is the strong correlation between the diversity of exploited animals
and the cultural components. The results of the faunal analysis from Gözlükule, the
focus of this study, combined with the results of the intra-sites comparative analysis,
illustrate the complex cultural tapestry in this region and how it left its distinctive
impact on various aspects of daily life in this Early Medieval town.
In Tarsus-Gözlükule, the high frequencies of sheep/goat skeletal remains within
the Medieval level implies that sheep and goats provided the main bulk of meat for
the settlement. The skeletal elements that were separated to species level indicate that
sheep were higher in numbers than goats. The age curve of the sheep and goats at Gö-
zlükule suggest parallel interpretations with the high ratio of animals surviving until
the end of the optimal meat age, which falls between one year and half to two years of
age. The available age data indicated that some of these animals survived beyond the
optimal meat age and were present at the settlement for reasons other than meat pro-
duction. On the other hand, wear stages of teeth demonstrated the presence of both
very young and older individuals. It is not feasible to evaluate the number of individ-
uals involved in each production line at the site, or to address the scale of production
solely depending on age profile interpretations.
The cut mark traces on sheep and goat skeletal elements suggest the possibility of
a certain butchering pattern that fits a meat-oriented model. Another line of evidence
was produced by the distribution of skeletal elements within the various contexts of
the Medieval settlement. It seems that cattle and sheep/goat elements were distributed
in different patterns, postulating that they were utilised to provide a different set of
products. The skeletal elements of sheep/goats are more indicative of butchering for
high-valued meat portions in comparison to cattle elements.
105

In conclusion, incorporating the various interpretations of the zooarchaeological

study of the Medieval assemblage assists us in reflecting on the dynamics of such com-
plex historical societies. It seems that the inhabitants of Tarsus-Gözlükule might have
been highly ranked within the Abbasid society; they desired to obtain specific food
resources matching their wealth and status.33 The other speculation is related to the
geographical, and political, importance of this region, hence, it was receiving substan-
tial taxes and donations to defend this sensitive location.34 This might have affected
the obvious wealth reflected in the patterns of animal exploitation.
In the case of Gözlükule, zooarchaeological research provided an insight, not only
in the daily life of the inhabitants of the settlement, but also into the trade and ex-
change network, which extended to a wider geographical range. The recovery of the
fish vertebrate which belongs to the Tilapia family, suggests that this African native
species reached Anatolian highlands using the trade routes that famously supported
the sensitive Thughur region. This, in turn, confirms the results of on-going archaeo-
logical research that identifies the settlement as a commercial centre.
The historical records from the early Medieval / Early Islamic period provided
an essential line of evidence in our interpretations of Abbasids in Anatolia. The ex-
traordinarily detailed written records from that period not only depicted the cooking
habits, but also provide information about the social segregation of food resources and
how some dishes were exclusive to the elite, especially fish.35 This led us to suggest that
recovering tilapia, from within the faunal assemblage of Gözlükule, is another strong
indication of the presence of an elite group at the Thughur. This high-status group was
acquiring products that may have been exchanged through trade routes that extended
between different continents. The presence of catfish remains has been previously de-
tected in the site of Sagalassos, in south-western Turkey (Fig. 1).36
This trend in obtaining exotic animals for the wealthy has been witnessed in other
areas of Anatolia, particularly with fish species that had been cured in different parts
of the Middle East since ancient times.37 Written records of historians, poets and even
travellers from that era confirm this prodigality within the palaces, particularly where
some dishes, like fish tongues, were a common delicacy.38
The detailed recipes of the famous cooking books from this era, illustrated the im-
portance of meat in the diet. The preference of including meat in most cooked meals
was not only exclusive to the rich; it seems that various social-strata of Abbasid society
favoured meat. It was a common practice of Medieval markets and merchants to pro-
vide a variety of grilled and cooked meat dishes.39
Integrating archaeological and historical evidence is an essential approach in any
effort to comprehend the complexity of this time period. During the Middle Ages, as
in all eras throughout history, eastern Mediterranean was divided among conflicting
106

political powers, which influenced the communities that they governed in so many
varying aspects. Therefore, attempting to reconstruct the daily activities, and the
broader socio-economic interaction network, would contribute to the assessment of
the changes that took place during the Medieval period in Anatolia.
*
ack now l e dge m e n ts
First of all, I would like to thank Dr. Wim van Neer of the Royal Belgian Institute
of Natural Sciences, Department of Palaeontology, in Brussels for the identification
of the fish bones and for his comments on the paragraphs dealing with this animal
group. Furthermore, I wish to extend special thanks to Dr. Aslı Özyar, the director of
the Tarsus-Gözlükule Excavation Project, for her generosity and continuing help on
and off the site, and for permitting me to study the faunal material. Finally, I would
also like to thank Dr. Hitomi Hongo for her help in making this project possible.
107

late bronze age late antique early medieval (abbasids)
species wisp % nisp % wisp % nisp % wisp % nisp %
Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 108

Horse (Equus caballus) 22 0.1 1 0.0
Donkey (Equus asinus) 25 0.4 1 0.2 151.9 0.6 5 0.2
Equid (Equus sp.) 602.6 2.2 16 0.6
Cattle (Bos taurus) 3036.7 47.5 96 16.6 467.3 28.7 9 3.64 10853.7 39.6 234 8.7
Sheep/goat (Ovis/ Capra) 2254.6 35.3 343 59.1 546.2 33.6 104 42.11 7178.6 26.2 1222 45.2
Sheep (Ovis aries) 492.1 7.7 50 8.6 146 9.0 20 8.10 4848.2 17.7 492 18.2
Goat (Capra hircus) 414.8 6.5 35 6.0 204.3 12.6 21 8.50 2038.2 7.4 191 7.1
Pig (Sus domesticus) 70 1.1 7 1.2 178.8 11.0 28 11.34 841.6 3.1 80 3.0
Dog (Canis familiaris) 25 1.5 6 2.43 186.1 0.7 26 1.0
Cat (Felis catus) 4.4 0.3 1 0.40 27.2 0.1 9 0.3
Pig/boar (Sus domesticus/S.scrofa) 118.1 0.4 18 0.7
Red deer (Cervus elaphus) 42 0.7 3 0.5 81.3 0.3 7 0.3
Canid (Canis sp.) 4.8 0.0 7 0.3
108
Hare (Lepus europaeus) 1 0.0 2 0.3 1.3 0.1 1 0.40 27.2 0.1 16 0.6
a ppe n di x
Caspian turtle (Mauremys caspica caspica) 24.4 1.5 20 8.10 42.6 0.2 29 1.1
Birds 23.2 0.4 24 4.1 23.2 1.4 28 11.34 236.3 0.9 192 7.1
Catfish (Clarias gariepinus) 4 98

Barbel (Barbus sp.) 1
Tilapia (Tilapiini) 1
Mullet (Mugilidae) 9
Gilt-head seabream (Sparus aurata) 1 4
Seabream (Sparidae indet.) 3
Jack (Carangidae indet.) 1
Seabass (Dicentrarchus sp.) 3 1
Drum (Sciaenidae indet.) 2
table 1 – Summary of identified fragments from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (L. Omar).
Unidentified fish 3
Total 6393.8 580 1626.6 247 27420.4 2702.8
28-04-17 11:05
not es
1 Bosworth 1992. 18 Payne 1973; idem 1987.

2 Albarella 2001; El-Cheikh 2004; Abdullah 19 Albarella 1997.
Aziz al-Taee 2010. 20 Cope 2002.
3 Von Sivers 1982. 21 Lyman 1977; Schulz and Gust 1983.
4 Najman 1988. 22 Hongo 1997.
5 Wason 1994; Gumerman 1997; Reitz and 23 Stein 1998.
2
Wing 2008 . 24 Loyet 2000; Matney et al. 2009.
6 Foss 1991, ‘Tarsos’. Oxford Reference 2005. 25 Crabtree 1990; Albarella 2001.
Date last accessed 8 July 2015. http:// 26 Dodge 1970.
www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/ 27 Al-Dlaeen 2009; Nasrallah 2010.
acref/9780195046526.001.0001/acref- 28 Lunde 2010.
9780195046526-e-5307. 29 Lewicka 2011.
7 Eger 2010. 30 Crabtree 1990; Locker 2000.
8 Bosworth 1992. 31 Rautman 2006.
9 Goldman 1950; idem 1956; idem 1963. 32 Bourbou et al. 2016.
10 Özyar 2005. 33 Albarella 2001.
11 Von Sivers 1982. 34 Von Sivers 1982.
12 Perry 2006. 35 Perry 2006; Lunde 2010; Lewicka 2011.
13 Krupp 1986. 36 Arndt et al. 2003.
14 Van Neer et al. 2004. 37 Van Neer et al. 2004.
15 O’Connor 2008. 38 Ibrahim Hasan 1972.
16 Albarella 1996; Van Der Veen 2003 39 Al-Dlaeen 2009; Nasrallah 2010.
17 Silver 1969; O’Connor 1989.
109

bi bl iogr a ph y
Abdullah Aziz al-Taee, S. 2010. The economy of Thughur in the third and fourth
centuries A.H./the ninth and tenth centuries A.D. (in Arabic), College of Basic
Education Researches Journal 9.3, 497-515.
Albarella, U. 1996. The animal bones, in: P. Ellis, P. Hughes, C. Leach, C. Mould, and
J, Sterenberg (eds.), Excavations Alongside Roman Empire Ermine Street, Cam-
bridgeshire, British Archaeological Reports British Series 276, Oxford, 99-104.
Albarella, U. 1997. Size, power, wool and veal: Zooarchaeological evidence for Late
Medieval innovations, in G. De Boe and F. Verhaeghe (eds.), Environment and
Subsistence in Medieval Europe, Papers of the ‘Medieval Europe Brugge 1997’ Con-
ference, IAP Rapporten 9, Zellik, 19-30.
Albarella, U. 2001. Exploring the real nature of environmental archaeology: An intro-
duction, in: U. Albarella (ed.), Environmental Archaeology: Meaning and Purpose,
Dordrecht, Boston and London, 1-13.
Al-Dlaeen, M.A. 2009. Merchandise in Baghdad’s markets during the first Abbasid
Period (A.H. 145-247/A.D. 762-861) (in Arabic), Dirasat: Human and Social Sci-
ences 36.3, 618-43.
Arndt, A., W. van Neer, B. Hellemans, J. Robben, F. Volckaert and M. Waelkens 2003.
Roman trade relationships at Sagalassos (Turkey) elucidated by ancient DNA of
fish remains, Journal of Archaeological Science 30.9, 1095-105.
Bosworth, C.E. 1992. The city of Tarsus and the Arab-Byzantine frontiers in Early and
Middle Abbāsid times, Oriens 33, 268-86.
Cope, C.R. 2002. Palestinian butchering patterns: Their relation to traditional mar-
keting of meat, in: H. Buitenhuis, A.M. Choyke, M. Mashkour, and A.H. Al-Shi-
yab (eds.), Archaeozoology of the Near East, Vol. 5, arc-Publicaties 62, Groningen,
316-19.
Crabtree, P.J. 1990. Zooarchaeology and complex societies: Some uses of faunal anal-
ysis for the study of trade, social status, and ethnicity, Archaeological Method and
Theory 2, 155-205.
Dodge, B. (ed. & transl.) 1970. The Fihrist of Al-Nadim: A Tenth-Century Survey of
Muslim Culture, New York.
Eger, A. 2010. Hisn Al-Tinat on the Islamic-Byzantine frontier: Synthesis and the
2005-2008 survey and excavation on the Cilician Plain (Turkey), Bulletin of the
American School of Oriental Research 357, 49-76.
El-Cheikh, N.M. 2004. Byzantium Viewed by the Arabs, Harvard.
Foss, C.F.W. 1991a. Tarsos, in: A.P. Kazhdan (ed.), The Oxford Dictionary of Byzan-
tium, Oxford Reference 2005. doi: 10.1093/acref/9780195046526.001.0001.
110

Goldman, H. 1950. Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus i: The Hellenistic and Roman
Periods, Princeton.
Goldman, H. 1956. Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus ii: From the Neolithic Through
the Bronze Age, Princeton.
Goldman, H. 1963. Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus iii: The Iron Age, Princeton.
Gumerman, G. 1997. Food and complex societies, Journal of Archaeological Method
and Theory 4.2, 105-39.
Hongo, H. 1997. Patterns of animal husbandry, environment and ethnicity in Central
Anatolia in the Ottoman Empire period: Faunal remains from Islamic layers at
Kaman-KaleHöyök, Japan Review 8, 275-307.
Ibrahim Hasan, A. 1972. The Islamic History in General: Pre-Islam, The Arab Govern-
ment, The Abbasid Government (in Arabic), Cairo.
Krupp, F. 1986. Freshwater ichthyogeography of the Levant, in: K. Friedhelm, W.
Schneider and R. Kinzelbach (eds.), Proceedings of the Symposium on the Fauna
and Zoogeography of the Middle East, Mainz 1985, Beihefte Zum Tübinger Atlas
Des Vorderen Orients, Wiesbaden, 229-37.
Lewicka, P. 2011. Food and Foodways of Medieval Cairenes: Aspects of Life in an Islamic
Metropolis of the Eastern Mediterranean, Leiden.
Locker, A.M. 2000. The Role of Stored Fish in England 900-1750 AD: The Evidence
from Historical and Archaeological Data, unpublished doctoral thesis, University
of Southampton.
Loyet, M.A. 2000. The potential for within-site variation of faunal remains: A case
study from the Islamic period urban center of Tell Tuneinir, Syria, Bulletin of the
American Schools of Oriental Research 320, 23-48.
Lunde, P. and C. Stone (eds. & transl.) 2010. The Meadows of Gold: The Abbasids, By
Masudi, London.
Lyman, R.L. 1977. Analysis of historic faunal remains, Historical Archaeology 11, 67-
73.
Matney, L, T. Greenfield, A. Hartenberger, K. Keskin, K. Köroglu, J. MacGinnis and
E. Monroe, 2009. Excavations at Ziyaret Tepe 2007-2008, Anatolica 35, 37-84.
Najman, Y. 1988. The Development of Economic Conditions during Al-Risala and
Rashideen Periods, al-Mousl.
Nasrallah, N. 2010. Annals of the Caliphs’ Kitchens, Leiden & Boston.
Neer W., van, O. Lernau R. Friedman, G.Mumford, J. Poblome and M. Waelkens
2004. Fish remains from archaeological sites as indicators of former trade connec-
tions in the Eastern Mediterranean, Paléorient 30.1, 101-48.
O’Connor, T.P. 1989. Bones from Anglo-Scandinavian levels at 16-22 Coppergate, The
Archaeology of York 15, 127-207.
111

O’Connor, T. 2008. The Archaeology of Animal Bones, College Station.

Özyar, A. (ed.) 2005. Field Seasons 2001-2003 of the Tarsus-Gözlükule, Interdisciplinary
Research Project, Istanbul.
Payne, S. 1973. Kill-off patterns in sheep and goats: The mandibles from Aşvan Kale,
Anatolian Studies 2, 281-303.
Payne, S. 1987. Reference codes for wear states in the mandibular cheek teeth of sheep
and goats, Journal of Archaeological Science 14.6, 609-14.
Perry, C. 2006. Cooking with the caliphs, Saudi Aramco World 57.4, 14-23.
Rautman, M.L. 2006. Daily Life in the Byzantine Empire, Westport, Connecticut.
Reitz, E.J. and E.S. Wing 20082. Zooarchaeology, Cambridge & New York, 2nd edi-
tion.
Schulz, P.D., and S.M. Gust 1983. Faunal remains and social status in 19th-Century
Sacramento, Historical Archaeology 17.1, 44-53.
Silver, I.A. 1969. The ageing of domestic animals, in: D.R Brothwell and E.S Higgs
(eds.), Science in Archaeology: A Comprehensive Survey of Progress and Research,
London, 283-302.
Stein, G. 1998. Medieval pastoral production systems at Gritille, in: S. Redford (ed.),
The Archaeology of the Frontier in the Medieval Near East: Excavations at Gritille,
Turkey, University Museum Publication for the Archaeological Institute of Amer-
ica, AIA Monograph New Series number 3, Philadelphia, 181-209.
Veen, M., van der 2003. When is food a luxury?, World Archaeology, 34.3, 405-27.
Von Sivers, P. 1982. Taxes and trade in the Abbāsid Thughūr, 750-962/133-351, Journal
of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 251, 71-99.
Wason, P.K. 1994. The Archaeology of Rank, Cambridge.
112

fig. 1 – Map of Turkey with its current political borders, showing the Islamic / Medieval sites included
in this chapter (L. Omar).
fig. 2 – Frequencies of the animal species in the faunal assemblage from the Gözlüküle Mound at
Tarsus, based on the number of identified fragments (nisp) (L. Omar).
113

fig. 5 – Distribution of ovis/capra’s fusion stages from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (LBA = Late
Bronze Age; L-A = Late Antiquity; MED = Medieval period) (L. Omar).
fig. 6 – Ovis/capra’s teeth wear stages from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus, based on minimum
number of individuals (mni) (L. Omar).
114

fig. 7 – Pattern of cut marks on sheep/goats remains from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (L. Omar).
fig. 8 – Ratios of identified animal species from different Islamic / Medieval settlements in Turkey
(L. Omar).
115

* * *
M E D I E VA L P E R I O D

* * *
w illi a m a n d his men en joy a feast
*
Guillaume et ses hommes préparent un banquet bénit par l’évêque Odon
Detail from Bayeux Tapestry, 11th century
Courtesy of Musée de la Tapisserie de Bayeux, Normandy, France

* * *
Cypriot and Levantine cooking wares

in Frankish Cyprus
Ruth Smadar Gabrieli, Yona Waksman, Anastasia Shapiro
& Alessandra Pecci
i n t roduct ion
By the end of the 12th century, Cyprus was annexed to the Crusader Levant, under
the rule of the Frankish Lusignan dynasty. One of the visible effects that this change
had on the archaeological record is an intensive exchange of ceramics between island
and mainland. There is little doubt that, as well as being integrated into the inter-
national trade network between Europe and the Levant, Cyprus became part of the
regional distribution networks of the Crusader Levant. The emerging glazed ceramics
production of Paphos-Lemba, in the south-west of the island, sent its products to the
Levantine coast and, from the other direction, a traffic in glazed cooking wares (deep
cooking pots and shallow pans/baking dishes, see Figs. 3-4) was added to the existing
imports of Port Saint Symeon and Zeuxippus-related tablewares from the Levantine
and Byzantine areas respectively. Glazed cooking wares were a novelty to Cypriot
households, and gained popularity, but their geographic distribution remained limit-
ed. The trade in the glazed cooking wares and their distribution pattern raises issues
of foodways and of trade patterns.
Within the pomedor project (‘People, Pottery and Food in the Medieval Eastern
Mediterranean’), we tried to investigate both of these issues as well as the production
of Cypriot cooking wares (see Figs. 5-7) and the impact that the new vessels may have
had on it. The study combined macro-visual examination of visible use marks and
quantification along with elemental,1 petrographic and residue analyses. The sample
was chosen to comprise a representative range of Cypriot production, imports and
functional types. As a pilot project, the results should be considered preliminary,
Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 119-143 (+ plates pp. 376-377) ©119

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113480

pointing the direction and refining questions for future research. Previous studies by
Gabrieli2 and by Waksman3 were used as a baseline for provenance studies and func-
tion, and will be referred to below.
Four sites were included in the study, three in the harbour town of Paphos and one
in the centre of the island, in the capital Nicosia. Concentrating on two locations had
the advantage of minimising the number of variables that could not be controlled in
a sample of limited scope (such as variability related to population makeup), while
providing a measure of control that the results are not strictly local.
In this paper, we focus on the sites in Paphos (Fig. 2), which contain assemblages
of short duration:
The castle of Saranda Kolones, near the harbour of Paphos, was built in the first
years of the Lusignan dynasty, at the very end of the 12th century. It survived less than
half a century before it was destroyed in the earthquake of 1222. The site was excavated
by A.H.S Megaw.4
A Roman-period tomb, in Odos Ikarou (Icarus Street), that was in secondary use in
the 13th century, probably as a storage space. A full household assemblage was found
in the tomb, which was situated at Odos Ikarou, about a kilometer from Saranda
Kolones. The site was excavated by Dr E. Raptou.5
Fabrika Hill, the medieval-period occupation at the site began in the 13th century,
after which the site was continuously occupied up until the mid-20th century. The site
was excavated by Professor J.R. Green. The sample we used was excavated in a sealed
well that contained debris from a single event, probably the earthquake of 1303.6
r ese a rch qu est ions
The project concentrated on three topics:

Cypriot production – Previous studies indicate that 13th century production of cook-
ing wares had considerable morphological and technological uniformity throughout
large parts of the Island, suggesting craft specialisation of hand-made pottery.7 Petro-
graphic analysis of samples from Paphos pointed to workshops in the Troodos area or
along the Ezuza, Xerox and Diarizos rivers, which descend from the Troodos to the
Paphos area.8 In this study, we extended the Paphos sample and began a comparative
study to identify the provenance of vessels that were excavated in Nicosia.9
Trade – The distribution of the Levantine cooking wares is not uniform across the
island. At this stage of research, it is not possible to be certain, but it seems that trade
may have been limited to some coastal sites, as a regional rather than ‘international’
trade, and to Nicosia, the capital. This suggestion must remain tentative because it
120

g a br i e l i , wa k sm a n , sh a pi ro & pecc i – co ok i ng wa r e s
may reflect the distribution of excavated sites rather than that of the vessels; however,
Levantine cooking wares were certainly not found in surveys of the inland Troodos
area,10 none were published in the Palaipaphos survey11 or from the area of Polis and
only a single body sherd was found in a survey of the material from the Princeton
University excavations at Polis-Arsinou.12 The absence of the Levantine cooking pots
in the Troodos was interpreted as reflecting regional trade networks,13 distinct from
the international trade network that the Crusader Levant played a part in. If their
exclusion from more central sites along the coast is confirmed, we should consider the
possibility that the glazed cooking-wares export from the Levant was between specific
sites/workshops on the mainland and the island. Previous provenance studies were
limited to the region of Paphos14 and pointed to a single source, or at least a primary
one, of production in the Levant, located in Beirut. However, in-hand examination
suggested that at least some of the vessels in Paphos came from a different source and
we sampled them to test this identification and determine provenance (e.g. Sample
bzy618 [oi103], see below).
–Foodways – In this study, we set out to identify similarities and differences in the use
of cooking wares on two levels: between different types of cooking vessels and between
local and imported vessels. Patterns in use of individual types of vessels are thus taken as
indications of patterns in cooking habits in general. However, this is not a simple mat-
ter: similarities and differences in the use of local and imported vessels may be seen as a
argument for the adaptation of new vessels to existing habits, or for the introduction of
entirely new foodways. Even if within the scope of the current study it proves impossible
to get definite answers, we hope that by starting the collection and interpretation of the
related data, we may be able to refine the questions and facilitate future studies.
sa m pl i ng a n d m et hodology
The study combined standard practices of macro-visual examination – looking at

morphology, pottery fabric and use marks (soot patterns) – in order to determine
function, use and suggest production mode; petrographic and elemental analyses for
the questions of trade and organisation of production; residue analysis for the evi-
dence of foodways.
As previously mentioned, in the study as a whole, we concentrated on two loca-
tions, to limit variability over which we have no control. Here, however, we discuss
only the three sites from Paphos. Each of these sites represents one household, albeit
of a different type, and therefore variability in sources and use should reflect a single
household preference.
121

Elemental analysis by X-ray fluorescence15 and petrographic analysis was carried

out on 24 samples from Odos Ikarou, 21 from Saranda Kolones, and 3 from Fabrika
Hill (Table 1).16 We tried to get as much variability as possible from the two large
assemblages in order to include samples from a wide range of cooking ware types and,
at the same time, get multiple samples of each type. We did not sample each and every
type but rather chose multiple samples from a range of types which, judging by mor-
phology (shape and size) and use marks, represented different facets of cooking: pans/
baking dishes (Fig. 3, 5), pots (Figs. 4, 6-7), and jugs (Fig. 7).
Samples of wares of both Cypriot and Levantine types were taken from Odos
Ikarou and Saranda Kolones. The samples from Fabrika Hill (bzy661-663) were cho-
sen to complement the sample of Cypriot jugs. Soot marks suggest that some jugs were
used on the fire and one aim of the analysis was to check if they were manufactured,
like the cooking wares, with a clayey material adapted to exposure to thermal shocks.17
The sample included three pans with unusual morphological details: bzy619, pan with
a straight handle (Fig. 3), bzy621, a pan/baking dish with a distinct profile, fabric
and texture of glaze (Fig. 3) and bzy625, a pan/baking dish with small lug-handles
and a rim slanting towards a rounded pinched-spout (Fig. 5, the difference in height
between the two sides of the vessel is clearly visible).
A Levantine origin for the glazed cooking wares was already proposed for Saran-
da Kolones samples in previous archaeometric studies18. As most of the glazed wares
of Levantine types are similar morphologically and in the appearance of their fabric
to those manufactured in Beirut,19 their elemental compositions were compared to
Beirut reference data.20 The samples which were not attributed to Beirut by elemental
analysis were submitted to petrographic analysis in an effort to propose alternative
provenance (3 samples).
The elemental and petrographic analysis of the Cypriot vessels under study here
were expected to elicit further information on the organisation of production and on
the possible location(s) of the corresponding workshop(s).
In the end, the sample size that could be submitted for residue analysis was very
limited, and in order to get a coherent body of evidence, we decided to focus on one
site only. Odos Ikarou was chosen21 because it is the site that represents a normative
household. Final selection took into account the results of the provenance study, so as
to get a sample that represented the variability of the assemblage, in the forms and in
the sources of the vessels. We took a total of 11 samples (Table 1): four glazed Levantine
vessels were sampled (three pans/baking dishes and one pot; Figs. 3-4, and seven Cyp-
riot unglazed ones (three pans/baking dishes, three pots of different sizes and one jug;
Figs. 5-7). Residues analysis followed the methods proposed by Mottram et al. and by
Pecci et al.22 for the identification of lipids and wine markers.
122

r esu lts a n d discussion prov e na nce:

e l e m e n ta l a n d pet rogr a ph ic a na lysis
Elemental analysis distinguishes two main heterogeneous groups and a few outliers
(Fig. 8). The first elemental group includes only samples of Levantine types (Figs. 3-4).
It tends to be divided into two sub-groups which present some differences, for in-
stance in their iron, silicium and aluminium contents (Fig. 8, Table 2). This sub-
division is, however, not significant as all the samples of this group are part of a larger
cluster which corresponds to the low-calcareous productions of Beirut (cf. Fig. 9).
Figure 9 shows how they are integrated in the corresponding reference groups, whose
elemental features are detailed elsewhere.23 Nearly all of the samples of Levantine
type are part of these sub-groups and can be attributed to Beirut24 . However, it is no-
ticeable that three of them (bzy616, 618 and 621; Fig. 3) are very different chemically,
pointing to different origins. All three are distinguished by their higher potassium
contents, and samples bzy616 and bzy618 are further distinguished by their higher
chromium contents (Table 2). These two have very similar compositions and belong
to the same production. bzy621 had already been singled out because of its form,
glaze and fabric.25
These three outliers were subjected to petrographic analysis and form a group
whose lithology is slightly similar to Beirut production, but not identical. They have
ferruginous matrix with rare quartz silt, tiny flakes of biotite mica and tiny opaque
dots, possibly of an ore mineral.
The non-plastic inclusions account for 10-15 % of the sherd’s volume and are round-
ed, sub-rounded, and sometimes sub-angular ranging between 0.1 and 0.5 mm. The
lithology of the inclusions comprises predominantly quartz, mostly mature but also
mosaic, and lesser quantities of chert, plagioclase, olivine (<0.2 mm), chlorite, mica,
carbonate material and ore mineral (Figs. 10-11). In sample bzy618, there is one round
chalcedony grain and several coarse (1.0 mm) carbonate inclusions (one elongated, the
others rounded) of probably biogenic origin. The carbonate material is cryptocrystal-
line, i.e. it decomposed during firing or derived from a biogenic chalk mother-rock.
One oval grain of chlorite schist and one 2.0 mm rounded quartz grain are reported
in the section of sample bzy621.
The large (1.0-2.0 mm), partly elongated voids within the sherd are negatives of
organic matter which was added to the paste and later burnt off. The air cracks within
the matrix, generally orientated parallel to the surfaces of the pot, most probably orig-
inated in the firing. This is likely to have been caused by the different expansion rates
of the clay and the mineral inclusions. Inside these cracks in sample bzy618 there is
carbonate material, secondary infilling due to post-depositional conditions e.g. repeat-
123

ed exposure to water. The dark grey colour of the core and the whole sherd is either as
a result of the firing conditions or is use related.
The graininess of the mineral inclusions in samples bzy616, 618 and 621 (especially
of cherts and plagioclases) is due to rolling, either by sea waves or in flowing water.
This suggests an area of seashore or riverbed where quartz sandstones, mafic rocks,
sedimentary formations containing chert and quartz veins, are all exposed to erosion.
Cyprus is not rich in quartz.26 On the other hand, some quartz occurs within Troodos
ophiolites in plagiogranite27 and as veins in sulfide deposits.28 The former may supply
clear mature quartz and plagioclase, the latter, mosaic quartz. A Cypriot origin should
therefore be considered as a possibility. This conclusion is in line with petrographic
analysis that was undertaken by Gordon-Smith.29 Gordon-Smith identified sample
bzy621 (OI101) as distinct from the Levantine wares which were all grouped together
as Group (a) and placed it subsequently in his Group (b). For Group (b), he suggested
an origin outside Cyprus or, tentatively, the Troodos igneous suite.
The shape and glaze of these vessels (bzy616, 618 and 621) singled them out from
the Levantine wares, and their lithology confirms that they do not match the geology
of the Beirut vicinity. An area whose geology correlates with this lithology begins at
the foothills of Jabal Moussa (between Beirut and Byblos) and extends northwards
along the western slope of Mount Lebanon to Ehden, where the Lower Cretaceous
sandstone crops alongside basalts of the same age, marls and calcareous sediments.30
With few exceptions, wares of Cypriot types cluster in a loosely defined group in the
elemental classification (Fig. 8). These are all unglazed wares except for one sample of
a shallow dish with a spout (bzy626, Fig. 5). Their low calcareous, and fairly ferrug-
inous, pastes have common elemental characteristics: very low rare earths content,31
low to very low titanium and zirconium, and low rubidium contents. The potassium
content is more variable and iron and vanadium have medium to high concentrations
with aluminium and magnesium concentrations also being fairly high. Strontium
contents are fairly high (and stable, unlike the pollution patterns seen in the group of
Beirut imports) in these low calcareous clays, whereas barium is noticeably low. Nickel
contents are low (in most cases below 100 ppm, Table 2), whereas the chromium con-
tents are very variable but generally remaining below circa 300 ppm (with a mean
concentration of 161 ppm). The usual association of high magnesium, chromium and
nickel contents, which would be expected in clayey materials derived from ophiolitic
formations such as at the Troodos Mountains, is not observed.
Two samples of jugs (bzy897 and 898, not illustrated, type as bzy627 Fig. 7), ap-
pear as marginal in Figure 8, particularly due to their higher titanium contents (also
observed in cooking pot bzy900, not illustrated, type as Figs. 6-7) and lower alumini-
124

um and strontium contents (Table 2). These differences could be indicative of another
production centre, and it may be significant that these two jugs come from Saranda
Kolones, and are at least half a century earlier.
Except for these marginal samples, we have no strong evidence that the Cypriot
types have more than one source. A working hypothesis could be that they correspond
to the production of a workshop, or a group of workshops, that extracted clays in differ-
ent locations of the same clay formations. Concentrations of several elements (especial-
ly in titanium, potassium and chromium) show large variations, but these variations do
not correspond to identifiable sub-structures at the present stage of research. Despite
the considerable body of existing data on Cypriot pottery and clays, the location of the
workshop(s) is still difficult to pinpoint.32 The combination of elemental features ob-
served is uncommon in ceramics; similar compositions could not be found within the
circa 45.000 samples of ceramics and clays in the Lyon database except for a single sherd
collected in Phini, a Cypriot village in the Troodos known for its tradition of pottery
manufacture (Table 2: bzy946).33 A clayey soil sample in the murr database (kkp575),
collected at Phini, also has a compatible elemental composition. Other pottery and clay
samples from Phini and the nearby village of Ayios Dimitrios, which were analysed at
murr, show fairly similar characteristics.34 This comparative data would suggest a clay
procurement in this area of the Troodos, but from a formation little influenced chem-
ically by minerals rich in chromium and nickel.
A pan (bzy624, Fig. 5) and three cooking pots (bzy629, Fig. 6; bzy631, Fig. 7;
bzy663, not illustrated, type as previous two) of this elemental group were examined
by petrography and form a clear petrographic group, together with five more examples
from St Theodoros monastery in Nicosia. They are made of a ferruginous micaceous
clay, which contains circa 3% silty quartz (of possibly aeolian origin), plagioclase, py-
roxene, olivine (rare) and other minerals derived from mafic rocks. The sand size of
non-plastic inclusions account for circa 20% of the sherds volume and are rounded to
sub-rounded (except for mica laths) ranging between 0.1-1.8 mm. The lithology of the
inclusions is dominated by mica and pyroxene, with other minerals such as plagioclase,
quartz, and olivine and mafic rocks, with the exclusion of basalts (byz692, Fig. 12, tak-
en as representative of the ‘Cypriot main group’). Some of the inclusions have signs
of erosion (thin calcareous or ferruginous crusts on the grains, with hair cracks filled
with the same materials). The inclusions lack any orientation within the sherds cross-
sections, a characteristic of hand-made vessels. Numerous round and oval voids, some
surrounded by a dark grey to grey aureole, substantiate the supposition that quantities
of straw or chaff were added to the raw clay and were burnt off during firing.
The estimated firing temperature is 700-750°c. Some of the sherds have a grey or
yellowish brown core, especially in thick cross-sections (bzy624, Fig. 5); some are
125

evenly fired (bzy629, Fig. 6); some exhibit use-related colour change, and are dark
grey near the outer surface (bzy629) or through most of their cross-section.
The graininess of the rock and mineral inclusions in the sherds (poorly sorted
grains of numerous rocks and minerals) suggest that the non-plastic inclusions were
not deliberately added to the clay, but are part of its original composition. The clay
itself was mined at its natural outcrop or close to it, otherwise the crust on the rock
and mineral grains would have washed away.
Arc-like exposures of the various geological formations can be found around the
Troodos Range. Many of the Cypriot clays contain montmorillonite, which causes
extensive swelling when wet.35 The excessive plasticity of these clays renders them un-
suitable for pottery manufacture without mixing with other clays, or with tempering
material. In a survey of traditional Cypriot pottery production in the early 1970s,36
most potters were found to mix clays and tempers from different sources in various
proportions and, even when using the same source, each follows his own recipe. We
suggest, therefore, that the raw material for the cooking pots that were sampled was
either micaceous clay mined close to its mother rock, or clayey clay (e.g. bentonite)
mixed with the sandy fraction of an eroded micaceous formation.
Bentonite from the Upper Cretaceous Kannaviou formation37 was suggested as
the source of clay for micaceous samples from Kalavassos Ayios Dimitrios,38 with add-
ed temper. In our case, the dominant tempers are mica and pyroxene. Pyroxene is
common in Cyprus and the source of mica is, therefore, the main clue.
Possible sources for mica are mica schist or mica sandstone; in southern Cyprus,
the mica schist is attributed to the Upper Cretaceous Aya Varvara formation.39 There
are three main points within the Mamonia Terrane, where it crops outside the Kan-
naviou formation: Agia Varvara (along the riverbed of Ezousa River circa 6 km from
the estuary, southeast of Paphos), Marathounda, east of Paphos, and Mavrokolympos
to its northwest.40 Farther north, towards Polis, mica sandstones were also found in
the highland of the Mamonia Terrane, to the west of Evretou, within the rocks’ debris
transported by Chrisochous River.41
Further away and probably not relevant in the present case, there are several small
outcrops on the northern slope of the Pentadaktylos Range near Kyrenia, in the chalk
and limestone missives of the Hilarion and Lapithos formations.42
In general, the results of our petrographic study correlate with previous petrographic
analyses of vessels from Paphos43 and of presumed Cypriot vessels that were found
in Acre.44 However, the results of the petrographic and elemental analyses are not in
total agreement. The difference between the possible locations suggested by the two
analyses stems from the presence of mica, and the two sources of mica east of Paphos
126

(Agia Varvara and Marathounda) are a little less than 50 km walking distance – albeit
over a difficult terrain – from Phini, and a workshop in the vicinity of Phini may well
have been closer to Paphos. Carrying mica temper over such distances is not incon-
ceivable.45 Itinerant potters in early 20th century Cyprus even travelled with donkeys
carrying wet clay, as Casson describes in his study of potters around the Aegean in the
early 20th century.46
food a n d foodways
We approached the question of foodways by a combined study of the vessels them-

selves and through organic residues analysis.
Eleven samples were analysed, all from the site of Odos Ikarou, in order to examine
the use of different vessels within one context. The sample included glazed Levantine
and unglazed Cypriot vessels – pans, cooking pots, and a single jug (Table 1). All the
vessels analysed, including the jug, had soot-patterns that correspond to their use as
cooking wares. Residue analysis identified animal and vegetal products in the eleven
samples, Cypriot and imports.47 It is possible that the vessels were also used to heat
water, or cook dishes which contained ingredients that cannot be identified with the
analyses performed, such as grains and legumes. Although retention of residues can
vary between vessels due to factors such as porosity and post-depositional environ-
ment, the analyses show relatively less residues in the unglazed pans/baking dishes
(bzy622-624; Fig. 5). These vessels are sometimes referred to as parching dishes, and
if indeed they were used for dry roasting of food which had no animal or fatty vegetal
origin, no residues would be expected.
Tartaric acid and markers of fermentation were identified in the unglazed pan
bzy624 (Fig. 5), suggesting the use of wine or its derivatives as an ingredient of the
food prepared (although other fruit-based fermented beverage which contain tartaric
acid, such as tamarind, may also have been used). All these residues may well have
originated in components of a sauce that was added during cooking,48 which suggests
that the ingredients of the food prepared in the pans were not uniform.
The difference between the Cypriot and Levantine cooking wares that most clearly
suggests different functions, is the glazed surface which acts as a non-stick surface.
This is not so significant when comparing the uses of the pots because the deep, glob-
ular outline is appropriate for the same type of cooking whether the surface is glazed
or not; the glazed surface, however, offers a new scope as far as the shallow, open pans
are concerned, facilitating the baking and extracting of dishes that set, such as the
egg-based patina. The apparent distinction in use between glazed and unglazed pans/
baking dishes, which is indicated by the residue analysis, can be explained in more
127

than one way. It may suggest indeed that specific cooking habits were associated with
the two different wares, and that new dishes were associated with the imported pans/
baking dishes, but it could also be the result of the difference in size (unglazed Cypriot
pans had diameter of circa 28 cm, the glazed Levantine ones that were analysed had a
diameter of 17 cm), which would also dictate cooking different dishes.
Residue analysis also provided a clue as to the use of some jugs as cooking vessels.
Four of the ten unglazed Cypriot jugs that were found in the assemblage at Odos Ikarou
had soot marks. One of them was analysed (bzy627; Fig. 7) and the analysis revealed the
presence of animal-origin products, as observed in coarse-ware Medieval jugs in other
areas of the Mediterranean.49 The evidence for cooking or heating food, rather than wa-
ter, may indicate dedicated use of certain jugs for these purposes, and others for storing
liquids. Currently, the residue analysis can only suggest broad guidelines for the uses of
the different types of vessels, and point at directions for future studies. The number of
samples analysed should be increased to understand patterns in use of the vessels and the
food cooked in them. Another avenue to explore is a more detailed characterisation of
the animal products, to try and identify the species of animals consumed.
conclu di ng r e m a r k s
Archaeometric investigations were carried out on cooking wares from sites which rep-
resent different types of local households in Frankish Paphos (late 12th-14th centu-
ries). When choosing the sample, we tried to include a representative range of Cypriot
production, imports and functional types.
Elemental and petrographic analysis provided a useful insight into production and
consumption. Elemental analysis showed that most of the glazed cooking wares came
from Beirut. Beirut thus appears to be a significant provider for Crusader Paphos, as
it was for the Levantine area itself (Beirut cooking wares are common, for example,
in Crusader-period sites in northern Israel, e.g. Acre50). Although Beirut was not the
only production site that provided Paphos with glazed cooking wares at that time, it
was by far the largest. In Odos Ikarou, only three out of the fifteen glazed cooking ves-
sels had a distinctly different fabric and/or glaze. All three were sampled, and elemen-
tal analysis separated them as distinct from the Beirut group. Petrography suggests
that they could have been manufactured either in Cyprus or in the Levantine area, in
a region north of Beirut. No quantification was possible for the assemblage of Saranda
Kolones, but a quick survey leaves little doubt that the imported cooking wares there
are also mostly from Beirut. The quantity of glazed cooking wares from 13th century
contexts at Fabrika is small, but eleven samples were submitted in the past to petro-
graphic analysis together with two samples from Odos Ikarou. All thirteen samples
128

formed a single petrographic group which, significantly, included no other vessels.51

Further analyses of similar wares found in the Levant should help to understand bet-
ter the share of competing workshops in the market, and whether their products are
associated with specific contexts.
Although their precise origin is not yet clear, Cypriot cooking wares show fairly
consistent analytical features, conforming to the suggestions that the production of
utilitarian hand-made pottery in the 13th century concentrated in a few production
areas, most (if not all) in the Troodos.52 It is likely that these centres would serve par-
ticular areas in the Island, and that Paphos would be served primarily by one pro-
duction area (although not necessarily one production centre). Our results suggest
a scenario of a workshop, or more likely a group of workshops, that extracted clays
with common elemental features in different locations of the same formations. These
workshops manufactured cooking and storage wares using the same clayey material,
allowing multiple functions for the different types, as is made obvious by the soot
marks on some jugs but not on others.
The impact of the imported cooking wares on local foodways is not easy to assess, as
the evidence is ambivalent. The Levantine cooking wares came in two shapes: deep
cooking pots (Fig. 4) and open baking dishes/pans (Fig. 3). Both shapes were glazed on
the inside, the glaze providing a sealed, non-stick surface. Although the deep cooking
pots had a distinctly different outline from the local ones (Fig. 6-7), they could be used
to cook the same dishes. The pores in the fabric of the unglazed Cypriot pots may have
been closed, and the surface sealed, by the Pinaceae products which were identified in
them.53 In pans/baking dishes, on the other hand, the non-stick quality of the glaze
was significant, and would have opened possibilities for new dishes.
The significantly higher proportion of glazed Levantine baking dishes vs local non-
glazed ones in the two assemblages that have been quantified so far (Fabrika Hill 5%
vs 2% of the cooking wares assemblage, min. nos. count, sample size 55 vessels; Odos
Ikarou 17% vs 6% of the cooking wares assemblage, min. nos. count, sample size 65 ves-
sels, and 22% vs 7% e.v.e count) suggests that indeed these vessels may have been associ-
ated with new cooking habits, although the evidence cannot be considered conclusive.
Hopefully the residues analysis, which is currently under way on identical Levantine
wares that were found in Crusader Acre, will give further insight into this question.
The adoption of glaze by Cypriot production of cooking wares, as import dwindled
and ceased by the end of the 13th century, seems to support their association with spe-
cific food, however the attempts of local workshops to fill the gap seems half-hearted.
Some cooking wares were glazed, and among them were shallow dishes with a small
pinched spout – a new shape to Cypriot production, and not a direct imitation of the
129

Levantine types; this is seemingly a variant that was modified to suit local foodways
(bzy626, Fig. 5 is a rare example to be found in association with Levantine cooking
wares). In particular, the use of spouts in the local glazed baking-dishes suggests cook-
ing of liquid food, or food in sauce rather than baking dishes that set, and may indicate
that whatever was cooked in the Levantine pans reflects local tradition and not food
that arrived with the vessels. Moreover, local production of glazed vessels did not last:
it seems to have ceased by the end of the 15th century. Indeed, two centuries are not
a trivial matter and, quite possibly, food habits underwent by then another shift, but
the heyday of local glazed pans was over long before, and their common use may not
have lasted the 14th century.
Eventually, it is clear that the shape of the local deep cooking pots changed over
time and became more like the Levantine pots. However, this happened at least half
a century after the imports stopped and it may have been a response to changing local
circumstances rather than to cultural influence.
Given the state of knowledge on this period, nuanced answers must await more
research. As part of the pomedor project we are studying comparable material from
Nicosia, which overlaps the current period but continues until the 16th century, and
assemblages from Crusader-period Acre.54 These studies will place the results pub-
lished here in the wider context of the Crusader Levant and in a longer sequence of
development. The ‘gap period’ of the mid-7th–12th centuries in Cypriot archaeology
(and historical sources) poses a particular problem, because it limits the understand-
ing of the long-term development of the Cypriot assemblage. Nevertheless, we hope
that our study will provide a basis for future ones.
*
This study was funded by the French National Research Agency (anr) through the
pomedor project, and we acknowledge the support of the anr under reference
anr-12-cult-0008. A. Pecci’s contribution to the paper is part of the activities of
the eraaub, Consolidated Group (2014 sgr 845) funded by the Comissionat per
a Universitats i Recerca del diue of the Generalitat de Catalunya, and the Ramon y
Cajal contract (ryc 2013- 13369) funded by the Ministerio de Economía y Competitiv-
idad. We are grateful to the Cypriot Department of Antiquities, and in particular Dr.
Raptou and Ms. Zachariou for permission to study the material. Drawings C. Brun,
J. Burlot, University of Sydney Paphos Theatre Project; plates layout S.Y. Waksman;
photos under the polarizing microscope A. Shapiro.
130

not es
1 Also referred to as ‘chemical analysis’ in the 19 El-Masri 1997-1998, 103-19; Waksman 2002;
literature. The term ‘elemental’ is used here, François et al. 2003, 325-40.
because chemical analysis may also refer to 20 Waksman 2002; Idem 2014.
residue analysis. 21 Pecci et al. 2016: doi:
2 Gabrieli 2006; idem 2008, 423-54; idem 10.1080/20548923.2016.1183960.
2013, 69-74. 22 Mottram et al. 1999, 209-21; Pecci et al.
3 Waksman 2002, 67-77; idem 2014, 257-77; 2013a, 883-93; idem 2013b, 109-15.
Waksman et al. 2008, 157-90. 23 Waksman 2002.
4 Megaw 1971, 117-46; Rosser 1987, 185-97. 24 Within this group, most of the outlying
5 Raptou 2006, 317-42; Gabrieli 2008. values in Table 2 may be attributed to
6 Green et al. 2014. pollution due to the burial environment (for
7 Gabrieli et al. 2014, 193-229. strontium and barium, see Picon 1987, 41-
8 Gabrieli 2014, 8.17-18; Gordon-Smith 2006. 47). An anomalous high value of Cr may be
9 Gabrieli et al. forthcoming. noted (bzy889).
10 Gabrieli 2013, 73. 25 Gabrieli 2008, 439; idem 2006, 8.17, sample
11 Gregory 1993, 157-76. oi101.
12 The survey was undertaken by Gabrieli 26 Constantinou 1995.
in 2014, with the kind permission of the 27 Twining 1996, 245-48.
Princeton Cyprus Expedition. 28 Cann and Gillis 2004, 274-310.
13 Gabrieli 2007, 403. 29 Gordon-Smith 2006.
14 Waksman 2002; Gabrieli 2006. 30 Dubertret et al. 1955; Walley in http://ddc.
15 See e.g. Waksman 2011, 201-12, for details of aub.edu.lb/projects/geology/geology-of-
the experimental protocol and the statistical lebanon (date last checked 10/12/2016).
treatment of elemental data. Rb and Ce were 31 Lanthanum, which is below detection
not taken into account in the present case, as limits in most samples, was not included in
many values were very low, below the limits Table 2.
of quantification (Ce) or with a relative 32 See e.g. Jones 1986, for studies before 1983;
precision too low for them to be included in Rautman et al. 1993, 233-64; Gomez et al. 1996,
multivariate statistical treatments (Rb). 69-82; idem 2002, 23-36; Waksman 2014.
16 Five samples of Cypriot types from Nicosia 33 Our many thanks to Lucy Vallauri (la3m,
were also taken into account, they will be Aix-en-Provence) for providing sherds from
presented in more details in Gabrieli et al. Phini.
forthcoming. 34 We would like to thank warmly Marcus
17 Picon 1995, 283-92. Rautman and Michael Glascock for giving
18 Megaw and Jones 1983, 235-63; Waksman us access to their chemical data on Cyprus.
2002; idem 2014. The data were all analysed by M.
131

Glascock using naa in the Archaeometry 44 Goren 1997, 71-74; Stern 1997, 43, Fig. 5:37;
Laboratory at the University of Missouri Shapiro 2012, 111, sample 130.
Research Reactor (murr). The primary 45 Picon 1985, 119-31.
standards used were srm-1633a Coal Fly 46 Casson 1938, 467.
Ash and srm-688 Basalt. The analysis was 47 Pecci et al. 2016. Further isotopic analyses of
funded in part by the US National Science the organic residues are currently in process
Foundation. in collaboration with R.P. Evershed.
35 Atalar and Kilic 2006, 1-8. 48 Pecci et al. 2016; see also Barnard et al. 2011.
36 MacLaurin Hemsley 1991, 215-20. 49 Pecci 2009, 21-42.; Pecci et al. 2016.
37 Gilbert and Robertson 2013, 273-322. 50 Stern and Waksman 2003, 167-80; and
38 Goren et al. 2003, 233-55. see also Waksman et al. 2008; Stern et al.
39 Constantinou 1995. forthcoming.
40 Gilbert and Robertson 2013, 275-77. 51 Gordon-Smith 2006, Group (a).
41 Elliott 1991, 95-106. 52 Gabrieli 2014, 209-211.
42 Constantinou 1995. 53 Pecci 2006, 517-23.
43 Gordon-Smith 2006, Group d, but mica is 54 Stern et al. forthcoming; Gabrieli et al.
mentioned there in only one sample. forthcoming.
132

bi bl iogr a ph y
Atalar, C. and R. Kilic 2006. Geotechnical Properties of Cyprus Clays. iaeg (Interna-
tional Association for Engineering Geology and the Environment), paper 419, 1-8.
Barnard, H., A.N. Dooley, G. Areshian, B. Gasparyan and K.F. Faull 2011. Chemical
evidence for wine production around 4000 BCE in the Late Chalcolithic near
eastern highlands, Journal of Archaeological Science 38, 977-84.
Cann, J.R. and K.M. Gillis 2004. Hydrothermal insights from the Troodos ophiolite,
Cyprus, in: H. Elderfield and E. Davis (eds.), The Hydrology of the Oceanic Litho-
sphere, Cambridge, 274-310.
Casson, S. 1938. The modern pottery in the Aegean, Antiquity 12, 464-73.
Constantinou, G. 1995 (revised). Geological Map of Cyprus 1:250000, Nicosia.
Dubertret, L., A. Keller, H. Vautrin, C. Birembault, H.F. Heybroek, G. Canaple, A.A.
Combaz, G. Mandersheid and G. Renouard 1955. Cartes Géologiques du Liban
1/200 000e. Avec notice explicative, Beirut.
El-Masri, S. 1997-1998. Medieval pottery from Beirut’s downtown excavations: The
first results, aram 9-10, 103-19.
Elliott, C. 1997. Rock sources of ground stone tools of the Chalcolithic period in Cy-
prus, Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research No. 282/283, Sympo-
sium: Chalcolithic Cyprus (May-Aug., 1991), 95-106.
François, V., A. Nicolaïdès, L. Vallauri and Y. Waksman 2003. Premiers éléments
pour une caractérisation des productions de Beyrouth entre domination franque
et mamelouke, in: Ch. Bakirtzis (ed.), Actes du viie Congrès International sur la
Céramique Médiévale en Méditerranée, Thessalonique, 11-16 octobre 1999, Athens,
325-40.
Gabrieli, R.S. 2006. Silent Witnesses: The Evidence of Domestic Wares of the 13th–
19th Centuries in Paphos, Cyprus for Local Economy and Social Organisation,
unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Sydney.
Gabrieli, R.S. 2008. Towards a chronology: The medieval coarse ware from the tomb
in Icarus Street, Kato Pafos, Report of the Department of Antiquities, Cyprus 2008,
423-54.
Gabrieli, R.S. 2013. Medieval-Modern utility wares, in: M. Given, A.B. Knapp, J. Nol-
ler, L. Sollars and V. Kassianidou (eds.), Landscape and Interaction: The Troodos
Archaeological and Environmental Survey Project, Cyprus, Vol. i: Methodology,
Analysis and Interpretation, Levant supplementary series 14, London, 69-74.
Gabrieli, R.S. 2014. Shades of brown: Regional differentiation in the coarse ware of
medieval Cyprus, in: D. Papanikola-Bakirtzi and N. Coureas (eds.) Cypriot Medie-
val Ceramics: Reconsiderations and New Perspectives, Nicosia, 191-212.
133

Gabrieli, R.S. 2015. Specialisation and development in the handmade pottery indus-
tries of Cyprus and the Levant in: J. Vroom (ed.) Medieval and Post-Medieval Ce-
ramics in the Eastern Mediterranean – Fact and Fiction: Proceedings of the First
International Conference on Byzantine and Ottoman Archaeology, Amsterdam,
21-23 October 2011, Medieval and Post-Medieval Mediterranean Archaeology 1,
Turnhout, 127-49.
Gabrieli, R.S., D. Ben-Shlomo and B.J. Walker 2014. Production and distribution of
Geometric-Painted (hmgp) and Plain Hand-Made Wares of the Mamluk Period:
A case study from Northern Israel, Jerusalem and Hisban, Journal of Islamic Ar-
chaeology 1.2, 193-229.
Gabrieli, R.S., E. Stern, A. Pecci, A. Shapiro and S.Y. Waksman forthcoming. Ar-
chaeological and archaometric investigations into cooking wares in Frankish and
Venetian Cyprus, in: S.Y. Waksman (ed.), Multidisciplinary Approaches to Food
and Foodways in the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean, Travaux de la Maison de
l’Orient et de la Méditerranée, Lyon.
Gilbert, M.F. and A.H.F. Robertson 2013. Field relations, geochemistry and origin of
the Upper Cretaceous Volcaniclastics Kannaviou Formationin Western Cyprus:
Evidence of a Southerly Neotethyan Volcanic Arc, In: A.H.F. Robertson, O. Par-
lak and U.C. Ünlügenç (eds.) Geological Development of Anatolia and the Eastern-
most Mediterranean Region, London, 273-322.
Gomez, B., H. Neff, M.L. Rautman, S.J. Vaughan and M.D. Glascock 2002. Source
provenance of Bronze Age and Roman pottery from Cyprus, Archaeometry 44,
23-36.
Gordon-Smith J. 2006. Appendix v: Thin Sections, in: R. S. Gabrieli, Silent Witnesses:
The Evidence of Domestic Wares of the 13th-19th Centuries in Paphos, Cyprus, for
Local Economy and Social Organisation, unpubl. PhD thesis, University of Sydney.
Goren Y. 1997. Excavation of the courthouse site at Acre: Preliminary petrographic
analysis of the ceramic assemblage, ‘Atiqot 31, 71-74.
Goren, Y. Sh. Bunimovitz, I Finkelstein and N Na’Aman 2003. The location of
Alashiya: New evidence from petrographic investigation of Alashiyan tablets from
El-Amarna and Ugarit, American Journal of Archaeology 107, 233-55.
Green, J.R., R.S. Gabrieli, H.K.A. Cook, E.J. Stern, B. McCall and E. Lazer 2014.
Paphos 8 August 1303: Snapshot of a Destruction, Nicosia.
Jones, R.E. 1986. Greek and Cypriot pottery: A Review of Scientific Studies, Fitch Lab-
oratory Occasional Paper 1, Athens.
MacLaurin Hemsley, L. 1991. Techniques of village pottery production, in: J.A. Bar-
low, D.L. Bolger and B. Kling (eds.) Cypriot Ceramics: Reading the Prehistoric
Record, Philadelphia, 215-20.
134

Megaw, A.H.S. 1971. Excavations at ‘Saranda Kolones’, Paphos: Preliminary report on the
1966-67 and 1970-71 seasons, Report of the Department of Antiquities Cyprus, 117-46.
Megaw, A.H.S. and R.E. Jones 1983. Byzantine and allied pottery: A contribution
by chemical analysis to problems of origin and distribution, Annual of the British
School at Athens 78, 235-63.
Mottram, H.R., S.N. Dudd, G.J. Lawrence, A.W. Stott and R.P. Evershed. 1999. New
chromatographic, mass spectrometric and stable isotope approaches to the clas-
sification of degraded animal fats preserved in archaeological pottery, Journal of
Chromatography A 833, 209-21.
Pecci, A. 2006. Rivestimenti organici nelle ceramiche medievali: un accorgimento
tecnologico ‘invisibile’?, Archeologia Medievale 23, 517-23.
Pecci, A. 2009. Analisi funzionali della ceramica e alimentazione medievale, Archeo-
logia Medievale 36, 21-42.
Pecci, A., M.Á. Cau Ontiveros, C. Valdambrini, F. Inserra 2013a. Understanding
residues of oil production: Chemical analyses of floors in traditional mills in the
Western Mediterranean, Journal of Archaeological Science 40, 883-93.
Pecci A., G. Giorgi, L. Salvini, M.A. Cau 2013b. Identifying wine markers in ceramics
and plasters with gas chromatography – mass spectrometry. Experimental, ethno-
archaeological and archaeological materials, Journal of Archaeological Science 40,
109-15.
Pecci, A., R.S. Gabrieli, F. Inserra, M.A. Cau and S.Y. Waksman 2016. Prelimi-
nary results of the organic residue analysis of 13th century cooking wares from
Paphos (Cyprus), Science and Technology of Archaeological Research (2016). doi:
10.1080/20548923.2016.1183960.
Picon, M. 1985. A propos de l’origine des amphores massaliètes: méthodes et résultats,
Documents d’Archéologie Méridionale 8, 119-31.
Picon, M. 1987. La fixation du baryum et du strontium par les céramiques, Revue
d’Archéométrie 11, 41-47.
Picon, M. 1995. Grises et grises: Quelques réflexions sur les céramiques cuites en mode
B, in: 1.as Jornadas de Cerâmica Medieval e Pós-Medieval – métodos e resultados
para o seu estudo, Porto, Maio, 283-92.
Picon, M. and F. Blondé 2002. Les résultats d’un programme d’analyses effectué sur
l’île de Chypre, in: F. Blondé, P. Ballet and J.-F. Salles (eds.), Céramiques hellénis-
tiques et romaines. Productions et diffusion en Méditerranée orientale (Chypre,
Egypte et côte syro-palestinienne), Travaux de la Maison de l’ Orient et de la Médi-
terranée 35, Lyon, 12-21.
Rautman, M.L., B. Gomez, H. Neff and M.D. Glascock 1993. Neutron activation
analysis of Late Roman ceramics from Kalavasos-Kopetra and the environs of
135

the Vasilikos valley, Report of the Department of Antiquities, Cyprus (rdac) 1993,

233-64.
Rosser, J. 1987. The Lusignan castle at Paphos called Saranda Kolones, in: D.W. Rupp
(ed.) Western Cyprus Connections. An Archaeological Symposium Held at Brock
University, St. Catherines, Ontario, Canada, March 21-22, 1986. Göteborg, 185-97.
Shapiro, A. 2012. Petrographic analysis of the Crusader-period pottery, in: E.J. Stern,
‘Akko I: The 1991-1998 Excavations: The Crusader-Period Pottery, Part i, Israel Aan-
tiquities Authority Reports 51, Jerusalem, 103-26.
Stern, E.J. 1997. The pottery of the Crusader and Ottoman periods, ‘Atiqot 31, 35-70.
Stern, E.J. and S.Y. Waksman 2003. Pottery from recent excavations in Crusader Acre
: typological and analytical study, in: Ch. Bakirtzis (ed.), Actes du viie Congrès
International sur la Céramique Médiévale en Méditerranée, Thessalonique, 11-16
octobre 1999, Athens, 167-80.
Stern, E.J., A. Shapiro, S.Y. Waksman forthcoming. The impact of the Crusades on
ceramic production and use in the Southern Levant: Continuity or change?, in :
S.Y. Waksman (ed.), Multidisciplinary Approaches to Food and Foodways in the Me-
dieval Eastern Mediterranean, Travaux de la Maison de l’ Orient et de la Méditer-
ranée, Lyon.
Twining, K. 1996. Origin of plagiogranite in the Troodos ophiolite, Cyprus, Ninth
Keck Research Symposium in Geology, Williamstown, ma, 245-48.
Walley, C.D. The Geology of Lebanon: A Summary, American University of Beirut.
Available at: (http://ddc.aub.edu.lb/projects/geology/geology-of-lebanon) (date
last checked 30/12/2015.
Waksman, S.Y. 2002. Céramiques levantines de l’époque des Croisades: le cas des pro-
ductions à pâte rouge des ateliers de Beyrouth, Revue d’Archéométrie 26, 67-77.
Waksman, S.Y. 2011. Ceramics of the ‘Serçe Limanı type’ and Fatimid pottery produc-
tion in Beirut, Levant 43.2, 201-12.
Waksman, S.Y. 2014. Archaeometric approaches to ceramics production and imports
in Medieval Cyprus, in: D. Papanikola-Bakirtzi and N. Coureas (eds.), Cypriot
Medieval Ceramics: Reconsiderations and New Perspectives, Nicosia, 257-77.
Waksman, S.Y., E.J. Stern, I. Segal, N. Porat and J. Yellin 2008. Elemental and petro-
graphic analyses of local and imported ceramics from Crusader Acre, ‘Atiqot 59,
157-90.
136

fig. 2 – Plan of Paphos with the three sites marked (Paphos Theatre Excavation Project, University
of Sydney).
137

fig. 3 – Levantine pan/baking dishes, classified according to petrographic and elemental analyses:
Beirut group (top), others (bottom) (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 4 – Levantine cooking pots, Beirut group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after Waksman
2014 and Gabrieli 2008).
138

fig. 5 – Cypriot pan/baking dishes, classified according to petrographic and elemental analyses: main
Cypriot group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 6 – Cypriot cooking pots, main Cypriot group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after
Gabrieli 2008).
139

fig. 7 – Cypriot cooking pots and jugs, main Cypriot group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and
after Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 8 – Classification of samples of Cypriot and Levantine types from Paphos according to elemental
compositions (S.Y. Waksman).
140

fig. 9 – Classification of samples of Cypriot and Levantine types from Paphos, with reference samples
for Beirut productions, according to elemental compositions (S.Y. Waksman).
141

analyses
site cat. type elemental petrographic residues figure bibliography
Lyon lab id. Bar. lab id.
Odos Ikarou p/bd L BZY 614 213 3 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 98
Odos Ikarou p/bd L BZY 615 214 3 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 99
Odos Ikarou p/bd L BZY 616 X 3 Gabrieli 2006 : OI 170
Odos Ikarou p/bd L BZY 617 215 Gabrieli 2006 : OI 100
Odos Ikarou p/bd L BZY 618 X 3 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 103
Odos Ikarou p/bd L BZY 619 3 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 97
Odos Ikarou cp L BZY 620 216 4 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 107
Odos Ikarou p/bd L? BZY 621 X 3 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 101
Odos Ikarou p/bd C BZY 622 217 5 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 90
Odos Ikarou p/bd C BZY 623 218 5 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 91
Odos Ikarou p/bd C BZY 624 X 219 5 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 92
Odos Ikarou p/bd C BZY 625 5 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 93
Odos Ikarou p/bd C BZY 626 5 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 94
Odos Ikarou j C BZY 627 7 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 145
Odos Ikarou j C BZY 628 220 7 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 151
Odos Ikarou cp C BZY 629 X 6 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 134
Odos Ikarou cp C BZY 630 222 6 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 143
Odos Ikarou cp C BZY 631 X 223 7 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 121
Odos Ikarou cp C BZY 632 6 Gabrieli 2006 : OI 171
Odos Ikarou cp C BZY 633 7 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 123
Odos Ikarou cp C BZY 634 221 7 Gabrieli 2006, 2008 : OI 172
Fabrika j C BZY 661 Green et al. 2014 : Inv.3410
Fabrika j C BZY 662 Green et al. 2014 : Inv.3390
Fabrika cp C BZY 663 X Green et al. 2014 : Inv.3408
Saranda Kolones cp L BYZ 93 4 Waksman 2002, 2014
Saranda Kolones cp C BZY 884
Saranda Kolones p/bd L BZY 886
Saranda Kolones cp L BZY 887
Saranda Kolones cp L BZY 895
Saranda Kolones j C BZY 897
Saranda Kolones j C BZY 898
table 1 – Summary of samples analyzed. Abbreviations: (category) cp: cooking pot, p/bd: pan/bak-
ing dish, j: jug; (types) L: Levantine, C: Cypriot; (analysis) Bar: Barcelona (S.Y. Waksman).
142

Lab nb. site cat. CaO Fe 2 O 3 TiO 2 K 2O SiO 2 Al 2 O 3 MgO MnO (Na 2 O) (P 2 O 5) Zr Sr (Rb) Zn Cr Ni Ba V (Ce)
Beirut imports
BYZ 93 S cp 0.85 7.89 1.730 0.37 76.37 11.96 0.53 0.0499 < l.q. 0.08 530 50 36 64 122 66 110 116 73
BYZ 95 S cp 0.82 7.93 1.739 0.37 76.27 12.04 0.52 0.0494 < l.q. 0.08 528 55 35 62 120 66 123 118 68
BYZ 94 S cp 0.81 7.81 1.733 0.36 76.48 11.93 0.53 0.0525 < l.q. 0.08 523 52 35 62 117 62 123 129 75
BYZ 96 S cp 0.73 6.81 1.481 0.43 78.13 11.56 0.56 0.0625 < l.q. 0.07 484 70 37 56 102 63 121 108 79
BZY889 S p/bd 0.89 7.27 1.755 0.39 77.39 11.44 0.58 0.0421 < l.q. 0.06 541 69 24 65 252 46 111 149 71
BZY614 O p/bd 2.11 8.18 1.772 0.44 73.86 12.67 0.59 0.0919 < l.q. 0.10 518 124 35 65 159 57 167 168 78
BZY619 O p/bd 1.08 8.07 1.741 0.38 75.53 12.27 0.57 0.0943 < l.q. 0.10 538 77 35 67 141 66 173 142 71
BZY894 S cp 0.99 11.45 1.853 0.79 70.14 13.43 0.80 0.1453 0.05 0.17 504 82 36 108 175 103 222 159 91
BZY895 S cp 0.97 11.47 1.856 0.80 70.16 13.40 0.77 0.1527 0.07 0.17 525 86 36 107 169 102 244 135 95
BZY896 S cp 1.16 11.47 1.855 0.87 69.75 13.37 0.81 0.1429 0.15 0.23 509 111 36 114 175 104 297 152 83
BZY887 S cp 1.47 11.00 1.528 0.92 68.72 14.81 0.81 0.1661 0.16 0.21 425 151 41 110 199 113 225 155 95
BZY891 S p/bd 1.09 10.74 1.680 0.51 70.92 13.78 0.82 0.1679 < l.q. 0.11 479 86 38 86 161 104 253 152 110
BZY899 S cp 1.32 9.03 1.675 0.99 71.67 13.35 0.83 0.1301 0.41 0.30 475 130 43 131 160 79 288 163 89
BZY617 O p/bd 0.79 10.83 1.689 0.60 71.38 13.70 0.66 0.0999 < l.q. 0.07 473 73 43 83 152 90 157 144 78
BZY886 S p/bd 0.89 9.72 1.662 0.70 72.43 12.97 0.72 0.1005 0.40 0.21 500 78 36 99 159 80 178 150 86
BZY615 O p/bd 0.87 9.32 1.699 0.55 73.44 13.09 0.68 0.0872 < l.q. 0.09 505 84 37 72 148 90 165 142 67
BZY620 O cp 1.17 8.83 1.450 0.56 74.82 12.08 0.69 0.1043 < l.q. 0.09 448 72 39 75 119 84 238 101 78
BZY890 S p/bd 1.54 8.90 1.403 0.54 73.86 12.35 0.76 0.1297 0.10 0.22 460 157 31 90 158 89 201 153 81
BZY885 S cp 0.95 11.20 1.596 1.27 68.64 14.66 0.85 0.0877 0.34 0.19 460 144 34 100 175 95 201 147 92
Cypriot types
BZY630 O cp 5.02 8.67 0.395 1.15 53.77 23.29 6.43 0.1039 0.90 0.19 36 332 15 53 115 73 58 193 < l.q.
BZY632 O cp 5.07 8.47 0.342 1.09 52.59 24.75 6.73 0.1022 0.67 0.10 40 317 17 45 120 78 55 187 < l.q.
BZY629 O cp 5.16 8.42 0.295 1.45 53.37 23.56 6.62 0.1001 0.73 0.20 32 381 15 54 122 66 59 187 < l.q.
BZY625 O p/bd 4.90 8.61 0.314 1.33 53.75 23.47 6.65 0.0952 0.63 0.15 36 302 18 51 225 89 69 186 < l.q.
BZY627 O j 4.51 8.29 0.290 1.10 53.21 25.42 6.13 0.1091 0.71 0.12 47 329 17 44 147 96 65 158 31
BZY626 O p/bd 4.71 8.28 0.239 0.64 51.77 26.17 6.99 0.1205 0.52 0.04 41 216 15 44 128 87 55 155 26
BZY634 O cp 4.79 8.30 0.352 0.84 53.19 24.71 6.99 0.1016 0.55 0.07 46 215 19 40 224 91 83 180 26
BZY622 O p/bd 5.19 8.11 0.422 0.78 54.19 23.36 6.71 0.0875 1.02 0.04 39 259 11 27 133 76 38 184 < l.q.
BZY893 S cp 5.42 9.19 0.263 0.42 52.18 24.46 7.17 0.1121 0.61 0.09 22 260 12 43 88 81 91 188 < l.q.
BZY888 S cp 4.90 9.14 0.357 0.53 53.06 24.40 6.54 0.1110 0.71 0.13 37 401 14 45 171 85 151 184 < l.q.
BZY635 O cp 5.58 7.19 0.190 1.04 52.92 23.62 8.55 0.1013 0.57 0.13 22 307 14 44 274 107 45 145 < l.q.
BZY663 F cp 4.54 8.92 0.350 1.93 52.06 23.42 7.34 0.1083 0.97 0.25 48 236 21 49 235 107 65 200 32
BZY662 F j 4.01 9.45 0.476 1.78 53.56 23.14 6.25 0.1183 0.99 0.12 61 179 25 63 182 94 90 195 21
BZY636 O cp 4.15 9.23 0.425 1.52 52.51 25.91 5.27 0.1296 0.68 0.07 80 233 27 58 228 138 117 188 29
BZY661 F j 4.90 8.51 0.269 1.67 52.89 22.64 7.91 0.1473 0.77 0.17 42 214 17 49 265 118 92 156 < l.q.
BZY631 O cp 5.40 10.20 0.380 1.26 52.10 21.53 8.38 0.1123 0.46 0.06 32 202 15 43 310 95 36 229 < l.q.
BZY624 O p/bd 4.62 10.23 0.573 1.21 54.12 21.71 6.12 0.1218 1.04 0.16 51 230 19 57 105 71 82 251 < l.q.
BZY628 O j 4.93 10.01 0.472 1.18 53.31 22.45 6.30 0.1139 0.95 0.19 38 221 17 72 107 76 61 254 < l.q.
BZY623 O p/bd 3.98 9.87 0.411 1.30 52.63 24.52 5.99 0.1070 1.01 0.10 39 218 17 48 100 78 53 243 < l.q.
BZY637 O cp 4.59 9.45 0.435 1.12 53.91 22.86 6.28 0.1212 0.99 0.14 60 230 23 63 143 83 112 213 30
BZY884 S cp 5.19 9.63 0.468 1.57 51.91 20.45 8.14 0.1177 1.99 0.43 37 269 14 65 146 83 60 218 < l.q.
BZY633 O cp 5.08 10.64 0.486 1.08 53.12 20.96 7.01 0.1318 1.27 0.11 37 245 16 81 74 66 50 263 < l.q.
marginals
BZY900 S cp 5.22 10.55 0.826 1.10 55.41 21.14 4.33 0.1050 1.08 0.10 113 314 34 52 105 68 205 248 46
BZY892 S cp 5.37 11.68 0.600 0.53 52.15 22.17 5.81 0.1336 1.35 0.09 45 227 17 63 121 70 123 284 21
BZY898 S j 4.35 10.68 0.801 1.00 56.63 19.12 5.06 0.1599 2.00 0.09 85 94 26 89 107 56 101 283 31
BZY897 S j 3.48 11.64 1.033 1.14 56.37 19.75 4.61 0.1812 1.48 0.20 133 126 34 90 126 64 149 315 39
outliers
BZY621 O p/bd 2.27 7.88 0.853 2.69 61.73 21.15 1.61 0.1218 1.18 0.19 218 237 149 93 79 32 604 157 106
BZY616 O p/bd 2.62 9.56 1.044 2.49 62.81 17.86 2.04 0.1902 1.05 0.09 192 251 86 100 594 149 341 190 62
BZY618 O p/bd 3.32 8.92 0.984 2.86 63.43 16.72 2.00 0.1813 1.21 0.10 186 316 68 104 602 137 313 181 73
comparative data: sherd collected in Phini
BYZ946 4.15 10.58 0.441 0.88 51.32 23.95 6.91 0.1245 1.38 0.15 51 143 11 42 216 146 79 221 23
table 2 – Elemental compositions of the samples and comparative data, ranked as in the classification
of Fig. 8. Abbreviations: (sites) o: Odos Ikarou, s: Saranda Kolones, f: Fabrika; (categories of wares)
cp: cooking pot; p/bd: pan/baking dish, j: jug. Major and minor elements in oxide weight %, trace
elements in parts per million (ppm), l.q.: limit of quantification. Elements between brackets were not
used in the classification (S.Y. Waksman).
143

* * *
Dinner time in Athens:

Eating and drinking in the Medieval Agora
Joanita Vroom & Elli Tzavella
i n t roduct ion
One of the most renowned observations of the celebrated French anthropologist

Claude Lévi-Strauss has to be that ‘it is the conventions of society, which decree what
is food and not food, and what kinds of food shall be eaten on what occasions’.1 Al-
though digging for artefacts is, perhaps, a somewhat more down-to-earth business,
we would suggest that archaeology has a useful material contribution to offer to this
particular idea. We aim to do so by discussing the relations between urban waste (par-
ticularly ceramics from a closed archaeological context), the food repertoire, cooking
techniques and dining habits in Athenian society during the Late Middle Ages.
In order not to get lost in the vast spectrum of food-related subjects (many of
which are discussed in this volume Medieval MasterChef ), we will focus this paper on
the two following questions. The first is: what do we know about Late Medieval food-
ways, cooking manners and eating habits (including those of the Crusaders or rather
Franks) from the archaeological record, both in the eastern Mediterranean generally
and, particularly, in Greece? The second is: how can we use this information to under-
stand the finds from a well-excavated archaeological context in Athens?
Contrary to the study of foodways in the western parts of Europe, the research on
Medieval dining manners and cooking techniques in the eastern part of the Mediter-
ranean has hardly begun. Until now, these subjects have been studied only in connec-
tion to specific sites (such as Corinth and Butrint) and a few regions (such as Boeotia),
where comparisons have been undertaken between the Byzantine and Late Medieval,
or so-called ‘Frankish’, periods.2

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113481

In this article, we focus on Late Medieval (13th- to 15th-century) material which

has never before been looked at from a macro-visual examination (vessel’s shape and
dimensions, fabric and use marks) and from a cultural perspective of food prepara-
tion and food consumption. We set out to use this well-preserved ceramic repertoire,
from a closed excavated context, to shed light on eating habits and dining manners in
Athens under Latin (Frankish and Catalan) occupation. The period under discussion
covers the timespan between the mid/late-13th and mid-15th centuries.
The Frankish period started with the capture of Athens by the Franks in 1204, and
entered a new phase after the conquest of the city by the Catalans in 1311. Throughout
these years, a rich type of feudal lords ruled over the ‘Castel de Setines’, as the city was
known then.3 Among these were Burgundian, Catalan and Venetian noblemen, as
well as members of the wealthy Acciaioli family from Florence. Sons of this Tuscan
banking dynasty presided, from about 1388 to 1460, over Athens and the Propylaia
(the ancient entrance complex to the Acropolis) served as a Florentine palace at the
same time.4 The Latin occupation of Athens came to an end when the city was surren-
dered in 1458 to the forces of Sultan Mehmed ii (1432-1481), and became part of the
Ottoman Empire for centuries to come.
r ese a rch proj ect
The evidence for our paper is taken from published and unpublished material from the
Athenian Agora, which is studied on behalf of the nwo funded, vidi research project
‘Material Culture, Consumption and Social Change: New Approaches for Understand-
ing the Eastern Mediterranean during Byzantine and Ottoman Times’.5 This project
is carried out with a small team from Leiden University with some guest researchers
from other institutions.6 We continue to study, in particular, the excavated material
culture from four coastal urban centres in the eastern Mediterranean: Butrint in Al-
bania, Athens in Greece and Ephesus and Tarsus in Turkey. We look, for instance, at
long-term patterns in production, distribution, consumption and social changes on
these sites.
One of the main aims of the vidi research project is to combine archaeological ar-
tefacts, written documents and pictorial evidence as sources of information to build a
web of interdisciplinary arguments. This is a line of approach that can be fruitful from
Byzantine to Ottoman times, as is shown in earlier publications.7 In fact, the existence
of certain longue durée patterns of dining or eating habits during these periods, from
depictions of meals, seems to be supported by archaeological evidence. This is, for
example, apparent in various dining scenes in Byzantine art. The vessels and cutlery
shown in these scenes seem to be echoed in contemporary excavated objects (e.g., from
146

v ro om & t z av e l l a – di n n e r t i m e i n at h e ns
Greece, Serbia, the Crimea), offering new insights into the use and social context of
dining habits in Byzantine society.8
In After Antiquity, the differences in table manners were discussed in more detail,
from Late Antiquity to Late Ottoman times (ca. mid 7th to the late 19th centuries),
utilising a range of different methods.9 One of these methods was the measurement of
rim and base diameters of tablewares from three different periods (ranging from ‘Mid-
dle Byzantine’ to ‘Late Byzantine/Frankish’ and then to ‘Post-Medieval’ including the
Ottoman and Venetian eras).10 This was done in order to explore and link the usage
and changing sizes in open vessels to consumption patterns in the Aegean.11
This idea was further expanded by analysing twelve excavated contexts of four dif-
ferent periods, from the eastern Mediterranean, in order to calculate the changes in
height and volume of open vessels in the Byzantine tableware repertoire.12 One of the
results of this study, published in two articles in 2015 and 2016, was that the height of
these open vessels increased throughout the centuries (from Early Byzantine to Late
Byzantine times), while their volume decreased enormously.13
This trend can be further distinguished when one studies the vessels depicted in the
iconography of the period. Another perspective was thus to look at long-term changes
in depictions of eating habits and dining manners in combination with corresponding
table settings between different periods in order to distinguish longue durée patterns
of communal dining versus individual dining from the 7th to the 15th century.14
Since the Neanderthals in Prehistory certain foods need to be cooked to be considered

eatable, of course. So, besides studying the typo-chronology of glazed and decorated
tablewares, we set out to study various cooking techniques through fabric compositions
and use marks on excavated pots and, where possible, in combination with pictorial or
written evidence.15 In the case of changing pottery shapes and related cooking tech-
niques, this was demonstrable by Brittle Ware cooking jars from south-eastern Tur-
key.16 These pots showed slight shape changes from Roman to Late Antique-Umayyad
times, and then suddenly a major alteration in the Early Abbasid period.17 In order to
explain these shape changes, other sources on diet, such as archaeozoological research
(the study on faunal remains) and written documents (culinary manuals from Antique
and Early Abbasid times), were explored to explain this phenomenon.18
Another key aspect in our research was to look at patterns in diet: what were peo-
ple consuming in the past? This was, for instance, done by looking for information in
cookery books and counting the main ingredients in Late Antique, Islamic and Medi-
eval recipes.19 In addition to this, the data of the most used ingredients from different
documents can be compared across various time periods and between various regions
in the Mediterranean (see for such an approach, Fig. 1).20
147

For this paper, we have chosen the case study of a Late Medieval pottery repertoire
from a well in the Athenian Agora, which was excavated in 1972 by archaeologists of
the American School of Classical Studies at Athens (ascsa).21 In the Athenian Agora
context, we study, among other things, changes in the shapes and sizes of glazed and
unglazed fine wares as well as of coarse wares and other domestic vessels over a long
period of time ranging from the Early Byzantine through the Middle Byzantine peri-
od to Late Medieval and Ottoman times. Our aim is to distinguish long-term changes
in eating habits and dining manners. As such, the Agora well can show what kind of
pottery was used in Athens during the Late Medieval / Frankish period.22
t h e e xc avat ion con t e x t
The Athenian Agora, which has been excavated by the American School of Classical
Studies at Athens (ascsa) since the 1930s, offers valuable opportunities for a compar-
ison of changing pottery shapes and changing eating habits between different periods,
especially when taken from the perspective of an assemblage from a closed context.
The analysis presented here relies on ceramic evidence recovered during the excavation
of a well, situated in a domestic context in section PP’. This last section is located in the
eastern part of the Agora (Fig. 2).
Section PP’ revealed finds which ranged in date from Classical to Ottoman
times.23 During Late Antiquity the area was occupied by a large Late Roman and Early
Byzantine complex, which has been characterised as a ‘villa’.24 The ceramics discussed
in this paper were found in a well which was situated in the eastern part of section PP’
(Fig. 3). However, this well had structurally and functionally nothing to do with the
Late Roman – Early Byzantine villa, since it was constructed in a later period.
After the dilapidation and abandonment of the Late Roman – Early Byzantine
complex, the whole area was re-used repeatedly for domestic purposes in numerous
phases dating between the 10th and the 15th centuries (Fig. 3).25 Fragments of walls,
floors and other domestic structures were uncovered during the excavation. The ar-
chaeologists clearly stated that it was difficult to reconstruct ground plans of whole
buildings, or even rooms, from these later periods, since these later structures had
been destroyed to a large extent by modern building activities. The ceramic contexts
and the coins, however, provided some evidence of domestic service in the area regard-
ing the various periods of re-use.
It is important to know that the urban pattern of Athens, during the Late Medi-
eval/Frankish period, consisted of two distinct spatial units, also known as ‘Kastro’
and ‘Chora’.26 The first included the fortified and well-protected stronghold on the
Acropolis, where the residence of the new Latin lords was situated. The latter encircled
148

by a populous town, laid out on the northern slopes and plain. The Chora was sur-
rounded by an agricultural, pastoral and industrial area interspersed with churches,
houses and shops of merchants and artisans (like in Corinth).27 The shops and resi-
dential buildings were often located along roads entering the lower city and ascending
to the Acropolis hill. It was probably in such an expanding suburb with newly built
structures to the West, also known as the Thession area, that the well in the Ancient
Agora was excavated.28
Well U14:1 was situated in a room in section PP’ that was paved with a floor of
re-used marble slabs (Figs. 4a-b). The dimensions of the room measured 5 m by 2.5/3
m. The well U14:1 was next to the east wall of the room; its wellhead was lined with
stones, and it lay just above the floor level of Room 1. It may therefore be concluded
that the well was situated indoors. Despite the poor state of preservation of the re-
mains of the wall in Section PP’, we think it is safe to hypothesize that both the well
and Room 1 belonged to a larger building, probably a house. It may also be hypoth-
esized that the pottery found in the well represents debris used in this building, and
perhaps also in the surrounding buildings.
The well had a diameter of 1.20 m, and was cut into bedrock (Fig. 5). It was exca-
vated to a depth of 8 m, but continued further down. Its excavation stopped before
reaching the bottom, due to the danger of collapse. The lower levels of the well, from
the lowermost excavated level to a height of 2.60 m from the reached bottom, yielded
pottery of the 4th century BC. At 2.60 m from the deepest point of the excavation the
fill became harder, and immediately above the Classical level Late Medieval pottery
was found, dating from the 13th to the 15th centuries. This was found in all contexts
to the top of the feature. In the upper level, circa 50 cm from the top, a coin was re-
covered: this turned out to be a Venetian tornesello of the 14th-15th centuries (Fig. 5).
Another coin was found lower in the same level, between -0.60 m and -1.10 m. It was
issued by the Byzantine Emperor Manuel i (1143-1180), and was probably of residual
character (Fig. 5). The Venetian tornesello can be used as a terminus post quem for the
date when the well was disused and filled with soil and debris.
t h e ce r a m ic f i n ds: som e qua n t i t i es
The material from the top context of well U14:1 is packed in the Agora storage rooms
in two boxes and ten tins. The pottery finds from these boxes and tins consist of 504
ceramic fragments, some of which were mended after the excavation to create 15 whole
vessels (Table 1). The statistical analysis of the ceramic material shows that the majori-
ty found from the well consists of body fragments (54.9%), bases (21.6%), rims (17.9%)
and handles (5.8%) (Fig. 6a).
149

Furthermore, the finds show that 60.5% of the total belong to unglazed jugs and
jars (described in the pie chart as ‘light utility’), as expected for pottery found in a
well (Fig. 6b). Almost 30% of the total consists of tableware, which could have been
dumped during phases of disuse. Transport jars (amphorae) (2.7%), coarse wares
(4.8%) and lamps (2.5%) constitute only small percentages of the total finds from this
well. The vast majority of the pottery (91.7% of the total) can be dated to the Late Me-
dieval period (ca. 13th-15th centuries), while only a few sherds (8.3%) date to the Middle
Byzantine era (ca. 11th-12th centuries). One may assume that the well was already in
use in Middle Byzantine times. Part of the recovered pottery (especially the closed
vessels in good condition) was probably used in the well and fell to its bottom, while
other fragments were probably dumped with soil after its disuse.
Macro-visual examination of the fabrics with a hand lens shows that the vast ma-
jority of the vessels are of local, or regional, provenance (Fig. 6c; Table 1).29 Vessels of
certain local Athenian manufacture comprise half of the total (51%); while vessels
which probably were manufactured in Athens or in its wider region (among which
the eastern part of mainland Greece or the north-eastern Peloponnese) comprises of
another 41.2%. Imports from further away constitutes only 3.6% of the total. This
indicates that ceramic use and consumption in the Late Medieval Agora took place
with mostly local or regional products.
pottery type fabric shape decoration function total

Unglazed Coarse orange; Jug with Occasionally Beverage consumption 5
Coarse Ware sometimes with strainer; jug some incised and distribution;
grey core; fired with trefoil rim; lines Liquid storage and
unevenly jug with spout preparation (burnt on
one side)
Unglazed Medium coarse; Amphora Liquid storage (and 2
Plain Ware; fine orange-red (lagena); transport?)
Decorated stopper/lid
Glazed Ware
(local)
Monochrome Coarse orange- Beaker; very Glazed Food/ liquid 2
Glazed Ware red small bowl consumption and
(local) distribution (small
portions)
Decorated Fine orange Bowls in various Glazed; Food/liquid 3
Glazed Ware sizes Sgraffito consumption and
(local) distribution (varying
portions)
Decorated Fine orange; Small bowl, Glazed; Painted Food consumption and 3
Glazed Ware dark orange bowl, dish distribution (small to
(import) medium portions)
table 1 – Athenian Agora: ceramic finds with complete profiles from well U14:1 ( J. Vroom).
150

Among the Late Medieval types, half of the total (50%) consists of Unglazed Domes-
tic Wares, such as jugs and jars (Fig. 6d). Next to this group, a considerable percentage
(22%) are unglazed jugs with a spout, used for storing and pouring liquids (the so-
called ibriq).30 Another 20% includes glazed tableware, among which include ‘Zeux-
ippus Ware Subtypes’ (9.8%) and Monochrome Glazed Wares (10%).
In fact, a considerable number of vessels found in the well (9.8%) are glazed bowls
of local production with incised concentric circles decorating the interior bottom (Fig.
7; see also Fig. 8a, no. 5). These last vessels can be grouped in the so-called ‘Zeuxippus
Ware Subtype’ category, dating to the late 13th and 14th centuries.31 Two more com-
plete Zeuxippus Subtype vessels are 6 cm high, and have a rim diameter of nearly 15
cm. Consequently, these bowls could have contained only one portion of food, or they
could have been used for drinking.32 A Polychrome Sgraffito dish with an incised star-
like decoration and added green and brown colours is of a larger size (Fig. 7). This dish
is 13 cm high and has a rim diameter of 25.3 cm. It could have been either used at the
table for the sharing of food by several diners, or for the serving of food.
A monochrome glazed beaker/jug with a pinched-in spout, flat base and one han-
dle appears only as one item in the well (Fig. 7). There is a yellow glaze on the interior,
part way down the exterior and on top of the handle. The beaker could have been used
both as a drinking utensil at the table, and for serving and pouring liquids next to the
table. In addition, a very small monochrome glazed bowl with mottled brown glaze
was recovered (Fig. 7 right). There is pitted yellow lead glaze on the interior, but its
exterior is unglazed. It may have been used as a small table container to store and serve
spices (such as pepper and salt) or other condiments.
Finally, a base fragment of a glazed bowl with a fish moulded in relief on the inside
was recovered in the well. It was deliberately broken on all sides shown by clear cut
marks, making it thus of a circular shape, and its foot was chipped off. Its secondary
use was probably as a stopper on a closed vessel (such as on a jug or on an amphora).
t h e ce r a m ic f i n ds: u ngl a z e d con ta i n e r s
Three groups of unglazed containers, specifically jugs in local coarse fabrics, were re-
covered from well U14:1 in section PP’. The first category of jugs has an ovoid body,
one handle and a narrow cylindrical neck (Fig. 8, nos. 8-10; Fig. 8b, back; Table 1). The
base is not completely flat, but slightly convex similar to sagging bases.33 The advan-
tage of the base shape is that the jug cannot be turned upside down by mistake. When
tipped, the jug tumbles, but soon returns again to its upright position. One of these
jugs even bears a strainer in the interior, at the base of the neck. The strainer consists of
a piece of clay filling the full diameter of neck and pierced by six holes, arranged with
151

five around the circumference and one in the centre. The surface of these jugs does not
bear any traces of use over fire. We suggest, therefore, that they were probably used for
the storing, serving and pouring of liquids. Furthermore, the convex base indicates
that they were often not used on the table but on a slightly uneven surface, like an
earth ground floor.
Vessels in this jug category have been excavated, up until now, in Corinth, where
they have been called ‘sieve-mouthed jars’.34 Although their bases are flat and they bear
two handles, the shape of the neck, the body and the strainer seems to be very simi-
lar to the Athenian jugs from well U14:1. The Corinthian ones can be dated to just
before or during the reign of William Villehardouin (1245-1278), Prince of Achaia.35
Furthermore, the upper part of a jug, with a similar shape and fabric to the Athenian
ones, has been found during the excavation of a monastery at Agios Nikolaos, Kantza,
in eastern Attica.36
The second category of unglazed jugs has a flat base, a piriform body (narrower at
the top and broader at the bottom), and a broad neck which ends into a trefoil-shaped
mouth (Fig. 7 upper right; Fig. 8a, no. 7; Fig. 8b, front; Table 1). These jugs bear traces
of burning on the outside, mostly on their body (towards the base), and specifically
on the side which has the handle. They must have been used to boil liquids, or at least
keep them warm in a fireplace. They could have been placed next to fire, charcoals or a
hearth, which blackened the nearest side surface. In this position the handle projected
out of the fireplace/hearth, and was as such kept cool for handling. A similar looking
jug, in a coarse ware fabric, was recently identified at the rescue excavations of Orion-
os Street in nearby Chalkis.37 In addition, the shape also occurs often in 13th-century
Corinth, not in a cooking ware fabric but rather as plain ware in a finer fabric and dec-
orated with a matt-painted decoration.38
The third category is represented by an unglazed jug made of a coarse fabric, which
must have been suitable for cooking (Fig. 7 second from upper right; Table 1). It has a
flat base (slightly convex on the bottom), an ovoid body, one vertical strap handle and
a narrow cylindrical neck which bears a strainer (now broken) on the inside. The body
bears, on the other side from the handle, a small irregular hole for a (now missing)
spout, which must have been broken off. The coarse fabric, in combination with the
burning traces all over the exterior surface, attest to the use of this jug as a boiling
container for liquids or for liquid foods on, or near, fire.
Finally, another type of unglazed container, in a porous buff fabric, was found in the
well (Table 1). It concerns a large two-handled vessel, or lageni (‘table’ amphora) as it is
known in Byzantine sources.39 The vessel is broken, because one handle, the base and
much of the ovoid body are missing. There are strokes of dark lead glaze on the exterior
body, which seem to have dripped unintentionally on this vessel in the kiln during firing,
152

undoubtedly with other glazed pots. This container from well U14:1 was probably not
used for transportation, because its walls are too thin and fragile, so its function must
have been for the storage of liquids.40 Lagenia started being used extensively during the
Late Medieval/Frankish period (probably due to influences in Italy, where such contain-
ers were recovered at numerous sites).41 A similar example, with a similar looking shape
but with a matt-painted decoration, was found in a 13th-century context in Corinth.42
t h e ce r a m ic f i n ds: i m port e d wa r es
The date of the ceramic assemblage from well U14:1 is attested to by a number of im-
ported glazed vessels, which were found together with the afore mentioned Venetian
tornesello of the 14th-15th centuries. Noteworthy are three imported vessels from the
western Mediterranean, from Italy and Spain.
The first one is a small bowl of ‘Roulette Ware’ from the Veneto region, that is
also known in Italy as ‘Graffita spirale-cerchio’ (Table 1; see also Fig. 8a, nos. 1-2).43 The
bowl can be roughly dated to the late 13th- and 14th- centuries. Roulette Ware occurs
at various Italian sites during the 14th- century.44 It has also been reported at Corinth
(where it occurs in contexts of the late 13th- and the early 14th- centuries)45, Agionori,
Argos, Glarentza, Chlemoutsi, Athens, Chania, Herakleion, Ephesus, Epirus, Butrint
and Stari Bar.46
The second imported vessel is a base fragment of polychrome painted Archaic Maiol-
ica from Italy (Fig. 7; Table 1).47 The bowl is broken on all sides, and we managed to
find a joining fragment in one of the other storage tins. The interior is decorated with a
triangular shield in the centre, outlined in bluish-green with its interior decorated with
rows of purple-brown lozenges on a white ground. Due to its dark red fabric, its glazed
exterior and its decoration of imbrication motifs, the piece is likely to be a product from
a ‘Maiolica arcaica’ workshop and probably made in Pisa.48 The painted decoration (in
brown and green) is quite refined, and seems to belong to the earliest manufacture of
Pisan Maiolica arcaica (second half of the13th to the early 14th century).
It is undoubtedly a ‘special’ piece, perhaps even commissioned by a well-to-do
household, because it is decorated on the inside with a coat of arms (which is appar-
ently not common for the Pisan workshops). Its lozenged shield, in two contrasting
colours, seems to have similarities with the Benedetti family from Verona or Venice
(in gold and brown) or with the Pelogotti family from Florence (in gold and blue). The
first family supposedly immigrated to Venice before the 13th century from Acre in the
Near East, while the most famous descendant of the second family was the Florentine
merchant Francesco Balducci Pegolotti (ca. 1310-1347) and writer of La Practica della
mercatura (compiled between 1335 and 1343).49
153

Coats of arms became more commonly painted on Italian ceramic vessels in

this period, indicating ownership.50 Excavations in the city of Lecce in Apulia, for
instance, yielded ceramic vessels which can be dated to between the 14th and 16th
centuries, with identifiable coats of arms of the noblest and most powerful princely
families from the city and from Late Medieval Italy. We can distinguish, for instance,
tableware with painted heraldic devices of the families Orsini, Chiaromonte, Alvarez
de Toledo and Enghien-Brienne.51 In Athens, we may further notice the initials and
the families’ coats of arms of two Italian noblemen, Lorenzo Spinola and Francesco
Acciaioli from Florence, on a 15th-century fresco from the Profitis Elias church next
to the ‘Virgin Mary of the Catalans’, showing the activities of Florentines in this city.52
Then again, we must also keep in mind that some of these heraldic motifs were unof-
ficial and even fake, and apparently designed for minor nobility or upstart ‘bourgeois’
families in the Late Middle Ages.53
Apart from the two Italian imports, the Agora well also yielded a dish of Spanish
Lustreware of the late 14th to the early 15th century, which was probably made in
Valencia (Fig. 7; Table 1).54 The interior is covered with a white glaze, and decorated
with an octagon and a reserved rosette in a brownish lustre glaze. The zone above the
octagon is enclosed by a blue circle. Two sets of blue lines loop down from the outer
blue circle towards the centre crossing each other. Although imported vessels, such as
Roulette Ware and Spanish Lustreware, were indeed found in small quantities in well
U14:1 (only 2% and 1.6% of the total), they helped nonetheless with establishing the
dating of the material from the upper layers between the mid/late 13th and the late
14th/early 15th centuries (see Fig. 6d).
Imported Late Medieval pottery from Italy and Spain is not so commonly found
in Athens.55 Until now, only one rim fragment of Proto-Maiolica from southern Italy
(dated to the mid-13th to the mid-14th century) was recognised in another context in
the Athenian Agora.56 As a comparison, imported Italian tablewares of this period
were found in substantial quantities on various Frankish sites in the Peloponnese and
in central Greece (e.g., Corinth, Isthmia, Argos, Chlemoutzi, Glarentza, Patras, Tripi,
Thebes, Arta, Palaiokatouna, four Boeotian sites, Crete), or were immured in several
churches (e.g., Gastouni, Merbaka, Palaiokastro on Kythera).57 Apparently, Athens
under Frankish rule was not a key market for these ceramic imports from the West.
discussion of t h e food r e pe rtoi r e
The question is now to get some idea about what was consumed from the dishes, bowls
and jugs recovered from well U14:1, in the Agora. And the additional challenge is to
find out whether it is possible to use the ceramic finds from this well to reconstruct a
154

Late Medieval meal typical of Athens under Frankish rule. To what extent is it indeed
possible to link changing pottery shapes, to changing food customs or to changing
dietary practices in this time period?
As the Agora well can be considered as a time capsule, its contents can provide
valuable information about the disposal of urban waste in Late Medieval Athens. A
clear example of combining waste to food manners is, for instance, presented by the
material found in a large rubbish pit in a small courtyard at the Medieval Castle of La-
gopesole in Basilicata, which was a frequently used as a summer residence by the An-
gevin Kings.58 This pit yielded coins, glass vessels, food waste (mostly animal bones)
as well as ceramics for use in the kitchen and on the table; this provided considerable
evidence about the eating habits of the second half of the 13th and first quarter of the
14th century. In fact, the variety of discarded vessels discovered in a closed context
(such as in wells and pits), in combination with written sources and pictorial evidence,
may give us a glimpse into eating and drinking customs within a certain region during
the Middle Ages.59
Unfortunately, as far as we know, neither organic remains nor glass, metal or
wooden utensils were found in the Athenian well.60 Nevertheless, a recent investi-
gation on archaeozoological assemblages from other wells and household contexts in
the Agora, shows a reliance on domesticated food taxa of adult animals. This study
shows an increase on sheep/goat (for wool, milk and secondary products) and pigs
(for meat) and a sharp decline in the frequency of cattle (used as work animals), during
Byzantine times (i.e., 9th-14th centuries).61 The skeletal remains show domestic food
and animal-processing waste of local slaughter, processing and cooking in courtyards,
as opposed to rubbish from commercial or industrial contexts (such as shops or butch-
ers). Equids were probably not consumed, as their bones display no cut or saw marks.62
For the 13th and 14th centuries in particular, we may also notice an increase in the fre-
quency of juvenile domestic fowl (gallus gallus) for urban household consumption.63
Due to the lack of detailed archaeobotanical research for the later periods in the
Agora,64 indications can further be found in written documents such as Late Medie-
val cookery books, account books and letters.65 Although these documents primarily
reflect elite practices (for the literate strata of society), they are still the foremost writ-
ten sources of information about Late Medieval wining and dining.66
When looking at Late Medieval collections of food recipes from the Mediterranean,
those written in Italian appear to show the widest range of prepared dishes.67 An
interesting example, for instance, is the cookery book (Libro della cocina) by an anon-
ymous Tuscan writer that can be dated in the late 14th or early 15th century (which is
the period of our Athenian ceramic repertoire).68 This volume contains circa 177 reci-
155

pes with an emphasis on vegetables and meat (Table 2). The complicated dishes in this
cookery book were not so much for a daily roast, but rather for elaborate meat recipes
(such as stuffed hens, pastries and stuffed stomachs), accompanied by sauces made of
liver. Vegetable recipes were also needed, especially for cabbage, greens, leeks, turnips,
peas and beans. Among the meat dishes, chicken and fowl seem to be well-represented
in this Tuscan cookbook.
recipes total
Vegetables 64
Stuffed pasta and organs 14
Pastries 13
Chicken 9
Fowl 8
Stuffed meats 8
Sea food 8
Sauces 7
Broths 6
Hare 2
Dishes for invalids 16
Miscellaneous 22
table 2 – Recipes from the Cookery Book (Libro della Cocina) by an anonymous Tuscan writer,
dated to the late 14th or early 15th century ( J. Vroom; after Faccioli 1966).
In fact, chicken was a common food on most Crusader sites, especially in the Holy Land.
A farmhouse at Har Hozevim, for instance, provided not only built coops for raising
chicken but also provided a lot of birds for chicken consumption.69 Furthermore, chick-
en bones were found at excavations in Yokne’am, at Baisan/Beth She’an and at Hospi-
taller Belmont Castle.70 At the latter, at least 1457 chicken bones were recovered among
the domestic fowl remains next to a few fragments of geese, pigeon and partridge.71
We may also distinguish more chicken consumption in Late Medieval Italian rec-
ipes. When compared to earlier Byzantine recipes, we suddenly see new ingredients
such as spices, sugar, almonds, lard, cloves, saffron, ginger, eggs and chicken (see Fig.
1 below).72 The markedly increased use of chicken meat and eggs in Late Medieval
Italy is confirmed by other written documents as well as by archaeological evidence,
for instance by the animal remains found in a waste pit at the Castle of Lagopesole in
Basilicata.73 The food waste from feasts organised by the Angevin Kings in this castle
included the remains of at least 1433 chickens and 32 scattered skeletons of other birds
(like geese, pigeons and quails). Taken together, the remains of poultry constitute the
largest percentage (29.4%) of the total animal bones found in the contexts of the peri-
od between 1266 and 1315.74
156

In addition, the uses of Mediterranean herbs, Mediterranean spices, Asian spices

and of salt shows substantial differences between the recipes of the Byzantine era and
the Late Middle Ages.75 Apparently, the Italian recipes of the 14th century became
more complicated, using an unknown variety of herbs and spices, especially Asian
spices including cloves, ginger, cinnamon, pepper and nutmeg. It is interesting to note
that precisely these ingredients of the Italian cookbook are to be found in accounts of
the wedding feast of Philip of Savoy and Isabella de Villehardouin in Rome in 1301.76
Another informative source is the archive of the 14th-century Tuscan merchant

Francesco di Marco Datini (ca. 1335 – 16 August 1410), born at Prato.77 Five hundred
account books and one hundred and fifty thousand papers relating to him and his wife
Margherita Bandini (1348-1410) were discovered in 1870, in a stairwell of the couple’s
mansion in Prato. These papers not only provide a peek into Francesco’s business, but
also show food practices of the Italian merchant class between the late 14th and early
15th centuries. We learn from the couple’s letters that they ate only twice a day: around
9 or 10 in the morning, a cooked meal (desinare), and at sunset, a lean dinner (cena).
They preferred fresh, fat food of good quality and of abundant quantity. We learn
about their use of homemade bread, lasagna, ravioli, (sweetened) rice, vegetables, figs,
peaches, nuts, as well as meat (chicken, game, veal) and fish covered with rich sauces.78
Most dishes were indeed richly spiced: among which bouillon (made of chicken or
fowl) mixed with sauce of ground almonds, cinnamon, cloves and ginger, and topped
with cheese and sugar. The table was ordered to be nicely decked and the dining room
clean.79 Datini not only ordered elaborately decorated table-settings for conspicuous
consumption, but actually also ate ‘little swallows’ from a Maiolica plate.80
In order to find out what kinds of food and drink became common among the
Franks in the eastern Mediterranean, we can also turn to 14th and 15th century col-
lections of recipes written in French.81Among these are some Late Medieval cookery
books, such as Le Viandier (‘the one who nourishes’) by Guillaume Tirel (nicknamed
Taillevent) composed between 1370 and 1391,82 Le Ménagier de Paris (The Housekeep-
er of Paris) from 1392/3 and Le Vivendier composed between 1420 and 1440.83 One
distinct change in these cookery manuals is that not so much honey, but sugar, was
used in some of the recipes. This last product was, by then, a very costly ingredient in
Medieval cuisine that the Crusaders learned to produce in large quantities in Cyprus
and in the Near East.84
In addition, many recipes were ‘international’ (often coming from the Middle East
to Europe) and common to diverse countries with slight regional changes. Among
these was a dish bramagere or blancmanger, a kind of slightly sweet casserole of chick-
en and rice (the predecessor of the Turkish dessert Tavuk Göğsü).85 We see further
157

recipes prepared with novel ‘exotic’ ingredients, such as rice, pasta (minestra asciutta),
ground almonds, fruits (pomegranates, dates, figs, citrus fruit) and delicate spices (saf-
fron, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg).86 White bread, baked from wheat flour and sugar,
was created for the upper classes with other delicacies from the East including sorbet,
‘gingerbread’ cookies and fruit conserves. The Hospitaller Rule refers to the provision
of white bread for the poor and sick in the hospitals.87 Bread was often baked in large
ovens in every medium-/ large-sized castle and house.88
Le Ménagier de Paris describes the work of a cook by his source of heat: the fireplace
or hearth, which was constructed with a hooded chimney against a wall in the main
room of the house. Similar chimney-fireplaces have been excavated until now in Mod-
ern Israel (at Al-Kurum), as well as in Greece (in Corinth and Chlemoutzi Castle). In
fact, in most buildings and castles of the late 13th and early 14th centuries, we notice
the sudden appearance of hearths and fireplaces, consisting of low, raised rectangular
platforms.89 The unglazed jugs, from the Agora well, seem to be perfect utensils for
warming liquids near such hearths or fireplaces. Because of their coarse fabric, they
were adapted to be placed near to a fire or on a flat surface, perhaps next to or within
a hearth. Placed in that way, the heat was applied to these vessels from one side, and
their thinner walls facilitated its distribution equally over the entire contents.90 Thin-
walled 14th century cooking pots from Lecce (known as pignatte) were, for instance,
were found together with organic finds including figs and grapes.91 Traces of use on
these pots further suggests slow and long cooking of delicate vegetal dishes or semi-liq-
uids near or next to a fire, perhaps for the preparation of composts, comfits (like jelly
or marmalade) or defrutum (reduced wine).92
Pictures from Late Medieval manuscripts show that such jugs and jars were indeed
put next to the fire or near the fire, presupposing more formal kitchen architecture
and stability of cooking areas (such as fixed built hearths).93 Moving the jar to the edge
of the heat (and away from the smoke) was often suitable for delicate dishes that re-
quired slow cooking with steam or moisture, or for keeping liquids and (semi-) liquid
foods warm – even to the point that the substance was bubbling or boiling up to the
rim.94 These later thin-walled cooking pots, used for delicate dishes or (semi-) liquids,
were perhaps a useful addition in the kitchen to large metal cauldrons for boiling and
stewing.
The Ménagier de Paris and Datini’s letters also give us an insight into the eating
habits of the well-to-do classes during the Late Middle Ages. The higher their status,
the more food (that is to say, fattened meat) diners ate at a single meal.95 The flavour
of certain foods changed beyond recognition in this period through extreme spicing,
as well as in colour and form. Due toof hygienic reasons and a bad dental condition,
158

food was cooked for a long time but food that was repeatedly reheated was considered
for the lower classes.
discussion of t h e ta bl e wa r e r e pe rtoi r e
Changes in table manners took place in the Mediterranean during Late Medieval
times, as can be seen in the 14th and 15th century painted dining scenes from Italy, and
more to the East, from Late Byzantine art (Fig. 9).96 The table settings in these scenes
reflect what the documents tell us about dining customs. One can distinguish diners
sitting at the table, often of a rectangular shape and covered with a white table cloth.
Also evident in these dining scenes is the diversity of tableware, showing vessels made
of various materials and in varying sizes.
What is remarkable on most dining scenes of a later date, is the sudden shift to-
wards the separation of food in several bowls, which were apparently shared by three
or four guests at the table. A late 12th -13th century miniature in a croce dipinta, in the
Museo Nazionale di San Matteo in Pisa, shows, for instance, five bowls on the Last
Supper table. In that way, Jesus and his Apostles were sharing one bowl between two
or three men.97 The diners were, therefore, expected to eat together from the same
bowl with their immediate neighbours. Furthermore, the food was eaten with fingers
and a knife. Other 13th and 14thcentury dining scenes from Byzantine art also show
this separation of food into several bowls as well as the use of jugs, even of glass beakers
and wine jugs.98 The dishes with food and vessels of wine or water were not placed reg-
ularly on the table. The guests were apparently expected to share the dishes and knives
between three or four persons.
One or two nicely decorated larger bowls were sometimes placed in the centre
as ‘pièce de resistance’ (the most substantial dish) for sharing food by several diners.
These vessels contained a pig’s head, fishes or even whole chicken, as is shown on a
miniature from the Arsenal Bible (a mid-13th century bible from Saint-Jean-d’Acre)
(Fig. 10).99 Furthermore, we can distinguish additional small hemispherical bowls
with a ring foot on the table. These could have been used for drinking, or for serving
and eating smaller portions of semi-liquid foods. Soups and sauces could have been
drunk directly from such small bowls. On a miniature in the late 12th century Fécamp
Psalter, we see Janus (as the personification of January) sitting behind a square table
laid out with a bowl filled with a pig’s head (Fig. 11). This figure is lifting a small bowl
on a high ring foot to the mouth, showing that such vessels (also known in French as
hanap) were not only used for food consumption, but also for drinking.100
The change in dining habits is confirmed by the archaeological evidence. A clear
example is established by material found in an excavated waste pit at the Castle of
159

Lagopesole, where approximately 2,400 bowls with a diameter of 12-16 cm were re-
covered.101 These last ones show the growing and extensive use, on the Late Medieval
table, of deeper bowls of small and medium sizes.102 Only a small percentage of the to-
tal amount of finds consisted of other ceramic shapes (such as jugs, beakers, mugs and
sauce bowls), which underlines the numerical supremacy of these ‘individual’ bowls
on the table.103 The table setting is further accompanied by glazed or unglazed jugs
with trefoil rims and spouts, for serving and pouring liquids. Very small glazed bowls
may have contained sauces, salt, spices or other condiments.
According to the Primitive Rule of the Templar Order after 1129, the sharing of
a bowl by two brothers was necessary in case there was a shortage of bowls at the
table.104 The Rule informs us further that bowls were washed in the kitchen after
meals.105 Wooden bowls were also used, and the Templar Rule mentions bowls made
of horn.106 They are all of a small size in order to fit one portion.
The finds from well U14:1 show a wide variation of imported and local wares for
the tables of the elite. Well-manufactured vessels from Italy and Spain, such as the
Spanish Lustre Ware and Maiolica arcaica ones in the Agora assemblage, could only fit
one portion for one or two diners, and were probably for personal rather than commu-
nal use – especially when they were decorated with coats of arms. Heraldic devices on
high-quality imported dinner services refer to social status and display of a well-to-do
household. Such imports may have been considered more expensive than local glazed
wares due to customs taxes imposed on imported ceramics.107
The use of highly-decorated Spanish Lustreware dishes and bowls, as objects specif-
ically for stricktly personal use, can be identified on contemporary depictions of dining
scenes; a striking example is the Last Supper painting by Jaime Ferrer the elder, which
can be dated to the first third of the 15th century.108 Apart from the exact portrayal of
Spanish Lustre Ware dishes and bowls on this dining scene, we can also detect, on the
table, an increase in the number of various tablewares and cutlery (such as knives and
spoons) and the introduction of glass beakers and jugs. Deeper dishes and bowls were
shared by two or three diners, on which a greater variety of food could be served.
Knives were important table utensils, often one for every two or three diners, as
is shown in dining scenes and in written texts.109 Metal knives have indeed been re-
covered at several Late Medieval sites, among which include Belvoir, Har Hozevim,
al-Kurum and Vadum Jacob in Israel and Panakton in central Greece.110 Knives were
for the cutting of meat and bread; forks (a late invention in the West) were for the
serving of pieces of meat from the main dish. In addition, spoons could belong to one’s
personal equipment,111 and were mainly used to serve liquids. At Montfort Castle
(Israel), two wooden spoons with pointed handles were preserved: the most complete
example being 14 cm long and had a bowl depth of 5 cm.112
160

On the other hand, most people would still have eaten with their fingers. On a
miniature of the late 13th century chronicle Histoire universelle, made before the Fall
of Acre in 1291, we see a festive meal with diners holding either a knife or eating with
their hands.113 In this scene one diner is actually grasping with his hand in a dish
with a fish. Before, during and after the meal, diners washed their hands with water
brought in jugs by servants, and apparently even finger bowls were used on the table.
Next to ceramic vessels and cutlery we notice glass wine-flasks with a high neck
and glass beakers with a ring foot on the table, as is shown in the above-mentioned
miniature of the mid -13th century Arsenal Bible (Fig. 10).114 These glass vessels seem
to be made of transparent glass, and show the darker-coloured red wine inside. Similar
looking glass finds were excavated in many Crusader sites in Israel, Turkey and Greece
(among which the Military Order sites at Arsur, at Montfort, at Chateau Pelerin).
The Templar Rule mentions glass goblets and flasks.115 Beakers with prunted deco-
ration (with small glass protrusions on the exterior) have been found at Acre and at
Somelaria (es-Samariya).116 Unglazed storage jars and table amphorae were used for
the serving, diluting or spicing of wine and for storing other liquids (including essenc-
es of spices and sauces).
In the end, we may conclude that the pictorial evidence, in combination with the
actual artefacts from the Agora well, show the beginnings of more elaborate or small
group dining in a western style in Athens, from the Late Medieval times onwards.
This transition took place at a different pace in different parts of the Mediterranean,
but it must have definitely reached Athens by the 14th and 15th centuries.
conclusion
Returning to Lévi-Straus’ idea of what kinds of food shall be eaten on what occa-
sions, we would like to summarise here our observations regarding the Athenian well
finds. The Agora assemblage, found in well U14:1, shows a diverse range of ceramic
objects for domestic purposes; we see bowls and dishes, in small and medium sizes,
for dining and serving food (from small portions to communal sharing), small bowls
and a spouted beaker for drinking, a small container for storing and serving spices
or condiments as well as jugs and jars for preparing, pouring and storing liquids. The
finds from the well date mostly to the Late Medieval period, ranging from the mid/
late 13th to the mid-15th century. This wide range in vessel function and in time period
suggests that the vessels were dropped in the well after its use, when it was probably
functioning as a dump pit for tableware (from one household?).
Considering that we are dealing here with a closed context of the Late Medieval
period in Athens, it is noteworthy to distinguish only ceramic utensils for eating and
161

drinking in this assemblage, as there are no vessels made of other materials (metal,
glass etc.) found in the well. Apparently, consumption in the Late Medieval Agora
took place mostly with local or regional wares in both glazed and unglazed variants.
The majority of the finds are unglazed jugs and jars for storage, serving and cooking
(60%), followed by local and imported glazed tableware in various sizes (30%). There
are no cooking pots or frying pans in the well, nor glazed coarse wares, but rather jugs
with burning traces opposite the handle in order to boil or warm liquids or (semi-)
liquid foods (among which composts, comfits or defrutum) in a slow manner next to a
hearth or fireplace. Some jugs, with no soot patterns, have a convex base (possibly used
on an uneven earthen floor, next to a fireplace/hearth); others could have been instead
used for pouring liquids into glazed drinking bowls.
Incised and painted glazed dishes were not only locally made (such as ‘Zeuxippus
Ware Subtypes’), but also imported from Italy and Spain. Until now, such imports
have not been abundantly found at excavations in Athens, which may suggest that
the city was more focussed on the local production of unglazed and glazed ceram-
ics during the Late Middle Ages. One should also keep in mind, of course, that the
Frankish lords were based on the Acropolis (Kastro), where hardly any material from
Late Medieval contexts has been retrieved until now (because during the excavations
in the 19th and early 20th centuries most Medieval material was discarded). In this pe-
riod, the Agora most probably functioned as a suburb (or an enclave) in the chora (the
Athenian territory outside the proper city), where mostly foreign merchants would
have been based, like in Corinth. Therefore, it is quite likely that the deposit could
have belonged to such a group of inhabitants.
During the Late Medieval/Frankish period, a process of change of eating man-
ners seems to have set in. On the later dining scenes, for instance, one can see a trend
towards the separation of foods into more bowls (shared by only two or three diners),
which are often elaborately decorated for the table. Glass beakers and jugs also appear,
as well as a proliferation of functional items in different shapes, sizes and materials (in-
cluding cutlery). All this suggests growing wealth, a greater appreciation of luxurious
dining utensils and a smaller group eating style, with more food in a variety of smaller
and deeper bowls on the table.
Furthermore, one may take dinner services decorated with a family’s coats of arms,
not only as witness of a growing awareness of heraldic devices, but also as a rather bla-
tant showing-off of power and wealth at the table. In fact, glazed wares with painted
coats of arms mostly appear in Italy at high-status sites, where they can refer to true
stemmata of local aristocratic dynasties or to pseudo-heraldic emblems of the city’s
wealthiest inhabitants. It is, in short, very probable that these wares were commis-
sioned by both nobility and upstart ‘bourgeois’ families for display purposes.
162

At the same time, we may also notice the introduction of cookery books with ‘in-
ternational’ recipes containing more elaborate and complicated dishes with chicken,
fowl and eggs, as well as the appearance of an unknown variety of herbs and spices
(among which include cloves, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon and saffron) and novel ‘exot-
ic’ ingredients (such as rice, pasta, almonds, citrus fruit and sugar). Interestingly, we
cannot only distinguish an increase in the consumption of domesticated fowl, par-
ticularly chicken, in written recipes, but also in art (dining scenes) and in archaeolog-
ical contexts (waste pits) of the 13th and 14th centuries.
It hardly needs to be stressed that there is no simple and direct relation between
changing pottery shapes with altering decorations and changing cultural-historical
circumstances. However, it would not seem to be an extravagant conjecture to suggest
that there is a relation between on the one hand the introduction of smaller, deeper
bowls and of jugs/jars for slow cooking (shown in the archaeological record), and on
the other hand the spread of affluence and new – more sophisticated – table manners
(small group dining) and the introduction of new foodways, cooking manners and
fireplaces/hearths during Late Medieval/Frankish times in the eastern Mediterrane-
an, including Athens.
*
We would like to warmly thank Professor John McK. Camp ii, Director of the
Athenian Agora excavations of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens
(ascsa), for allowing us to study and publish the Byzantine and Ottoman material
from the excavations in the Ancient Agora of Athens. Special thanks go to his team
working in the Agora offices and archives; in particular, Craig Mauzy, Sylvie Dumont,
Bruce Hartzler, Maria Tziotziou, who have been very cooperative in helping us with
our work. We are also much indebted to the previous Director of the American School
of Classical Studies in Athens (ascsa), Professor Jack L. Davis, and the current Di-
rector, Professor James Wright, for allowing us to work in the Athenian Agora. Fur-
thermore, we would like to thank Petra Doeve for her help inking our drawings in
Figure 8. Finally, we would like to thank the Netherlands Organisation of Scientific
Research (nwo) for funding J. Vroom’s vidi research project Material Culture, Con-
sumption and Social Change: New Approaches to Understanding the Eastern Mediter-
ranean during Byzantine and Ottoman Times between 2010 and 2015. All the ceramic
finds from well U14:1 will be published in full detail in an extensive catalogue in a
volume of the The Athenian Agora series in the future.
163

not es
1 Leach 19964, 42. 19 Vroom 2009, 245-46, table 3; idem 2016,

2 E.g., Vroom 2000; idem 2003; idem 2008; tables 13.A-B; see also Bağcı and Vroom in
Joyner 2007; Williams 2003. this volume.
3 This is the Frankish name for Athens; see 20 Vroom 2011b, 423-25 and figs. 17-18.
also Setton 1975 with further bibliography. 21 We would like to thank Professor John
4 See Tanoulas 1997; Camp 2001, 241, figs. Camp, the director of the Agora excavations,
234-35; Kazanaki-Lappa 2002, 646 and for his allowance to work on this material.
especially note 40. 22 Until now, not many finds have been
5 Vroom 2013. published yet that give additional
6 These include some of the contributors in information on the material culture of Late
this volume, among whom Yasemin Bağcı Medieval Athens. For instance, in another
and Yona Waksman. part of the Athenian Agora one imported
7 See Vroom 1998; idem 2000; idem 2003; Proto-Maiolica fragment (dated to mid
idem 2007a; idem 2007b; idem 2011a. 13th-mid 14th c.) from a house context
8 Vroom 2003, 313-21 and fig.11.27; idem was published by MacKay 2001, fig. 9.
2007a, figs. 17.7, 17.12 and 17.13. Furthermore, Tsoniotis (2014, 329-30, fig. 9
9 Vroom 2003, 303-57. and note 25) mentions a glazed bowl found
10 With respect to the chronology of the in a 14th-century house context in the
pottery finds, note that ‘Early Byzantine’ eastern part of the peristyle of the Roman
means here ca. 7th-9th c., ‘Middle Agora.
Byzantine’ ca. 10th-late 12th/early 13th c., 23 Shear 1973, 385-98; Shear 1975, 332-61.
‘Late Byzantine/Frankish’ or ‘Late Medieval’ 24 Shear 1973, 391-98; Shear 1975, 332-45;
ca. 13th-15th c.; cf. Vroom 2003, 26-29 for a Sodini 1984, 350-52 and 394-95; Camp 1986,
detailed discussion of Medieval chronology. 200-202; Frantz 1988, 67, 119, pls. 48b, 49,
11 Vroom 2003, 229-37, specifically table 7.3; 50.
2015, fig. 1; idem 2016, fig. 13.3. 25 Only scant information regarding the
12 Vroom 2015a; idem 2016. Late Medieval period was published.
13 Vroom 2015a, fig. 5; idem 2016, fig. 13.5. The excavation data presented here were
14 Vroom 2015a, fig. 7; idem 2016, fig. 13.7. extracted from Notebook PP’ i, 102-107, 155-
15 Vroom 2008, 299-303, fig. 13 and table 1. 59, 165; Notebook PP’ ii, 351-65; Notebook
16 Vroom 2009, figs. 8-12; idem 2016, fig. 13.2. PP’ iii, 429 (No. 177), 478 (No. 505);
17 Vroom 2016, fig. 13.2. Notebook PP’ iv, 719, 773-75, 779-81, and
18 Vroom 2009, 242-46, tables 2-3 and figs. 14- Notebook PP’ vi, 1034-35.
16; idem 2016, tables 13A-B; see also for the 26 Karidis 2014, 58.
faunal study, Bartosiewicz 2005, tables 1-3, 27 MacKay 2003, 419.
figs. 4-5. 28 Karidis 2014, 59-61 and fig. ii.1.
164

29 Samples have in the meantime been taken 40 On the use of ‘lagenia’ see Bakirtzis 1989, 89-
by J. Vroom, Y. Waksman, V. Kilikoglou, 94, pl.24, nos. 1-6. The view that these thin-
A. Hein and A. Panogopoulou in the Agora walled vessels were not used for overseas
for further petrographical and chemical export has been supported by Williams and
analyses on provenance and technology. Zervos 1992, 146.
30 See for unglazed spouted jugs (ibriks) found 41 See for such a table amphora in a Late
in pits in Thebes (Central Greece) and in a Medieval context in central Greece, Gerstel
pit in Durrës (Albania), Vroom 2006, figs. et al. 2003, 184, no. 54, fig. 37 (found in
32, 49, 50, 51, 59, 60; idem 2007c, pl. 7c-f, a church in Panakton). In Greece, lageni
although these are all of a later date. continued to be used throughout Ottoman
2 and Early Modern times (until the 20th c.).
31 Vroom 2014 , 110-11. Furthermore, similar
looking fragments of ‘Zeuxippus Subtypes 42 Williams and Zervos 1996, 29, no. 17, pl. 8.
or Variants’ were recovered in pits in nearby The vessel is described as ‘storage amphora’.
Thebes in Central Greece; cf. Vroom 2006, 43 Vroom 20142, 132-33.
figs. 16 and 36-37. 44 Gelichi 1988, 19-21.
32 See Vroom 2003, table 7.3 for the average 45 Stillwell-MacKay 1967, 254-55, nos. 11-16,
rim diameters of vessels shapes in Late fig. 1, pls. 62-3; Sanders 1987, 174, no. 12;
Byzantine/Frankish times in Greece. Williams and Zervos 1992, 151-56, figs. 6-9;
33 See for the discussion on the use of sagging Williams and Zervos 1993, 21, no. 15-16, pls.
bases in coarse wares, the contribution of 10-11; Williams 1993, 268-70, pl. 1; Williams
José Carvajal Lopéz and Miquel Jiménez and Zervos 1994, 15, no. 15, and 29, nos.
Puertas in this volume. 40-41; Williams and Zervos 1995, 26-27,
34 Williams and Zervos 1992, 146, no. 7, fig. 4, nos. 15-17, pl. 6; Williams, Barnes and Snyder
pl. 34. 1997, 26, nos. 24-26; Stillwell-MacKay 2003,
35 Williams and Zervos 1992, 145-46 and 414-15.
Appendix. 46 Agionori: Excavation in 2012 by the
36 The excavation of the monastery was 25th Ephorate of Byzantine Antiquities
reported by Arapoyanni (1986). The pottery (unpublished). Argos: Oikonomou-Laniado
was studied preliminarily in 2009 by E. 1993, 309; Glarentza: Athanasoulis and Ralli
Tzavella. (eds.) 2005, 47; Chlemoutsi: Skartsis 2012,
37 Byzantine pottery from an excavation at 10 53; Athens: Mentioned by Stillwell-MacKay
Orionos Street in Chalkis, undertaken by 2003, 420; Chania: Hahn 1989, 232, fig. 13;
the 23rd Ephorate of Byzantine Antiquities, Herakleion: Poulou-Papadimitriou 2008;
is currently under study by the authors. The Epirus: Papadopoulou and Tsouris 1993,
material is still unpublished. 248, fig. 7, no. 16; Butrint: Vroom 2004, 285,
38 Williams and Zervos 1992, 148, no. 1991- figs. 15.18-19; Stari Bar: D’Amico 2006, 78,
14:7, fig. 5, pl. 36f. pl. 4.2.8. See also Vroom 20142, 132-33 and
39 Bakirtzis 1989, 89-94. idem forthcoming (Ephesus).
165

47 See Mackay 2001, 178, fig. 9 for the find of a contributions of Van Verrocchio and of José
small rim fragment of Proto-Maiolica from Carvajal López and Miguel Jiménez Puertas
southern Italy (P33347) from below the floor in this volume
of a Medieval house (‘House C’) in section 61 MacKinnon 2014, 246-49 and table 2.
Rho in the Athenian Agora. This piece can 62 MacKinnon 2014, 247.
be dated to the second half of the 13th-early 63 MacKinnon 2014, 248 and table 3 (including
14th century. a slight increase in the frequency of marine
48 We would like to thank Prof. Sauro Gelichi shell as well in the 13th and 14th centuries).
for this observation; cf. Berti and Tongiorgi 64 Only a short report refers to the use of
1977, 58-61, showing their ‘7 gruppo olives in the Agora during Byzantine times.
decorazione a fasce concentriche’. According to Evi Margaritis (2006, 26),
49 Edited by Evans 1936. archaeobotanical remains from Byzantine
50 See Williams 2003, fig. 25.4; Vroom 2011, contexts in the Athenian Agora included
412. several hundred complete and fragmented
51 Tagliente 2003, 29-30; Vroom 2011, figs. 3-6. carbonized olive stones, suggesting that they
52 This fresco is now on display in the represented ‘the by-products of olive oil
Byzantine and Christian Museum in Athens; production’.
cf. Konstantios 2010, 184-85, no. 124. 65 See Vroom 2003, 329-31.
53 Vroom 2011, 412-13, fig. 7; see also the 66 Scully 1995, 4-9; van Winter 2007, 293-94.
contributions of Librenti, Moine and 67 Scully 1995, 225-230 and in particular note
Sabbionesi and of Verrocchio on this 35.
phenomenon in this volume. 68 Faccioli 1966, 63-105; Flandrin and Redon
54 Vroom 20142, 134-35. 1981, 393-94.
55 See for the distribution of these imports in 69 Boas 2006, 198; idem 2010, 137-38 and fig.
2 40.
the Aegean, Vroom 2005 , 126-35.
56 MacKay 2001, fig. 9; see also note 47. 70 Boas 1999, 85; idem 2006, 198; idem 2010,
57 See Stillwell-MacKay 1998, figs. 1-2, plates 138.
1-3; Patitucci Uggeri 1997, 9-10; Vroom 2003, 71 Boas 2006, 198 and note 12
167-69; idem 20142, 126-33; idem 2011, 417- 72 Vroom 2011, 423-24, figs. 17-19.
20, figs. 10-11 and tables 3-7. 73 E.g., Fiorillo 2005, 34-36, fig. 11; Redon,
58 Fiorillo 2005; Vroom 2011, 421 and fig. 14. Sabban and Serventi 2012, 231-39.
59 See for such an approach, Vroom 2000; 74 Fiorillo 2005, 82-83, graphs i-ii.
idem 2003, 303-34. 75 Vroom 2011, fig. 19.
60 We should of course keep the absence 76 Hopf 1873, 231-35; Stillwell Mackay 2003,
of ‘missing artefacts’ (made in metal, 419.
wood, basketry or leather) in mind when 77 Origo 1985; see also Cecchi 1990; Nigro
considering any excavatd assemblage: see 2010; idem 2013.
Vroom 1998a, 541; idem 1998b and also the 78 Origo 1985, 292-303.
166

79 Origo 1985, 293. 95 Origo 1985, 292-302.

80 Origo 1985, 89. 96 Vroom 2003, 321-27; Idem 2007a, 200-03,
81 Scully 1985, 222-25. figs. 17.14-17.17; Jones 2014, fig. 2.8; Hiller
82 In ca. 1490 Le Viandier appeared in a 2014, especially the dining scenes painted by
printed version, including newer recipes that Duccio di Buoninsegna (ca. 1255- 1318/190),
were probably drawn from the court of the Giotto di Bondone (1266-1337), Giulano da
Dukes of Burgundy; see Scully 1988 and van Rimini (1307-1346) and Stefano d’Antonio
Winter 2007, 61. di Vanni (1405-1483).
83 E.g., Brereton and Ferrier 1981; Kosta- 97 Vroom 2003, fig. 11.28; Vroom 2007a, fig.
Théfaine 2009. 17.14
84 Evidence for this large-scale production 98 Vroom 2003, figs. 11.28-11.37; see also
of cane sugar on Crusader refinery sites Lymberopoulou 2007, 223-32 for the
is found in Kouklia-Stavros, Kolossi and appearance of Venetian-style glass beakers
Episkopi-Serayia on Cyprus; see for instance, on 14th-century wall-paintings of the ‘Last
von Wartburg 2014. Supper’ and ‘Herod’s Feast’ at the church
85 See for more information on this recipe, the of the Panagia Kera at Merambello, Eastern
contribution by Vandepoel in this volume. Crete.
86 See also the contribution with the title 99 Bible from Saint-Jean d’Acre, Arsenal Bible
‘Arabic influences on European Medieval MS 5211, fol. 364v, ‘Marriage of Naomi’s sons
cuisine’ of van Winter in this volume. with Ruth and Orpah’, Book of Ruth, Latin
87 Boas 2006, 199 and note 26. Kingdom of Jerusalem (Acre), ca. 1250-1254,
88 Boas 2006, 199 and note 27; Yehuda 2010; Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal, Paris.
idem 2011. 100 Fécamp Psalter, Manuscript 76 F13, folio
89 See for rectangular hearths in Corinth, 1v, ‘Janus’, north-eastern France, ca. 1180,
Williams and Zervos 1993, 7-8, pl. 3; Koninklijke Bibliotheek, The Hague.
Williams and Zervos 1994, 35, figs. 3 and 8. 101 This pottery included Proto-Maiolica,
90 Vroom 2011, 422. RMR Ware (and other Polychrome Lead-
91 Cf. Güll et al. 2007, 158, 164, figs. 12-14, glazed Wares in several painted variants),
graphs 2-3. According to Evi Margiritis, monochrome glazed and unglazed
a concentration of figs and grapes were tablewares, which were used between the
also found in a Frankish house context second half of the 13th and the first quarter
in Corinth. Furthermore, she noted the of the 14th century.
presence of coriander and thyme seeds and 102 Fiorillo 2005, 24; Vroom 2011, 421 and fig.
leaves as seasonings for cooking in the same 14.
complex (E. Margiritis, pers. comm.) 103 Vroom 2011, fig. 14.
92 Suggested in Güll et al. 2007, 158. 104 Boas 2006, 199-200 and note 29.
93 Alexandre-Bidon 2005, fig. 70. 105 Boas 2006, 201.
94 See also Joyner 2007, 190. 106 Boas 2010, 145 and note 96.
167

107 Karidis 2014, 39-40, fig. I.8. 112 Boas 2006, 202 and note 45; idem 2010, 147
108 This Last Supper scene by Jaime Ferrer and note 108.
i is currently on display in the Diocesan 113 Histoire universelle (Histoire ancienne
and Regional Museum (Meseu Diocesa i jusqu’ à Cesar), Additional MS 15268, folio
Comarcal) in Solsona, province Lerida in 242v ‘Pax Romana’, Latin Kingdom of
north-western Spain. Jerusalem (Acre), last quarter of the 13th
109 Eating utensils were cited in the Rules of the century (before 1291), British Library,
Military orders; cf. Boas 2010. London; see also Folda 1976, 77-82; Kuhnel
110 Rosenberg 1999, 245, pl. 12; Boas 2010, 146- 2004, 162.
47 and note 106; Gerstel et al. 2003, 164-65, 114 See note 99.
no. 23, fig. 12 (Late Medieval iron knife with 115 Boas 2006, 201 and note 38.
bone handle). 116 Boas 2006, 202 and note 39; idem 2010, 146
111 Boas 2005, 202. and note 103.
168

bi bl iogr a ph y
Alexandre-Bidon, D. 2005. Une archéologie du gout. Céramique et consummation, Paris.

Arapoyanni, X. 1986. Ανασκαφή στην Κάντζα Αττικής, 2nd Scientific Meeting of
South-East Attica (in Greek: Β’ Επιστημονική Συνάντηση ΝΑ Αττικής), Kalyvia
Attikes, 25-28/10/1985, Kalyvia, 255-67.
Athanasoulis, A. and A. Ralli (eds.) 2005. Glarentza – Clarence, Athens.
Bakirtzis, C. 1989. Βυζαντινά τσουκαλολάγηνα, Athens.
Bartosiewicz, L. 2005. Animal remains from the excavations of Horum Höyük,
southeast Anatolia, in: H. Buitenhuis, A.M. Choyke, L. Martin, L. Bartosiewicz
and M. Mashkour (eds.), Archaeozoology of the Near East vi, arc-Publicaties 123,
Groningen, 150-62.
Berti, G. and Tongiorgi, L. 1977. Ceramica pisana: secoli xiii-xv, Pisa.
Boas, A.J. 1999. Crusader Archaeology, London & New York.
Boas, A.J. 2006. Archaeology of the Military Orders. A Survey of the Urban Centres,
Rural Settlement and Castles of the Military Orders in the Latin East (c. 1120-1291),
London & New York.
Boas, A.J. 2010. Domestic Settings. Sources on Domestic Architecture and Day-to-Day
Activities in the Crusader States, Leiden & Boston.
Brereton, G.E. and J.M. Ferrier 1981. Le Menagier de Paris, Oxford.
Camp, J. McKesson ii 1986. The Athenian Agora. Excavations in the Heart of Classical
Athens, London.
Camp, J. McKesson ii 2001. The Archaeology of Athens, New Haven & London.
Cecchi, E. 1990. Le lettere di Francesco Datini alla moglie Margherita (1385-1410), Pra-
to.
D’Amico, E. 2006. A hypothesis of Apulian pottery consumption, in: S. Gelichi (ed.),
The Archaeology of an Abandoned Town. The 2005 Project in Stari Bar, Florence,
55-82.
Evans, A. (ed.) 1936. Francesco Balducci Pegolotti, La pratica della mercatura, Cam-
bridge, Massachusetts.
Faccioli, E. (ed.) 1966, Arte della cucina. Libri di ricette, testi sopra lo scalco, il trinciante
e i vini dal xvi al xix secolo, vol. i, Milan.
Flandrin, J.L. and O. Redon 1981. Les livres de cuisine italiens des xive et xve siècles,
Archeologia Medievale 8, 393-408.
Fiorillo, R. 2005. La tavola dei d’Angiò. Analisi archeological di una spazzatura reale
Castello di Lagopesole (1266-1315), Salerno.
Folda, J. 1976. Crusader Manuscript Illumination at Saint-Jean d’Acre, 1275-1291,
Princeton.
169

Frantz, A. 1988. The Athenian Agora, vol. xxiv. Late Antiquity: AD 267-700, Princeton.
Gelichi, S. 1988. Ceramiche venete importate in Emilia-Romagna tra xiii e xiv seco-
lo. Padusa (Bollettino del Centro Polesano di Studi Storici Archeologi ed Etnografici)
24, 5-43.
Gelichi, S. (ed.) 1993. La ceramica nel mondo bizantino tra xi e xv secolo e i suoi rapport
con Italia, Siena 11-13 marzo 1991, Florence.
Gerstel S.E.J., M. Munn, H.E. Grossman, E. Barnes, A.H. Rohn and M. Kiel 2003.
A Late Medieval settlement at Panaktos, Hesperia 72, 147-234.
Güll, P. (ed.) 2007. Lecce, ex convento del Carmine. Un’associazione di reperti ceram-
ici, vitrei, faunistici e botanici in un silo del xiv secolo, Archeologia Medievale 34,
147-68.
Hahn, M. 1989. Byzantine and Postbyzantine pottery from the Greek-Swedish ex-
cavations at Khania, Crete, in: V. Déroche and J.-M. Spieser (eds.), Recherches sur
la céramique byzantine, Bulletin du Cahiers Helléniques Supplement 18, Athens,
227-32.
Hopf, C. 1873. Chroniques gréco-romaines inédites ou peu connues: xii. Journal de la
dépense de l’ hostel du Prince Phillipe de Savoye faitte par clerc Guichard, Paris, 231-35.
Jones. L. (ed.) 2014. Byzantine Images and their Afterlives. Essays in Honor of Annema-
rie Weyl Carr, Abingdon.
Joyner, L. 1997. Byzantine and Frankish cooking wares at Corinth, Greece: Changes
in diet, style and raw material exploitation, in: A. Sinclair, E. Slater and J. Gowlett
(eds.), Archaeological Sciences 1995, Oxbow Monograph 64, Oxford, 82-87.
Kazanaki-Lappa, M. 2002. Medieval Athens, in: A.E. Laiou (ed.), The Economic His-
tory of Byzantium: From the Seventh through the Fifteenth Century, Washington
dc, 639-46.
Karidis, D.N. 2014. Athens from 1456 to 1920. The Town under Ottoman Rule and the
19th-Century Capital City, Oxford.
Konstantios, D. (ed.) 2010. Byzantine Collections. The Permanent Exhibition of the
Byzantine & Christian Museum, Athens.
Kosta-Théfaine, J.-F. 2009. Recettes de cuisine du Moyen Âge: Le Vivendier, Paris.
Kuhnel, B. 2004. The perception of history in thirteenth-century Crusader art, in:
D.H. Weiss and L. Mahoney (eds.), Crusader France and the Holy Land: Frankish
Culture at the End of the Crusades, Baltimore, 161-86.
Leach, E. 19964. Lévi-Strauss, London.
Lymberopoulou, A. 2007. ‘Fish on a dish’ and its table companions in fourteenth-cen-
tury wall-paintings on Venetian-dominated Crete, in: L. Brubaker and K. Linar-
dou (eds.), Eat, Drink, and Be Merry (Luke 12:19). Food and Wine in Byzantium,
Aldershot, 223-32.
170

MacKay, C. 2001. Protomaiolica in Frankish Athens, in: M.L. Lawall, J.K. Papado-
poulos, K.M. Lynch, B. Tsakirgis, S.I. Rotroff and C. MacKay, Notes from the
tins: Research in the Stoa of Attalos, summer 1999, Hesperia 70, 178-82.
MacKinnon, M. 2014. Animals, economics, and culture in the Athenian Agora.
Comparative zooarchaeological investigations, Hesperia 83, 189-255.
Margaritis, E. 2006. Archaeobotanical remains from the Agora’s Byzantine contexts,
Akoue 56, 26.
Nigro, G. (ed.) 2010. Francesco di Marco Datini: The Man, The Merchant, Florence.
Nigro, G. (ed) 2013, Aspects of the Life and Character of Francesco Di Marco Datini,
Florence.
Oikonomou-Laniado, A. 1993. La céramique protomajolique d’Argos, in: S. Gelichi
(ed.), La ceramica nel mondo bizantino tra xi e xv secolo e i suoi rapport con Italia,
Siena 11-13 marzo 1991, Florence, 307-15.
Origo, I. 1985. De koopman van Prato, Amsterdam [= The Merchant of Prato: Francesco
di Marco Datini, New York, 1957).
Papadopoulou, V. and K. Tsouris. 1993. Late Byzantine ceramics from Arta, in:
S. Gelichi (ed.), La ceramica nel mondo bizantino tra xi e xv secolo e i suoi rapport
con Italia, Siena 11-13 marzo 1991, Florence, 241-61.
Patitucci Uggeri, S. (ed.) 1997. La protomaiolica. Bilancio e aggiornamenti, Florence.
Poulou-Papadimitriou, N. 2008. Στιγμές από την ιστορία του Ηρακλείου. Από την
πρωτοβυζαντινή εποχή έως την περίοδο της οθωμανικής κυριαρχίας (7ος-19ος αι.),
in: A. Ioannidou-Karetsou (ed.), Ηράκλειο. Η άγνωστη ιστορία της αρχαίας πόλης,
Herakleion, 149-201.
Redon, O., F. Sabban and S. Serventi 2012. A tavola nel Medioevo, con 150 ricette dalla
Francia e dall’Italia, Rome & Bari [= La gastronomie du Moyen Age, 150 recettes de
France et d’Italie, Paris, 1993].
Rosenberg, S. (ed.) 1999. Knights of the Holy Land: The Crusader Kingdom of Jerusa-
lem, Jerusalem.
Sanders, G. D. R. 1987. An assemblage of Frankish Pottery at Corinth, Hesperia 56,
159-95.
Scully, T. 1988 (ed. and transl.). The Viandier of Taillevent. An Edition of All Extant
Scully, T. 1995. The Art of Cookery in the Middle Ages, Woodbridge, Suffolk.
Setton, K.M. 1955. The archaeology of Medieval Athens, in: J.H. Mundy, R.W. Emery,
B. Nelson and A.P. Evans (eds.), Essays in Medieval Life and Thought, Presented in
Honour of Austin Patterson Evans, New York, 227-58.
Setton, K.M. 1975. Athens in the Middle Ages, London.
Shear, T. L. 1973. The Athenian Agora: Excavations of 1972, Hesperia 42, 359-407.
171

Shear, T. L. 1975. The Athenian Agora: Excavations of 1973-1974, Hesperia 44, 331-37.
Skartsis, S. 2012. Chlemoutsi Castle (Clermont, Castel Tornese), Peloponnese: Its Pot-
tery and Its Relations with the West (13th – early 19th c.), British Archaeological
Reports I.S. 2391, Oxford.
Sodini, J.-P. 1984. L’habitat urbain en Grèce à la veille des invasions, in: Villes et peuple-
ment dans l’Illyricum protobyzantin. Actes du colloque organisé par l’École française
de Rome (Rome, 12-14 mai 1982), Paris, 341-97.
Stillwell-MacKay, T. 1967. More Byzantine and Frankish pottery from Corinth, Hes-
peria 36, 249-320.
Stillwell-MacKay, T. 1996. A group of Renaissance pottery from Heraklion, Crete:
Notes and questions, in: P. Lock and G.D.R. Sanders (eds.), The Archaeology of
Medieval Greece, Oxbow Monograph 59, Oxford, 125-38.
Stillwell-MacKay, T. 2003. Pottery of the Frankish Period, in: C. K. Williams ii and
N. Bookides (eds.), Corinth xx: The Centenary 1896-1996, Athens, 401-22.
Tagliente, P. 2003. Ceramiche invetriate tra Due e Quattrocento, in: P. Arthur, A.
Bramato, P. Tagliente and B. Vetere (eds.), Medioevo e Rinascimento a Castello Car-
lo v di Lecce, Galatina, 29-32.
Tanoulas, T. 1997. Through the broken looking glass: The Acciaiuoli Palace in the Pro-
pylaea reflected in the villa of Lorenzo il Magnifico at Poggio a Caiano, Bolletino
d’Arte 100, 1-32.
Tsoniotis, N. 2014. Lo scavo del lato est dell’Agora Romana di Atene (2000-2003):
dati stratigrafici e risultati, in: L.M. Caliò, E. Lippolis and V. Parisi (eds), Gli at-
eniensi e il loro modello di città. Seminari di Storia e Archeologia greca i, Thiasos
Monografie 5, Rome, 323-36.
Vroom, J. 1998a. Medieval and Post-Medieval pottery from a site in Boeotia: A case
study example of Post-Classical archaeology in Greece, Annual of the British School
at Athens 93, 513-46.
Vroom, J. 1998b. Early Modern archaeology in Central Greece: The contrast of ar-
tefact-rich and sherdless sites, Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 11.2, 131-64.
Vroom, J. 2000, Byzantine garlic and Turkish delight: Dining habits and cultural
change in Central Greece from Byzantine to Ottoman times, Archaeological Dia-
logues 7, 199-216.
Vroom, J. 2004. The Medieval and Post-medieval finewares and cooking wares from
the Triconch Palace and the Baptistery, in: R. Hodges, W. Bowden and K. Lako
(eds.), Byzantine Butrint: Excavations and Surveys 1994-1999, Cambridge, 278-92.
172

Vroom, J. 2006. Byzantine garbage and Ottoman waste, in: E. Andrikou, V.L. Ara-
vantinos, L. Godard, A. Sacconi and J. Vroom, Thèbes. Fouilles de la Cadmée ii.2.
Les tablettes en linéaire B de la ‘Odos Pelopidou’. La céramique de la Odos Pelopidou
et la chronologie du Linéaire B, Pisa & Rome, 181-233.
Vroom, J. 2007a. The changing dining habits at Christ’s table, in: L. Brubaker and K.
Linardou (eds.), Eat, Drink, and Be Merry (Luke 12:19). Food and Wine in Byzan-
tium, Papers of the 37th Annual Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, in Honour
of Professor A.A.M. Bryer, Society for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies, Publi-
Vroom, J. 2007b. Kütahya between the lines: Post-Medieval ceramics as historical in-
formation, in: S. Davies and J. Davis (eds.), Between Venice and Istanbul. Colonial
Landscapes in Early Modern Greece, Hesperia Supplement 40, Princeton, 71-93.
Vroom J. 2007c. Pottery finds from a ‘cess-pit’ at the southern wall in Durrës, central
Albania, in: B. Böhlendorf-Arslan, A.O. Uysal and J. Witte-Orr (eds.), Çanak.
Late Antique and Medieval Pottery and Tiles in Mediterranean Archaeological
Contexts, Çanakkale, 1-3 June 2005, Byzas 7, Istanbul, 319-34.
Vroom, J. 2008. Dishing up history: Early Medieval ceramic finds from the Triconch
Palace in Butrint, Mélanges de l’Ecole française de Rome – Moyen Âge 120.2, 291-305.
Vroom, J. 2011. ‘Mr. Turkey goes to Turkey’, Or: How an eighteenth-century Dutch
diplomat lunched at Topkapι Palace, Princeton Papers. Interdisciplinary Journal of
Middle Eastern Studies 16, 139-75.
Vroom, J. 2013. ‘Digging for the ‘Byz’. Adventures into Byzantine and Ottoman ar-
chaeology in the eastern Mediterranean, Pharos 19.2, 79-110.
Vroom, J. 20142. Byzantine to Modern Pottery in the Aegean: An Introduction and
Field Guide, Utrecht; second revised edition, 2014, Turnhout.
Vroom, J. forthcoming. Medieval Ephesus as a production and consumption centre,
in: P. Magdalino and S. Ladstätter (eds.), Ephesus from Late Antiquity to the Later
Middle Ages, Leuven.
Wartburg, M.-L. von 2014. Ubiquity and conformity: A comparative study of sugar
pottery excavated in Cyprus, in: D. Papanikola-Bakirtzi and N. Coureas (eds.),
Cypriot Medieval Ceramics. Reconsiderations and New Perspectives, Nicosia, 213-45.
Winter, J.M. van 2007. Spices and Comfits. Collected Papers on Medieval Food, Black-
awton & Totnes.
Williams, C.K. ii 1993. Italian imports from a church complex in Ancient Corinth,
in: S. Gelichi (ed.), La ceramica nel mondo bizantino tra xi e xv secolo e i suoi rap-
port con Italia, Siena 11-13 marzo 1991, Florence, 263-83.
Williams, C.K. ii 2003. Frankish Corinth: An overview, in: C.K. Williams ii, N.
Bookidis (eds.), Corinth xx: Corinth, The Centenary 1896-1996, Princeton, 423-34.
173

Williams, C.K. ii and O.H. Zervos 1992. Frankish Corinth: 1991, Hesperia 61, 133-91.
Williams, C.K. ii, Barnes E., and L.M., Snyder 1997. Frankish Corinth: 1996, Hespe-
ria 66, 7-47.
Yehuda, E. 2010. Household Archaeology: The Case of Pottery and Rural Dwellings
during the Crusader Period, unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Haifa,
2010.
Yehuda, L. 2011. Cooking and food in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, in: Last Sup-
per at Apollonia. The Final Days of the Crusder Castle in Herzliya, Tel Aviv, 52-61.
174

fig. 2 – Athens: map of the Ancient Agora with location of the complex in sections PP and PP’ (ascsa).
175

fig. 3 – Athenian Agora: map with location of well U14:1 in section PP’ (ascsa).
176

Figs. 4a-b – Athenian Agora: a. map with room 1 in section PP’; b. image of room 1 in section PP’
(ascsa).
fig. 5 – Athenian Agora: drawing of well U14:1 in section PP’ ( J. Vroom, E. Tzavella).
177

Figs. 6a-c – Athenian Agora, the ceramic finds in well 14:1: a. graph of the total of vessel parts; b. graph
of the total of function; c. graph of the total of provenance ( J. Vroom, E. Tzavella).
fig. 6d – See colour plates page 378.
178

1
3
2 4
0 5 10
8 9 10
fig. 8a – Athenian Agora, well U14:1, pottery finds from the tins in the basement: Roulette Ware bowls
(nos. 1-2); Monochrome Sgraffito Ware bowls (nos. 3-6) and unglazed jugs (nos. 7-10) ( J. Vroom,
E. Tzavella, P. Doeve).
179

fig. 8b – Athenian Agora, well U14:1: composition image of unglazed jugs from tins in the basement
( J. Vroom).
180

* * *
Festive meals in the late Middle Ages:

An essay on alimentation
as a means of communication
Johanna Maria van Winter
i n t roduct ion
This essay is about the communicative value of dining in the Middle Ages, both in
its physical and its spiritual meanings.* Examples of the former are seen in the many
prescriptions about table manners, whereas the spiritual significance can be found in
festive meals with a religious motive. We will discuss in the first place the situation of
Western Europe.
Perhaps even more than today, meals in the Late Middle Ages show characteristics
with a pronounced communicative value.1 Before discussing some of these features,
I want to emphasise the fact that the premises of this essay, being ‘alimentation as a
means of communication’, are not nearly as self-evident as one might think. In re-
ligions, other than Christianity, alimentation not only means communication but
also separation. In Judaism and Islam, the food prescriptions and prohibitions of the
Old Testament and the Koran make a separation between believers and unbelievers
c.q. pagans and, in Hinduism, the members of the different castes are separated from
each other by strict food regulations. The Christian believer, however, is principally
allowed to eat and drink all things that are offered to him, without religious or social
impediments. If, nevertheless, a differentiation of food habits or foodstuffs occurs,
this is likely to be due to financial, climatic or health circumstances and not to reli-
gious prohibitions.
This alimentary freedom, normal as it seems to us, is really something quite unique
and is based on a New-Testament tale; in the Acts of the Apostles (10:9-16), the apostle
Peter, shortly before his meeting with the centurion Cornelius, is admonished from

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113482

heaven that unclean meat does not exist. Although the Jews who built the first Chris-
tian community rejected this view, this heavenly vision has become directive for the
followers of Christ.
However, alimentary prescriptions by the church did exist in Medieval Christianity.
Benedictine and other orders of monks were not allowed to eat quadruped meat, unless
they were ill or had secular guests. This prohibition was not a principal but a gradual
one. Akin to this rule for monks, prescriptions for all believers were valid concerning
the periodical abstinence from quadruped meat, fowl, eggs and milk produce during the
forty weekdays from Ash-Wednesday to Easter. Similarly this occurred on Wednesday
through to Saturday for three weeks on the break of the seasons, the so-called ‘ember-
days’. Besides this, abstinence from meat and fowl, but not from dairy produce, was ob-
ligatory on every Wednesday and Friday or Friday and Saturday of the year. Therefore,
this prohibition was valid only for certain days and weeks and, moreover, sometimes
even special dispensation could be given. Unclean, i.e. absolutely and principally forbid-
den, food and drink did not exist in Medieval Christian Europe. This acceptation, in
principle, of all food or drink that might have been consumed, has, in my opinion, high-
ly raised the communicative value of alimentation in the Christian part of the world.
ta bl e m a n n e r s
Having said this, I shall now look in more detail at the meals of the Late Middle Ages.
Concerning the food habits of the common people, who made up the vast majority
of the population, we are poorly informed, either by written sources including man-
uscript illumination, or by archaeological finds of metal, wood or ceramics. Only the
recent disciplines of archaeobotany and archaeozoology, in which food remains from
cesspools, like pips, seeds, bones and fish-bones are analysed, may help us. However, we
cannot derive, from such materials, how often people have eaten or how they behaved
at their meals. We may only presume that things went on in a less careful, differenti-
ated and refined way than in the upper circles of society, about which we are far more
informed. From the households of princely courts, well-to-do citizens and from mon-
asteries, cookbooks have come to us, in which, remarks about festive meals occasionally
occur. Similar to this type of source, there are chronicles with elaborate descriptions of
festive meals, such as at the occasions of a wedding, a princely encounter or a church
celebration. I shall discuss this below within the context of spiritual communication.
The manner in which to behave at the table becomes clear from the treatises about
courtly table manners, in German höfische Tischzuchten2 , in which a popular teaching
about the correct behaviour when eating and drinking is given, often in verse. Even
Erasmus of Rotterdam has written about this subject, in Latin, in his treatise De ci-
182

va n w i n t e r – f e s t i v e m e a l s
vilitate morum puerilium (Basel, Frobenius, 1530) (About the civilising of childish
manners).3 Evidently, those manners which had trickled down from the highest circles
were taken as a model and imitated by citizens and farmers.
In these treatises about courtly table manners, it is always taken for granted that
two or more persons used the same dish or plate and that they drank from the same
cup. In order not to push or offend one’s table partner, it was fashionable to use the
outer hand for eating: if one were sitting on the left side, one should eat with the left
hand, and vice versa. So, we may read in Der Wälsche Gast by Thomasin von Zirclaere,
written ca. 1215:
501 man soll ezzen zaller vrist (one should eat at all times)
502 mit der hant diu engegen ist. (with the hand that is opposite)
503 sitzet dîn gesell ze der rehten hant, (if your mate sits at the right side)
4
504 mit der andern iz zehant. (you must eat with your other hand)
If the plate lay at a distance from oneself on the table (probably because it was meant
for more than two persons) one should not jump at it with both hands, but wait until
the host had started and then take small bits with one hand.
186 Dann in die schussel man nit sol (Then you must not in the plate)
187 Ob sie schon wit ist vff ein mol (if it is far away, at once)
188 Stossen zwo hend, nym eben war (push two hands, but remark)
189 Bisz der herr von der platten var (till the host leaves the plate)
190 Vnnd er gelad sin hant dor von (and takes his hand away from it)
191 So lasz die din auch zuhar gan (so let your hand also go that way),
This can be clearly read in the Thesmophagia of the 12th century, in Sebastian Brant’s
German translation of 1490.5
Before drinking, one was warned first to wipe one’s mouth, in order that no grease
swam upon the common wine, and then not to dive too deeply with one’s lips into the
cup. One should not eat and drink at the same time, and even wait with eating further
till one’s mate had finished his drinking. With the words of the Liederbuch of Clara
Hätzlerin ca 1470:
87 Wirt dir das trinckuas kunt, (if the cup comes in your direction)
88 So wüsch vor deinen mundt, (then first wipe your mouth)
89 Du solt den mund ze massen (you should your mouth with measure)
90 In das trinckuas lassen. (let go into the cup.)
183

91 Wann dein gesell dann trincken sol, (If your mate then will drink)
92 So bis vngessen, das stat wol.6 (do not eat, that is decent.)
If the host wanted to offer his guest a drink, the guest should go towards him and
drink from the cup after him, we read again in Sebastian Brant’s translation of the
Thesmophagia:7
Quomodo sit bibendum coram domino (How to drink in the presence of the lord)
441 Nit lid das verr vom lyb vsz gang (Do not suffer that far from his body goes)
442 Des herren arm, sum dich nit lang (the arm of the lord, don’t reflect long)
443 Lauff ym entgegen schnell vnnd schon (walk towards him fast and fair)
444 Mit beiden henden solt entphoen (with both hands you should receive)
445 Das drinckgeschirr, mit rechter masz (the cup, with right measure)
446 Lauff ym entgegen vff halber strasz (walk towards him half-way)
447 Vnnd trinck also sytlich ym nach (and drink after him decently),
bodi ly cl e a n l i n ess
While eating and drinking in a group it was inevitable to communicate with one’s
neighbour and other fellow-guests, as it was inevitable to observe a measure of cleanli-
ness. In fact, the rules that should be observed in this respect were an item of the pre-
scribed etiquette and thus were part of the communication of the meal as such. Rules
of etiquette have been invented exactly for that purpose, so people may meet sociably
in comfort without giving or experiencing too much offensiveness, in order to be able
to communicate. Bodily cleanliness is a prerequisite for this, which in the Middle Ages
however, was not always easily to fulfil. Neither running water nor private cutlery and
napkin were available at the table. One ate with one’s fingers, perhaps using one’s own
knife, but without a fork. Spoons were precious, and they were carefully guarded by the
steward, who after, or even during, the meal gathered them in again from the guests.8
Napkins for the guests did not exist but the table was dressed with a large cloth,
which also served for wiping the diners’ fingers. One should not, however, blow one’s
nose nor wipe one’s teeth or eyes with it, says a Late Medieval German translation of
the Latin treatise called Facetus from the 12th century.
51s auch mit dem tischtuch zu keyner fryst (also with the tablecloth never)
wisch die nasen die do tropffend ist (wipe your dripping nose),
54M Mit dem tischtuch des tisches (with the cloth of the table)
9
weder die czende noch die augen nicht wische. (don’t wipe your teeth nor eyes).
184

f est i v e m e a l s
In higher-class households, domestic servants were normal. The guests were often seat-
ed only on one side of the table next to each other, in order that the servants could dish
up the meats from the other side. They coursed along the tables to serve the first, sec-
ond, third and further courses and services. Special rules, that underlined the distance
between the host and guests on the one hand, and the servants on the other, regulated
their behaviour.
A very extensive description of such habits is given by the 15th-century French
chronicler Olivier de la Marche, who discussed the ceremonial meal at the court of
Charles the Bold duke of Burgundy.10 The details of his exposition about the presenta-
tion of wash-basin and towel, the behaviour at the poison test (unavoidable in every
princely household, where such precaution was obliged), and the carving and serving
of the meats, do not need to be mentioned here. Olivier de la Marche made clear that
this court was reigned by a strict hierarchy of the personnel file, in which each person
had his own severely outlined role that pointed out his place in the whole play of re-
lations with his lord, his colleagues and his subordinates. Also on this socially highly
unequal level, the meal regulations meant a form of communication.
Olivier de la Marche also gave a vivid description of one of the most famous courtly
feasts of the Late Middle Ages, the so-called Voeux du Faisan or ‘Vows of the Pheas-
ant’.11 Here, I touch upon the second aspect of the theme ‘Alimentation as Communi-
cation’ that I want to discuss: the spiritual meaning that repeatedly accompanied the
festive meals of the Middle Ages.
A festive meal in ancient times, like today, was made up of several courses. Unlike
today however, in between those courses, always one or more ‘Entremets’ or ‘Soteltes’
(Subtilities) were arranged. Such a Sotelte could simply exist as a show-dish, e.g. a
peacock in its feathers that was carried around on a plate or a fortress made of pas-
try and sweets. Yet it was also possible to go far beyond such ‘simple’ presentation,
and perform a little theatre play near the tables. A well-known illumination, of the
14th-century Grandes Chroniques de France, shows the Conquest of Jerusalem by the
crusaders which was performed as an Entrêmet during a dinner in 1378 of the French
king Charles v with his uncle Charles iv, emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, and
his cousin Wenceslaus.12 Such a theatre play gave the dinner a deeper sense because it
reminded the table companions of the acts of the Christian chivalry.
Something comparable, only in a much larger setting, was the case of the Vows
of the Pheasant of Philip, Duke of Burgundy in Lille, February 1454. Nine months
before, the city of Constantinople, being the last buttress of Christianity in the Near
185

East, had been conquered by the Turks. In vain, the Byzantine Emperor had beseeched
the Pope and the Western European princes for decades to support him against the
Saracens. These lords, however, had been too much concerned with their own affairs
till it was too late. Then overwhelmed with pangs of conscience, the Duke of Burgun-
dy arranged the magnificent Vows of the Pheasant, a crusader’s vow that he after all
would not fulfil.
Following the description of Olivier de la Marche of this Banquet des Voeux du
Faisan, each of the three tables was loaded with several show pieces, that at the begin-
ning were inspected by the Duke and his followers. One of these works of art repre-
sented a church in the shape of a cross, in which a sounding bell and three choirboys,
with a tenor and an organ, were placed. Every time when, during the event, a new piece
was introduced for show, the boys in this church sang with organ music. The most im-
portant scene of this feast upon which all pivoted and that led to the proper crusader’s
vow, however, started with the entry of a lady in a white dress with a black coat seated
on an elephant and guided by a giant, who allegorically represented the Christian
Church. In this role, she recited an elegy in which she lamented over the sorrow of the
Church and asked the Duke for help. Then came the king-of-arms Toison d’or with a
pheasant that he offered the duke, in order that the prince from old habit could take
a vow on this noble bird. The Duke, of course fully prepared for this gesture, took a
letter from his dress, which contained his crusader’s promise against the Turks, that
he handed to the king-of-arms for reading. Greatly relieved, the lady on the elephant
departed, and all of the high guests wanted to take such a vow.
Olivier de la Marche was so overpowered by all these scenes that he hardly paid
any attention to the proper meal. He shortly told that each plate was loaded with 48
kinds of food, and that the plates with roasted meat were carriages lined with blue
and gold.13 The allegorical meaning of this feast and the Duke’s intention to publicly
announce his long-cherished desire to go on a crusade formed the real content of this
meeting, which for socially fashionable reasons had been given the shape of a banquet,
i.e. a buffet with self-service by the guests.
r e l igious m e a l s
Feasts outside the court of Burgundy, of course, could not be arranged with such
splendour, and so this pheasant’s banquet formed the summit of its kind. Neverthe-
less, was it not unusual that more common people also used the form of a meal for
shaping their religious solidarity. In the Middle Ages, a crowd of religious fraternities
existed, mostly made up of lay-people, with the purpose of caring for the widows and
orphans of their members and praying for the salvation of the deceased. Such frater-
186

nities had a saint as their patron, and operated under the tutelage of the bishop with
their own altar in the parish church. The holiday of their patron saint often was the
occasion to meet, not only in the church, but also at a meal.
We are rather well informed about such fraternities in the Netherlands, because
they were never abolished and one still possesses its own archives from the 14th cen-
tury onwards. I refer to the example of the Illustrious Our Lady’s Fraternity in the
town of ’s-Hertogenbosch14. Among many others, the painter Hieronymus Bosch was
one of its members. Originally, only clerks and schoolboys (future clerks) could be a
member, but soon after women and laymen were also admitted, be it not as ‘sworn’
members. The purpose of this fraternity was above all to undertake the celebration of
Mass twice a week in its own chapel in the church of Saint John in ’s-Hertogenbosch.
As well as this, all holidays of Our Lady and the remembrance of the deceased were
elaborately celebrated. The holy service was followed by a social meeting with bread
and wine which, in the course of time, developed into a whole meal. In the 15th and
the first half of the 16th century this custom had grown to such an extent that nine or
ten times a year a festive meal was organised. During this meal, the fraternity used its
own cutlery and crockery, decorated with the devise ‘sicut lilium inter spinas’ (like a
lily between the thorns) that referred to Our Lady. The yearly summit was reached by
the so-called ‘Meal of the Swan’, at the end of December, where swans also appeared
among the costly dishes. These swans sometimes were offered by members, sometimes
by outsiders, who then received the name of honour of ‘Swan-brother’. The most fa-
mous of these ‘Swan-brethren’ was Prince William of Orange.
In fact, over time, the meals of the Fraternity of Our Lady had become a celebra-
tion in itself. Circa 1580, in the first decade of the Eighty-Years War against Spain, due
to lack of money and because of the war, these meals had to be postponed. In the 17th
century, they were introduced again, obviously because the ‘Bossche Optimaten’ (the
elite of the town of ’s-Hertogenbosch) did not want to desist from this prestigious
ceremony for ever. Even today this custom is observed, sometimes again with a swan
prepared in the Medieval way. In the meantime the symbolic value of this meal, which
should refer to the devotion for Our Lady, has almost been forgotten, and the meal
now communicates a completely secular celebration of the victory over the Spaniards.
Transcendental value and human relationship struggled for primacy, as I have ob-
served in these two examples – the Vows of the Pheasant and the Meal of the Swan.
From the beginning, it was not an equal struggle, for even if a devotional item like a
vow was at stake, the social weight of the host brought the scales out of balance. Reli-
gious communication without material prestige, within the context of alimentation,
was in practice only possible at the archetype of the Christian meal: the Eucharist.
Bread and wine as the body and blood of Christ, enjoyed by the faithful together, in
187

the Holy Communion shaped the most real form of communication.15 It is astonish-
ing that this double function of the Eucharist, connecting people with their Saviour
and with their fellow-believers, is hardly emphasised in Medieval sources, although
life in Medieval Europe was imbued with the Christian religion.
Perhaps the Hussites in Bohemia in the early 15th century had a similar view, as the
laymen required and received the Eucharist ‘sub utraque specie’ (under both forms), i.e.
not only as bread but also as wine, which was normally reserved only for the priests.
They wanted to participate fully in the Communion with Christ, without discrimi-
nation between priests and lay-people referring to the specific occasion where Christ
had directed his disciples to be united. At this holy meal, all those faithful should have
been able to participate equally.
conclusion
The Eucharist can be seen as a meal with a communicative value, not as a form of
dining. However, also at a Medieval dinner, communication was highly constrained
and conspicuous: one should observe strict table manners in order not to offend one’s
neighbours who used the same plates, cups and table cloth. Servants in their turn
should play their intermediary role between their lord and his guests, again following
strict rules. Besides which, festive dinners could be loaded with symbolic significance,
which might even surpass their alimentary value, as in the Vows of the Pheasant at
Lille 1454. In conclusion, alimentation became a means of communication, both in a
physical and in a spiritual meaning.
In the beginning of this article the fact was discussed that in Christianity no prin-
cipal food prohibition exists, only gradual and temporal renunciation of some food-
stuffs. In this regard Christianity is unique among the religions of the world, which
on the one hand makes it extremely apt for communication with all kinds of believers
and non-believers world-wide, but on the other hand lacks the sense of being divinely
chosen as a special devotional community like e.g. the Jews. Within such a chosen
group the feeling of belonging together by food habits is much stronger than in the
average Medieval and modern regular and secular society of Western Europe, where
the sharing of food mainly has a social communicative value.
* Updated text of ‘Festive meals in the late Middle Ages: An essay on dining as a means of commu-
nication’, in: Food & History, vol. i, no 1, Turnhout 2003, 95-102.
188

not es
1 Of course, this won’t do only for the Late 10 Beaune et d’Arbaumont 1888, 1-94: ‘S’Ensuyt
Middle Ages, for also in the Early Middle l’estat de la Maison du Duc Charles de
Ages meals served as a means for making Bourgoingne, dit le Hardy’.
peace, sealing alliances, and commemorating 11 Beaune et D’Arbaumont 1884, 340-380;
the deceased. See e.g., Althoff 1987, 13-25. see for the meaning of the Medieval word
2 Thornton 1957. In Middle-Dutch ‘Banquet’, Van Winter 2014, 63-70.
comparable treatises exist, the most 12 Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, Ms.fr.2813,
famous being Die Bouc van seden: een fol.473 verso.
Middelnederlandsch zedekundig leerdicht, 13 Beaune et D’Arbaumont 1884, 353. See about
see Suringar 1891. In English a whole this feast: Lafortune-Martel 1984 and Caron
collection of such items is given by Furnivall 1996, 269-288.
2
1904 . 14 Dijck 1973.
3 See the famous discussion by Elias 2000 15 Already in early Christianity the problem
[original German, 1939], 47-52, 60-69. was discussed how to celebrate this meal,
4 Thornton 1957, 36. as is apparant in the first letter of St Paul
5 Thornton 1957, 24. to the Corinthians (i Cor.11:17-34). See
6 Thornton 1957, 68. about this problem, e.g., Garhammer
7 Thornton 1957, 31-32. 20022, 77-85, especially 79-82: ‘2.1
8 E.g., Kerer 1957, 68-71; and ‘How to serve a Der Streit um die richtige Feier des
2
lord’, in Furnivall 1904 , 349-360, esp. 354. Herrenmahls in Korinth (1 Kor.11, 17-34):
9 Thornton 1957, 16. Was war das Problem?’.
189

bi bl iogr a ph y
Althoff, G. 1897. Der frieden-, bündnis- und gemeinschaftstiftende Charakter des

Mahles im früheren Mittelalter, in: I. Bitsch, T. Ehlert and X. Von Ertzdorff (eds.),
Essen und Trinken in Mittelalter und Neuzeit, Sigmaringen, 13-25.
Beaune, H. and J. d’Arbaumont (eds.) 1888. Mémoires d’Olivier de la Marche, maître
d’ hotel et capitaine des gardes de Charles le Téméraire, vol. iv, Paris, 1-94.
Caron, M-Th. 1996. 17 février 1454: le Banquet du Voeu du Faisan, fête de cour et
stratégies de pouvoir, Revue du Nord 78, 269-88.
Dijck, G.C.M., van 1973. De Bossche Optimaten. Geschiedenis van de Illustere Lieve
Vrouwebroederschap te ’s-Hertogenbosch, 1318-1973, Tilburg.
Elias, N. 2000, The Civilizing Process, Oxford [= Über den Prozeß der Zivilisation,
Berlin, 1939].
Ervynck, A., W. Hupperetz and J.M. van Winter 1996. Papier, botten of pitten? De
kansen en problemen van een geïntegreerde aanpak van het thema middeleeuwse
voeding, in: W. Hupperetz and J.M. van Winter (eds.), Dagelijks leven op Lim-
burgse kastelen (1350-1600) – voeding en voedselbereiding –, Bijdragen naar aanleid-
ing van een studiedag in het Limburgs Museum, 10 maart 1995, Venlo, 6-23.
Furnivall, F.J. (ed.) 19042. Early English Meals and Manners, London (reprinted by the
Early English Text Society, 1st ed. London, 1868).
Garhammer, E. 20022. Gott und Gaumen: Theologisches zum Motivkomplex ‘Essen,
in: L. Kolmer and C. Rohr (eds.), Mahl und Repräsentation. Der Kult ums Essen,
Paderborn etc. (2nd and revised ed.; 1st ed. Paderborn, 2002), 77-85.
Jöns, H., F. Lüth and H. Schäfer (eds.) 2005. Archäologie unter dem Straßenpflaster.
15 Jahre Stadtkernarchäologie in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Katalog Landesauss-
tellung Wismar 2005, Beiträge zu Ur- und Frühgeschichte Mecklenburg-Vorpom-
merns 39, Schwerin.
Kerer, J. 1957. Statuta Collegii Sapientiae, Satzungen des Kollegium Sapientiae zu
Freiburg im Breisgau 1497, Lindau & Konstanz.
Lafortune-Martel, A. 1984. Fête noble en Bourgogne au xve siècle: «Le banquet du
Faisan» (1454), aspects politiques, sociaux et culturels, Cahiers d’Etudes Médiévales
8, Montreal & Paris.
Perry Thornton, Th. (ed.) 1957. Höfische Tischzuchten, Texte des späten Mittelalters,
Heft 4, Berlin.
Suringar, W.H.D. (ed.) 1891. Die Bouc van seden: een Middelnederlandsch zedekundig
leerdicht, Leiden.
Winter, J.M., van 2002. A wedding party at the Court of Holland in 1369, in: P. Ly-
saght (ed.), Food and Celebration, From Fasting to Feasting, Proceedings of the 13th
190

Conference of the International Commission for Ethnological Food Research, Slove-

nia, June 5-11, 2000, Ljubljana, 265-75.
Winter, J.M., van 2014. The Medieval banquet, Petits Propos Culinaires 100, 63-70.
k itchen scene, 1507
*
A kitchen scene, woodcut from Kuchen-meisteri
a German cookbook published in Augsburg in 1507
191

* * *
A Medieval cooking revolution:

Changing ceramic cookware ca. 1300
as a window into cooking infrastructure,
fuel, and food transitions
Roos van Oosten
i n t roduct ion
Generally, studying Medieval ceramics is focused on identifying their fabrics, rim

types, and shapes. Such technical aspects are indispensable for dating pottery and
determining provenance. However, this chapter argues that shifts in pottery are even
more interesting when, in addition to, and not instead of, interdisciplinary avenues
are explored.
As a pilot study for such an approach, the evolution of cooking pots in Medie-
val Netherlands has been chosen. The cooking pot underwent major transitions over
the course of a millennium, 700 to 1800. Fig. 1 shows, in simplified form, the evolu-
tion of the Medieval cooking pot in the Middle Ages.1 In the Merovingian period,
cooking pots, known as Wölbwandtopfe, were bucket-shaped, with a flat base and
a wide mouth.2 From ca. 7253 the Kugeltopf (globular pot) with a round base and a
small mouth began to be widely used. Around 1300, the generally greyish, handmade
Kugeltopf transformed into a redware tripod cooking pot (known as grapen in Dutch
archaeology) with one or two handles.4 The tripod cooking pot flattened out in the
16th century,5 becoming wider and shorter, and eventually underwent a complete
makeover in the 18th century.
My pivotal argument will be that this shift in cooking pots reflects a shift in a)
cooking infrastructure, b) type of fuel used, and c) food consumption. The theoretical
framework that links these three changing aspects of food production with cookware
is visualised in Fig. 2 as the tripod model. Following an elaboration of this model of
Medieval change, this chapter will focus on one particular shift in ceramic cookware

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113483

usage that began ca.1300. As will be demonstrated below, in this period not only were
globular pots replaced by tripods, but the types of ceramic cookware used changed
drastically and suddenly as well.
Using the term revolution to describe this change would seem legitimate. The term
revolution has also been chosen because it hints at the fact that the shift occurred in
the wake of the urban revolution, a concept common in archaeology since Gordon
Childe’s study describing the phenomena of emerging towns.6 To better understand
this revolution, two subquestions will be dealt with in this chapter: were there any
fundamental changes in cooking infrastructure, food, and fuel in the same period,
and if so, how and why were these interlinked?
t h e t r i pod mode l
To explicate the ramifications of the tripod model (Fig. 2) and the interconnection
between fuel, food, cooking infrastructure, and cookware, I shall begin with an exam-
ple from my own kitchen. First of all, the connection between food and cookware is
perhaps the most obvious; when I boil potatoes, I select a different pan than when I fry
potatoes or when I cook porridge. But the other connections also exist. My family and
I recently moved from a rental flat equipped with a gas cooker to a freehold house with
an induction cooker. I can no longer use the wok that I used for years on the gas cooker
because its bottom is somewhat concave and does not sit flat on the induction cooker.
In other words, cooking infrastructure and cookware are interrelated. Furthermore,
fuel also influences the kind of cookware needed. The potato pan that I had been using
for years did have a flat bottom, but the induction cooker was not able to make contact
with it, as it contained no ferromagnetic metal (‘the pan does not say click’). Because
of this new cooking infrastructure, I had little choice but to buy new cookware. These
connective mechanisms are present in today’s kitchen, but did they exist in the past
as well? To address this question, I now look at what scholars have said about these
interconnections in other historical contexts.
The art of cooking as a window into wider social developments remains under-re-
searched archaeologically,7 but there are compelling exceptions. In Mediterranean
archaeology, findings about the relationship between the type of pot used and the
food cooked in it have burgeoned. The idea has arisen that open cooking pots were
used to stew (low-temperature cooking), while closed pots were used to prepare small
portioned delicacies such as vegetables.8
There are indications that this theory may be true for hearth equipment in the
Post-Medieval period as well. For instance, Hyman and Hyman studied 346 recipes
from a 1540 Paris cookbook and found out that ‘a relationship existed not only be-
194

va n o os t e n – co ok i ng r e volu t ion
tween specific cooking methods and specific foods, but between cooking methods and
the place the food occupied in the meal’.9
The German architectural historian Kaspar argues for an extensive connection
between cooking infrastructure, fuel, and food. Firstly, he argues that to the east of
the Weser River the ‘table hearth’ was introduced in the 16th century and a separate
kitchen emerged,10 while to the west of the river, the hearth remained on the ground,
was used both for cooking and heating and continued to function as the representa-
tive centre of the house.11 Kaspar, following Gamerith, argues that the presence of the
ground hearth hindered the introduction of refined cooking.12 Meals that required a
minimum of stirring or turning – one-pot meals such as Pottharst (porridge) – were
preferred in the Westphalia region. This basic meal continued to be the primary food
consumed not only because a fire on the ground meant the cook had to sit,13 but also
the possibility of regulating the temperature was limited. Kaspar further acknowl-
edges that the kind of fuel used affected the food cooked: using coal would not have
allowed for frying or grilling meat.14
In Dutch urban archaeology, the influence of food, fuel, and cooking infrastruc-
ture on ceramic morphology is only touched upon occasionally. It is generally accepted
that the round fire cover developed into a flat one,15 indicating that the central fire
place16 was replaced by a wall fire place with a hearth. Some claim that the replacement
of globular vessels (Kugeltopf ) by tripod cooking pots stems from the introduction of
paved floors in the Late Middles Ages; globular pots would have wobbled too much
on paved floors.17 There is definitely more than a scintilla of truth in the round-to-flat
theory of fire covers and the ‘wobble’ hypothesis of pots, as we will see below. These
theories require refinement, and to explore them, we will first focus on the changing
ceramic repertoire. However, it must be stressed that in situ evidence to support these
claims is lacking. In other words, examples of different ceramic types being found in
association with different types of fire places cannot be brought into the discussion.
t h e pot t e r’s ch a ngi ng product ion c a . 1300
In the Late Medieval period, Utrecht was an important pottery centre in the Neth-
erlands,18 with potters located in and around the town.19 At the Bemuurde Weerd
site (1275-1350), more than five pottery furnaces and over 40 pits with pottery wasters
have been excavated, yielding approximately 3500 pottery wasters (i.e. misfired items).
Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd is an extraordinary key site in this regard. Major transitions
are apparent, such as the shift from handmade to wheel-made pottery, the transfor-
mation from red to greyware, and the changing ceramic repertoire. Although these
transformations are touched upon in several publications,20 no extensive analysis has
195

been published other than in an ma thesis by van Rooijen. A serious shortcoming is

that the various types of ceramics have not been drawn, only photographed, making
it necessary to refer to similar finds found elsewhere, but with the aid of the numbers
presented in this thesis, we can get a sense of the shift.21
The eleven pits with the highest quantities of cookware have been selected in order
to make a stacked graph (Fig. 3). The ranking of the pits in Fig. 3 is from oldest (1275) to
most recent (1350).22 This sequence is based on seriation. Pits that contain more hand-
made rather than wheel-made pottery and contain more greyware than redware are
expected to be older. The light grey bars represent cooking pots without legs (globular
pots) and dark grey bars represent cooking pots with legs (tripods). There is a definite
shift that can be pinpointed ‘ca.1300’ when Kugeltopf were no longer produced. In the
same period the number of frying pans appearing increased dramatically. Nearly 300
specimens have been found among the pottery wasters in Utrecht. The oldest frying
pans had a concave bottom and a short, hollow handle (cf. Fig. 5.7), while the more
recent ones had a flatter bottom and a solid handle.23 Frying pans had a specific dis-
tribution pattern; they appeared much more frequently in the coastal provinces than
in the inland provinces.24 Furthermore, both frying pans and drippings pans disap-
peared from the ceramic record as of 1600.25 Evidently, they were typically Medieval.
Another type of ceramic cookware the Utrecht potters produced were dripping
pans (cf. Fig. 5.8), which were placed under a spit of roasting meat in order to collect
the drippings.26 Also a piece of a brick spit-support (cf. Figs. 5.4, 5.5) was been found
at the site, although it is not clear whether the item was produced on location.27 Two
other fire place related items found were fire covers (cf. Fig. 5.6) and extinguishers (cf.
Figs. 5.1, 5.2, 5.3).28 Their functions will be discussed below (See Table 1).
type mni
(Van Rooijen 1993)
Globular (cooking) pots A 1427
Tripod (cooking) pots B 377
Frying pans D 308
(approximately 40% with hollow handles and 60% with solid
handles)
Dripping pans K 26
Fire covers M 24
Extinguishers Q 2
Brick spit support - 1
table 1 – Fireplace related items found at the Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd site (R. van Oosten).
There is no doubt that the flourishing of pottery production carried out by full-time
specialists at Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd 29 went hand in hand with the emerging
196

urbanisation of the town Utrecht.30 The question remains whether the two trends
– changing ceramic repertoire and urbanisation – can be linked more precisely by
focussing on the three areas of food production: cooking infrastructure, food con-
sumption, and fuel use.
ch a ngi ng cook i ng i n f r a st ruct u r e
Jozef Weyns commences his four-volume monumental reference work Volkshuisraad

in Vlaanderen (‘Folk Furniture in Flanders’) with chapters on equipment used on and
around the hearth. He did so because domestic life was focused on the hearth – ‘het
belangrijkste orgaan van het huis’ (‘the most important organ of the house’).31 The
catchphrase may be somewhat archaic, but Weyns is correct that the hearth was a
key component of domestic life; its fire was used for heating, lighting, and cooking.32
His scheme of the evolution of the fire place is simple:33 in the 15th century fire places
set into the wall were introduced, replacing the central fire place on the ground/floor
where the family could gather around.34 Weyns is not very specific about this central
paved fire place, but they did not have a proper chimney. The primitive method of
discharging fire gases – a roof hole – meant that the house was often filled with smoke.
Such a ‘smokehouse’ had only a ground floor and usually consisted of not more than
a single room.
More is known about the transformation from the central fire place to the hearth
at the wall. Zantkuijl, an influential Dutch architect and architectural historian,
agrees that the fire place was ‘one of the most important elements of the house,35 but
unlike Weyns, he bases this claim on construction patterns. The shift to a space at the
wall advented a chimney that directed the smoke out of the house. A chimney allowed
for taller houses with several floors36 and most of the time this shift led to a division of
the ground floor into a front room and a backroom.37
Having established the importance of the hearth, it is remarkable that the ‘germ
cells for changes’,38 on the part of archaeologists have received little attention till re-
cently.39 Taking stock of more than 300 house plans from urban sites in the Neth-
erlands (dating mostly after 1200) carried out in the Malta period (i.e. contract
archaeology after the Treaty of Malta), yielded 80 houses with a fire place. Evident-
ly the ‘hearth at the wall’ was introduced much earlier than Weyns and Zantkuijl
claimed. The oldest example dates from the 13th century and ten are known from the
14th century.40 But it was only after 1500 that houses in towns were no longer con-
structed with one central hearth.
A closer look to the archaeological data further shows that in the evolution of
the fire place, the two-stage development presented by Weyns must be refined and
197

augmented. Rather than Weyns’s amorphorous central fire place, two specific types
of central fire places have emerged from the data.41 Prior to 1200, the fire place was
not situated on or above the floor, but was a fire pit.42 Examples have been found at
the Rotterdam-Markthal site, where three shallow, round fire pits (8-15 cm deep with
diameters of 1-1.25 m) have been uncovered. These fire pits date to the first half of the
11th century and were clearly recessed in the loam floor.43 It seems safe to conclude
that globular pots were used in these central, shallow fire pits as sherds of globular pots
were found in two of the fire pits.44 Rotterdam-Markthal is indeed a ‘Kugeltopf site’.
In the 13th century the fire pit acquired a central plain paved hearth. This can be
best seen at the Rotterdam-Willemsspoortunnel site. Here two series of house plans
have been excavated: one series on the north side of the Hoogstraat, dating 1280-1300,
and a series on the south side, dating 1300-1325.45 At the centre of each dwelling is
a kind of island in the earthen floor, a more or less circular hearth, flat, paved with
bricks,46 similar to 13th-century fire pits that have been found at several sites in Am-
sterdam.47 Recently uncovered hearths at the Kampen-Margaretha site, dating from
the 14th century, that are bigger and more sophisticated has been uncovered. Three
hearths have been found there that vary in design but have the following features in
common: a smaller inner quadrangle and a larger outer quadrangle; the inner quad-
rangle, the hearth proper, is made from upright roof tiles laid in a rushmat pattern; the
outer quadrant is also made of roof tiles. The rest of the floor seems to be unpaved.48
Similar rushmat hearths have been found elsewhere, for example in Utrecht, but the
state of completeness in Kampen is exceptional.49
Considering the developments of hearth types, we can establish that the transfor-
mation from a loam floor to a paved floor took place in two stages: first only the hearth
was paved and then later the entire floor was. The use of globular pots with legs can at
best seen as an indication of a paved hearth but not necessarily an indication of a paved
floor. The ‘wobble’ theory will be further dealt with below.
sh i f t i ng food consu m p t ion pat t e r ns
A shift in cooking infrastructure had a sure-fire influence on ceramic cookware, but

whether it also affected consumption patterns is more difficult to ascertain because of
a dearth in overview studies.50 Jozien Jobse-van Putten’s Eenvoudig, maar voedzaam
(‘Simple, but Nutritious’) is a monumental monograph on Dutch mealtimes in the
period 1300-1900. Jobse-van Putten states that the common people ate pottage in the
Late Middle Ages.51 The popularity of this kind of dish was, according to her, direct-
ly related to the primitive cooking infrastructure of the hearth.52 As we saw earlier,
Kaspar also suggested a similar connection: the primitiveness of the fire would have
198

hindered the introduction of refined cooking.53 In ’s-Hertogenbosch, botanical re-

search from cesspit samples indicated that the primary grain consumed was rye, and
a realistic assessment is that the town dwellers consumed 750 grams per day.54 Bo-
tanical research cannot, however, tell us how the rye was prepared. Jobse-van Putten
assumes that eating bread remained a luxury till 150055 and that the majority probably
consumed rye porridge. In addition to rye, it is also likely that Medieval porridge
contained meat (and for that reason was called hotch-potch) as opposed to Post-Me-
dieval pottage. According to Jobse-van Putten, after 1500 meat consumption dropped
dramatically, and until the 19th century the average person was vegetarian.56
Jobse-van Putten’s study does not describe what people ate prior to 1300, but given
the even more primitive cooking infrastructure at that time, it is fair to assume that
it must have been a kind of pottage. The ingredients of that pottage could have been
more limited in terms of fresh vegetables and likely more limited in seasoning than
in the Late Middle Ages.57 Given the primitiveness of fire pits, baking, roasting, and
frying fresh meat and fish may have been limited.
If Jobse-van Putten is correct about the higher meat consumption in the period
1300-1500, then the occurrence of a larger number of dripping pans and frying pans
in the Middle Ages than in the Post-Medieval period in the province of Holland,58
may also be an indication of increased meat consumption. Another explanation for
the disappearance of ceramic dripping and frying pans during the 17th century is that
metal pans rather than ceramic pans became the norm.59 Jobse-van Putten’s claim of
higher meat consumption should be tested archaeologically, but studies of the con-
sumption of cow, pig, sheep/goat or other mammals are not available yet. 60 What is
evident is that there is a slight increase in the percentage of cow bones in relation to the
two other main meat sources, pig and sheep/goat, in the archaeological record in the
Rotterdam region; cow bones make up approximately 57 percent of all bones found
from the 10th century and 66 percent of those from the late 13th century.61
Fish consumption changed as well. Unfortunately an overview study of changing
fish consumption ca. 1300 is not yet available for the north of the Low Countries, but
studies of fish remains in the south of the Low Countries suggests that the sea fish
trade began before the end of the first millennium.62 Furthermore, the Late Medi-
eval period was the heyday of fish consumption.63 The consumption of fresh water
fish declined and marine fish (amongst others, cod and herring) accelerated64 due to
urbanisation that started earlier in the south than in the north of the Low Countries.
While we have a clear overview of fish consumption in the south of the Low Coun-
tries,65 the information on the regional distribution pattern of ceramic cookware is
less specific than in the north of the Low Countries. Also in the south, frying pans be-
came an important kind of cookware in the 13th-16th centuries,66 but whether frying
199

pans were as popular as in Holland, is yet unclear. In sum, we can discern three trends,
the consumption of marine fish increased (at least in the south of the Low Countries),
there was a slight increase in cattle remains in the region of the town of Rotterdam,
and there was a high percentage of frying pans in Holland from ca. 1300 till ca. 1500.
At this moment, we can only say that to what extent these trends are interlinked is
hard to determine as long as regions and time periods from which we have data do not
overlap precisely.
sh i f t i ng f u e l a n d f i r e
The influence of fuel is even more difficult to ascertain than are changing dietary prac-
tices. In general, however, the change in fuel types is clear: in the early Middle Ages
wood was the primary fuel used for domestic fires, in the Late Middle ages peat was
primarily used, and in the Post-Medieval period peat was replaced by coal. Pinpoint-
ing these transitions in a specific area is, however, difficult. It has been known for quite
some time that in contrast to England and Germany, Holland and Flanders experi-
enced a shortage of fire wood during the Middle Ages.67 It is only recently, however,
that it has been known that for a specific town, i.e. Ghent, the forests were already
being exploited in the 12th century.68 It has also been demonstrated that in a specific
area in the province of Brabant during the period 1260-1300, peat was systematical-
ly exploited.69 While we know that households turned to peat, ‘very little known is
about the domestic use of peat’,70 and turf is difficult to proof archaeologically.71 Also
coal as an alternative fuel to wood was known in the Middle Ages and was used in
specific regions in the south of the Low Countries, such as the coal producing region
of Liège,72 but in the north of the Low Countries coal was used primarily for black-
smithing and lime production.73 Peat remained important for domestic households
till the second half of the 18th century.74 Whether the shift from cooking with peat
instead of wood influenced cooking is difficult to verify.
pi eci ng t h e e l e m e n ts i n si t u toget h e r
Thanks to the Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd data, we are able to pinpoint the sudden and
significant changes in ceramic cooking repertoire ca. 1300 – tripods replaced globular
pots, frying pans were used on a large scale, and to a lesser extent, dripping pans and
spit supports were used. Furthermore, we have established the presence of major and
minor transformations in the Late Middle Ages in the three areas of food production:
cooking infrastructure, food consumption, and fuel use. However, whether the no-
ticeable ceramic change, which I have termed ‘Medieval cooking revolution’ directly
200

reflects fundamental changes in the three areas is more difficult to determine. Re-
search from the south of the Low Countries shows that urbanisation brought about a
switch from wood to peat as fuel and an increase in the consumption of marine fish.
Whether these transitions took place in the north of the Netherlands as well can only
be hypothesized due to an absence of any overview studies. The most direct influence
on the ceramic repertoire is to be expected from the cooking infrastructure. We have
established that there was a three-step development. First there were hearth pits (as-
sociated with globular pots), second, there were central paved fire places, and finally a
paved hearth at the wall (which would have meant a saving of fuel, see below).
If we are to establish the validity of the ‘wobbling’ hypothesis, we need to know
how pots were placed in relation to the fire. Were pots placed in smouldering fires, next
to fluming fires, or did they hang above fluming fires? (And how were globular pots
pulled out the fire without burning fingers and making a mess?) There is hardly any
archaeological information on this aspect of hearth cooking. Some globular pots from
the province of Friesland had a special kind of earlike extension, so-called Schutzklap-
pen,75 so they could be suspended on a pole beside the hearth.76 From archaeological
finds from the province of Drenthe, we know that globular pots could also have been
put on a chafing dish.77 However, archaeological indications for hanging and putting
the globular on a chafing dish are exceptions, the vast majority of globular pots may
have been put into the (wooden/charcoal smouldering) fire pit.
We are also poorly informed how ceramic tripods were placed in relation to the
fire. Cooking pots with only one ear could not have hung, and would have had to
stand next to or in the fire. Tripods with two ears, which seem to have appeared slight-
ly later, could theoretically have hung above the fire. However, scuffed ears as an in-
dication of such a practice are rare. Whether wobbling would be an issue with paved
floors depends on how pots were placed in the fire. Placing a one-ear cooking pot into
a (smouldering, wooden?) fire, would not necessarily have required legs.
A first approach to gain a better understanding of historical cooking is paying sys-

tematic attention to the distribution of soot on cookware. We have to be aware that a
fluming fire would immediately blacken a pot, but a slow smouldering fire would not.
Therefore, if a one-ear cooking pot only shows soot opposite the ear, this may indicate
that the pot stood next to a burning fire and was not put directly into the fire. We
can infer the connection between soot and an open flame from a series of historical
cooking experiments I and several colleagues undertook in which we discovered the
different effect a fluming fire and smouldering embers have on a pot in terms of soot
(Fig. 4).78 It is not very likely that Medieval people who prepared their porridge or
hotch-potch on a daily basis and must have mastered the art of cooking with a fire,
201

would have placed ceramic pots in or above a fluming fire, like we did; they would have
known, unlike us, that the pot will run the risk of cracking due to thermal shock (Fig.
4b). Therefore, obvious soot patterns may not have appeared on most ceramic pots
because they were not placed directly in fires.
More and better experiments in tandem with systematic analysis of soot patterns
are necessary to understand the position of the pot in the fire, notwithstanding that
the experiments helped to understand fuel use somewhat better. We underestimated
the required barbecue charcoal and during the experiment used extra bags to keep the
fire smouldering. Heating pots on a bed of charcoal requires a very large amount of
fuel. Historical examples of charcoal use vary from 35 m3 to 70 m3 annually per house-
hold in 18th-century Germany.79 A later source (1821) states it clearly: ‘No process of
cookery is more troublesome, or attended with a greater waste of fuel, than roasting
meat before an open fire.’80 In addition, energy efficiency was extremely low: 10 per-
cent.81 However, this 10 percent meant a 200 percent improvement of efficiency, as
Cornelisse assumes that a hearth in the middle of the house only reached five percent
efficiency.82 The shift from the hearth in the middle of the house to the wall could have
meant an enormous savings in fuel and may have allowed more focus on cooking itself
rather than on keeping the fire burning.
A second approach to gain more information about cookware is considering in situ

evidence. In other words, we need to know which ceramic cookware was associated
with what kind of fireplace. Sites providing such information are rare: there are hardly
any uncovered house plans dating from the period when globular pots were transi-
tioning to tripod cooking pots that both include an intact hearth and an extensive
report of the ceramics found.83 The earlier mentioned series of house plans from Rot-
terdam-Willemspoortunnel do meet these requirements.84
As stated earlier, at this location two series of house plans have been excavated:
one series at the north side of the Hoogstraat. dating 1280-1300 and a series on the
south side of the Hoogstraat, dating 1300-1325. The series of houses on the north side
has yielded a steady stream of ceramic data that reveal two interesting points. Firstly,
there seems to be no evidence that the tripod cooking pot was introduced at the same
time as paved hearths. Globular pots have been found, but full-fledged tripods were
absent. Carmiggelt already noticed this and wrote that tripods were introduced only
in the second quarter of the 14th century85 (maybe even half a century later than in
Utrecht). Carmiggelt’s claim, however, needs to be approach with some caution: two
pots have been found which may be interpreted as a kind of transition type between
globular pots and tripods. Those pots, which are normally denoted as cooking jugs,
do not have the long legs, but have small feet. Some are provided with an ear.86 While
202

the quantitative analysis of the Utrecht production site suggests that the replacement
of globular pots by tripods was sudden (Fig. 3), the globular pots found at Rotterdam-
Willemsspoortunnel suggest a more gradual transition. Therefore, the traditional ex-
planation that ‘paved fireplaces made the potter produce non-wobbling pots’ must be
quantified with the statement that the transformation was not sudden but gradual.
Secondly, the paved hearths are, however, associated with new ceramic cook or
hearth ware: the plots on the north of the Hoogstraat have yielded eight frying pans,
one dripping pan, four probable brick supporters and seven extinguishers (Table 2).
Although we do not know exactly how frying pans and dripping pans were positioned
on, above, or next to the hearth, the data suggests that a more sophisticated fire place
(i.e. a central paved hearth) seems to have been a precondition for the innovation of
frying and roasting with ceramic ware. Whether this development could have taken
place in tandem with the consumption of more fresh meat or marine fish remains
hypothetical.
houses nh1-nh7 houses zh1-zh2

(1280-1300) (1300-1325)
Globular cooking pot Yes, at least 39 shards, mni is not known Not mentioned in the text
Tripod cooking pot No, but at least one cooking jug is present No, but maybe at least one cooking jug is
present
Frying pans >7 mni out of which 4 had hollow handles 2 or more mni
Dripping pans >1 mni
Extinguisher >7 mni in or nearby the house, at least 11
on site
Brick spit supporter 4 or 5 mni in context of the houses, at least
8 on site
Fire cover 2
Ash pot 1 reused greyware jug and 1 impression in
the ground of an ash pot
table 2 – Ceramic fireplace related items found at two series of houses with central paved hearths
at the Rotterdam-Willemsspoortunnel site, 1280-1325, see note 44. Data retrieved from Carmiggelt
1997, 143-54, 161-68.
The Rotterdam site tells us slightly more about extinguishers and brick spit supports.
The typology and function of brick spit supports have been scrutinized by Heidinga
and Smink. They collected 67 items, mainly from museum collections, that had no
information on the find circumstances and context of the items.87 By comparing the
items with pictorial evidence,88 they concluded that they were used to support a spit;
the holes in the support held the spit in place when it was turning. Dripping pans were
203

placed under the spit to collect the fat. They considered these items as a high-status
item, as roasting suggests the consumption of fresh meat from young animals rather
than salted or dried meat.89 Like extinguishers, these items were laboriously decorated
(with Kerbschnitt decoration), on four sides. The authors rightly point to the fact that
this makes sense in the glimmering light of the fire place, after all, ‘the fireplace is
visual (and often the only illuminated) and emotional centre of the house’.90 Because
all sides of the brick supports are decorated, Heidinga and Smink suggest that brick
spit supporters would have been used in the central fire place, where all sides could be
visible.91 Thanks to the Rotterdam site, their hypothesis could be confirmed.
Extinguishers are lid-like items92 decorated with Kerbschnitt. It is thought that
the flat side was used to smother sparks and the ash.93 Interestingly, at the Rotterdam
site, another series of house plans was uncovered, dating somewhat later (1300-1325).
Of the six houses (zh1-zh6), three central fire places were preserved. Only a few ce-
ramic items were found (Table 2), but what is remarkable is that extinguishers were
completely absent, but round ceramic fire covers were present, and an ash pot next to
the hearth was also found. This suggests that the function of the extinguisher became
redundant when a fire cover was used. (You do not need two ceramic items to prevent
fire.) The advantage of a fire cover over an extinguisher is obvious: a fire cover allows
the fire to smoulder safely, thanks to oxygen holes (Fig. 5.6). More in situ evidence
would be welcomed to test this conclusion.
The shift from frying pans with hollow handles (Fig. 5.7) to solid handles (prior to
1350, see Table 1) is attributed to the introduction of the swinging crane or fire place
hangers.94 The oldest type of frying pan, according to this theory, would have stood
in the hot ashes, while the more recent frying pans were thought to have swung from
the hook of a hanger, as is portrayed in Pieter Aertsen’s 1560 Boerengezelschap met
pannenkoekenbackster, a painting of a pancake house. The Rotterdam site did indeed
yield frying pans with hollow handles, but whether the shift from central fire places to
fire places in the wall went hand in hand with a morphological transformation could
only be verified if a similar series of house plans with fire places in the wall existed. If
such a marvellous site would be found, another idea could also be tested: were cooking
pots with two handles (that could have been hung) more closely related to the hearth
at the wall than the central fire place? Would a hearth at the wall allow for a swinging
crane or a fire place hanger more easily than a central hearth would?
conclusion: to be con t i n u e d
After refining the evolution of the fire place, I also refined the ‘wobble’ hypothesis and
provided a more comprehensive description of hearth equipment. However, this study
204

was not able to explain in detail how and if the major and minor shifts in cooking
infrastructure ca. 1300 were interlinked with shifts in fuel and food consumption for
three main reasons.
(1) – Shifts in changing food consumption in the transition phase of ca. 1300 are not
yet researched in great detail. The suggestion that frying and roasting could corre-
spond with a higher consumption of marine fish and fresh meat of young animals,
must remain hypothetical.
(2) – The ‘Pompeii-like’ 13th-century house plans needed to adopt an interdisciplinary
analysis of in situ evidence at the micro level are thin on the ground.
(3) – Pottery use-alterations analysis in other areas of archaeology may has become
routine,95 but residue analysis and studying the distribution of soot patterns has not
been systematically incorporated into Dutch Medieval archaeology. 96
We are left with more questions: what types of ceramic cookware were associated
with what types of hearth? When did the shift from wood to peat as a fuel for domes-
tic fires take place? Did this generate more fluming than smouldering fire, and how
did this shift influence the practice of cooking? Where were globular pots, tripods,
and frying pans situated in relation to the fire (e.g. above or next to the fire), and how
did the changing type of heat source (fire pit, paved fire place, sophisticated paved fire
place, and fire place at the wall) affect this? My efforts at finding answers to these and
other questions show that applying the tripod model allowed for a broader scope of
inquiry than ceramic typology alone would have and invite an exploration along new
interdisciplinary lines. We can only set out on this interdisciplinary journey in ear-
nest when in addition to the traditional typological focus (and not instead of!), new
methods are embraced.
*
I am very grateful to the many colleagues who were so kind as to suggest relevant liter-
ature and discuss ceramics, cooking infrastructure, food, and fuel with me. I also wish
to thank Kerry Fast (Toronto) for helping me with the English text.
205

not es
1 I wish to thank several colleagues for des choses, Paris, Biblioteque nationale
providing the sketches for Fig. 1a: Frank van Département des manuscripts, Français 218,
Spelde (Archol), Fig. 1b; Arjan den Braven folio 373.
(Leiden University), Fig. 1d; and Leo den 12 Gamerith 1971, 84; Kaspar 1997, 69-70, 84,
Hollander (Leiden). 89.
2 Van Spelde 2014. 13 Kaspar 1997, 84.
3 See Verhoeven’s 1998 monograph 14 Idem. True, the scent of coal burning is
on globular pots; for dating (in the nauseating, it poisons the air, generates
Netherlands), 34; for the distribution of ‘pervasive environmental pollution’, and
globular pots in Europe, 30, fig. 4. ‘blackens buildings’ (Sieferle 20012, 89-92).
4 About this transformation, see Verhoeven However, using wood was not on option
1998, 279-80. for the working class; as of the 17th century,
5 Bartels 1999, 122; van Oosten 2011, 81-83. wood burning was ‘a sign of an elevated
6 Childe 1950. For a discussion on the lifestyle’ (Sieferle 2000, 90). In the event
increasing urbanisation rate in the Low that open fires would have continued to be
Countries, see van Bavel 2010, 278-82. used, would the working class have stopped
7 Kaspar 1997, 69-70; Graff and Rodriquez- frying and grilling?
Alegría 2012, 3-5; Twiss 2013, 140. 15 Zantkuijl 1993, 28; Bartels 1999, 110.
8 Vroom 2008, 301. Closed cooking pots 16 I use the generic term ‘fire place’ to indicate
might be related to a higher consumption all types of cooking infrastructure where fire
of stewed pig meat (Arthur 2007, 18, 26, fig. was used. This is not a reference to any one
9). Vroom 2008, found no evidence for this type of cooking infrastructure.
in her case study of Butrint, Albania, and is 17 De Groot and van Rooijen 1990, 23-24;
more cautious (302). Ostkamp 2013, 33-35, 82.
9 Hyman and Hyman 1987, 87-88. 18 Bartels 1999, 106.
10 Kaspar 1997, 83. An earlier date for the table- 19 For an overview up to 2012, see van Oosten
high hearth cannot be excluded, attesting the 2012, 135 (fig. 1), 136.
following source from 1475, Die Hausbücher, 20 De Groot and Hoekstra 1986, 58-60; De
der Nürnberger Zwölfbrüderstiftungen, Groot and van Rooijen 1990, 23-24.
Amb. 317.2° Folio 95 recto (Mendel i),www. 21 Van Rooijen 1993, 143-74. In order to analyse
nuernberger-hausbuecher.de the data, I entered them in a database.
11 For one of the earliest pictures of a hearth at 22 The relative date follows the ranking by van
the wall, see Jan van Groenendaal, Werken, Rooijen 1993, 112. About the absolute date,
ca. 1400. Brussel, Koninklijke bibliotheek see idem, 115-16.
van België, Werken, ii 138, fol. 2r and 23 Van Rooijen 1993, 30-31; van Oosten and
Barthélémy l’Anglais, Le Livre des propriétés Bult 2012, 235-36.
206

24 Van Oosten and Bult 2012, 239-41. 40 Cleijne forthcoming chapter 16, in
25 Idem, 243-44. particular, fig. 16.2.
26 Van Rooijen 1993, 45; Bartels 1999, 110. 41 For more specific detail about the fire place
27 Van Rooijen 1993, 62, fig. 54. in the building, see Huijberts forthcoming
28 The fact that extinguishers have been found 2017a and idem 2017b.
among pottery and tile wasters contradicts 42 Herpen-Wilgendaal site, house 3, 11th
the traditional assumption that those century, one fireplace: 1 m x 0.90 m, 25 cm
products were made at brick production sites deep (Ball and Janssen 2002, 158-61).
(Heidinga and Sminck 1982, 76, following Sint-Oedenrode site, building 2, two fire
Dorgelo 1960). places (1075-1175 and 1175-1225), one round,
29 The presence of full-time specialists is a and both with some, but no depth specified
second hallmark of a town. See Childe (Peters 2010, 174-75).
1950, 11. Cuijk-Groot Heiligenberg site, three succes-
30 Utrecht was one of the earliest towns in the sive fire places in one house, dimensions 40
northern Netherlands that urbanised (van to 110 cm and 90 to 138 cm, taper from 59 to
Vliet 2000), followed a little later by towns 23 cm (Heirbaut 2007, 47-52).
in Holland. About the regional differences Zutphen-stadhuis site, house 2, 800-882, one
of urbanisation, see van Bavel 2010, 278-82. fire place, round, 2.30 m. 40 cm deep. There
31 Weyns 1974, 139: see Weyns 1974, 32 for may be a structure around the fire place
another such description. (Coster 2011, 43).
32 Fock 2001, 51; Schepers 1973, 75. Zutphen-stadhuis site, house 3 (1125-1175),
33 See also Zantkuijl 1993, 28 and Schepers one fire place quadrangular, 2.40 m, 60 cm
1973, 75. (Coster 2011, 72). More fire places have been
34 Weyns 1974, 32-33, 34 and 125-27. found at this site, but it is unclear whether
35 ‘[de stookplaats is] één van de belangrijkste these are situated in houses.
elementen van het huis, Zantkuijl 1993, 28; Deventer-Polstraat kwartier site, 900-950,
see also Klück 1990, 64. fire place, shallow (Mittendorff 2007, 131).
36 Zantkuijl 1993, 26. A well-known example Deventer-Polstraat kwartier site, 950-1000,
from Dutch archaeology of roof tiles on house 197-H15B, the fireplace is somewhat
their side, laid in a rushmat pattern has recessed from the floor and is encircled by
been found in Haarlem, dating to the 15th a rim of tufa stones (Mittendorff 2007, 169
century: see Schimmer 1974; idem 1977, 5. and 180).
37 Kaspar 1985, 158. 43 Vredenbregt and van Trierum 2012, 56.
38 Schepers 1973, 75 (‘Keimzellen für 44 For Rotterdam-Markthal, see Bult 2012.
Änderungen’). Globular pots associated with the fire place
39 For exceptions, see Vlierman 1992, Kylstra have been found at Herpen-Wilgendaal (Ball
1990, and Klück 1990. More research has and Janssen 2002, 158-61) and Cuijck-Groot-
been done in Germany; see Klein et al. 2007. Heiligenberg (Heirbaut 2007, 47-52).
207

45 Carmiggelt 1997. For a short general and Franka Kerklaan (Archaeofish).

summary, see Carmiggelt 1997, 261-64. For suggestions on botanical literature I
-House nh1, no evidence of a hearth. would like to thank Corrie Bakels (Leiden
-House nh2, 2 hearths on top of each other, University), Koen Deforce (Flemish
pavement brick (147). Heritage Institute), and Henk van Haaster
-House nh3, 1 hearth, paved bricks (150). (biax).
-House nh4, 2 hearths, oldest with a 51 Jobse-van Putten 1995, 83.
wooden formwork, more recent hearth of 52 ‘[D]e populariteit van deze spijzen
bricks (150). [brijachtige gerechten] hield direct verband
-House nh6, 3 hearths on top of each other met de gebrekkige kookplaats van die tijd,
(153). het open vuur’, Jobse-van Putten 1995, 149.
-House zh1, 1 hearth of four levels, but 53 See note 12.
disturbed (161). 54 Van Haaster 2008, 66-67.
- House zh2, 1 hearth (163). 55 Jobse-van Putten 1995, 83.
- House zh3, 1 hearth, apparently, no brick, 56 Jobse-van Putten 1995, 90-91 and 97.
but burnt clay (164). 57 The variety of spices and herbs used – black
46 What may be an early feature is that these mustard, fennel, caraway, and parsley –
hearths were paved with bricks and not with became only more widespread in the Late
better fire proof material such as floor tiles, Middle Ages (Livarda and van Veen 2008,
roof tiles, fired bricks, or stone. 206-7).
47 Baart 2001, figs. 1, 4, 5, and 7. For a 58 Van Oosten and Bult 2012, 239-42.
systematic overview of these hearths, see 59 idem, 242-44.
Huijberts forthcoming (2017), chapter 3. 60 Thanks to Inge van der Jagt (Culture
48 Klomp 2015, 41-45; 42, fig. 9; 45, fig. 12. Heritage Agency) for sharing her views on
Photos can also be found on the Facebook this topic.
page of the excavation. 61 10th century sites – N=274, 29.2% sheep/
49 For Utrecht: for example, at Janskerkhof 16 goat, 14.2% pig; 11th/12th – ca. N=529, cow
(see, De Bruijn 2012; van Rooijen and van 62.9%, sheep/goat 16.1%, and pig 21%; data
der Mark 1998, photo on 130); Bakkerstraat retrieved from Vredenbregt and van Trierum
25 (Klück 1990, 56-57). A rushmat hearth 2012, 70-71; ca. 1300 – N=107, cow 66%,
has also been found in Haarlem (Schimmer sheep/goat 25%, and pig 8%. Rotterdam-
1974; 1977), although it may be dated a little Willemsspoortunnel site, data retrieved from
later; in this case not only the hearth was Carmiggelt 1997, 145, table 3; 172, table 9.
paved, but also the floor. 62 Ervynck et al. 2004, 232.
50 For suggestions of literature on fish 63 Van Neer and Ervynck 2007, 45, 49-51; idem
consumption, I would like to thank Jan 2016.
Bakker (University of Amsterdam), Anton 64 Idem 2016, 167.
Ervynck (Flemish Heritage Institute), 65 The rise of marine fish consumption could
208

be true for the north of the Low Countries drawing shows a hearth at the wall, although
as well. This would explain the large amount the hearth is situated some distance from the
of fish remains from the early urban site non-brick wall. A wooden pole projects from
Dordrecht-Statenplein (Dorst 2014, 188). the wall on which (metal?) tripod cookware
66 De Groote 2008, 246 and 252. is suspended. Schepers 19772, 135, fig. 88.
67 For Holland, see Cornelisse 2008, 26, 42, 77 This would have saved fuel and provided a
243; for Flanders, see Weyns 1974, 47. more regulated heat. Jasper 2012, 65-66. A
68 Deforce 2016. chafing dish has been found in Peezer-en
69 Leenders 1989, 308. His study area consists Eeldermade.
of a quadrangular area between the towns 78 Three experiments were carried out: 21
Antwerp, Turnhout, Geertruidenberg, and May 2014 in Oegstgeest; in addition to the
Willemstrad (Leenders 1989, 30 and 32). author, present were Claudia Vandepoel (De
70 Gerding 1995, 357 in Deforce et al. 2007, 87. Historisch Keuken; the historical Kitchen),
71 Deforce et al. 2007, 87-88. Fenno Noij, and Frank van Spelde; 27
72 Cornelisse 2008, 238-43, in particular 243; June 2014 Oegstgeest: Claudia Vandepoel
coal was known already in the 12th century (Historisch Keuken) Fenno Noij, Channa
in the Meuse valley (Sneller 1946, 10). Cohen Stuart, and Addy Meewisse; and
73 Although brewers in Rotterdam already 24 August 2014 in The Hague, Claudia
used coal in the early 17th century (Sneller Vandepoel (Historische Keuken), Okke
1946, 68). Rotterdam was an important coal Dorrenbosch, Addy Meewisse, and Frank
port (idem, 74). van Spelde.
74 The town council of Rotterdam noted on 79 Sieferle 20012, 64.
4 January 1763 that ‘the use of coal in the 80 Willich et al. 1821, 181, entry ‘roaster’.
domestic hearth became more popular’ 81 Sieferle 20012, 65; see on this subject also
(Sneller 1946, 65). Also in Germany, the shift Cornelisse 2008, 27.
to coal occurred in the second half of the 82 Cornelisse 2008, 39.
18th century (Sieferle 20012). Peat burning 83 One of the more rare recent excavations at
is depicted in some paintings from the late which a central hearth was uncovered is plot
18th century (Fock 2001, 301 311): Jacob A of the Dordrecht-Statenplein site (Dorst
Cats, Keuken in het huis van Jacob Cats, 2014, 33, fig. 20). However, the pottery has
1769-1770; D.A. Clemens, Salon met twee not been published yet (Dorst 2014, 188-
dames en een heer, ca. 1775. 89). Some uncovered archaeological sites in
75 In Dutch: zwaluwnestoren (Verhoeven 1998, Amsterdam with paved central hearths are
163-65). very interesting in this respect. However,
76 I am not aware of either archaeological or not all their results have yet been published.
pictorial evidence of such a pole beside the House plans from various sites, among
hearth. What comes close to such a pole is a them Nieuwe Langedijk 154-158 have been
1798 drawing from Minden, Germany. The published: Baart 2001; see also Huijberts
209

forthcoming b. The ceramics have been 88 A roasting scene from the Lutrell Psalter, ca.
published; see Gawronski 2012, appendix 1. 1340.
The available data of the Nieuwe Langedijk 89 Heidinga and Smink 1982, 77.
site 154-158 suggests that globular pots and 90 Heidinga and Smink 1982, 74.
frying pans were present in the 13th century, 91 Heidinga and Smink 1982, 75.
however, a more detailed analysis is needed 92 An older overview article described them as
to draw better conclusions. lids, see Dorgelo 1960.
84 The description in the text is elaborative, 93 Carmiggelt (1997, 198) is not satisfied
although, it would have been even more with the conclusion that crushed ash was
precise if a list or table of the exact number a valuable resource as an abrasive in house
of pots and types per feature were provided. cleaning. The suggestion of ash as ingredient
85 ‘Grapen lijken pas vanaf het tweede kwart of abrasive comes from Klück 1990, 74-75.
van de 14de eeuw in Rotterdam voor te 94 Van Rooijen 1993, 78-79; De Groot and van
komen’ (Carmiggelt 1997, 187). Rooijen 1990, 30.
86 Carmiggelt 1997, 181, fig. 85.2 (without an 95 Skibo 2014, 196.
ear, context on the plot of house nh2), 182, 96 Residue analysis of 17th-century pots seems
fig. 86.5 (with one ear, context unknown to to be carried out more often than those of
me). Fig. 85.2 is known as type r-kan-50 in 13th-century pots. Poulain et al. 2016 carried
the Dutch classification system. out residue analysis on some Post-Medieval
87 Heidinga and Smink 1982, 73. pots.
210

bi bl iogr a ph y
Arthur, P. 2007. Pots and boundaries: On cultural and economic areas between Late
Antiquity and the early Middle Ages, in: M. Bonifay and J.C. Tréglia (eds.), Late
Roman Coarse Wares, Cooking Wares and Amphorae in the Mediterranean: Ar-
chaeology and Archaeometry, Volume i, BAR International Series 1662.1, Oxford,
15-28.
Baart, J. 2001. Medieval houses in Amsterdam, in: B. Dahmen, M. Gläser, U. Oltmans
and S. Schindel (eds.), Lübecker Kolloquium zur Stadtarchäologie im Hanseraum
iii: Der Hausbau, Lübeck, 159-74.
Ball, E.A.G and R. Janssen 2002. Van steentijd tot middeleeuwen: archeologisch onder-
zoek rond een fossiele beekloop te Herpen-Wilgendaal, Archol-rapport 11/Archeolo-
gische Rapporten Maaskant 17 Leiden, Leiden.
Bartels, M. 1999. Vondsten uit beerputten in Deventer, Dordrecht, Nijmegen en Tiel
(1250-1900) [= Cities in sherds. Finds from cesspits in Deventer, Dordrecht, Nijmegen
and Tiel (1250-1900)], 2 volumes, Zwolle/Amersfoort.
Bavel, B., van 2010. Manors and Markets. Economy and Society in the Low Countries
500-1600, Oxford.
Bitter, P. 1986. Archeologisch bodemonderzoek in het bouwterrein van C&A Ne-
derland aan de Haarlemmerstraat en Spijkerboorsteeg te Leiden, in: L. Barendregt
and H. Suurmond-van Leeuwen (eds.), Bodemonderzoek in Leiden. Archeologisch
jaarverslag 1985, Leiden, 85-152.
Bitter, P., S. Ostkamp, N. Jaspers, H. Clevis forthcoming 2017. Opzoekschema’s De-
ventersysteem.
Bult, E.J., 2012. Aardewerk, in: A.H.L. Vredenbregt and M.C. van Trierum (eds.),
Rotterdam-Markthal. Archeologisch onderzoek 1. Bewoningssporen en vondsten uit
de Romeinse tijd en de prestedelijke periode (10e-11e eeuw): zes opeenvolgende huizen
op terpophogingen in de nederzetting Rotta, boor-rapport 469, deel 1, Rotterdam,
85-130.
Carmiggelt, A.H. 1997. Laat- en postmiddeleeuwse bewoningssporen aan de Hoog-
straat te Rotterdam, in: A. Carmiggelt, A.J. Guiran, M.C. van Trierum (eds.),
Archeologisch onderzoek in het trace van de Willemsspoortunnel te Rotterdam, Boor-
balans 3, Rotterdam, 139-278.
Childe, V.G. 1950. The urban revolution, Town Planning Review 21, 3-17.
Cleijne, I. forthcoming 2017. Hoofdstuk 16: Vergelijking, in: I.J. Cleijne, A.M.J.H.
Huijbers, A.D. Brand, R.J.W.M. Gruben (eds.), Huizenbouw en percelering in
de late middeleeuwen en nieuwe tijd in tien steden Oogst van Malta: archeologisch
onderzoek uit de periode 1997-2014, ’s-Hertogenbosch/Amersfoort.
211

Cornelisse, C. 2008. Energiemarkten en energiehandel in Holland in de late mid-

deleeuwen, Hilversum & Leiden.
Coster, C. 2011. Wonen en werken in het centrum van prestedelijk Zutphen. Archeo-
logisch onderzoek naar structuren uit de opgravingen Zutphen Stadhuis en Kui-
persstraat 1 (gem. Zutphen), Zutphense Archeologische Publicaties 65, Zutphen.
De Bruijn, M. 2012. Een claustraal huis van Sint-Jan in Utrecht (op het achterterre-
in tussen Janskerkhof 16 en 17). http://www.broerendebruijn.nl/Claustraalhuis.
html#_ftn4 (date last checked 01/12/2016).
Deforce, K. 2016. Wood use in a growing medieval city. The overexploitation of woody
resources in Ghent (Belgium) between the 10th and 12th century AD, Quaterna-
ry International (2016). http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.quaint.2016.09.059 (date last
checked 01/12/2016).
Deforce, K., J. Bastiaens and V. Ameels 2007. Peat re-excavated at the Abbey of Ename
(Belgium): archaeobotanical evidence for peat extraction and long distance trans-
port in Flanders around 1200 AD, Environmental Archaeology 12.1, 87-94. doi
10.1179/174963107x172750
De Groot, H.L and T.J. Hoekstra 1986. Baksels en misbaksel. Resten van een mid-
deleeuws industriegebied, Vondsten uit het verleden. Oudheidkundig bodemonder-
zoek, Natuur en Techniek, Maastricht & Brussel, 46-61.
De Groot, H. and C. van Rooijen 1990. De Utrechtse aardewerk-industrie in de Be-
muurde Weerd, in: H.L. de Groot (ed.), Het vuur beschouwd. Festschrift ter gelegen-
heid van de opening van het Archeologisch Bouwhistorisch Centrum, Utrecht, 11-33.
De Groote, K. 2008. Middeleeuws aardewerk in Vlaanderen. Techniek, typologie,
chronologie en evolutie van het gebruiksgoed in de regio Oudenaarde in de volle en
late middeleeuwen (10de-16de eeuw), Relicta Monografiën 1, 2 delen, Brussel.
Dorgelo, A. 1960. Middeleeuwse versierde deksels, Berichten rob, 9-1959, 119-38.
Dorst, M.C. 2014. Stadsontwikkeling op het Statenplein, een archeologisch onderzoek.
Opkomst en ondergang van een 14e-eeuwse ambachtswijk in Dordrecht, Dordrecht
Ondergronds 40.
Ervynck, A., W. van Neer and M. Pieters 2004. How the North was won (and lost
again). Historical and archaeological data on the exploitation of the North At-
lantic by the Flemish Fishery, in: R.A. Housley and G. Coles (eds.), Atlantic Con-
nections and Adaptations. Economies, Environments and Subsistence in Lands
Bordering the North Atlantic, Oxford, 230-39.
Fock. C.W., 2001. 1600-1650, in: C.W. Fock (ed.), Het Nederlandse interieur in beeld
1600-1900, Leiden, 16-80.
Gamerith, A., 1971. Feuerstättenbedingte Kochtechniken und Speisen, Ethnologie
Scandinavia, 78-86.
212

Gawronski, J., 2012. Amsterdam Ceramics. A City’s History and an Archaeological

Ceramic Catalogue 1175-2011, Amsterdam.
Graff, S.R. and E. Rodríguez-Alegría (eds.) 2012. The menial art of cooking, in: E.
Rodríguez-Alegría and S. R. Graff (eds.), The Menial Art of Cooking: Archaeolo-
gical Studies of Cooking and Food Preparation, Boulder (co), 1-18.
Haaster, H., van 2008. De introductie van cultuurgewassen in de Nederlanden tijdens
de Middeleeuwen, in: A.C. Zeven (ed.), De introductie van onze cultuurplanten
en hun begeleiders, van het Neolithicum tot 1500 AD, Vereniging voor Landbouw-
geschiedenis, Wageningen, 53-104.
Heidinga, H.A. and E.H. Smink 1982. Brick spit-supporters in het Netherlands, 13th-
16th century, in: J.G.N. Renaud (ed.), Rotterdam Papers iv, 1982, 63-82.
Hyman, Ph. and M. Hyman 1987. Cooking methods and mediums in 16th century
France, in: T. Jaine (ed.), Oxford Symposium on Food & Cookery, 1986. The Cooking
Medium: Proceedings, London, 85-88.
Heirbaut, E.N.A. 2007. Cuijk-Groot Heiligenberg. Onderzoek en opgraving van bron-
stijderven en een middeleeuwse nederzetting, Archol-rapport 47, Leiden.
Huijberts, A. forthcoming 2017a. Hoofdstuk 3: Stand van zaken, in: I.J. Cleijne, A.M.
J.H. Huijbers, A.D. Brand and R.J.W.M. Gruben (eds.), Huizenbouw en percelering
in de late middeleeuwen en nieuwe tijd in tien steden. Oogst van Malta: archeologisch
onderzoek uit de periode 1997-2014, ’s-Hertogenbosch & Amersfoort.
Huijberts, A. forthcoming 2017b. Hoofdstuk 3: Verklaring, in: I.J. Cleijne, A.M.J.H.
Huijbers, A.D. Brand and R.J.W.M. Gruben (eds.), Huizenbouw en percelering in
de late middeleeuwen en nieuwe tijd in tien steden. Oogst van Malta: archeologisch
onderzoek uit de periode 1997-2014,’s-Hertogenbosch & Amersfoort.
Jaspers, N.L. 2012. Laat- en postmiddeleeuws aardewerk, in: S. Zandboer (ed.), Kom-
foor op terp 5. Archeologisch onderzoek rond een veenterp te Peinze en de Weteringse
dijk, ADC-rapport 3133, 57-70.
Jobse-van Putten, J. 1995. Eenvoudig maar voedzaam: Cultuurgeschiedenis van de
dagelijkse maaltijd, Nijmegen.
Kaspar, F. 1997. Die Herdstelle als Indikator von Nahrungsgewohnheiten, in: G.
Wiegelmann and R.E. Mohrmann (eds.), Nahrung und Tischkultur im Hanse-
raum, Münster, 69-94.
Kistemaker, J.G.M. 1983. Archeologisch onderzoek op het terrein van de voorma-
lige Hartebrugschool aan de Haarlemmerstraat in Leiden, in: D.E.H. de Boer,
L. Barendregt and H. Suurmond-van Leeuwen (eds.), Bodemonderzoek in Leiden
Jaarverslag 1983, Leiden, 169-80.
Klein, U., M. Jansen and M. Untermann (eds.) 2013. Küche, Kochen, Ernährung:
Archäologie, Bauforschung, Naturwissenschaften; Tagung Schwäbisch Hall, 6. bis
213

8. April 2006, Mitteilungen der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Archäologie des Mit-
telalters und der Neuzeit 19, Paderborn.
Klomp, M. 2015. Kampen, Geertruidengasthuis, Nieuwstraat/Burgwal, Overijssels
Erfgoed. Archeologische en bouwhistorische Kroniek 2014, 32-46.
Klück, B. 1990. Huis en Haard, in: H.L. de Groot (ed.), Het vuur beschouwd. Fest-
schrift ter gelegenheid van de opening van het Archeologisch Bouwhistorisch Centrum
Utrecht, Utrecht, 55-76.
Kylstra, E. 1990. Er warmpjes bijzitten? De verwarming van de grote 13de-eeuwse ste-
nen huizen, in: H.L. de Groot (ed.), Het vuur beschouwd. Festschrift ter gelegenheid
van de opening van het Archeologisch Bouwhistorisch Centrum Utrecht, Utrecht,
41-54.
Leenders, K.A.H.W. 1989. Verdwenen venen. Een onderzoek naar de ligging en ex-
ploitatie van thans verdwenen venen in het gebied tussen Antwerpen, Turnhout,
Geertruidenberg en Willemsstad 1250-1750, Gemeentekrediet, Historische uitgaven,
reeks in-8, nr. 78.
Livarda, A. and M.van der Veen 2008. Social access and dispersal of condiments in
North-West Europe from the Roman to the medieval period, Vegetation History
and Archaeobotany, 17.1, 201-9.
Mittendorff, E. 2007. Huizen van heren. Archeologisch onderzoek naar het proces van
verstedelijking en de vorming van de stedelijke elite in het Polstraatkwartier van De-
venter, ca. 800-1250, Rapportages Archeologie Deventer 20, Deventer.
Neer, W., van and A. Ervynck 2007. De zoölogische studie van de ontwikkeling
van de exploitatie van de zee: een statu quasetionis voor Vlaanderen, in: A.M.J.
de Kraker and G. Borger (eds.), Veen-Vis-Zout. Landschappelijke dynamiek in de
zuidwestelijke delta van de Lage Landen, Amsterdam, 45-54.
Neer W., van and A. Ervynck 2016. The rise of sea-fish consumption in inland Flan-
ders, Belgium, in: J.H. Barrett and D.C. Orton (eds.), Cod and Herring. The Ar-
chaeology and History of Medieval Sea Fishing, Oxford, 156-71.
Ostkamp, S. 2013. Aen taefele. Eten en leven in de late middeleeuwen. De collectie Aad
Penders, Hoorn.
Peters, S. 2010. Sint-Oedenrode Kerkstraat. Archeologisch onderzoek. baac-rapport
A-05.0339.
Poulain, M., J. Baeten, W. De Clercq and D. de Vos 2016. Dietary practices at the
castle of Middelburg, Belgium: Organic residue analysis of 16th- to 17th-century
ceramics, Journal of Archaeological Science 67, 32-42.
Rooijen, C.A.M., van 1993. Scherven, erven en evolutie: analyse van een deel van de
stedelijke keramiek ateliers in de Utrechtse Bemuurde Weerd tussen circa 1275 en
1350, Amsterdam, unpublished ma-thesis, University of Amsterdam.
214

Rooijen, C.A.M., van and R. van der Mark 1998. Voorstraat/Boothstraat, Archeolo-
gische kroniek van de provincie Utrecht 1996-1997, 125-131.
Schepers, J. 1973. Vier Jahrzehnte Hausforschung; Beiträge zur Baugeschichte in Nord-
west- Europa; Festgabe zum 65. Geburtstag (compiled by S. Baumeier en A. Hueser),
Sennestadt.
Schepers, J. 19772. Haus und Hof Westfälischer Bauern, Münster (1st ed. 1960).
Schimmer, J. 1974. Een opgraving in een 15de-eeuws huis buiten de stadswallen van
Haarlem en het conserveren van een deel van een daar aangetroffen vloer, Wester-
heem 24 5, 294-306.
Schimmer, J. 1977. Opgravingen in de voormalige bank van lening, Haarlems Bode-
monderzoek 5, 3-13. Available at: http://www.archeologischmuseumhaarlem.nl/
publicatieshbo.htlm (date last checked 01/12/2016).
Schuurman, A.J. 1987. Het gebruik van vertrekken in de 19de-eeuwse Zaanse wonin-
gen, in: P.M.M. Klep, J.Th. Lindblad, A.J. Schuurman, P. Singelenberg and Th. van
Tijn (eds.), Wonen in het verleden, 17de-20ste eeuw. Economie, politiek, volkshuisves-
ting, cultuur en bibliografie, Amsterdam, 231-48.
Sieferle, R.P. 20012. The Subterranean Forest: Energy Systems and the Industrial Revo-
lution, Cambridge (1rst ed. 1982).
Skibo, J. M. 2014. Pottery use-alteration analysis, in: J.M. Marreiros, J.F. Gibaja
Bao and N. Ferreira Bicho (eds.), Use-wear and Residue Analysis in Archaeology,
Houten, 189-98.
Sneller, Z.W. 1946. Geschiedenis van den steenkolenhandel van Rotterdam, Groningen
& Batavia.
Spelde, F., van 2014. Typochronology and classification of Merovingian ovoid pots, in:
H. Clevis (ed.), Assembled Articles 5, Zwolle 11 and 12 October 2012, Zwolle, 97-116.
Twiss, K.C. 2013, review of: ‘The menial art of cooking: Archaeological studies of cook-
ing and food preparation’, edited by S.R. Graff and E. Rodríguez-Alegría, 2012,
Cambridge Archaeological Journal, 23.1, 140-41. doi: 10.1017/S0959774313000140
Oosten, R.M.R., van 2011. Garbage in, garbage out? To what extent are inventory lists
of the classification system a reliable guide for chrono-morphological development,
in: Clevis H. (ed.), Assembled Articles 4. Symposium on Medieval and Post-Medie-
val Ceramics, Zwolle 16 and 17 September 2010, Zwolle, 73-88.
Oosten, R.M.R., van 2012. Het vertrek van de veertiende-eeuwse pottenbakkers uit de
Bemuurde Weerd: verplicht of vrijwillig? Een herinterpretatie van de historische
en archeologische gegevens, Oud-Utrecht, 133-50.
Oosten R.M.R., van and E.J. Bult, 2012. Het laatmiddeleeuwse bakpannenraadsel:
voer voor archeozoölogen?, in: R. van Genabeek, E. Nijhof, F. Schippers, J. Tre-
ling (eds.) Putten uit het Bossche verleden. Vriendenbundel voor Hans Janssen ter
215

gelegenheid van zijn afscheid als stadsarcheoloog van ’s-Hertogenbosch, Alphen aan
de Maas, 235-50.
Verhoeven, A.A.A. 1998. Middeleeuws gebruiksaardewerk in Nederland (8ste-13de
eeuw), Amsterdam Archaeological Studies 3, Amsterdam.
Vlierman, K. 1992. Koken en kookgerei op (binnenvaart-)schepen 1300-1900, in:
Quintessens. Wetenswaarsdigheden over acht eeuwen kookgerei, 15.8.92-18.10.92, Mu-
seum Boymans-van Beuningen Rotterdam, Rotterdam.
Vliet, K., van 2000. De stad van de burgers, in: R.E. de Bruin, P.D. ’t Hart, J.J. van
den Hoven van Genderen, A. Pietersma and J.E.A.L. Struick (eds.), Een paradijs
vol weelde. Geschiedenis van de stad Utrecht, Utrecht, 73-111.
Vredenbregt, A.H.L. and M.C. van Trierum (eds.), 2012. Rotterdam-Markthal. Ar-
cheologisch onderzoek 1. Bewoningssporen en vondsten uit de Romeinse tijd en de
prestedelijke periode (10e-11e eeuw): zes opeenvolgende huizen op terpophogingen in
de nederzetting Rotta, boor-rapport 469, deel 1, Rotterdam.
Vroom, J. 2008, Dishing up history: Early Medieval ceramic finds from the Triconch
palace in Butrint, Mélanges de l’Ecole française de Rome – Moyen Âge, 120.2, 291-305.
Weyns, J. 1974. Volkshuisraad in Vlaanderen; naam, vorm, geschiedenis, gebruik en
volkskundige belang der huiselijke voorwerpen in het Vlaamsche land van de Mid-
deleeuwen tot de Eerste Wereldoorlog, Antwerpen.
Willich, A.F.M., Th. Cooper and Katherine Golden Bitting Collection on Gastrono-
my 1821. The Domestic Encyclopedia, or, A Dictionary of Facts and Useful Knowledge,
Chiefly Applicable to Rural & Domestic Economy: With an Appendix, Containing
Additions in Domestic Medicine, and the Veterinary and Culinary Arts, Philadel-
phia, also available online: https://archive.org/details/psdomestic00reel01.
Zantkuijl, H.J. 1993. Bouwen in Amsterdam: het woonhuis in de stad, Amsterdam.
216

fig. 1 – The development of cooking pots in the north of the Lower Countries (R. van Oosten).
fig. 2 – A theoretical visualisation of the tripod model (R. van Oosten).
217

fig. 3 – The percentages of the three most common types of cook ware found at the pottery produc-
tion site Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd (1275-1350) (Data retrieved from Van Rooijen 1993, graph R. van
Oosten).
218

fig. 5 – Ceramic fireplace related items, ca. 1300, found in the proximity to the central paved hearths,
at the Rotterdam-Willemsspoortunnel site. However, not all the drawings were retrieved from this
site. Drawings 6-9 were retrieved from other 13th- and 14th-century sites in The Netherlands.
1. Extinguisher, Carmiggelt 1997, 186, fig. 95.4 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300) | 2. Extinguisher, Carmiggelt
1997, 186, fig. 95.5 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300) | 3. Extinguisher, Carmiggelt 1997, 186, figs. 95.1a, 1b (Rot-
terdam, 1280-1300) | 4. Brick spit support, Carmiggelt 1997, 185, figs. 94.1, 5 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300) |
5. Brick spit support, Carmiggelt 1997, 185, fig. 94.3 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300) | 6. Fire cover, Kistemaker
1983, 178, fig. 10 (Leiden, 14th century) | 7. Frying pan, Bitter 1986, 110, fig. 14 (Leiden, 1325-1375) | 8.
Dripping pan, Bitter et al. forthcoming 2017, entry r-vet-5 (Gouda, 1300-1350) | 9. Globular pot, Bitter
et al. forthcoming 2017, entry kp-kog-6 (Hoorn, 1275-1290).
219

* * *
L A T E M E D I E VA L
&
E A R LY M O D E R N P E R I O D

* * *
a limenti, a r rosto
*
Miniature from Tacuinum sanitatis, Lombardy, late 14th century
Courtesy of Biblioteca Casanatense, Rome, Ms. 4182

* * *
From table to identity:

Understanding social changes
through tableware
(A case study of San Paolo in Modena, Italy)
Mauro Librenti, Cecilia Moine & Lara Sabbionesi
i n t roduct ion
The religious life of the Catholic world in the 16th century had been deeply marked
by the Counter-Reformation, a religious, social and political movement that arose in
opposition to the Protestant Reformation; for this reason also known as the Catholic
Reformation.1 The movement was based on the ecumenical Council of Trent (1545
and 1563), which addressed a wide range of subjects – from the Mass to the Sacred
Scriptures – questioning and reforming the interpretative, doctrinal and procedural
aspects of religion. This movement caused a deep reform of all the religious expressions
that affected not only the secular and regular communities, but also the everyday life
of the laity. Above all, the Counter-Reformation deeply changed the monastic rules,
especially focusing on nunneries, whose discipline became extremely strict and severe-
ly applied.2
The goal of this paper is to understand these changes, before and after the Counter-
Reformation, in a specific religious community – the nunnery of San Paolo in Mode-
na – through archaeological records. We focus our attention on the material culture,
particularly the pottery items connected with food preparation and consumption. We
assumed that the objects were not only functional items, but also means to express
messages and instruments of social display; they are fundamental evidence in inter-
preting the role that food preparation and mealtimes played in the social dynamics
within any community.
The symbolic values of mealtimes and food processing in Medieval and Early
Modern society have been analysed by numerous scholars, underlining the cultural
223
FHG
Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 223-244 (+ plates pp. 382-383) © 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113484

overtones and their roles in the representation of many individuals and groups.3 The
table was a real stage for this representation, and many actions and elements played a
meaningful part including places at the table, order in serving dishes, the quality and
quantity of food. All these components contributed to characterising a specific social
structure. The communal meal represented a ritualised activity, both in the secular
environment and in religious communities. Moreover, the meaning of food consump-
tion within monasteries was enriched by precise religious references and taboos, pre-
scribed by rules and organised by liturgical calendars.4 Often, written records, such
as Medieval handbooks of good manners or monastic rules, describe all the details
of food, from cooking characteristics to spices. On the contrary, table settings are
scarcely described.5
The lack of information in texts dramatically contrasts with archaeological finds,
the latter mainly comprising of glass and pottery fragments. These are the better stud-
ied categories of finds, with the serious risk of overestimating their role in social dy-
namics.6 However, they offer the chance of analysing mealtime habits through direct
sources, rather than theoretical codes.
The effects of the Council of Trent on social behaviour have been underlined by
a few Italian archaeologists. They focused their attention on ceramic items found in
nunneries, studying the changes in supply, decorative features and use.7 In particular,
a very specific trend was noticed from this period: the constant presence of marks
scratched on tableware by nuns.8 However, the transformation in choices in the use
of table and cooking wares within the same community, from before to after the
Counter-Reformation, has never been analysed. Thus, our case study, the nunnery of
San Paolo in Modena, represents an extraordinary opportunity to go deeper into this
topic. The life of the community had been particularly troubled in the years before
the Council of Trent. Furthermore, the rescue excavation undertaken in the cloister
disclosed two large assemblages of pottery, used by the nuns in two different but sig-
nificant periods. One of these periods dated from 1475 to 1500 (N=880), and the other
from 1575 to 1600 (N=1069). These pottery assemblages offered us a unique opportu-
nity for comparing the material cultures before and after the Counter Reformation.
This paper analyses typologies, decorations, forms and other features of the two
ceramic data-sets, comparing the supply and social meaning of the objects. Firstly,
we analysed the context in its wider meaning, for instance, within long-term history
issues and evolution of monastic buildings. Secondly, we considered significant ar-
chaeological assemblages; we have tried to understand how they were formed, where
the materials came from and by whom and when these objects were used. Finally, we
focused on table settings and cooking pots, evaluating form and dimensions as clues to
their function, considering the distribution of typologies and the meaning of specific
224

l i br e n t i , moi n e & s a bbion e s i – ta bl e to i de n t i t y
decorations and items in Late Medieval and Early Modern society. Differences and
similarities with standard designs are considered key factors in framing the identity
of the community.
Our analysis suggests that the 15th-century community was deeply integrated with
the secular society and the nuns celebrated their identity using typical strategies of the
lay environment. However, the 16th century is characterised by a significant separa-
tion of the nunneries from society; the material culture also became an expression of
dissent and discomfort with the new Counter-Reformation rules. c.m. & l.s.
a t rou bl e d h istory:
t h e com m u n i t y at t h e e n d of t h e 15t h- ce n t u ry
The history of the nunnery of San Paolo had a troubled beginning that helped us to
understand the archaeological contexts clearly. In the third quarter of the 15th centu-
ry, the nuns still lived in the buildings of Santa Maria della Misericordia, outside the
city walls. It was an ancient and prestigious institution, founded in the 13th century
and controlled by a few local families.9 From 1483 onwards, the religious commu-
nity was brought to trial several times under the pressure of the Duchess of Ferrara,
Eleanor of Aragona, wife of Ercole I of the d’Este family, a family who controlled
the district of Modena. Secular behaviour, negligence of religious duties, and sexual
affairs were reported by several witnesses.10 The laxity of monastic habits, particularly
in the decades before the Counter-Reformation, affected several religious institutions,
above all nunneries. However, it was not always prosecuted by public and ecclesiastical
authorities. Moreover, it is often difficult to understand if the accusations of the nuns
were legitimate, or were exploited to put nuns on trial and take their land.
The steps taken in this critical period are not clear; the nuns probably changed
their Order from Cistercian to Augustinian, when a group of regular canons from
Bologna were transferred to Modena to correct and reinforce their devotion. The ab-
bess, Pellegrina Algardi, and a few other sisters, were ejected from the community
because of their bad reputations.11 However, the verdicts of their trials suggest that
the interest in Santa Maria della Misericordia concerned economic resources, as much
as morality. In 1491, the nuns were forced to leave their abode permanently, and their
property was assigned to a male Cistercian community, very close to the Duchess and
the d’Este family.12
The nuns moved to an emergency location, a small house near the parish church of
San Paolo, which was found during the archaeological excavation.13 This was certainly
a difficult period. The new location was largely unsuitable for religious life, and the
patrimony was largely lost. c.m.
225

a rch a eologic a l e xc avat ions a n d mona st ic design
Archaeological excavations have been carried out in the southern district of Modena,
within the area of the Late Medieval city walls (Fig. 1.1). They covered a huge area
(about 3500 sq. m) during the investigation and restoration of the buildings of the
monastery of San Paolo.
As in many other northern Italian towns, the peripheral zones of the former Ro-
man town of Modena were rebuilt in the 11th and 12th centuries. Many religious in-
stitutions settled here in the new urbanised zones, including the parish church of San
Paolo (with a polygonal apse in Gothic style) in 1192 (Fig. 1.2).
The establishment of the religious community in the late 15th century (Fig. 1.3)
was identified through archaeological records. Customised pottery with the acronym
of the community seems to prove the presence of nuns.14 In this phase, three new
buildings were erected in the area: a small house with two rooms and a portico, a
building with several rooms in the churchyard and a long building down the road.
This was probably the emergency location of the community during a sort of ‘transi-
tional phase’, which starts with the move from Santa Maria della Misericordia to the
construction of a proper nunnery.
Only between the end of the 15th and the early 16th century (Fig. 1.4) was a tradi-
tionally organised monastic complex built, destroying all the older buildings except
the church. The new nunnery comprised of two main wings (northern and southern)
with two floors and windows only on the internal facade. They were connected on
the west by a service building, with several functions, and along the eastern perimeter
wall by a portico.
Although there was no proper cloister, a large courtyard was built next to the
church. The moat, once running along the city wall, was diverted into an underground
brick channel that passed through the monastic area. Its original course was reclaimed
to build other structures. Rapidly, new buildings were erected in the western area and
existing structures were enlarged. A second floor was added to the western service
building and windows were created in both the internal and external facades. A new
cloister was built next to the church, and new buildings were erected along the road.
Finally, the Modern Age is characterised by a new campaign of restoration of the
buildings around the cloister, which started at the end of the 16th century. Precisely
in this phase, a huge amount of pottery was deposited in the vaults of the monastic
structures and buried inside the northern building.
At the beginning of the 17th century, the Gothic apses of San Paolo Church were
partially demolished to host a separate area, the so-called ‘internal church’, which was
reserved for worship by the nuns. m.l.
226

pot t e ry a n d wa st e disposa l i nsi de t h e mona st e ry
The excavations inside the nunnery of San Paolo produced a large amount of pottery.
Here we focus on two particular assemblages: two different, and almost complete, table
and cooking sets recovered from two different waste deposits in separate areas of the
monastic precinct. These assemblages are securely dated through archaeological data.
The earlier assemblage, composed almost entirely of pottery, was dumped in the
fill of the moat which was reclaimed to enlarge the monastic precinct at the end of the
15th century (Fig. 2 and Fig. 3). It is well known that waste was a common material
for landfill during the Middle Ages. Cases of organised waste collection from all the
citizens are well documented.15 However, in San Paolo, the decoration of many dishes
suggests the provenance of rubbish from the religious community, as is suggested by
customised pottery.
Moreover, many objects were almost complete or repairable, fractures were clear
and there were no residual fragments, so it can be assumed that the set had been
dumped directly into the trench when the moat was reclaimed. Perhaps with the
renovation of the monastic areas at the end of the 15th century, the nuns also felt it
necessary to replace these everyday objects.16 In this assemblage are 880 objects, 18 of
them residual (older items than the other pottery, dating back to the last quarter of
the 15th century). However, not all the pottery from the dump was recovered during
the excavations, due to recent building in the area. Decoration of dishes follows the
fashion of the period, and is very common in secular communities in Modena. They
are highly decorated containers with a wide range of figurative subjects, typical of
‘graffita rinascimentale’, ‘a decoro semplificato’, ‘arcaica tardiva’ and ‘a stecca’ types. In
addition, many items were monochrome or painted slip and glazed ware. Decorative
subjects could have a double interpretation: for instance, the pierced heart is a symbol
of love, as well as devotion.
The second context is dated to the last quarter of the 16th century, and consists of
large pits excavated for the disposal of a sizeable amount of waste inside a building dur-
ing a further period of restoration. In this case, again the recovered material is mainly
pottery (Fig. 2 and Fig. 4). However, waste had been collected in a previous dump
before being deposited in the pits, so the objects were at least in secondary deposition;
in fact, fragments of the same objects were found in different pits and there were cross-
fits between different pits. The almost total lack of residual materials, metals, animal
bones or other items, and, above all, the relative homogeneity in the chronology of the
objects in the pits, suggests that such waste was not the monastic dump, but a selected
deposit, formed over a relatively short time. If so, the nuns had decided to dump their
entire table and cooking sets in one go. All the assemblages present homogeneous
227

materials, and fragments of objects have been recovered in many pits. In addition,
in the pit SU 356, a few more recent containers have been identified: two slip-glazed
pots and a sgraffito slip-painted bowl, from the last quarter of the 16th and the early
17th centuries. These few items do not influence the interpretation of the whole table
setting. The total amount of pottery from the pits is 1090 individual pieces.
Due to the large number of finds, we have chosen to count the minimum number
of individuals. With regards to the tableware, only vessels with at least 50% of the base
have been taken into account. In the case of the extremely fragmentary coarse ware,
we have chosen to distinguish different objects by different types of shape of body and
rim. Finally, glazed cooking pots have been counted based on the fragments of rims
comprising at least part of the handle. l.s.
t h e 15t h ce n t u ry:
a secu l a r ta bl e set t i ng
As noted above, materials from the 15th century were probably in use by nuns in the
transitional phase, when the nuns were forced to move from the previous location to
the new temporary building. Indeed, many dishes are decorated with the acronym
‘sp’ (San Paolo). Moreover, the recurrence of the letters ‘sm’, probably Santa Maria
(della Misericordia), suggests that part of the monastic table setting had been used
in the original nunnery, the monastery of Santa Maria della Misericordia, and then
taken to its temporary home near the church of San Paolo. The pottery, and its con-
text, confirm dating to around the last quarter of the 15th century. Thus, this is a table
setting used before the Counter-Reformation, in a troubled and disturbed period of
the community.
The majority of the dishes bear the usual pattern in use at that period.17 However,
there are many customised items; the acronyms sp and sm occur mainly on individual
bowls, a few jugs and on large bowls, probably used as communal dishes (Fig. 3.1-2).
These letters appear on both monochrome and decorated (such as the ‘graffite rinasci-
mentali’ type) containers, and it may be assumed that they did not comprise a whole
table setting. On the contrary, this customisation could have characterised a few ex-
emplars of larger meal tableware.
The coats of arms of important aristocratic groups of the district are well attested
on tableware from San Paolo (Fig. 3.3). However, this kind of decoration was so pop-
ular throughout the city that it was probably perceived only as a decorative pattern
without any specific reference. Nevertheless, it is worth noting that a few dishes dis-
play a detailed and unusual heraldic pattern. In our opinion, these are specific coats
of arms or elements similar to merchants’ marks, which suggest connections with
228

particular families, perhaps minor nobility from Modena or the surrounding region.
Even after consulting a major heraldic source, it has not been possible to identify any
specific coats of arms.18 Official heraldry flourished in the 15th century, but also its
popular manifestation. New and unofficial coats of arms, often not obeying tradi-
tional heraldic rules, were regularly designed by artists for minor nobility or upstart
families.19 These unofficial arms were often not included in traditional registers, and
only compiled in the Early Modern Age.20 Unfortunately, the Libro d’Oro of Modena,
the list of local coats of arms, was destroyed during the Napoleonic period.21
Moreover, the small number of Maiolica bowls could be interpreted as another
clue for the presence of ‘exceptional’ containers, being very different in technology
and circulation from the main part of the table setting. Maiolica bowls decorated with
the symbol of St. Bernard, a devotional decoration, are very exceptional objects (Fig.
3.6). Therefore, it is possible that these items were the private possessions of individual
nuns. Generally, personal objects within the cloister were part of the monastic dowry
given by mothers or other relatives to the young sisters on entering the nunnery. When
a girl entered the cloister, she metaphorically became a bride of the Lord, and so the
family gave her a dowry, very similar to the secular one prepared on the occasion of
real marriages, but significantly less expensive. Monastic dowries were composed of
money and everyday objects for life within the cloister. – Dowries are well document-
ed in the 15th century, and even if documents did usually not list low-value objects
such as pottery, they seem to include some familial or customised furniture.22
Among the pottery assemblage, there are also other exceptional elements. First-
ly, some highly and finely decorated large plates have been recovered. Their features
suggest a double function: they could be used to serve food communally, but they are
above all decorative objects, perhaps displayed in the refectory or in single cells (Fig.
3.3-4). Since all of them present coats of arms or customized decoration, they are so
unusual as to be recognisable they suggest personal rather than community property.
Secondly, two bowls were really unexpected in a monastic context: they are the so-
called ‘impagliate’, which were traditionally used to serve the first meals to women
who had just given birth (Fig. 3.5). Only two very small fragments of these items were
found, but they are clearly recognisable from the characteristic shape of the upper
rim. The acquisition of impagliate was extremely ritualised: they were exchanged as
gifts between female members of different families, and preserved and displayed in
the house for a very long time.23 They were clearly connected with secular customs, as
nuns were excluded from motherhood by virtue of their sacred status.
Other pottery items connected with secular customs were large, customised and
highly decorated plates used as betrothal gifts between members of the Italian aristoc-
racy. Their exchange was part of the complex nuptial ritual, and decorations often cel-
229

ebrated love, devotion, beauty or showed the coats of arms of the bride and groom.24
In San Paolo, we do not have any clear evidence of this practice, and many decorations
seem to be quite standardised representations of virtues and allegories. However, the
whole pottery assemblage suggests a strong connection with secular table settings.
Moreover, some elements are connected with the paradigm of femininity.
As we mentioned above, part of the table setting probably came from the nunnery
of Santa Maria della Misericordia, where scandals and bad reputation troubled the
community during the 1580s. It should be remembered that rumours of concubinage
and slack attention to devotional duties were widespread throughout the city, and
were reported in official depositions. Even tales about nuns or abbess giving birth
in the sacristy were reported in official papers. Distinguishing falsehoods from real
events is difficult.25 In particular, sexual transgressions have always been a real gender
stigma, and this was true for women in general but especially for nuns, for whom
chastity was one of the basic requirements of their sacred status. We can assume that
the community had adopted a very secular way of life, which is clearly reflected in the
tableware and personal property, in many cases characterised by a secular vocabulary.
To summarize, in the 15th century, tableware in San Paolo was a powerful sym-
bol of identity; it marked social, economic and familial differences among the nuns
which were displayed during one of the most important occasions of communal life:
the meal. Moreover, we cannot ignore the fact that many of these objects performed a
role in celebrating memory. They are reminders of the families of the nuns, but maybe
they became a form of commemoration of a single member of the community, as they
were preserved and used by all the other sisters. Several examples of restoration and
repair of large platters are clearly clues to their importance and their prolonged use.
Furthermore, it is necessary to consider the meaning of ‘personal property’ within a
community. It does not necessary mean that the use of these items was reserved to
an individual. The purchase, and perhaps the early period of use, could be connected
to a single dowry or a family group. However, over the course of time, exclusive use,
assuming that it was so, could have been substituted by a collective utilisation where
the memory was more important than the ownership. c.m.
t h e 16t h ce n t u ry:
n e w con ta i n e r s for n e w n e e ds
The second pottery assemblage is dated to the late 16th century. It is clear that the new
table settings were deeply influenced by the fashion of the period with the decoration
being simpler and the iconographic repertoire poorer. However, on analysing the con-
text, there are significant differences from the previous century.
230

In fact, the proportion of customised items had dramatically decreased: the letters
sp were found only on three monochrome dishes, and the letter F, probably the abbre-
viation of firmeria – infirmary – occurs on only four containers of the ‘graffita post-ri-
nascimentale’ type. Individual commissions are even rarer, despite the significantly
larger number of ‘homemade’ personalisations (account customisations).26 Moreover,
large decorative plates have not been found. Most of the tableware is undifferentiated,
being composed of painted slip and glazed ware, sgraffito, and glazed ware; it is almost
impossible to find differences in quality and decoration, as large stocks were purchased
for all the community. On the contrary, Maiolica dishes represent a relatively small,
but rather heterogeneous, assemblage (42 individual bowls or plates, all different in
typologies and decoration, and representing a very small proportion of the whole mo-
nastic table setting: see Fig. 4). As a well-known tradition of studies assumes,27 these
objects could be interpreted as personal property and part of dowries. In fact, despite
the absence of customisation, the variety of types could imply purchasing a variety
of designs.
The disappearance of customised objects, both individual and collective, occurs
in a very particular period. The community was living in canonical areas and, as the
chronology suggests and the upcoming restoration of the monastic building confirms,
Counter-Reformation rules were immediately applied. The Council of Trent elaborat-
ed on a radical transformation of all aspects of religious devotion in Catholic coun-
tries. Certainly, monastic habits were the target of great attention.28 In particular,
the discipline of nunneries became extremely strict and this was severely applied. The
major collation of norms dedicated to religious women was written in 1577 by Saint
Charles Borromeo, bishop of Milan (Instructionum fabricae et suppellectilis ecclesias-
ticae). Initially, the text was prepared for the Milan diocese, but quickly spread to all
the regions of the Counter-Reformation. It was a detailed regulation of all aspects
of material culture within the female cloisters: buildings, everyday objects and de-
votional items were minutely prescribed. Although dishes and pots were not directly
mentioned, three principles were constantly reiterated: closure, undifferentiated iden-
tity of individuals and distance from laity. Thus, in San Paolo, table settings seem to
reflect these principles accurately: a large amount of undifferentiated table settings
and scarce, but not customised, personal items.
Objects with distinctive features are exceptional; in addition to the few Maiolica
items, we can mention two very peculiar bowls with obscene decorations (Fig. 4.11
and Fig. 4.12). These obscene bowls were part of nuns’ private property, since one of
them was scratched underneath with the P of S. Paolo (see below). There is no need
to explain why this decoration was not suitable for the communal meals of a female
religious community. In a female cloister, it was a serious transgression, since they
231

explicitly represent genitals. Female chastity was strongly reaffirmed by Tridentine

norms; indeed it prevented any contact between nuns and other people, even eye con-
tact, and in general the sphere of intimacy in its larger meaning was avoided.29 Erotic
decorations on tableware are known in Renaissance pottery. Indeed, the better stud-
ied examples are generally on luxury products, probably made on demand for specific
occasions. For instance, many could be related to betrothal ceremonies, celebrating
the joys of love,30 pharmaceutical containers31 or related to courtly society games, as
contemporary written records suggest.32
The topic of these two bowls under discusssion here is basically different; noble or
cultured references, such as mythological or moral allusions, are apparently absent.
On the contrary, the images appear to suggest a satirical and even mocking mean-
ing. Furthermore, the artistic quality of the drawings is no more refined or creatively
organised than other generic decorations on everyday objects. At the present state of
studies, any attempt to analyse contexts in which similar objects were common or
more recurrent has been unfruitful.
The archaeological excavation under discussion here yielded a smal number of finds
with incentious or even obscene decorations: a Maiolica bowl from the Saint Clair
nunnery of Finale Emilia,33 one unfinished fragment from the nunnery of Santa Cris-
tina della Fondazza (Bologna), one bevi se puoi jug from a field survey near Castel Bo-
lognese (Ravenna).34 The prevalence of female cloisters is probably due to the attention
traditionally reserved in Italy for these rich archaeological contexts. In general, we can
assume that obscene decorations on communal productions were very rare (or poorly
published?) and, certainly, pottery was not the main vehicle of diffusion of licentious
topics and pornography.35
We can attempt to define the specific nature of this transgression only by analysing
the composition of the drawing. The layout is identical to that represented on many
ordinary dishes used in monasteries and in secular contexts. Indeed, in the centre of
the bowl is a main subject surrounded by a crown of flames, which is usually associated
with religious representations such as the symbol of St. Bernard (ihs) or with the acro-
nym of San Paolo in the 15th century bowls. Moreover, the layout of one bowl suggests
a coat of arms; it represents crossed elements surmounted by secondary decorations – a
sort of ‘crown’. A satirical intent seems quite clear. It could evoke a general or specific
heraldic sign, the acronym of St. Maria (sm), frequent in the tableware of the previous
century, or even the ubiquitous Papal coat of arms of St. Peter. The affinity with more
common layouts could suggest a satirical, political or even blasphemous and mocking
meaning. The transgression implied in these bowls seems to present more a satirical
and polemic attitude than an actual sexual transgression. c.m.
232

scr atch m a r k s on 16t h- ce n t u ry pot t e ry
In spite of the shortage of objects made on demand or customised, nearly 40% of the
items present a ‘home-made’ personalisation. Indeed, many tableware containers were
characterised by scratched marks, clearly made by users; these were letters, names or
symbols roughly scratched, usually on the base, and on the external surface or the han-
dles of the cooking pots. They are designed with varying skill, different instruments
and different levels of literacy (Fig. 5). For instance, many letters are reversed, and
upper and lower cases even occur in the same word.
This practice is largely found in Italian post-Tridentine nunneries, and is usually
associated with dowry customs showing a strong inclination to mark the personal
property of undifferentiated items36. However, the nunnery of San Paolo represents
an extraordinary opportunity to go deeper into the topic; the two large assemblages,
used by a single community in two different but significant periods of its history, are
available and catalogued in detail. It is clear that in this religious institution, scratched
marks suddenly and extensively appear on post-Tridentine pottery. In the 15th centu-
ry context, this kind of mark is almost non-existent, and simpler (just crosses). They
could be considered accidental episodes, and no specific or organised practice can be
detected. On the other hand, in the following century, scratched marks occur on sev-
eral containers, are different in design and occur on various types of objects. Signs can
be divided into five main groups.
Three of them are single letters: P, probably for ‘Saint Paul’, R, perhaps for refettorio
(refectory), and F, possibly firmeria (infirmary). These hypothetical groups seem to oc-
cur in other contemporary nunneries. For example, in Sant’Antonio in Polesine (Ferr-
ara), scratched marks with F, R, and T, shaped as a Tau, the symbol of Saint Anthony,
occur37. Furthermore, the letter F occurs on a small number of containers of different
shapes and functions (a few individual containers, jugs, a basin, small glazed cooking
pots, etc.), as if they comprised a small unique setting, suitable for a very small group
of users or a single individual, such as people hospitalised in the infirmary. In addition,
the letters P and R were found on two complementary groups of items; the first one
basically consisting of food containers and, the second, exclusively jugs.
Analysing the habits beyond this evidence is not easy. It is probable that it concerns
the rooms in the cloister and the time when tableware was used, rather than the indi-
vidual ownership or groups of people within the community. The choice was probably
made when they were stored, because marks were scratched on the bases of containers,
and were distinguishable when they were not in use. Moreover, the letters P and R
are significantly frequent on two particular types of pottery: the large majority on
monochrome brown slip glazed ware and on exemplars of ‘graffita post-rinascimen-
233

tale’ decorated with the St. Bernard symbol (ihs), often painted in blue. In San Paolo,
nearly all the containers with the St. Bernard symbol are painted blue, and nearly all
are scratched on the base. Moreover, brown monochrome slip glazed ware represents
nearly 30% of all tableware, and almost three-quarters are scratched with the letter P.
Interpreting further, we can assume that large settings with similar characteristics,
or the largest part of them, once they were used within the nunnery, were marked by
the nuns themselves for specific purposes, related to mealtimes and the refectory. In
San Paolo, we have evidence of this kind of selection of materials during use. Where
pottery decorations are present, such as on the items with the St. Bernard symbol,
wide variations are clearly recognisable. Thus, these pieces could have been acquired by
different people (single dowries?), or purchased in the local market from one or more
sellers at one time. It seems improbable that large quantities were produced to order.
Another group of scratched marks could readily be interpreted as initials or com-
plete names of individual nuns. Many objects from another group may, possibly, have
identification marks. However, marks cannot always be clearly deciphered, due to
poor preservation and fragmentation. They fit perfectly with the traditional inter-
pretation of dowry objects or a general custom of customising everyday objects. Iden-
tity marks occur in a wide range of tableware, on small glazed cooking pots and very
frequently on large basins, perhaps used for personal hygiene rather than food. This
context suggests a further observation concerning this practice; these marks probably
do not characterise the property, or the use of an artifact once and for ever. In very few
cases a mark has been erased and replaced by a new one.
To summarise, we can assume that scratched marks probably reveal a serious need
to distinguish cooking containers and tableware for very different uses. In this specific
context of the post-Tridentine nunnery of San Paolo, it could not be confined only to
personal property or individual use, although this attitude is also recognisable. On
the contrary, it involved the individual as well the community. Most marks seem to
be related to the general organisation of the community during mealtimes. In the late
16th century, nuns needed to distinguish their pottery, and different settings were
probably devoted to different occasions and rooms. In other words, different settings
were appropriate for different occasions. In San Paolo, but not in all the contemporary
nunneries,38 this framework coincides with an almost total lack of customised pottery.
Moreover, its appearance during the Counter-Reformation is quite clear. c.m.
cook i ng pots
We have seen that the Counter-Reformation had an effect on the table setting and
personal possessions of the nuns. The two assemblages also show large differences be-
234

tween the cooking sets. They are composed of glazed kitchenware, mostly pots and
pans, and coarse ware (pots, domestic covers/lids and small pans). However, the rea-
sons for this diversity seem not to be linked with the identity of the nuns and the influ-
ence of Counter-Reformation, but with the evolution of taste and cuisine of the time.
In the assemblage from the last quarter of the 15th century, cooking ware represents
10.6% of the total amount of pottery, with a high predominance of glazed kitchen
ware (68% of cooking ware Fig. 3.7-10) over coarse ware (Fig. 3.11). Perhaps this is due
to the fact that coarse ware mostly consisted of very wide domestic covers (diameter
60-80 cm) which were used as a formof oven for baking cakes and bread for more peo-
ple, whereas pots were used for boiling or cooking soups and liquid foods. In fact, this
function was mostly carried out in glazed pots with a single handle.
In the second assemblage, cooking ware represents 21.6% of the total amount, a
substantially higher percentage, with an unexpected increase in coarse ware (41% of
cooking ware). Not only very wide domestic covers/lids (diameter 30-90 cm) are pres-
ent, but also a larger variety of smaller objects, which were suitable for cooking small
portions of food and were ideal for different courses. There are pans and saucepans,
perhaps for stewed or sautéed foods, and pots for liquids, such as soup. There are also
baking trays and platters (testi).
The first important characteristic of this later assemblage is the unusual presence
of a large amount of coarse ware. In this region, this kind of pottery seems to have
become rarer in the 15th century than in previous periods. However, it did not com-
pletely disappear, although it seems to be almost absent in 16th century assemblages.39
The 16th-century cooking setting shows a totally different situation; many dishes
still needed to be prepared in this kind of pottery, so coarse ware was not replaced by
metal pans or glazed pottery. Moreover, shapes and the decoration of domestic ovens,
in both assemblages, seem not to have changed much from the 14th century types
found in the region.40 The traces of restoration on the very wide domestic covers/lids
show that this pottery was easily breakable. Perhaps they were not as simple to replace
as tableware, and nuns preferred to repair rather than to replace them, despite their
inexpensive price.41
Regarding the pot dimensions, the most recovered rim diameters in both kitchen
sets are 10 and 14 cm, with a fair amount of pots of 12 cm diameter. However, in the
older assemblage, small pots of diameters less than 10 cm are less common than in
the 16th-century assemblage (9% compared to 17%). It may be assumed that in the
15th century, small pots were used for cooking portions of food for individual con-
sumption, because rules on communal meals were not as strict before the Council
of Trent. This could not be true at the end of the 16th century, when the rules of the
Counter-Reformation forced the nuns to eat together.
235

Therefore, it is most likely that the increased presence of small pots was once again
due to a change in eating habits; for instance, the appearance of new preparations,
such as sauces and compotes to match main dishes, correlating with their appearance
in the cookbooks of the time.42
To sum up, it is clear that cooking pots also reflect changes in the habits in the nun-
nery, and these changes required various shapes and sizes of pots for the preparation of
new foods and dishes. These transformations are to be attributed more to widespread
changes in society in taste and fashion, rather than impositions dictated by the new
rules that governed life in nunneries during the Counter-Reformation. l.s.
conclusion
The analysis of these objects as a medium of messages and instruments of social display
has allowed us to better understand changes within the community of San Paolo at
a very critical period. Initially, the identity of religious women was directly inspired
by secular habits, but later the possibility of self-representation through objects was
significantly reduced, reflecting the loss of freedom.
The eating habits suggested by the study of table settings and cooking pots under-
line deep transformations, even in everyday objects, corresponding to the spread of
Tridentine norms and the vicissitudes of the community. In the 15th century, meals
were the occasion to display and praise both community and individuals; differences
among the members of the community and their families were shown, and the mem-
ory of the nunnery of San Paolo was celebrated.
Differences between individuals and groups within the community are also attest-
ed to in food preparation, as suggested by the number of small cooking pots. Moreo-
ver, everyday objects were very similar to those found in secular settings, and, if their
meaning was different, it was probably due to their interpretation, rather than their
characteristics; for instance, giving a religious meaning to secular decoration, such
as the pierced heart. It is not clearly known how everyday objects in nunneries were
acquired. It is evident, however, that a personalised table setting implies an origin
from a single dowry, but it is worth noting that its use could be, or could become at
one time, collective.
After the Counter-Reformation, table sets became quite uniform. It is possible
that the large variety of Maiolica bowls are a reflection of personal property. However,
there is hardly any explicit examples celebrating the identities of the whole communi-
ty, individuals or families. Scratching one’s name on individual bowls, or possessing
objects with a subversive meaning, were probably strong manifestations of insubordi-
nation against the new rigorous rules. However, more complex phenomena probably
236

occurred in the organisation of the whole community, as is suggested by the need to

distinguish different rooms or occasions for when which pottery was used.
It is also clear that relationships with the world outside the cloister, relatives or
other lay people, were drastically reduced, and, at the same time, social habits and
rites had been rejected. Familial connections between nuns were also prohibited and
substituted with a forced communal life.
This framework could not be applied to all post-Tridentine nunneries, 43 as the
degree of respect for the rules and the internal organisation of various communities
probably differed (for instance, depending on religious order and the role of the nun-
neries within the urban social fabric). It is clear, however, that the opportunity to
compare several communities represents an oppurtunityto verify the existence of one
or more behavioural models, and allows us to understand the factors that influenced
different models.
To conclude, the informative potential of material culture is rich and enables one
to answer several questions about the social dynamics of past communities that can-
not be resolved from traditional sources. Nevertheless, the comparison between dif-
ferent and meaningful contexts is unavoidable for framing individual behaviours in
a historical perspective. Forms, decorations and customisation of items over the ages
should be considered, and complemented, with the comparison between assemblages
from different social groups at specific times. m.l. – c.m. – l.s.
237

not es
1 This study was realized thanks to Silvia 19 Bascapé and Del Piazzo 1983; Ferrari 1989.
Pellegrini (Musei Civici di Modena) 20 Bascapé and Del Piazzo 1983, 91.
and Donato Labate (Soprintendenza 21 Vicini 1928.
Archeologia Emilia-Romagna; now 22 Zarri 2000.
Sopraintendenza Archeologia, Belle Arti 23 Musacchio 1999; L’Estrange 2011.
e Paesaggio). We also thank for their 24 Brundage 1987; Bayer 2008; Krohn 2008;
suggestions, references and ideas, Sauro Ajmar-Wollheim 2010.
Gelichi, Margherita Ferri, Hugo Blake, 25 ASMo, Sopressioni 2426.
Marta Caroscio and Derek Hall. 26 See paragraph ‘Scratch marks on 16th-
2 Leclerq 1975; Zarri 2000. century pottery’ below.
3 Pelner Cosman 1976; Henisch 1978; 27 Gelichi and Librenti 1998; idem 2001.
Montanari 1988; idem 1989; idem 1991. 28 Cubelli 1975; Leclerq 1975; Zarri 2000.
4 Scapoli 1998. 29 Zarri 2000.
5 Nada Patrone 1998, 49; Montanari 2006, 58. 30 Brundage 1987; Mathieu 2003; Bayer 2008;
6 Gelichi 1997. Krohn 2008; Matthews-Grieco 2010.
7 Gelichi and Librenti 1998; idem 2001. 31 Ajmar-Wollheim 2010.
8 Librenti 2006. See paragraph ‘Scratch marks 32 Brantôme, 45-48. We would like to thank
on 16th-century pottery’ below. Audrey Gilles-Chikhaui for the suggestion.
9 Tiraboschi 1794, 194-203; Soli 1974, 63-77; 33 Modena, Gelichi and Librenti 1998, fig. 45,
Cornia 1998, 16-19. 90.
10 ASMo, Sopressioni 2426, 1484. 34 We would like to thank Sauro Gelichi for the
11 ASMo, Sopressioni 2426, 1484, Tiraboschi information.
1794, 202. 35 Guerzoni 2010.
12 Soli 1974, 63-77. 36 Gelichi and Librenti 1998; idem 2001; De
13 See paragraph ‘Archealogical excavations Groote 2005; Librenti 2006; Baldassarri,
and monastic design’ below. Giorgio and Trombetta 2012.
14 See paragraph ‘The 15th-century’ below. 37 Guarnieri 2006.
15 Rimini: Falcioni 1994, 96-97; Argenta 38 See for instance, Guarnieri 2006.
(Ferrara): Guarnieri 1999; Venice: Saccardo, 39 Gelichi and Librenti 1997; idem 1998.
Lazzarini and Canal 1987. 40 Nepoti 2006.
16 See paragraph ‘The stratigraphic sequence’ 41 Faoro 1998, 297-299.
above. 42 Scappi 1570; Bandini 1992.
17 E.g., Nepoti 1991; idem 1992. 43 Baldassarri, Giorgio and Trombetta 2012;
18 We would like to thank Filippo Fontana for Giorgio and Clemente 2016.
suggestions and help.
238

bi bl iogr a ph y
Ajmar-Wollheim, M. 2010, ‘The Spirit is ready, but the flesh is tired’: Erotic objects
and marriage in Early Modern Italy, in: S.F. Matthews-Grieco (ed.), Erotic Cul-
tures of Renaissence Italy, Farham, 141-169.
Baldassarri, M., M. Giorgio and I. Trombetta 2012. Vita di comunità ed identità so-
ciale: il vasellame degli scavi di San Matteo in Pisa dal monastero benedettino al
carcere cittadino (xii-xix secolo), in: S. Gelichi (ed.), Atti del ix Congresso Inter-
nazionale sulla Ceramica Medievale nel Mediterraneo, Florence, 503-505.
Bandini, F. (ed.) 1992, Banchetti composizioni di vivande e apparecchio generale di Cris-
toforo da Messisbugo, (ed. orig. 1549, Ferrara), Vicenza.
Bayer, A. (ed.) 2008. Art and Love in Renaissence Italy, New York.
Brantôme, Vie des dames galantes, in: L. Lalanne (ed.), Oeuvres complètes, Paris, Re-
nouard/Loones/Lahure, 1873, 1875, 1876 (1ère éd. 1666).
Bascapé, G.C. and M. Del Piazzo (eds.) 1983. Insegne e simboli. Araldica pubblica e
privata medievale e moderna, Rome.
Brundage, J.A. 1987. Low, Sex and Christian Society in Medieval Europe, Chicago.
Cornia, U. 1998. La vicenda storica, in: G. Martinelli Braglia (ed.), La chiesa di San
Paolo a Modena. Otto secoli di Storia, Modena, 13-45.
Cubelli, F. 1975. v. Clausura, Clausura e legislazione, in: Dizionario degli Istituti di
Perfezione, vol. ii, Rome, 1174-1178.
Groote, K. de 2005. The use of ceramics in Late Medieval and Early Modern monaster-
ies: Data from three sites in East Flanders (Belgium), Medieval Ceramics 29, 31-43.
Falcioni A. 1994. Problemi di nettezza urbana: interventi legislativi in epoca moderna,
in: A. Falcioni (ed.), Rimini e la tutela della città. Legislazione di nettezza urbana
dall’epoca romana al xix secolo, Rimini, 89-126.
Faoro, A. 1998. Primi risultati di una indagine archivistica su ceramica e ceramisti a
Ferrara nel tardo medioevo, Archeologia Medievale 25, 293-306.
Ferrari, V. 1989. L’araldica estense nello sviluppo storico del dominio ferrarese, Ferrara.
Gelichi, S. 1997. Stoviglie da tavola e da cucina: Trasformazioni nei manufatti d’uso
domestico tra Medioevo e Rinascimento in Emilia Romagna, Contributi della Scuo-
la di Specializzazione in Archeologia dell’Università degli Studi di Pisa ii, 153-166.
Gelichi, S. and M. Librenti 1997. Ceramiche postmedievali in Emilia Romagna, Ar-
cheologia Postmedievale 1, 185-228.
Gelichi, S. and M. Librenti (eds.) 1998. Senza immensa dote. Le Clarisse di Finale
Emilia tra archeologia e storia, Florence.
Gelichi, S. and M. Librenti 2001. Ceramiche e conventi in Emilia Romagna in epoca
moderna: un bilancio, in: S. Gelichi (ed), Ceramiche e corredi monacali in epoca
239

moderna, Atti del Convegno di Studi, Finale Emilia, 1 ottobre 1998, Florence (=
Archeologia Post-Medievale 5), 13-38.
Giorgio, M. and G. Clemente 2016. Simboli di proprietà, simboli di riconoscimento:
utilizzo e diffusione dei graffiti post-cottura sulle ceramiche pisane tra Medioevo
ed Età Moderna, in: M. Ferri, C. Moine and L. Sabbionesi (eds.), In & Around.
Ceramiche e comunità, Secondo convegno tematico dell’a iecm3, 17-19 Aprile 2015,
Faenza, Museo Internazionale delle Ceramiche, Florence, 31-40.
Guarnieri, C. (ed.) 1999. Il tardo Medioevo ad Argenta: lo scavo di Via Vinarola-Aleotti,
Florence.
Guarnieri, C. (ed.) 2006. S. Antonio in Polesine. Archeologia e storia di un monastero
estense, Florence.
Guerzoni, G.A. 2010. The erotic fantasies of a model clerk: Amateur pornography at
the beginning of the Cinquecento, in: S.F. Matthews-Grieco (ed.), Erotic Cultures
of Renaissance Italy, Farham, 61-88.
Henisch, B.A. 1978. Fast and Feast. Food in Medieval Society, London.
Instructionum fabricae et suppellectilis ecclesiasticae, libri 2, Caroli Borromei, ed. by
M. Marinelli, City of Vatican, 2000.
Krohn, D. 2008. Rites of passage. Art objects to celebrate betrothal, marriage and
the family, in: A. Bayer (ed.), Art and Love in Renaissance Italy, New York, 60-67.
Leclercq, J. 1975. v. Clausura, Clausura in Oriente e Occidente, in: Dizionario degli
Istituti di Perfezione, ii, Rome, 1166-1174.
Leclerq, J. 1976. v. Femminile, monachesimo, in Dizionario degli Istituti di Perfezione,
ii, Rome, 1166-1174.
L’Estrange, E. 2011. ‘Deschi da Parto’ and topsy-turvy gender relations in fifteenth-
Century Italian households, in E. L’Estrange and A. More (eds.), Representing
Medieval Genders and Sexualities in Europe. Construction, Transformation and
Subversion, 600-1530, Farnham, 127-144.
Librenti, M. 2006. Le sigle sui materiali ceramici di S. Antonio in Polesine, in: C.
Guarnieri (ed.), S. Antonio in Polesine. Archeologia e storia di un monastero estense,
Firenze, 235-241.
Mathieu, P. (ed.) 2003. Sex Pots. Eroticism in Ceramics, London.
Matthews-Grieco, S.F. (ed.) 2010. Erotic Cultures of Renaissence Italy, Farham.
Montanari, M. 1988. Alimentazione e cultura nel Medioevo, Bari.
Montanari, M. 1989, Convivio. Storia e cultura dei piaceri della tavola dall’antichità
al Medioevo, Bari.
Montanari, M. 1991. Nuovo convivio. Storia e cultura della tavola nell’età moderna,
Bari.
Monatanari, M. 2006. Il cibo come cultura, Bari.
240

Musacchio, J.M. 1999. The Art and Ritual of Childbirdth in Renaissence Italy, Singa-
pore.
Nepoti, S. 1991. Ceramiche graffite dalla donazione Donini Baer, Comune di Faenza,
Faenza.
Nepoti, S. 1992. Le ceramiche a Ferrara nel Rinascimento: i reperti da Corso della
Giovecca, in: S. Gelichi (ed.), Ferrara prima e dopo il castello. Testimonianze arche-
ologiche per la storia della città, Ferrara, pp. 289-365.
Nada Patrone, A.M. 1998. A mensa con i monaci, in: V. Scapoli (ed.), L’alimentazione
nei monasteri medioevali. Conversazioni medioevali 1, Ferrara, 13-57.
Nepoti, S. 2006. Le ceramiche, in: C. Guarnieri (ed.), S. Antonio in Polesine. Archeo-
logia e storia di un monastero estense, Florence, 91-113.
Pelner Cosman, M. 1976. Faboulous Feast. Medieval Cookery and Ceremony, New
York.
Saccardo, F., L. Lazzarini and E. Canal 1987. Ritrovamenti di ceramica tardo-medie-
vale alla Scuola Vecchia della Misericordia, Venezia, Archeologia Veneta 10, 185-220.
Scapoli, V. (ed.) 1998. L’alimentazione nei monasteri medioevali. Conversazioni me-
dioevali 1, Ferrara.
Scappi, B. 1570, Opera. Dell’arte del cucinare, Ripr. facs. dell’ed del 1570, Sala Bolognese
1981.
Soli, G. 1974. Chiese di Modena, vol. iii, Modena.
Tiraboschi, G. 1794. Memorie storiche modenesi col codice diplomatico illustrato con
note, iii, Modena.
Vicini, E.P. 1928. Il libro d’oro della comunità di Modena, Rivista Araldica, July 1928,
3-22.
Zarri, G. 2000. Recinti: Donne, clausura e matrimonio nella prima età moderna, San
Giovanni in Persiceto (Bologna).
241

fig. 1 – The nunnery of San Paolo in Modena: 1. Location of the site. 2. Late 12th-century: the par-
ish church of San Paolo and two wooden structures built against the city walls, one of them clearly
an artisan’s workshop. 3. Late 15th-century: the temporary location of the nuns. 5. Late 15th – early
16th-century: the nunnery of San Paolo (M. Librenti, C. Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
242

fig. 2 – Pottery from San Paolo in Modena: the late 15th-century assemblage (M. Librenti, C. Moine,
L. Sabbionesi).
fig. 4 – Pottery from San Paolo in Modena: the second half of 16th-century assemblage; note the
large amounts of ‘graffita post-rinascimentale’ and ‘monochrome slip and glazed ware’ (M. Librenti,
C. Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
243

fig. 6 – Scratched marks on 16th-century pottery from San Paolo in Modena (M. Librenti, C. Moine,
L. Sabbionesi).
244

* * *
Global dining with Erasmus:

The Early Modern European dining table
Alexandra van Dongen
*
Viatores sumus in hoc mundo, non habitatores
Travelers we are in this world, not inhabitants
desiderius erasmus, 15341
t h e di n i ng room, a globa l cosmos
There is a world to be discovered in the Early Modern European dining room. The use
of specific types of tableware, their designs, materials, instrumental functionalities
and table manners, reveal a rich diversity of intercultural influences, a phenomenon
that was not new at the beginning of the 16th century. Let’s walk into an imaginary
early 16th-century dining room and set the table, using artefacts that will tell this
fascinating history.
The Rotterdam humanist Desiderius Erasmus (Rotterdam 1466 – Basel 1536) is
very helpful in our research, as he wrote a very popular instructional treatise for young
boys attending Latin schools, including a chapter on table manners: De civilitate mo-
rum puerilium libellus (On Civility of Behaviour in Boys), which was first published
in Basel in 1530.2 The book tapped into a remarkable development; learning good ta-
ble manners ceased to be the sole preserve of the traditional Late Medieval elite and
became part of a humanist and civil development. Erasmus stressed that the rules of
etiquette were not just intended for noble boys, but should be an essential element of
the upbringing of all children.3 When Erasmus wrote De civilitate, he had lived and
worked in various cities in Europe, where he must have enjoyed a variety of meals at a
wide variety of dinner tables laid in diverse ways, undoubtedly all with a mixture of
local and imported tableware.
For our 16th-century table setting, I shall focus on the fourth chapter of Erasmus’
treatise, entitled De conviviis (On Meals). His written table instructions, combined
with 16th-century domestic artefacts and archaeological finds from excavations in
245
FHG

numerous European cities, and the often realistically depicted domestic utensils in
contemporary European and Dutch paintings, drawings and engravings will consti-
tute our interdisciplinary sources.4
di n i ng ta bl e
In the 16th century, the dining table (Latin: mensa) was often still, as it had been in
the Middle Ages, a contraption of wooden trestles on which a separate wooden table
top, or board, would be placed. From the 15th century onwards, there were also flap
tables and drop leaf tables. The solid dining table with fixed legs and top, sometimes
with elements that slid out like the one drawn by the German artist Albrecht Dürer
(Nürnberg 1471-1528) in 1520-1521 in his sketchbook made during his trip through
the Netherlands, came into fashion during the Renaissance (Fig. 1). Let’s use Dürer’s
dining table to set our table.
ta bl eclot h, na pk i ns, or i e n ta l c a r pet
A table cloth (Latin: mappa) was known in the 16th century as an ammelaken in the
Low Countries. The dining table was covered with a linen table cloth and dressed
with linen napkins. The Schweizerisches Landesmuseum in Zurich, Switzerland,
owns an unusual linen table cloth, dated 1527, which is decorated with the coat of
arms of the Hauser family (Fig. 2).5 The table cloth is decorated with an elaborate, em-
broidered design representing a table setting, in the form of table ware: a large serving
dish, trenchers, sauce bowls, dinner knives, glass wine beakers, a two-pronged serving
fork, foodstuffs like bread, biscuits, ham and carrots, flowers and fruits, like muscatel
pears, grapes, walnuts, cherries, bread and apples. Meanwhile, birds are picking up the
crumbs after the represented meal, where all the dinner guests appear to have just left
the table.
To keep the table cloth clean, Erasmus advises: ‘Do not throw bones or similar
leftovers under the table to litter the floor, or toss them on to the table cloth, or replace
them in the serving dish, but put them at the side of your plate or in the dish which
some people provide as a receptacle for leftovers.’6
On some occasions, for the purpose of setting lavish high tables, richly patterned
oriental carpets were spread over the wooden table with a long ‘stripe’ on top lying
down the middle; this was usually a white linen strip, folded sheet or table scarf, upon
which breads and foods were set.7 This idea, to put an oriental carpet on a dining table,
was most likely based on the use of placing oriental carpets on altar tables in Christian
churches, since their introduction into Europe by migrants and through trade.8
246

va n d ong e n – g l ob a l di n i ng w i t h e r a sm us
ta bl ewa r e
The embroidered table setting depicted on the linen table cloth, shows a large central
food-serving dish filled with fruits and a carrot. In the 16th century, a diverse variety
of food-serving dishes were available, to present food on a communally placed plate
on the table. Before a cooked dish was served on the table, it was kept hot on a chafing
dish with glowing coals, close to the dining table.
A food-serving dish (Latin: patina or disco) was usually made of pewter, earthen-
ware or the more luxurious ceramic type of dish made of European Maiolica. Some-
times a cover was placed over the dish to keep the food hot. On the table, a steaming
dish could be placed on a circular metal dish holder on three legs, described in Eras-
mus’ Dutch edition from 1546 as a schotelrinck or tafelrinc, to prevent the hot dish
from scorching the table cloth.9
In the Netherlands, some rare examples of non-European food-serving dishes have
been found. In the northern Dutch city of Enkhuizen, for instance, on a terrain called
De Baan, a fragment of a large Turkish serving dish made of Iznik fritware was exca-
vated in 2004 (Fig. 3). Probably by indirect trade, the dish had reached this harbour
city in the northern part of the country.10 We can only guess for what kind of food
this Iznik dish was used. Could it perhaps have been a pasteyen? This was a quite pop-
ular richly spiced meat pie, based on a recipe published in the oldest printed cookery
book from the Netherlands, Een notabel boecxken van cokeryen, Brussel; published by
Thomas Vander Noot around 1514 (recipe no. 94):11
Om goede pasteyen te maken –

Neemt bloeme ende maeckt daeraf deech ende doet daerinne eyeren ofte smout [vet], om-
dat het brood [de korst] van den pasteien cort [bros] sijn soude. Ende neempt dat vleesch
dat ghi daerin hebben wilt ende cappet wel cleyne, na ghelegentheit dat [overeenkom-
stig] het vleesch es. Oft neempt hoenderen oft capuynen oft rintstonghen [rundertongen]
of ander wiltbraet ende dat legt al gheheel in de pasteyen. Ende men pleechtse te larderen
[doorsteken] met groffelsnaghelen [kruidnagel = clove] die wilt, ende die sommighe die
sniden daer speck inne. Ende dat cruyt [specerijen] hiertoe es: ghimbere [gember], greyne
[kardemom] ende caneele [kaneel], teghadere gheminghelt. Dyt cruyt [specerijmeng-
sel] moet ghemynghelt sijn metten vleesche, als tvleesch wel cleine ghecapt es. Dan worpt
ment in die pasteyen tegader ende neemt luttel wijns die wilt. Ende men legter oock inne
merchbeenderen [mergpijpen], omdat sy vet zijn souden. Aldus setse in den hoven [oven]
ende laetse backen. Dan es si volmaect.
The English translation reads:
247

To make good pies –

Take flour and make dough from it and put therein eggs or fat in order that the crust
of the pie will be short. And take the meat that you want to have in there and cut it
small as the meat allows. Or take hens or capons or beef tongue or other game and
lay that whole in the pie and one must stick them with cloves if one wishes and some
cut bacon into it. And the spices for this are ginger, grains of paradise and cinnamon
mixed together. These spices must be mixed with the meat when the meat is cut up
small. Then one throws it into the pie together and takes a little wine if one wishes and
one also lays therein marrow bones because they should be fat. Set it thus in the oven
and let it bake. Then it is complete.
On a 16th-century portrait of the Dutch family of Pierre de Moucheron (1508-1567),

a merchant in Middelburg and Antwerp, we can see a richly laid table with plates and
dishes filled with a pie, bread, olives, fruit and cooked birds (Fig. 4).
The exotic spices, mentioned in Van der Noot’s meat pie recipe, are groffelsnaghel-
en (‘kruidnagel’) which is clove, originating from the Moluccas, ghimbere (‘gember’),
meaning ginger, greyne (‘kardemom’), cardamom, and caneele (‘kaneel’) which is cin-
namon, originating from Ceylon. Cloves were already known for thousands of years
in China and modern-day Indonesia, and the Romans were the first to introduce the
clove to Europe. During the Middle Ages, the use of clove was limited and very costly.
In 1480, an image of cloves, together with cinnamon and nutmeg (Fig. 5), is depicted
in the Book of Tides by Philips van Kleef (1456-1528). In 1529, clove was only traded in
Lisbon and Antwerp.12
Exotic ceramic dishes, such as the Iznik example, as well as southern or northern
European examples of colourful Maiolica, can also be found in use as serving dishes.
This is evident in a painting from 1525, by Lucas van Cranach the Elder, depicting a
friend of Erasmus, the Archbishop of Mainz: Albrecht von Brandenburg as Saint Jer-
onymus in his study (Fig. 6).
k n i v es & for k s
Diners used, in the 16th century, a table knife or dinner knife (Latin: cultello) with
a sharp, pointed, wrought-iron blade. Erasmus describes the placing of the knife on
the table: ‘The cup and small eating knife, duly cleaned, should be on the right-hand
side of the plate, the bread on the right.’13 According to Erasmus, it was proper to use a
small knife to peal boiled eggs or pick up meat from the serving-dish: ‘It is ridiculous
to pick an eggshell clean with finger-nails or thumb; to do so by inserting one’s tongue
is even more ridiculous; the polite way is to use a small knife. To gnaw bones is for a
248

dog; good manners require them to be picked with a small knife.’14 Erasmus recom-
mended using a knife to eat bread; ‘Grasping the bread in the palm of the hand and
breaking it with the fingertips is an affected practice which should be left to certain
courtiers. You should cut it properly with your knife, not tearing off the crust or cut-
ting it away from both sides as this smacks of affectation.’15
In the early 16th century, small table forks had two or three prongs and were used
as a serving instrument to transfer food, sweetmeats and other delicacies, from a dish
to the trencher (Fig. 7). Serving forks had been in use in Europe since the Roman
times. The introduction to Europe of the Byzantine custom of eating with a fork,
which originated from the Middle East, is the stuff of legend. The Greek princess,
Teodora Anna Dukaina, who married Domenico Selvo the Doge of Venice in 1075,
caused a scandal in Venice by eating with a small golden fork. But her practice, which
was considered sinfully over refined, was adopted later on throughout Italy, including
by the pope. On a quite beautiful Maiolica istoriato plate, painted by Francesco Xanto
Avelli (ca. 1487 - ca. 1542), an Italian two-pronged dining fork can be seen on the din-
ing table (Fig. 8).
It was not until the 17th century that the eating fork came into fashion in
north-western Europe. Erasmus must have come across such eating forks on the tables
of the rich during his travels through Europe. There is no mention in De civilitate of
the fork as an implement for eating. The fork (Latin: furcina) referred to in his text was
used as a serving fork: ‘You should take what you want with a knife or fork.’16
In 1533, Erasmus received a gift from the Polish abbot Erasmus Ciolek of the Cister-
cian monastery of Claratumba, near Krakow. The abbot had visited Erasmus in Frei-
burg in 1532. The following year, he sent his host a token of his gratitude in the form
of a leather cutlery case containing a silver-gilt knife and fork, which (alas without its
contents) survived and is in the collection of the Historisches Museum in Basel. A
letter of thanks, which Erasmus wrote in 1526 to the Polish nobleman, Krzysztof Szy-
dlowiecki, who had given him the gift, reveals his Erasmian humility, accepting the
gift with gratitude but he cannot resist saying that ‘something made of clay or wood’
would have been more suitable for him.17
w i n e gl a ss
Erasmus wrote about the consumption of drinks during a meal the following remarks:
‘To begin a meal with drinking is the hallmark of a drunkard who drinks not from
need but from habit. Such a practice is not only morally degrading but also injurious to
bodily health. […] Chew your food before you drink and do not raise the cup to your
lips without first wiping them with a napkin or cloth, especially if someone offers you
249

his cup or when drinking from the common cup. It is discourteous to look askance at
others while you are drinking, just as it is impolite to turn your neck round like a stork
lest a drop remain at the bottom of the cup. You should courteously acknowledge some-
one toasting you with his cup, and touching your own cup with your lips, sip a little
and pretend to drink: this will satisfy a polite man simply playing the buffoon. When
someone boorishly presses you to drink, promise to reply when you have grown up.’18
As far as drinking vessels are concerned, in his Latin text, Erasmus only used the
word poculum (beaker), an object that was available in a range of different materials.
There were different types of plain, as well as elaborate, drinking vessels available in
Erasmus’ days; these were made from different materials as is evident from both ar-
chaeological finds and from contemporary depictions of drinking vessels in paintings
and engravings.
Glassware for the table, of the types depicted on the Swiss table cloth (Fig. 2) and
in various other visual sources of the same period, were produced in glassworks in
Germany, southern Netherlands, northern France and Venice.19 The origins of the
technique of using enamel, gilding and inscriptions to decorate glassware was also
transferred to Venice, coming up from the Islamic regions, in Syria and Egypt, since
the 13th century.20
Even before that time, enamelled and gilded glass beakers found their way to the
Netherlands. For example, a Medieval glass beaker, dating from 1175-1250 and made
in Syria, was excavated by archaeologists in the city of Maastricht, near the remains
of the Wittevrouwenklooster, a 13th-century cloister. It probably found its way there
via trade or as a pilgrim’s souvenir during the time of the Crusades. The Syrian beaker
is identified as being from the Syrian Raqqa-group. It carries an inscription in Arab
lettering, ‘al-shiah’, and is decorated with images of eagles and medallions.21
In Erasmus’s days, drinking vessels used at the table often bore admonitory inscrip-
tions advising moderation in drink, such as ‘drinct bi maten het sal u baten’ (drink in
moderation, it will benefit you). The phenomenon of the motto jug goes back to Greek
and Roman antiquity. In Erasmus’s Godly Feast, one of two Colloquia (1522), mentions
two ‘talking’ beakers referred to in a dialogue between Timothy and Eusebius; ‘Timo-
thy: So far from silent is your house that not only the walls, but the cup too says something.
Eusebius: What does it tell you? Timothy: ‘No one is warmed but by himself ’. Eusebius:
‘The cup speaks in defence of wine, for most people blame the wine when they get a fever
or headache from drinking, though they themselves have invited the trouble by drinking
too much. Sophronius: Mine speaks Greek: “In wine there is truth”.’
Erasmus received numerous valuable wine cups in precious metals from friends
and admirers as tokens of their esteem and affection. In 1519, Erasmus was given a
250

golden wine cup by Cardinal Albrecht of Brandenburg, Archbishop of Mainz. On

the 19th October that year, he wrote him a letter of thanks acknowledging receiving
of the cup. He describes it as a gift worthy of the princely giver, but thinks that he is
an unworthy recipient for an object like this: ‘It suits me better to drink from glass and
earthenware than from gold cups in high relief.’22
ta bl e m a n n e r s
Since time immemorial, the shared meal has been a collective ritual in which codes of
social conduct were established. Down through the centuries, the oral transmission
of table manners gradually became codified in written rules to live by. The earliest
known Dutch text on etiquette is the Boec van Seden, written around 1290, based
on the Latin book on etiquette Facetus (Courteous).23 We must, however, consider
that the development and refining of Medieval, and Early Modern European, table
manners most likely took place in Al-Andalus, Islamic Spain. In Cordóba, an Iraqy
musician and gastronome called Abul-Hasan Alí Ibn Nafí (Baghdad ca. 789 - Cordó-
ba, Spain 857), known as Ziryab, became very influential. He worked at the court
of Cordóba, from 822, with Caliph Abd-Al-Rahman ii (792-852).24 More research is
required to unravel the fascinating Medieval and Early Modern transcultural history
of dining, wining and its extensive material culture. Enjoy your meal!
251

not es
1 Erasmus 1534, 6. book can be found on the website

2 Gaba-van Dongen 2008, 265-75. Kookhistorie by Marleen Willebrands:
3 In 1546, the first Dutch edition of Erasmus’ http://www.kookhistorie.nl/ (date last
De civilitate morum puerilium libellus was checked 01/12/2016).
published by Steven Mierdmans in Antwerp 12 Book of Hours, Philip of Cleves (1456 –
with the title: Goede Manierlijcke seden. 1528), ca. 1480, Royal Library, Brussel, ms.
Hoe de Jonghers gaen, staen, eten, drincken, iv 40. These two pages depict cinnamon,
spreken, swijghen, ter tafelen dienen, ende de nutmeg and asparagus: https://commons.
spijse ontghinnen sullen: met meer schooner wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Getijdenboek_
onderwijsinghen, wt D. Erasmus van Philips_van_Kleef_(1456-528)_heer_van_
Rotterdam en meer ander gheleerder boecken, Ravenstein.jpg (last checked 01/12/2016).
doer Vraghe ende Antwoorden ghestelt. The 13 Sowards 1985, 283 (Collected Works of
only surviving copy is in Ghent University Erasmus 25).
Library (R000821). 14 Sowards 1985, 283-84 (Collected Works of
4 Bartels 1999. For depictions of artefacts in Erasmus 25).
paintings and engravings, check the online 15 Sowards 1985, 281 (Collected Works of
alma research project of the Boijmans Van Erasmus 25).
Beuningen Museum in Rotterdam: http:// 16 Sowards 1985, 282 (Collected Works of
collectie.boijmans.nl/en/research/alma-en Erasmus 25).
5 Embroidered tablecloth depicting a laid 17 Nauert and Dalzell 2003, CWE 12, 359:
table, with the coat of arms of the Hauser Letter to Krzysztof Szydlowiecki, September
family, Switzerland, 1527. Embroidered linen, 9, 1526 (Collected Works of Erasmus 12).
161,5 x 119 cm, inv. AG 2385, Schweizerisches 18 Sowards 1985, 281-82 (Collected Works of
Landesmuseum, Zurich. Erasmus 25).
6 Sowards 1985, 284 (Collected Works of 19 Gaba-van Dongen 2008, 270-71.
Erasmus 25). 20 Baumgartner and Krueger 1988, 120-25.
7 Pelner Cosman 1976, 126. 21 Hulst 1989.
8 Arnold 2014, 98-105. 22 Bietenholz and Mynors 1987, 109-10
9 Ibidem note 1. (Collected Works of Erasmus 7).
10 Schrickx and Duijn 2012. 23 Elias 1978.
11 A complete transcription of this cookery 24 Lévi-Provençal 1950.
252

bi bl iogr a ph y
Arnold, L. 2014. The carpet index: Rethinking the oriental carpet in Early Renais-
sance paintings, The Silk Road 12, 98-105.
Bartels, M. (ed.) 1999. Steden in scherven: vondsten uit beerputten in Deventer, Dor-
drecht, Nijmegen en Tiel (1250-1900), Zwolle.
Baumgartner, E. and I. Krueger 1988, Phönix aus Sand und Asche. Glas des Mit-
telalters, exhibition catalogue Rheinisches Landesmuseum Bonn and Historisches
Museum Basel, Munich.
Bietenholz, P.G. and R.A.B. Mynors (eds.) 1987. Collected Works of Erasmus 7, The
Correspondence of Erasmus: Letters 993 to 1121 (1519-1520), Toronto. http://www.
utppublishing.com/The-Correspondence-of-Erasmus-Letters-993-to-1121-1519-
1520-Volume-7.html (date last checked 01/12/2016).
Elias, N. 1978. The Civilizing Process, Vol. 1: The History of Manners, New York [= Über
den Prozeß den Zivilisation, Berlin, 1939].
Erasmus, D. 1534. De praeparatione ad mortem, Accedvnt aliquot epistolae serijs de re-
bus, in quibus item nihil est no[n] nouum ac recens, Paris.
Erasmus, D. 1546. De civilitate morum puerilium libellus, in first Dutch edition: Goede
Manierlijcke seden. Hoe de Jonghers gaen, staen, eten, drincken, spreken, swijghen,
ter tafelen dienen, ende de spijse ontghinnen sullen: met meer schooner onderwijsing-
hen, wt D. Erasmus van Rotterdam en meer ander gheleerder boecken, doer Vraghe
ende Antwoorden ghestelt, Antwerp.
Gaba-van Dongen, A. 2008. Tools of civilization. Erasmus’s views on tableware and
table manners, in: Images of Erasmus (exhibition catalogue, Museum Boijmans
Van Beuningen), Rotterdam, 265-75.
Hulst, R.A. 1994. De theateropgraving in Maastricht (1988-1989), Maastrichtse Op-
gravingsverslagen 1, mov 1, Maastricht, 33-34, fig. 24.
Lévi-Provençal, É. 1950. Histoire de l’Espagne musulmane, Paris & Leiden.
Nauert, C.G. and A. Dalzell (eds.) 2003. Collected Works of Erasmus 12, The Cor-
respondence of Erasmus: Letters 1658-1801 (1526-1527), Toronto. http://www.
utppublishing.com/The-Correspondence-of-Erasmus-Letters-1658-1801-1526-1527-
Volume-12.html (date last checked 01/12/2016).
Pelner Cosman, M. 1976. Fabulous Feasts: Medieval Cookery and Ceremony, New
York.
Schrickx, C. and D. Duijn 2012. Handel met sultan en sjah. Archeologische vondsten
van Turks en Perzisch aardewerk uit de Gouden Eeuw in Hoorn en Enkhuizen, Ar-
cheologie in West-Friesland 8, Gemeente Hoorn & Enkhuizen, Hoorn.
Sievernich, G. and H. Budde (eds.) 1989. Europa und der Orient 800-1900, Munich.
253

Sowards, J.K. (ed.) 1985. Collected Works of Erasmus 25, Literary and Educational
Writings, Vol. 3: De conscribendis epistolis / Formula / De civilitate; Vol. 4: De puer-
is instituendis / De recta pronuntiatione, Toronto. http://www.utppublishing.com/
Literary-and-Educational-Writings-3-and-4-Volume-3-De-conscribendis-episto-
lis-Formula-De-civilitate.-Volume-4-De-pueris-instituendis-De-recta-pronuntia-
tione-Volume-25-26.html (date last checked 01/12/2016).
254

fig. 1 – Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528), A dining table and jugs (bronze ewer, stoneware jug with pewter
lid and pewter jug) in the sketchbook of his journey through the Netherlands, 1520-1521. Silverpoint
on tinted paper, 115 x 167 mm. London, British Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, inv.
nr. 1921-7-14-2.
fig. 2 – See page 256.
255

fig. 2 – Embroidered tablecloth (detail) depicting a laid table, with the coat of arms of the Hauser
family, Switzerland, 1527. Embroidered linen, 161,5 x 119 cm, inv. AG 2385, Schweizerisches Landesmu-
seum, Zurich.
256

* * *
Material culture in Early Modern Abruzzo, Italy:

Archival and archaeological sources
Van Verrocchio
i n t roduct ion
Studies on material culture and related social practices have flourished since the 1980s,
not least because of new approaches to written and archaeological sources which focus
both on economic and socio-anthropological aspects.1 For historians, for instance,
the study of post-mortem inventories (and dowries) is now one of the major tools for
understanding, within a long-term perspective, social stratification, domestic life and
the consumption habits of past communities. Another example is the use, by archae-
ologists, of ceramics not just as a dating tool but also as a means to formulate hypoth-
eses about cultural behaviour throughout various centuries, including Early Modern
societies.2
Both sources have, as is acknowledged, great potential but also limitations. The
study of probate inventories helps, for example, to reconstruct the arrangement of ob-
jects in a domestic space, like a snap-shot taken when the house-owner dies. However,
they hardly allow us to grasp their material essence; in other words, these inventories
do not give a precise idea of the physical appearance of objects. Moreover, information
provided by an archaeological excavation allows us, through direct access to the arte-
facts, to reconstruct the inventory of cooking, storage and tableware. This reconstruc-
tion, however, must be supported by other sources (written sources, iconography, etc.)
in order to give a more complete picture.
In recent years, there has been a significant interest in Italy within the study of the
material culture of urban societies of the Modern Age. Many studies, based on the
analysis of post-mortem inventories, have involved large cities such as Rome, Florence,
257
FHG

Venice, Milan etc., often dictated by specific interests, such as those concerning the
study of the genesis and dissemination of collections of works of art.3 At the same
time, with the gradual emergence of Post-Medieval archaeology, the amount of infor-
mation on artefacts and their function, especially ceramics, used in the home between
the 16th and 19th centuries has increased.4
Starting with these considerations, this paper aims at suggesting a multidiscipli-
nary approach to this subject, in an attempt to compare archaeological data with those
from the study of written sources. The research will focus on some coastal towns of
Abruzzo (Central Italy) in the Early Modern period, in combination with the anal-
ysis of a group of post-mortem inventories. This archival data, which is new for the
area and the period in question, will be compared with the finds from archaeological
investigations in the Abruzzo region, in particular some specific parts of this region.
The main objective is to reconstruct in detail the inventory of objects used at home
in the region and the period under study. The knowledge of the entire set of objects
used for cooking, storing and serving food on the table is the first and necessary step
for the reconstruction of domestic practises, especially eating habits, from the urban
societies under investigation.
h istor ic a l backgrou n d
The region under study is the lower Pescara valley, between the major urban centres
of Chieti, Ortona and Penne, and a series of small Medieval towns located along the
middle hill slopes. The period under study is the era of the Spanish Viceroyalty of Na-
ples, from the mid-16th to the end of the 17th centuries, roughly corresponding to the
monarchies of Philip ii of Spain (1554-98) and Philip v (1700-07). In this period, the
Pescara river was the administrative border between the provinces of Abruzzo Citra
and Ultra.
The primary centre of the whole area was Chieti, from which, most of the docu-
ments under study originate (Figs. 1-2). Chieti was a royal city and the capital of Abru-
zzo from 1443, decreed by King Alfonso i the Magnanimous (1396-1458). It was one
of the ten largest cities of the Kingdom of Naples, with a population of about 10,000
inhabitants. Furthermore, it was the seat of important offices and administrative bod-
ies for the central government, including military (Preside), judicial (Giustiziere) and
economic bodies (the provincial treasury) as well as the court of Regia Udienza Pro-
vinciale founded in 1558.5 Of course, there were also local administrative and judicial
government bodies (city parliament and related charges; civil court of first and second
instance) as well as clerical bodies with the presence of the Archbishop, who also held
the title of ‘Count’ of the city.
258

v e r ro cc h io – m at e r i a l c u lt u r e
This social organisation, reconstructed on the basis of Chieti historiography,6 is

similar to, and definitely comparable with, the hierarchy documented in other loca-
tions of Abruzzo,7 in other cities of the Kingdom of Naples8 and, more generally, in
other contemporary Italian cities.9 An important reference source is the Cadastre of
Chieti dating back to 1651.10 According to the Cadastre, only about 5% of the 1,500
householders surveyed in the urban area belonged to the aristocracy,11 while the re-
maining 95% included bourgeois families, those who actively participated in the ad-
ministration of public affairs and families of artisans and workers. According to the
Cadastre, however, of the 184 richest owners, that is, those with a registered income
exceeding 10 ounces, less than 42 belonged to the noble class (22,8%). These included
seven of the richest owners, and individuals who were merchants, tax collectors, phar-
macists, doctors, judges, notaries and doctors of law.
We find the same social organisation in the city of Penne where, according to the
Cadastre of 1600, about 5% of the 1,107 householders surveyed belonged to the noble
class, while at least 20% of them were middle-class families.12
Finally, the social stratification in Chieti can be schematically described as follows:
1) the presence of a patrician class with a few local noble families without remarka-
ble feudal possessions, as found in other areas of Abruzzo; the noble class here consists
mainly of baronial families.
2) the presence of a class mainly consisting of doctors of law and medicine, lawyers,
judges and notaries (bourgeois). This included local and regional families and families
from Spain, Naples or from other provinces of the viceroyalty, fuelled by the presence
of these royal government offices. In this class we can also note the strong presence
of foreign merchants, including overrides of the territories of the Republic of Venice,
fuelled by the cadences of the annual fairs (e.g. the fair of St. Anthony in Chieti),
connected with the presence of a Venetian consulate established in Chieti in 1555 and
a vice-consulate in Pescara.13
3) the presence of a lower class of small traders, manufacturers (textile, tailoring,
tanning etc.) and workers, fuelled by higher international marketing channels.14
a rch i va l data
The archival research has focused on the notary records dating back to the second half
of the 16th century and up to the first years of the 18th century.15 The examination of
such documentation has identified a total of 94 probate inventories of movable and
immovable properties surveyed following the death of the owners (Table 1). These in-
ventories provide a snapshot taken inside the house as catalogues of all moving objects,
in the presence of a notary, a judge and some witnesses. They mainly refer to Chieti,
259

Ortona and Penne and, to a lesser extent, some of the smaller towns of the Pescara
Valley, such as Pianella and Manoppello. (Fig. 2).
In order to assess the prevalence of the objects identified by social class, it was nec-
essary to identify schematic groups of inventories based on the class of the deceased
owner. This phase of the research, which has been the most difficult since it required
cross-comparisons with other written sources, allowed us to clearly identify, for more
than three-quarters of cases, the social class of the family or the profession of the sub-
ject in question.16
Based on these considerations of the available sources, the following picture has
emerged from the sources: just over 25% of the inventories belonged to noble families/
citizens (‘nobles’), 40% to bourgeois families (‘citizens’), 11% to artisans (‘craftsmen’),
while for the remaining 24% the social position remains uncertain (this category will
thus not be included in the next graphs).
Among nobles, there were those who belonged to baronial city families residing in
Chieti, Ortona and Penne.17 Among the citizens we find the members of the bourgeois
class, such as merchants, representatives of the city and the local governments (both
civil and military).18 Lastly, the group of craftsmen includes members of so called ‘ars
mechanica’, such as barbers, bakers, goldsmiths, and generally those who were identi-
fied with the title of ‘masters’ (magister/magistri).19
The objects inventoried were identified on the basis of a functional classification
that included kitchen tools, tableware and household items (lighting, heating etc.). A
second distinction is based, on the other hand, on the type of material used: metals
(silver, tin, pewter, brass, copper, iron, etc.), glasses (crystal or glass), ceramics (Maioli-
ca/tin glazed wares or earthenware), stones (marble, stone) and wood.
1. tableware objects (figs. 3-6) – Among the tableware objects which belonged
to noble families, circa 28% (347) of the total (1220 items) were made of silver, followed
by a large number of other metal objects, especially tin and pewter plates (Fig. 3). There
is also evidence of a substantial number of objects made of glass or crystal (such as
beakers and carafes) (162, 13.2%). There seems to be, however, only a limited presence
of ceramics which can be clearly identified as Maiolica or tin glazed wares (68, 5.5%).
Of all the ceramic items (318), 75% of the total consisted of plates, followed by basins
and jugs.
The data for bourgeois families (‘citizens’) shows the presence of silver and other
metal objects, although to a lesser extent than the noble families (265, 12.5% and 433,
20.5% respectively; see Fig. 3). The most significant difference is the abundant pres-
ence of Maiolica objects, (827, 39.2%) and pottery in general (413, 19.5%). About 80%
of the ceramic objects (1240) in this group again consisted only of plates. However,
260

compared to the noble families a greater functional differentiation was recorded in the
documents, which also mentioned other ceramic objects such as salts, bowls, saucers,
cups, mugs and basins.
With respect to craftsmen families, we can see that the presence of metal objects
is markedly less compared to the noble families (48, 15.9%), and no glass or crystal was
registered. Maiolica had a noteworthy presence in the records (89, 29.5%) but 50.8%
(153) of the objects were classified as generic pottery (‘earthenware’). Plates, in this case,
represented more than 80% of ceramic items, followed by a few other shapes (bowls,
cups, basins and jars).
In particular, we can see, in Fig. 4, how 47% (347) of the metal objects on the no-
bles’ tables consisted mostly of silverware, but this percentage dropped to 38% (265) for
the citizens. In this latter, we may distinguish, on the other hand, a greater presence of
tin objects (292, 41%). The presence of pewter items clearly prevailed among the crafts-
men families (27, 56%) (Fig. 4). Finally, brass and copper, in even smaller quantities,
were mainly present on the tables of noble and bourgeois families.
As for the ceramics that were mentioned in the notary records, it is interesting
to notice that only 21.3% (68) of the items, on the tables of the nobles, was made of
Maiolica, while almost 80% (250, 78.7%) was pottery qualified as ‘creta’, ‘creta rustica’
or ‘preta’, all generic terms for ‘earthenware’ (Fig. 5).20 Maiolica products from the
centre of Castelli (Abruzzo), which have been clearly identified, made up only 6.6%
(21) of the total of ceramics (Fig. 6).21
The bourgeois tables, on the other hand, were dominated by a significant amount
of Maiolica (827, over 2/3, or 66,6%) of which 39% (483) was clearly attributable to the
Castelli production (Figs. 5-6). A greater differentiation in the production centres was
also noticed in this group (Fig. 6). There were ceramics coming from Anversa degli
Abruzzi (large plates and ‘piatti rossi’, red earthenware plates),22 from Assisi (mugs),23
Faenza (bowls, plates, salt and saucers) and Apulia (green flasks).
The tables of the craftsmen showed less variation(Figs. 5-6). Maiolica represented
about 36.7% (89) of the total, and 12% (30) of these Maiolica objects came from Castel-
li. The remaining 63.3% (153) consisted of unidentified pottery or earthenware items,
generally described as ‘creta’, ‘creta rustica’, ‘creta grossa’ or ‘terra’.24
As for Maiolica produced in Castelli, we can highlight the presence of the highest
quality ware covered with a deep cobalt blue tin glaze (the so-called ‘turchina’). Its
production can be dated to the last quarter of the 16th and the beginning of the 17th
century.25 The fact that the quality of these objects was very high is confirmed by their
absence on the craftsmen’s tables and their limited presence on the bourgeois ones;
only 1% (5) compared to the common items (478), although the percentage for the
noble families drops to 6.6% (3).
261

2. kitchen and storage utensils (figs. 7-10) – The differences detected so far
in the supply of table wares, between the three social classes, were less obvious for
kitchen and/or food storage items. In fact, the presence of metal objects in the kitch-
ens of the nobles and citizens were very similar in types of objects, and they represent-
ed approximately between 71-82% (720, 1067) of all items recorded in the documents
(Figs. 7-8).
Standard equipment in the kitchens of the nobles and citizens, were basins and
copper bowls which were used to contain liquids (respectively 2-3, 5% (24-24) and
14-17% (99-177), as well as pots and pans of copper or iron for frying (about 15-11%,
104-115). These were followed by copper spoons (used for fish or for ‘macaroni’), tripod
pans (‘polzonetti’),26 cheese graters, mortars, grills and all the iron tools to be used on
an open fire (e.g., tripods, shovels, tongs, chains for hanging the boiler etc.; see Fig. 9).
Special items were stills, watches for roasting, spit machines, dripping pans, strain-
ers (for mustards), wafer tools (‘ ferri da nevole’) and ‘maccaronari’ (tools for make
‘macaroni’), which were not found in craftsmen’s kitchens. The craftsmen’s kitchens
had less utensils, with less functional differentiation and with a special focus on cop-
per boilers, spits, pans, cheese graters and cauldrons (Fig. 9).
In the category of ceramic kitchen and food storage utensils, we may distinguish
a group of containers which were exclusively designed for olive oil and olives (pots
or jars called ‘lancelle’, ‘pile’, or ‘quartare’; see Fig. 10). The percentage of these ob-
jects decreased enormously from 56% (103) for noble families to 34% (13) for craftsmen
families. This last group used mainly cooking tools (63%, 24), such as pots and pans
(‘pignate’, ‘polzonetti’). Also in this category of kitchen utensils, we can see a larger
differentiation in the middle and upper classes of Abruzzo.
The presence of specific indications, although quite rare, finally allowed me to as-
sociate some objects with one or more intended food items (Table 2). This association
is extremely interesting because, in the absence of other sources, it is the only one that
allows us to add elements of knowledge on the dining habits of the analysed social
contexts.27 In fact, in Table 2, one can see evidence for the use of water and wine, bread
and fruit, pepper, salt, sauces, syrups and vinegar. For these foods, the documents
mention baskets and fruit dishes, pepper pots, salts, sauce boats, mugs, little pots, jugs,
flasks, pitchers and pots (Table 2).
In the kitchen, we can further trace in the documents foods such as bread, cheese,
chestnuts, fish, honey, lard, ‘macaroni’, mustard, cooked must, olives, olive oil, pizza,
pumpkin jam, raisins, salt, spices, sugared almonds, wafers and finally water. All of
them were stored, cooked or prepared, as such, in cauldrons (to make bread); caul-
drons, pots, graters and warmers (for cheese); pans (for cooking chestnuts); spoons,
pans and grills (for frying and grilling fish); vases for honey; spoons and tools for
262

making and cooking ‘macaroni’; cauldrons, spoons and measuring pots for boiling
and preparing must; different kinds of pots for storing olives and olive oil; pans for
pizza; pots or vases for pumpkin jam, raisin, sugared almonds and salt; little spice pots;
iron tools for making wafers (‘nevole’ also known as ‘pizzelle’) and finally cauldrons,
bowls, large pots for the use of warm or cold water.28
t h e a rch a eologic a l data (f igs. 11-18)
Over the last twenty years, archaeological excavations and surface surveys have been
carried out in various coastal towns of the Abruzzo. The related findings, as far as the
Post-Medieval period is concerned, allow for a rather precise reconstruction of the
different ceramic objects for domestic use during the period under study.29
The archaeological evidence of kitchen utensils shows, in general, a remarkable
presence of pots and little pots, pans and casseroles (deep pans), mostly of locally pro-
duced monochrome lead glazed or slip painted glazed wares (Fig. 11).30 These items
were intended for cooking foods in direct contact with an open fire and embers, or
for directly placing on a stove. Among the other items for the preparation / storage of
food, olive oil or olives, the most common found types were jars, small jars for spices
and basins.31
Tableware appears in the archaeological repertoire in a great number of different
forms. All the examined archaeological contexts show a wide presence of Maiolica
and, in particular, of vessels produced in Castelli (Fig. 12). Archaeological evidence
clearly shows how Maiolica objects from Castelli monopolised the tables in the 16th
and 17th centuries with many different shapes and morphological variations.32
The 1994 excavations in the urban centre of Castel Frentano (province of Chieti),
for instance, showed the occurrence of cooking pottery (approximately 23% (877) of
all the total of sherds found), of storage vessels (5%, 199) and tablewares (72%, 2745) in
the Post-Medieval period. Slipped and glazed pottery covered around one quarter of
this last percentage, and Maiolica covered the other three quarters; both of these were
more than half of all the ceramic finds.33
A similar pattern can be seen in excavated contexts in the small town of Nocciano,
located in the Pescara Valley. Here, the pottery assemblages, recovered in 1995-96 from
the town’s rubbish area, consisted of 19.3% (997) cooking wares, 6.6% (345) storage ves-
sels and, at least, 74% (3824) tablewares (consisting of 1/3 Maiolica and 2/3 lead glazed
and slipped vessels) during the 16th and the 17th centuries.34
A more recent example involved the analysis of contexts from excavations carried
out between 2001 and 2003 in the Roman Theatre of Chieti.35 These excavations inves-
tigated an area located near the ancient theatre, whose structures were incorporated,
263

during the Middle Ages, in the town walls and on which several houses were built. In
particular, the finds from ‘Saggio 3’, largely interpreted as waste discharged from the
houses above, were analysed (usa 22, 23, 27, 28).
These layers could be dated to the fourth and sixth decades of the 16th and the be-
ginning of the following century, from the finds of Maiolica from Castelli, slipped and
glazed wares from Anversa degli Abruzzi, slip-painted wares, a few sherds of sgraffito
wares (graffita a stecca padana)36 and Maiolica from Faenza. The counts, based on the
minimum number of items (total: 105), revealed small amounts of metal (2%, 2) and
of glass (1%, 1), but also Maiolica (33%, 35) and other glazed ceramics (both lead glazed
and slipped tablewares; 64%, 67) in a ratio of 1:2 (Fig. 13). Of the Maiolica finds (nmi:
35), the vessels from Castelli add up to three quarters of the total (75%, 26), while one
quarter of the total consists of smaller quantities from other Italian manufacturing
centres (Deruta: 3%, 1; Faenza: 11%, 4).
The comparison of these numbers with the archival data (see Fig. 3) shows close
similarities with the pottery percentages of the craftsmen’s families, with comparable
proportions of Maiolica and other pottery (circa 1:2). As we assume that the houses
above the excavation area, where the finds were uncovered, were inhabited mainly by
middle-class or lower/middle-class families (bourgeois or craftsmen families),37 the
archaeological data allowed us to identify a remarkable coincidence with the archival
data. According to this evidence, the use of ceramics and their role as class markers
seems to be confirmed by the comparison between the excavated and archival data.
Further food for thought, specifically on the use of Maiolica, was provided by the
analysis of tableware objects bearing coats of arms and other types of motifs which
have been archaeologically recovered in the Abruzzo. Finds from excavations and re-
gional surveys, including those from the Roman Theatre of Chieti, showed that dishes
with pseudo-heraldic coats of arms or with simple designs arranged on the rims (Figs.
14-15) were as popular as the use of tableware designed for noble families and marked
with real coats of arms.38 All of these items, manufactured in Castelli, were dated to
the second half of the 16th and the 17th century, and were part of the so-called ‘com-
pendiario’ and later ‘compendiario’ styles.39
Some of the motifs on the rims of the dishes (Fig 14, no. 4; Fig. 15) were clearly
symbols used by merchants as trademarks of their company (the so-called ‘negozio’)
(see Fig. 16), while other coats of arms were pseudo-heraldic variations without any
direct reference to the customer, rather being of common use (Figs. 17-18). According
to the excavated and survey data, objects with such motifs had a significant commer-
cial success and were quite popular, as they were also exported to other regions in the
Adriatic.40
264

conclusion
The comparison of archival data and archaeological finds emphasises the rich variety
of kitchen and table equipment, in this region of central Italy, during the Early Mod-
ern period. The frequent use of metal objects is illustrated particularly in the archival
sources, while the archaeological data show a perspective focused mainly on pottery.
The social stratification, within the region under study, is clearly reflected in the dif-
ferent composition of dining and cooking assemblages. It shows that the noble class
mainly used metal (silver, tin and pewter) and glass/crystal objects on the table, and
had a rich and varied supply of metal objects for use in the kitchen. The bourgeois
class, while trying to imitate the habits of the noble families, used only partially me-
tallic objects and employed mostly Maiolica on the table. Finally, craftsmen typically
used pottery of a lower-quality.
With respect to the ceramic tableware, it is interesting to notice that the wide-
spread use of Maiolica, in the second half of the 16th and in the 17th century, is not
only well known in Abruzzo through the archaeological sources, but also through
the success of a specific type of Maiolica, the so-called ‘compendiario’ style ware.41
With the explosion of the new fashion of ‘bianchi’ (white glazed ceramics), which was
initially manufactured in Faenza in the middle of the 16th century and was quickly
exported to several Italian manufacturing centres (including Castelli), pottery work-
shops were able to offer good aesthetic refinement, a great technological quality and
high production quantities during this period.42
Based on the outcomes of this research, this phenomenon can be seen as the result
of the confirmation of the middle/bourgeois classes in the urban scene and, conse-
quently, of occurrences of imitation that can be attributed to the lower classes. Ac-
cording to the interpretation already given by Richard Goldthwaite in his 1997 article,
Maiolica is the ideal imitation for those consumer goods designed for the élites of
the Early Modern age in Italy, since they can also be identified as social markers.43
This phenomenon is confirmed by the increase in the use of pseudo-heraldic emblems,
which is parallel to the development of a real ‘bourgeois heraldry’,44 and thus is a
tangible sign of the desire to live more nobilium by many of the city’s wealthier classes
during the 16th and 17th centuries.
265

ack now l e dgm e n ts
First of all, I would like to warmly thank Roos van Oosten, Joanita Vroom and Yona
Waksman, who have accepted my paper in this volume, which was originally a poster
presented at the 20th Annual Meeting of the European Association of Archaeologists
in Istanbul.
Furthermore, I would like to thank the Archaeological Service (‘Soprintendenza’)
of Abruzzo – Chieti, especially Dr. Sandra Lapenna, the archaeological Director of
the Museum of Civitella in Chieti, for allowing the study of pottery from excavations
in Chieti, as well as the directors and staff of the State Archives of Chieti, Pescara and
Teramo for the shown availability towards my archival research. Finally, many thanks
to Eleonora Cappuccilli and Joanita Vroom for helping with the English translation
of my text.
266

not es
1 Indipendent researcher (van.verr@micso. 8 Belli 1983; Muto 1989; Musi 1991, 2004;
net; https://independent.academia.edu/ Spagnoletti 2000; Visceglia 1997. It is
VanVerrocchio). – Schuurman 1980; Pesez interesting to compare, for example, the
1980; Braudel 1982; Douglas and Isherwood similar social stratification that comes out in
1984; Brewer and Porter 1993; Schuurman the first half of the 17th century in the little
and Walsh 1994; Goldthwaite 1995; Roche city of Montefusco (Campania): nobles
1999. See for a recent synthesis, Hicks and (c. 5% of the identified owners), citizens-
Beaudry 2010. bourgeois (c. 24%), craftsmen and other
2 See for such an approach, Vroom 2003. workers (c. 45%) (Belli 1983: 349-350). The
3 See, for example, Ago 2006 for Rome; ‘Catasto’ of 1627 of Monopoli (Apulia),
Bellavitis and Chabot 2006, Bellavitis 2010 another city of the Kingdom of Naples,
and Cecchini 2008 for Venice; Pinchera shows a more restricted noble class (c. 3%)
2004 for Florence; Tonelli 2012 for Milan and citizen/bourgeois class (c. 10%) with
and Bettoni 2003; idem 2006; idem 2010 for a larger class of workers and craftsmen (c.
Brescia. See also Goldthwaite 1995. 87%); cf. Carrino 2000, 28-38.
4 Milanese 1997; idem 2007; Gelichi 9 For example, in a great city like Venice in the
and Librenti 2007. See also the Journal 16th century (Cecchini 2008) we can find
‘Archeologia Postmedievale’ founded by patricians, citizens (including professionals,
Marco Milanese in 1997 and the Proceedings international merchants and high status
of the International Conferences (‘Atti dei tradesmen, Senate secretaries and other high
Convegni Internazionali della Ceramica’) mansions in civil service) and craftsmen
organized by the ‘Centro Ligure per la Storia (every producer/seller of marketable
della Ceramica’ in Albisola and Savona. goods). To these subject Cecchini adds the
5 See Camarra 1651; Nicolino 1657; Ravizza labourers, as unskilled workers, craftsmen
1830; idem 1832; idem 1834. See for a general at the Arsenale, fishermen, boatmen
overview on the historical period and the and servants. We can also compare these
geographical area, Russo and Tiboni 2002; stratifications with similar ones on the
Canosa 2004; Tanturri 2004; de Tiberiis Eastern Adriatic coast, for example from the
2007; Trotta 2009; idem 2011. city of Zara (Croatia), part of the Venetian
6 Russo and Tiboni 2002, 479-498; Tanturri Commonwealth in the 16th century, cf.
2004; Trotta 2011; Di Paolantonio 2013. Sander-Faes 2013.
7 Russo and Tiboni 2002. See also, for 10 State Archive of Chieti, ‘Catasto
example, Carabba 1995 for Lanciano; Preonciario’ of Chieti, 1651.
Colapietra 1978; idem 1979; idem 1986; 11 Have been excluded from the counting all
Mantini 2009, 222-231 for L’Aquila and the families of countrymen, farmers and
Palma 1833; Savini 1895 for Teramo. farm-workers living and working in the land
267

outside the urban centre. The noble families 2006; de Tiberiis 2004; Zuccarini 2011.
recorded in 1651 as living in Chieti are the The merchant families living in Chieti in
following: Alucci, Camarra, Carafa, Celaya, 1651 coming from the Republic of Venice
Coccia, Costantino, d’Alessandro, d’Aquino, and Duchy of Milan are: Bianchino, Bosis,
Dario, de Caro, de Letto, de Pizzis, de Santis, Bramino Morrone, Camererio, Carignone,
Enrici, Fanzago, Iarossi, Lanuti, Leognani, Consardis, Costa, Durino, Ferrara, Mazza,
Leopardi, Liberatore, Mezzara, Montagnese, Melcotto, Mezzanotte, Modesto, Moscone,
Onofri, Orsini, Pomenti, Poppleti, Noli, Paino, Pavese, Riboli, Schiera, Spinelli,
Ramignani, Roccatano, Santese, Stefanucci, Tasca, Tauldino, Vascellino, Ziboni (State
Strina, Tauldino, Toppi, Turri, Umani, Archive of Chieti, ‘Catasto Preonciario’ of
Valignani. Chieti, 1651).
12 See: Procacci 1995. The noble families 14 A lot of these craftsmen are of local/regional
recorded in Penne in 1600 are: Benvenuto, origin, but there is also a strong presence
Branconio, de Caro, Castiglione, of bakers, shoemakers, carpenters, masons,
Costantino, d’Ugno, Fieramosca, Gizzi, stucco workers, etc, coming from the
Nobili, Roccatano, Rosa, Scorpioni, Duchy of Milan, for example the following
Turri, Valignani, Vestini, Zizza. The families recorded in the ‘Catasto’ of 1651:
citizens/bourgeois families are: Albini, Calvanzano, Daniola, di Carlo, Ferada,
Amicavecchio, Amicucci, Antonioli, Parrocchetto, Sacco. As said, this lower class
Appignani, Apollinari, Armellino, does not include the countrymen, farmers
Aromatico, Bellone, Blasiotti, Bongiovanni, and farm-workers living and working in the
Cardone, Cellini, Chiarelli, Chiola, Coffo, land around the city (ville).
Colella, Cosmo, Costantini, Cotela, 15 Preserved in the State Archives in Chieti,
Crocetta, Damiani, de Magistris, de Parvis, Pescara and Teramo. Only few inventories
del Vino, della Valle, di Norscia, Ducaginni, come from different archival sources such as
Fabri, Frigoli, Fonticoli, Fornarolo, Grandi, the fund of Royal Audience (‘Regia Udienza
Iacobucci, Lambi, Lepore, Liberatore, Provinciale’, in State Achive of Chieti) in
Maldura, Marautti, Massarotti, Mattucci, which are kept legal proceedings of that
Mazzocco, Musa, Olivieri, Pagliaccia, court.
Palantano, Pansa, Pellegrini, Perna, Pilone, 16 See notes 10-12. To identify families
Pipoli, Pistaricchio, Presutti, Ranciaffi, belonging to the noble class of Chieti,
Rasicci, Rubeo, Sarracino, Savini, Scorta, and more generally to government élites,
Tanforti, Terranegra, Tofano, Toppetta, reference was made to lists and names
Totera, Troncavizio, Umili, Zaccheo, Zozzo. contained in Camarra 1651; Nicolino 1657;
13 For aspects of economic history linked Ravizza 1830; idem 1834; Tanturri 2004;
to the presence of merchant colonies in Trotta 2011; Di Paolantonio 2013. Data from
Abruzzo, mainly from the Republic of the literature have been used, along with a
Venice and Lombardy, see Bulgarelli Lukacs thorough analysis conducted by the writer
268

on several thousand notarial acts (sales, wills, (from Pesaro), Gelmi (from Bergamo),
lists of dowry items, etc.), on registers of the Giufici, Labruto, Malcotti (from Cremona),
‘Parlamenti Teatini’ and on court documents Marano, Mazza (from Bergamo), Menducci,
contained in the archival collection of the Orlandi, Perrucolo, Roncitello, Rotondi,
Royal Audience (for these archival found Salamone, Santese, Strina (from Naples),
see: Viggiani 1981). A similar procedure was Vascellino (from Bergamo); in Pescara:
carried out for the other towns (Ortona, Battistone, Brunoro, Cirillo, Compagnese
Pescara, Penne etc.) and small towns (from Atri) and Graziani; in Penne: del
(Manoppello, Tocco etc.) for which, by Vino, Medolaghi (from Bergamo), Turri;
referring to the published literature – see in Ortona: di Crescenzo; in S. Valentino:
for example Romanelli 1990; Greco 1988; Iacobucci; in Atri: Filomusi; in Manoppello:
Rubini 1988; Procacci 1995 – the archival Landi; in Tocco: Tofani.
documents were analysed, and in particular 19 See, for example, Bellavitis 2004. As
the acts of notaries working in these areas. craftsmen are counted here, for Chieti:
These unpublished documents allowed us to Andrea d’Ettorre (magister), Iuva di
identify the profession of the owner of the Francesco (barber), Giuseppe Angelucci
goods listed and therefore his rightful place (magister), Donato Ferada (stucco worker
in the social hierarchy under study. from Cerasco, Como); for Ortona:
17 See Table 1. Probate inventories belonging Costantino Ciamaglia (goldsmith), Giovan
to members of noble class found as living Maria di Giacomo (magister), Giovanni
in Chieti are the following: Dario (family di Zaccaria (baker), for Penne: Giacomo
coming from Manoppello), de Fabritiis Pellegrini, Gregorio Zaccheo (goldsmith),
(from Rosciano), De Letto, de Podio (from for Pescara: Tiberio Riva (smith).
Penne), Enrici, Lanuti, Michelini (from 20 From the Latin words creta, -ae: clay, and
Pescara), Tauldino, Toppi, Valignani, rusticus, -um: adjective standing for simple,
Vastavigna, Lamensa and de Belendez rough, coarse (see Castiglioni and Mariotti
(families spanish origin); in Ortona are: 1966, ad vocem). For all the object’s names
Barba (from Naples), Bernardi, Massari; in dialect and/or in popular form, see
in Penne are: Castiglione and Stefanucci. Giammarco 1968-1979.
Other noble families are Leognani 21 Castelli (province of Teramo) was the most
Fieramosca (in Civitaquana) and Torricella important Maiolica production centre in
(in Vacri). Abruzzo in this period (16th-17th c.). See de
18 See Table 1. To families of the citizens- Pompeis et al. 1989; idem 1990; de Pompeis
bourgeois class belong the following 2010, 96-105, 185-204.
inventories: in Chieti: Belvedere, Brigante 22 Anversa degli Abruzzi (L’Aquila) is another
(from Ripa), Ciampone, Costa (from Cava pottery production centre from the 16th
de’ Tirreni), Cotela, Eppis (from Bergamo), to the 20th centuries; see, for example,
Ferrari, Franchi, Franchino Verrocchio 2003; idem 2012.
269

23 It is unclear if Assisi can be considered as the 30 Verrocchio 2002; idem 2003, 534-544; idem
real provenience of the described ceramics; 2003a, 98-103; idem 2015; Taraborrelli,
the most probably provenience however is Troiano and Verrocchio 2005, 98-101, figs.
the production centre of Deruta (Umbria) 25-26; Proterra, Troiano and Verrocchio
located only few kilometres from Assisi. 2005, 350-354, figs. 52-54; Mattiocco,
24 See note 19. Latin adjective grossus, -um: Troiano and Verrocchio 2006, 119-124.
coarse, rough; terra, -ae: clay (Castiglioni 31 Troiano and Verrocchio 2002, 95-167.
and Mariotti 1966, ad vocem) as synonym of 32 Regional patterns are in Staffa and Pannuzi
earthenware. 1997; idem 1999; Troiano and Verrocchio
25 This kind of ware is similar to the so-called 2002, 169-183, 185-261, 313-342; for some
‘Persan Blu’ ware. In Castelli it was produced other finds from Guardiagrele (Chieti):
from the last quarter of the 16th to the Taraborrelli, Troiano and Verrocchio 2005,
beginning of the 17th century. See M. Ricci 89-96, figs. 4, 6-15; from Teramo: Proterra,
in de Pompeis et al. 1989, 135-140; idem 1989, Troiano and Verrocchio 2005, 338-354,
C105-126; Troiano and Verrocchio 2002, figs. 9-18, 22-37; see also the finds from
206-207. the Convent of S. Domenico in L’Aquila:
26 For the understanding of this and the Verrocchio 2011, 138-148, figs. 51-70, 98-123.
following terms, in the 17th-18th c. Italian/ 33 See Troiano and Verrocchio 2002, Appendix
dialectal language, see first: Giammarco 1. The described percentage is calculated on
1968-1979, completed with some Early all the post-medieval pottery shards coming
Modern treatises as Cervio 1593 and Scappi from the usa 2, excluding Early Medieval
1622. and Medieval residue and the 19th century
27 The research on dining and cooking habits phase. The occurence of Maiolica is around
in Early Modern Abruzzo are just beginning. the 53%.
See for general references in Italy, Flandrin 34 For this unpublished context see Troiano
and Montanari 1997; Sarti 2008; see also: and Verrocchio 2002, 398. The counting is
Benporat 2007 and the essays in Cogotti and based on the following S.U.: 3, 5, 5bis, 6, 7,
di Schino 2012, expecially focused on nobles 9, 10, 12, 18, 23, 28/30 and 30bis. All of them
élites. covers the period from the beginning of the
28 The listed object and the related food can be 16th to the 17th century.
largely compared, for example, with the 17th 35 See Troiano and Verrocchio 2003;
occurrence in Rome; cf. Ago 2006, 87-93. Verrocchio 2015, 350-352.
29 Staffa and Pannuzi 1997; idem 1999; Troiano 36 Verrocchio 2015, fig. 4, n. 2.
and Verrocchio 2001; idem 2002; Proterra, 37 No noble families are known as living in this
Troiano and Verrocchio 2005; Taraborrelli, specific area during this period.
Troiano and Verrocchio 2005; Verrocchio 38 The use of noble coat of arms on Renaissance
2003; idem 2007; idem 2011; idem 2012; and later italian Maiolica is a widely known
idem 2015. phenomenon with a large bibliography.
270

For some example see Goldthwaite 1997; Other bourgeois families using seals with
Barbe 2006; Crépin-Leblond 2011; Sani their own coat of arms in Chieti are, only
2012, 48-50. for example: Assettati, Caporni, Cesario,
39 Troiano 2002, 185-240; de Pompeis 2010, Comparozzi, Franchi, Giufici, Miziani and
96-105, 185-204. Vicoli.
40 Castelli Maiolica plates with pseudo- Sources: State Archive, Chieti; the
heraldic coat of arms are known from several following notaries: E. Sigismondi of
places in Abruzzo (Troiano 2002). Other Chieti, 1588, sept. 24th in Chieti (seal of
finds comes from excavations in the city of Camillo Assettato, medicinae doctor); F.A.
Rimini (Emilia Romagna) (Piolanti 2004, Caporni of Chieti, 1734, october 4th and
106, n. 130) and from the Adriatic Croatian T. Franchi jr of Chieti, 1747, august 18th
coast (Hvar, Jaska Palace: Gusar and (seals of the notary Francesco Antonio
Viskovic 2012, 24, n. 59). Caporni); A. Pecorino of Chieti, 1592,
41 See, for example, all the papers contained in february 28th (seal of Scipione Cesario,
de Pompeis 2010. utroque iuris doctor); V. Giufici senior
42 The term ‘bianchi’ is commonly used for of Chieti, 1695, may 25th (seal of Nicola
the new ‘compendiario’ style ware born in Comparozzi, druggist), 1696, july 31 (seal
Faenza (Ravanelli Guidotti 1996; Jaspers of the notary Vincenzo Giufici); T. Franchi
2011, 20-33). For the ‘compendiario’ ware senior of Chieti, 1684, december 7th (seal
adopted in Castelli see Troiano 2002, 185- of the notary Tullio Franchi senior), 1679,
240; de Pompeis 2010, 96-105, 185-204. april 29 (seal of the notary Domenico
43 Goldthwaite 1997. Giufici), 1678, may 5 (seal of Giustino
44 The development of a bourgeois heraldry Vicolo, royal judge); T. Franchi junior of
in the 16th-17th centuries can be read Chieti, 1758, january 13th (seal used by
through different sources (e.g. architectural Urbano Camillo Franchi utroque iuris
and pictorial evidences). For Chieti the doctor and Francesco Vincenzo Franchi,
archival research has revealed a great abbot); D.A. Giufici of Chieti, 1735, april
number of seals bearing coat of arms that 19 (seal used by the notary Domenico
belong to bourgeois families, for example Antonio Giufici); F. Tucci of Chieti, 1726,
the merchant families of Ballio, Benvenuto, june 21 (seal used by Marcantonio Miziani
Gelmi, Mazza, Mezzanotte, Moscone, utroque iuris doctor); M. Schips of Castel
Muzio, Patriarca and Vascellino (see note 10, Castagna, 1674, october 5 (seal of Giustino
17 and table 1). Vicoli, royal judge).
271

bi bl iogr a ph y
Ago, R. 2006. Il gusto delle cose. Una storia degli oggetti nella Roma del Seicento, Rome.
Barbe, F. 2006. Il vasellame da pompa: l’uso degli stemmi e dei motti nella maiolica
del Rinascimento, in: F. Barbe and C. Ravanelli Guidotti (eds.), Forme e ‘ diverse
pitture’ della maiolica italiana. La collezione delle maioliche del Petit Palais della
città di Parigi, Catalogue of the Exibition in Faenza, Museo Internazionale delle
Ceramiche, october 2006 – february 2007, Venice, 45-49.
Bellavitis, A. 2004. ‘Ars mechanica’ e gerarchie sociali a Venezia tra xvi e xvii secolo,
in: M. Arnoux and P. Monnet (eds.), Le technicien dans la cité en Europe occiden-
tale, 1250-1650, Rome, 161-79.
Bellavitis, A. and I. Chabot 2006. People and Property in Florence and Venice, in: M.
Ajmar-Wollheim and F. Dennis (eds.), At Home in Renaissance Italy, London &
New York, 76-85.
Bellavitis, A. 2010. Women, family, and property in Early Modern Venice, in: J.G.
Sperling and S.K. Wray (eds.), Across the Religious Divide. Women, Property, and
Law in the Wider Mediterranean (ca. 1300-1800), New York, 175-90.
Belli, C. 1983. Famiglia, proprietà e classi sociali a Montefusco nella prima metà del
xvii secolo, Mélanges de l’Ecole française de Rome. Moyen-Age, Temps modernes,
95.1, 339-92.
Benporat, C. 2007. Cucina e convivialità italiana del Cinquecento, Città di Castello.
Bettoni, B. 2003. Spazi domestici e oggetti d’arte nelle famiglie agiate bresciane dell’Età
Moderna, University of Brescia, Dipartimento di Studi Sociali. See also: http://
www.unibs.it/sites/default/files/ricerca/allegati/Bettoni03.pdf (date last checked
15/06/2015).
Bettoni, B. 2006. Aristocrazia senza corte: interni domestici a Brescia nel corso del
xvi° e xvii° secolo, Le Journal de la Renaissance iv, 9-24.
Bettoni, B. 2010. I beni dell’agiatezza. Stili di vita nelle famiglie bresciane dell’età mod-
erna, Milan.
Braudel, F. 1982. Civiltà materiale, economia e capitalismo. Le strutture del quotidiano
(secoli xv-xviii), Torino.
Brewer, J. and R. Porter 1993. Introduction, in: J. Brewer and R. Porter (eds.), Con-
sumption and the World of Goods, London & New York, 1-18.
Bulgarelli Lukacs, A. 2006. L’economia ai confini del regno. Mercato, territorio, inse-
diamenti in Abruzzo (xv-xix secolo), Lanciano.
Camarra, L. 1651. De Teate antiquo Marrucinorum in Italia metropoli, Rome.
Canosa, R. 2004. Storia dell’Abruzzo in Età Spagnola (1505-1707), Pescara.
Carabba, F. 1995. Lanciano. Un profilo storico. Dalle origini al 1860, Lanciano.
272

Carrino, A. 2000. La città aristocratica. Linguaggi e pratiche della politica a Monopoli

fra Cinque e Seicento, Bari.
Castiglioni, L. and S. Mariotti 1966. Vocabolario della lingua latina, Milano.
Cecchini, I. 2008. Material culture in Sixteenth Century Venice: a sample from probate
inventories, 1510-1615, Working Papers 14, Department of Economics, Ca’ Foscari
University of Venice, Venice. http://www.unive.it/media/allegato/DIP/Econo-
mia/Working_papers/Working_papers_2008/WP_DSE_cecchini_14_08.pdf
(date last checked 15/06/2015).
Cervio, V. 1593. Il Trinciante…. Ampliato et a perfettione ridotto dal Cavalier Reale Fu-
soritto da Narni, già Trinciante dell’Illustrissimo Signor Cardinale Farnese, Rome.
Chiarizia, G. (ed) 1990. Centri storici della Val Pescara dall’Evo Medio ai nostri giorni,
S. Atto di Teramo.
Cogotti, M. and J. di Schino (eds.) 2012. Magnificenze a tavola. Le arti del banchetto
rinascimentale, Catalogue of the Exposition in Tivoli, Villa d’Este, june-november
2012, Rome.
Colapietra, R. 1978. L’Aquila dell’Antinori. Strutture sociali ed urbane della città nel
Sei e Settecento, in: A. Clementi and R. Colapietra (eds.), Antinoriana. Studi per
il bicentenario della morte di Antonio Ludovico Antinori, vol. 1, L’Aquila, 663-792.
Colapietra, R. 1979. Prestigio sociale e potere reale nell’Aquila d’antico regime (1575-
1800), Critica Storica xvi.3, 370-405.
Colapietra, R. 1986. Gli aquilani di antico regime di fronte alla morte (1535-1780), Rome.
Crépin-Leblond, T. 2011. Décors héraldique et emblématiques, in: F. Barbe and T.
Crépin-Leblond (eds.), Majolique. La faïence italienne au temps des humanistes
1480-1530, Catalogue of the Exposition in Ecouen, Musée national de la Reinas-
sance, october 2011 – february 2012, Paris, 55-67.
Douglas, M. and B. Isherwood 1984. Il mondo delle cose: oggetti, valori, consumo,
Bologna.
Flandrin, J.-L. and M. Montanari (eds.) 1997. Storia dell’alimentazione, Rome & Bari.
Gelichi, S. and M. Librenti (eds.) 2007. Constructing post-medieval archaeology in
Italy: a new agenda, Proceedings of the International Conference (Venice, 24th
and 25th November 2006), Florence.
Giammarco, E. 1968-1979. Dizionario abruzzese-molisano, vols. 1-4, Rome.
Goldthwaite, R.A. 1995. Ricchezza e domanda nel mercato dell’arte in Italia dal Tre-
cento al Seicento. La cultura materiale e le origini del consumismo, Milan.
Goldthwaite, R.A. 1997. Il mondo economico e sociale della maiolica italiana del Ri-
nascimento, Faenza lxxxiii, 4-6, 176-204.
Greco, C. 1988. Penne capitale farnesiana. Lo stato aprutino di Margherita d’Austria,
Penne.
273

Gusar, K. and E. Viskovic 2012. Keramika kasnog srednjeg i ranog novog vijeka s pod-
ručja grada Hvara, Hvar.
Hicks, D. and M. C. Beaudry 2010. Introduction: Material culture studies: A reac-
tionary view, in: D. Hicks and M. C. Beaudry (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Ma-
terial Culture Studies, Oxford, 1-21.
Jaspers, N. L. 2011. ‘Clean, cheap & truly enjoyable’. Italian maiolica excavated in the
Netherlands (1550-1700): The supremacy of Ligurian merchandise and rarities
from other production regions, Archeologia Postmedievale 15, 11-39.
Mantini, S. 2009. L’Aquila spagnola. Percorsi di identità, conflitti, convivenze (secc.
xvi-xvii), Rome.
Mattiocco, E., D. Troiano and V. Verrocchio 2006. Materiali da Castel di Sangro
(aq). Ceramiche medievali e postmedievali fra Abruzzo e Molise, Azulejos. Rivis-
ta di Studi Ceramici 3, 103-44.
Milanese, M. (ed.) 1997. Archeologia Postmedievale: l’esperienza europea e l’Italia, Atti
del Convegno Internazionale di Studi, Sassari, 17-20 ottobre 1994, Florence.
Milanese, M. 2007. Post-medieval archaeology in Italy: General issues and ten years of
research (1995-2005), in: S. Gelichi and M. Librenti (eds.), Constructing Post-Medi-
eval Archaeology in Italy, Florence, 41-50.
Musi, A. 1991. Mezzogiorno spagnolo. La via napoletana allo stato moderno, Naples.
Musi, A. 2004. Il Viceregno spagnolo (1503-1707), in: G. Vitolo and A. Musi (eds.),
Il Mezzogiorno prima della questione meridionale, Florence, 137-42.
Muto, G. 1989. Il Regno di Napoli sotto la dominazione spagnola, in: G. Cherubini
(ed), Storia della società italiana: la Controriforma e il Seicento, Milan.
Nicolino, G. 1657, Historia della città di Chieti metropoli delle provincie d’Abruzzo
divisa in tre libri, Naples.
Palma, N. 1833. Storia ecclesiastica e civile della regione più settentrionale del Regno di
Napoli detta dagli antichi Praetutium, ne’ bassi tempi Aprutium oggi città di Tera-
mo e diocesi aprutina, vol. iii, Teramo.
Paolantonio, S. Di 2013. Nobilità, patriziato e fazione: I Valignani a Chieti tra
Cinquecento e Seicento, Bullettino della Deputazione Abruzzese di Storia Patria,
2013, 93-130.
Pesez, J.M. 1980. Storia della cultura materiale, in: J. Le Goff (ed.), La nuova storia,
Milan, 167-205.
Pinchera, V. 2004. Il consumo d’arte a Firenze in Età Moderna. Le collezioni Martelli,
Riccardi e Salvati nei secoli xvii e xviii, Discussion Paper 50, University of Pisa.
Piolanti, O. 2004. Ceramiche da mensa e da cucina nella Rimini del Seicento, in:
A. Mazza and P.G. Pasini (eds.), Seicento inquieto. Arte e cultura a Rimini, Cata-
logue of the Exibition in Rimini, March-June 2004, Milan, 97-109.
274

Pompeis, C. de et al. 1989. Le maioliche cinquecentesche di Castelli. Una grande stagione

artistica ritrovata, Pescara.
Pompeis, C. de et al. 1990. Castelli e la maiolica cinquecentesca italiana, Proceedings
of the Conference in Pescara, april 22-25 1989, Pescara.
Pompeis, V. de (ed.) 2010. La maiolica italiana di stile compendiario. I bianchi, Cata-
logue of the exhibition in Ascoli, Faenza and Rome, Torino, 2 vols.
Procacci, A. 1995. Premesse di una rivoluzione. Penne 1600-1647, Penne.
Proterra, M.R., D. Troiano and V. Verrocchio 2005. ‘Ceramiche medievali e postme-
dievali dalla raccolta Nardini-Marcattilii di Teramo’, Azulejos. Rivista di Studi
Ceramici 2, 335-55.
Ravanelli Guidotti, C. 1996. Faenza-faïence. ‘Bianchi’ da Faenza, Ferrara.
Ravizza, G. 1830. Notizie biografiche che riguardano gli uomini illustri della città di
Chieti e domiciliati in essa distinti in santità dottrina e dignità tratte da diversi au-
tori accresciute e pubblicate con annotazioni, Naples.
Ravizza, G. 1832. Collezione di diplomi e di altri documenti de’ tempi di mezzo e recenti
da servire alla storia di Chieti, vol. 1, Naples.
Ravizza, G. 1834. Appendice alle notizie biografiche degli uomini illustri della città di
Chieti, Chieti.
Roche, D. 1999. Storia delle cose banali. La nascita del consumo in Occidente, Rome.
Romanelli, D. 1990. Ortona, Ortona.
Rubini, A. 1988. Storia di Penne, Penne.
Russo, U. and E. Tiboni (eds.) 2002. L’Abruzzo dall’Umanesimo all’età barocca, Is-
tituto Nazionale di Studi Crociani & Centro Nazionale di Studi Dannunziani,
Pescara.
Sander-Faes, S. K. 2013. Urban Elites of Zara. Dalmatia and the Venetian Common-
wealth (1540-69), Rome.
Sani, E. P. 2012. Italian Renaissance Maiolica, Hong Kong.
Sarti, R. 2008. Vita di casa. Abitare, mangiare, vestire nell’Europa moderna, Bari.
Savini, F. 1895. Il comune teramano nella sua vita intima e pubblica dai più antichi tem-
pi ai moderni: racconti e studii seguiti da documenti e da tavole, Rome.
Scappi, B. 1622. Opera di M. Bartolomeo Scappi mastro dell’arte del cucinare, con la
quale si può ammaestrare qualsivoglia cuoco, scalco, trinciante, o mastro di casa. Di-
visa in sei libri… Con le figure che fannodii bisogno nella cucina. Aggiuntovi nuova-
mente il Trinciante, & il Mastro di casa, Venice.
Schuurman, A. 1980. Probate Inventories: Research issues, problems and results, in:
A. Van der Woulde and A. Schuurman (eds.), Probate Inventories: A New Source
for the Historical Study of Wealth, Material Culture and Agricultural Development,
Utrecht, 19-31.
275

Schuurman, A. J. and L. Walsh 1994. Introduction, in: Material Culture: Consump-

tion, Life-style, Standard of Living 1500-1900, Proceedings of the Eleventh Interna-
tional Economic History Congress, Milan, September 1994, Milan, 7-20.
Spagnoletti, A. 2000. Ceti dirigenti cittadini e costruzione dell’identità urbana nelle
città pugliesi tra xvi e xvii secolo, in: A. Musi (ed.), Le città del Mezzo giorno nell
‘età moderna, Naples, 25-40.
Staffa, A.R. and S. Pannuzi 1997. Primo contributo sull’archeologia postmedievale in
Abruzzo. Produzioni ceramiche di uso comune fra xv e xviii secolo, Archeologia
Postmedievale 1, 329-50.
Staffa, A.R. and S. Pannuzi 1999. Produzioni ceramiche di uso comune in Abruzzo fra
xv e xviii secolo, Castelli. Semestrale del Museo delle Ceramiche, 10-11.
Tanturri, A. 2004. Episcopato, clero e società a Chieti in età moderna, Lanciano.
Taraborrelli, L., D. Troiano and V. Verrocchio 2005. La ceramica postmedievale a
Guardiagrele (ch) da contesti di consumo e scarti di produzione locale, Azulejos.
Rivista di Studi Ceramici 2, 87-104.
Tiberiis, G. F. de 2004, Migranti dal Nord: Stanziamenti lombardo-veneti nelle pro-
vincie adriatiche del regno di Napoli, Commentari dell’Ateneo di Brescia, Atti della
Fondazione ‘Ugo da Como’, Lonato del Garda, 169-202.
Tiberiis, G. F. de 2007. Chieti nell’età moderna, Chieti.
Tonelli, G. 2012. Affari e lussuosa sobrietà. Traffici e stili di vita dei negozianti milanesi
nel xvii secolo (1600-1659), Milan.
Troiano, D. 2002. Maiolica con decorazione di stile compendiario e tardo compendi-
ario, in: Troiano and Verrocchio 2002, 185-240.
Troiano, D. and V. Verrocchio 2001. Ceramiche quali indicatori di traffici commercia-
li fra Abruzzo, Molise e regioni limitrofe fra xv e xvii secolo, Archeologia Postme-
dievale 5, 225-45.
Troiano, D. and V. Verrocchio (eds.) 2002. La ceramica postmedievale in Abruzzo. Ma-
teriali dallo scavo in Piazza Caporali a Castelfrentano, Documenti di Archeologia
Postmedievale 1, Florence.
Troiano, D. and V. Verrocchio 2003. Produzioni locali e importazioni di ceramiche
postmedievali in Chieti: Primi dati sui materiali dallo scavo del Teatro Romano,
Archeologia Postmedievale 7, 221-34.
Trotta, M. 2009. Chieti moderna. Profilo storico di una città del Mezzogiorno d’antico
regime (secc. xvi-xviii), Naples.
Trotta, M. 2011. Governo locale e feudalità in Abruzzo Citra: Chieti tra privilegio
regio e controllo aristocratico (xv-xviii secolo), in G. Brancaccio (ed.), Il feudales-
imo nel mezzogiorno moderno. Gli Abruzzi e il Molise (secoli xv-xviii), Milan, 183-
240.
276

Verrocchio, V. 2002. Invetriata dipinta ad ingobbio (Slip Ware), in: D. Troiano and
V. Verrocchio (eds.), La ceramica postmedievale in Abruzzo. Materiali dallo scavo
in Piazza Caporali a Castelfrentano, Documenti di Archeologia Postmedievale 1,
Florence, 21-88.
Verrocchio, V. 2003. Dalla vetrina sparsa alle prime invetriate nell’Abruzzo interno
(secc. xiii-xvi): Materiali dagli scavi del Palazzo della SS. Annunziata in Sulmona
(aq), Archeologia Medievale 30, 529-47.
Verrocchio, V. 2003a. La ceramica postmedievale di Anversa degli Abruzzi (aq): Fon-
ti archivistiche ed archeologiche, Archeologia Postmedievale 7, 93-121.
Verrocchio, V. 2007. Produzioni invetriate in Abruzzo fra ‘800 e ‘900. Sulmona ed il
‘monopolio’ di Anversa degli Abruzzi (aq), Azulejos. Rivista di Studi Ceramici 4,
97-178.
Verrocchio, V. 2011. I rinvenimenti di ceramiche medievali e postmedievali, in: M.
D’Antonio (ed.), San Domenico all’Aquila. Il restauro del complesso monumentale,
Sommacampagna, 132-58.
Verrocchio, V. 2012. Le ceramiche postmedievali di Anversa degli Abruzzi (L’Aquila).
Ricerche 2000-2012, Albisola. Atti del Convegno internazionale della Ceramica
45, 257-72.
Verrocchio, V. 2015. Produzione ceramica a Chieti nella prima Età Moderna. Fonti
archivistiche ed archeologiche, in: P. Arthur and M. L. Imperiale (eds.), vii Con-
gresso Nazionale di Archeologia Medievale, vol. 2, Lecce, 9-12 settembre 2015, Flor-
ence, 349-53.
Viggiani, C. 1981. Archivio di Stato di Chieti, in: Guida generale degli Archivi di Stato
italiani, 1, Rome, 895-925.
Visceglia, M.A. 1997. La nobiltà nel Mezzogiorno d’Italia in età moderna, Storica 7,
49-96.
the 20th centuries AC: A Case Study from Boeotia, Central Greece, Archaeological
Zuccarini, N. 2011. La colonia veneta nella provincia di Chieti nei secc. xvii e xviii,
Lanciano.
277

fig. 1 – Map of the Kingdom of Naples, Abruzzi provinces and the investigated area
(circle). Credit: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/62/A._Zatta_-_Il_
Regno_di_Napoli_diviso_nelle_sue_Provincie_-_1782.PNG.
278

fig. 2 – Map of coastal Abruzzo with the cities of Chieti, Ortona, Penne and Atri: number of probates
inventories analized for urban centres (V. Verrocchio).
279

fig. 3 – Tablewares by class of material (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 5 – Tablewares: ceramic objects (V. Verrocchio).
280

fig. 7 – Kitchen or food storage by class of material (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 8 – Kitchen or food storage: metal, stone and wooden objects (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 9 – See colour plates page 390-391.
281

fig. 11 – Locally/regional produced lead glazed cooking wares from archaeological sources: the most
common forms (second half of the 16th – 17th centuries). 1-5: little pots; 6-11: double handed medium
and large pots; 12-22: pans and tripod pans; 23-27: casseroles; 28-31: lids. Provenience: ns. 1-3, 6-7: from
Chieti (Verrocchio 2015); ns. 8, 17, 21-22: from Città S. Angelo (Verrocchio 2002, figs. 44, 46); ns. 9,
26: from Miglianico (Verrocchio 2002, fig. 51); ns. 10-11, 23-25: from Pescara (Verrocchio 2002, fig. 58);
ns. 12-16, 18-20, 28-31: from Penne (unpublished).
282

fig. 12 – Castelli Maiolica from archaeological sources: the most common forms (second half of the
16th – 17th centuries). 1-5. Cups and lobed cups; 6-10. Little plates; 11-17. Plates and large deep plates;
18-20. Bowls; 21-25. Jugs; 26. Pitcher; 27. Double handled flask; 28. Ewer; 29. Bottle; 30-32. Albarelli
and micro albarelli (spices/ointment pots); 33-35. Salts; 36-37. Lids; 38-39. Alzate (fruit dishes); 40-41.
Pots; 42-43. Hand washing bassins. Provenience: ns. 1-3, 24-25: from Pescara (unpublished); ns. 4-7,
11-13, 15-19, 21-23, 26-27, 32-33, 40-41: from Castel Frentano (Chieti) (Troiano and Verrocchio 2002,
figs. 200-201); ns. 8-9, 14, 20, 28, 30, 31, 34-39, 42-43: from Castelli (de Pompeis et al. 1989, tabs. iii-ix).
283

fig. 13 – Chieti, Roman Theatre, excavations in 2003, ‘Saggio 3’, usa 27 (ca. 1530/40 – 1620) (V.
Verrocchio).
fig. 14 – Chieti, Roman Theatre, excavations in 2003. Exemples of majolica plates with pseudo-heral-
dic coat of arms (1-3) and merchant’s marks (4-5). Produced in Castelli, 17th century (V. Verrocchio).
284

fig. 15 – Chieti, exemples of majolica plates with commercial and merchant’s marks found in urban
excavations. Produced in Castelli, 17th century (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 16 – Some exemples of commercial marks (signa) of merchants living in Chieti in the second half
of the 16th – beginning of the 17th centuries from the archivial sources. 1. belongs to Battista Morone;
2. Francesco Vascellino; 3. Orazio Vascellino, all from Bergamo; 4. Ascanio Santese (source: elabora-
tion from seals used in notary records, in State Archive, Chieti) (V. Verrocchio).
285

Year Owner City Spouse Social Occupation Archival references (notaries or other)
class
1 1560 d’Ettorre Andrea Chieti Mennibucci Craftsmen ASCH , Fiorentini N.A. of Chieti, 1560, fols.163 r-
Antonia 165 r
2 1561 di Francesco Iuva Chieti Berardina Craftsmen Barber ASCH , Fiorentini N.A. of Chieti, 1561, fols. 22 r-24 v
3 1564 Belvedere Matteo Chieti Spingarderi Citizen ASCH , Delle Carceri O. of Chieti, 1564, fols. 21r-24 r
Rita
4 1564 Gariglia Giuseppe Chieti di n.d. ASCH , Fiorentini N.A. of Chieti, 1564, fols. 4 r-7 v
Costantino
Ippolita
5 1570 Toparelli Berardino Chieti n.d. ASCH , Fiorentini N.A. of Chieti, 1570, fols. 99 r-100 v
6 1571 Angelucci Giuseppe Ortona Craftsmen ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1571, fols. 182 r-183 r
7 1572 de Magnis Andrea Chieti n.d. ASCH , Ciccarini G.N. of Chieti, 1572, 48 v -49 v
8 1572 di Melchiorre Chieti n.d. ASCH , Ciccarini G.N. of Chieti, 1572, 38 r-39 v
Bartolomeo
9 1573 di Giacomo Gio Maria Ortona Craftsmen ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1573, fols. 322 v -323 v
10 1573 Barba Pietro Paolo Ortona de Palma Nobles Royal ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1573, fols. 16 v -22 v
Angela Treasurer
11 1573 Valignani Francesco Castilenti de Sterlich Nobles ASCH , Perrucolo G.V. of Chieti, 1573, fols. 7r-9 r
Lavinia
12 1574 di Zaccaria Giovanni Ortona Craftsmen Baker ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1574, fols. 46 r-47 v
13 1574 di Santomarino Giacomo Ortona n.d. ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1574, fols. 83 v -85 r
14 1574 di Paoluccio Marco Chieti Laura n.d. ASCH , Delle Carceri O. of Chieti, 1574, fols. 80 r-84 v
15 1575 Rotondi Clemente Chieti Citizen ASCH , Ciccarini G.N. of Chieti, fols. 27r-28 v
16 1576 Ciamponi Francesco Chieti Sinealbis Citizen ASCH , Ciccarini G.N. of Chieti,1576, fols. 32 r-35 v
Antonio Vittoria
17 1576 di Paolantonio Corallina Chieti n.d. ASCH , Delle Carceri O. of Chieti, 1576, fols. 79 v -81r
18 1578 di Procano Giorgio Ortona Grande n.d. ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1578, fols. 56 r-58 r
Isabella
19 1579 Massimini Alessandro Ortona n.d. ASCH , Massari G. of Ortona, 1579, fols. 56 v -58 r
20 1580 Menducci Tommaso Chieti Astrologo Citizen Merchant ASCH , Lanuti G.N. of Chieti, 1580, fols. 36 r-37 v
Prudenzia
21 1582 Michelini Cesare Pescara Potenziani Nobles ASCH , Delle Carceri O. of Chieti, 1582, fols. 33 r-35 v
Felicia
22 1583 Graziani Giovanni Pescara Citizen ASCH , Delle Carceri O. of Chieti, 1583, fols. 1r-4 r
23 1584 Turri Gio Paolo Penne Citizen Merchant ASPE , De Amicis M. of Penne, 1584, fols. 37r-40 v
24 1585 di Pacentro Giovanni Ripa T. n.d. ASCH , Lizio N. of Ripa, 1585, fols. 21v -22 r
25 1586 Santese Tommaso Chieti Citizen Merchant ASCH , Sigismondi E. of Chieti, 1586, fols. 52 r-53 v
26 1588 Giufici Gio Batta Chieti Fasciolo Citizen Merchant/ ASCH , Lanuti G.N. of Chieti, 1588, fols. 28 r-30 v
Marzia Toll collector

27 1589 Lanuti Donato junior Chieti Vastavigna Nobles ASCH , Ciccarini G.N. of Chieti, 1589, fols. 63 r-69 r
Isabella
28 1589 Riva Tiberio Pescara Craftsmen Smith ASTE , Cornice A.M. of Giulianova, 1589, fols.
cc. 3 r-6 v
29 1591 Compagnese Paolo Pescara Citizen ASTE , Astolfi B. of Atri, 1591, fols. 41r-43 v
30 1591 Orsini Francesco Casale n.d. ASCH , Buragna A. of Casale, 1591, fols. 67r-68 r
31 1595 de Fabritis Tommaso Chieti Vastavigna Nobles ASCH , Corti Locali, b. 39
Giovannella
32 1598 de Podio Margherita Chieti Venere Gio Nobles ASCH , Ciani G.B. of Chieti, 1598, fols. 9 v -11v
Antonio
33 1599 Iese Alessandro Penne n.d. ASPE , Umili G.M. of Penne, 1599, fols. 12 v -14 v
34 1600 Tauldino Ottavio Chieti Valignani Nobles ASCH , Sigismondi E. of Chieti, 1600, fols. 104 r-118 v
Tarquinia
286

35 1602 Labruto Giorgio sen. Chieti Camarra Citizen ASCH , Ciani G.B. of Chieti, 1602, fols. 15 r-20 v
Lucrezia?
36 1602 del Vino Gaspare Penne Citizen ASPE , Rubeo C. of Penne, 1602, fols. 23 r-30 v
37 1604 di Bartolo Luca Vacri n.d. ASCH , Pica F.A. of Villamagna, 1604, fols. 36 r-38 v
38 1604 di Crescenzo Rocco Ortona Citizen Merchant ASCH , Marano V. of Ortona, 1604, fols. 36 r-38 r ;
1605, fols. 12 r-14 r

39 1607 Romagnolo Andreuccia Chieti n.d. ASCH , Orlandi C. of Villamagna, 1607, fols.
166 r-167r
40 1608 Dario Achille Chieti Cianti Nobles ASCH , Moscone G.C. of Carpineto, 1608, fols.
Anna 30 r-31r
41 1608 Scimia Giuseppe Ortona n.d. ASCH , De Gratiis N. of Ortona, 1608, fols. 40 v -43 r
42 1608 Castiglione Annibale Penne de Sterlich Nobles ASCH , Damiani G.B. of Penne, 1608, fols. 87r-98 r
Girolama
43 1609 Bernardi Giosuè Ortona Castiglione Nobles ASCH , De Federicis G.B. of Civitaluparella, 1609,
(?) Diana fols. 138 v-162 v

44 1609 Ciamaglia Costantino Ortona Baldonesci Craftsmen Goldsmith ASCH , Marano V. of Ortona, 1609, fols. 19 r-21r
Isabella
45 1610 Roncitello Tommaso Chieti Citizen ASCH , Nonna G.A. of Chieti, 1610, fols. 126 v -136 v
46 1610 Franchi Giuseppe Chieti Diana Citizen ASCH , Ciani G.B. of Chieti, 1610, fol. 8 r
47 1610 Zaccheo Gregorio Penne Craftsmen Goldsmith ASPE , De Magistris F.A. of Penne, 1610, fols.
13 r-15 v
48 1611 di Giovan Angelo Pianella n.d. ASCH , Gentile G. of Pianella, 1611, fols. 59 r-60 r
Giovanni
49 1612 Cotela Alessandro Chieti Citizen Merchant ASCH , Nonna G.A. of Chieti, 1612, fols. 32 r-46 r
50 1613 Stefanucci brothers Penne Nobles ASPE , De Amicis T. of Penne, 1613, fols. 58 r-63 r
51 1614 Scricchia Francesco Ortona n.d. ASCH , De Federicis G.B. of Civitaluparella, 1614,
fols. 17 v-18 v
52 1615 Perucci Gio Giacomo Ortona n.d. ASCH , De Federicis G.B. of Civitaluparella, ; 1615,
fols. 50 v-54 v
53 1619 Vascellino Gio Maria Chieti Citizen Merchant ASCH , Orlandi C. of Villamagna, 1619, fols. 10 r-28 v
54 1622 Salamone Marcantonio Chieti Miziani Citizen ASCH , Salvati S. of Chieti, 1622, fols. 38 r-41r
Caterina
55 1622 Enrici Fabio Chieti Valignani Nobles ASCH , Vascellaro M. of Chieti, 1622, cc. 47v-53r
Ippolita
56 1622 Iacobucci Francesco S.Valentino Citizen Ensign ASCH , Cicchelli M. of Manoppello, 1625, fols.
Antonio 39 r-45 v
57 1627 d’Unci Ferrante Manoppello n.d. ASCH , Regia Udienza, 7/182
58 1628 Massari Tommaso Ortona Nobles ASCH , De Federicis G.B. of Civitaluparella, 1628,
fols. 108 v-112 r

59 1630 d’Izzo Tonta Chieti n.d. ASCH , Pagliccia F. A. of Chieti, 1630, fols. 47r-49 v
60 1630 Brunoro Gio Batta Pescara Citizen Customs ASCH , Vascellaro M. of Chieti, 1630, fols. 39 r-44 v
officer
61 1633 Orlandi Cesare Chieti Sigismondi Citizen Notary ASCH , Regia Udienza, 2/60
Angela
62 1633 Filomusi Maria Atri Citizen ASCH , Regia Udienza, 2/51
Francesco
63 1635 Cotela Francesco Maria Chieti Paolucci Citizen ASCH , Nonna G.A. of Chieti, 1635, fols. 16 r-20 r
Isabella
64 1636 Pellegrini Giacomo Penne Piccinini Craftsmen ASTE , Tranquilli C. of Nereto, 1636, fols. 67 v -68 v
Lelia
65 1637 Vastavigna Francesco Chieti Tauldino Nobles ASCH , Corti locali, vol. 198, fols. 377r-388 v
Claudia
287

66 1637 Perrucolo Fabio Chieti Tribuni Citizen ASCH , Regia Udienza, 8/215
Giacoma
67 1639 Mazza Gio Antonio Chieti Moscone Citizen Merchant ASCH , Gizzi U. of Bucchianico, 1639, fols. 111r-136 r
Caterina
68 1639 Strina Francesco Chieti Stinca Citizen Lawyer ASCH , Sbarra A. of Basciano, 1639, fols. 24 r-28 v
Claudia
69 1640 Lamensa Rutilio Chieti Nobles Capitain ASCH , Nonna G.A. of Chieti, 1640, fols. 11r-13 v
70 1642 Medolaghi Francesco Penne Angelini Citizen Merchant ASTE , Tranquilli C. of Nereto, 1642, fols. 38 v -40 r
Urania
71 1644 Costa Francesco Chieti Citizen Merchant ASCH , Penna G. of Rapino, 1644, fols. 13 v -19 r
72 1645 Marano Gio Berardino Chieti Citizen ASCH , Penna G. of Rapino, 1645, fols. 24 r-27r
73 1648 Leognani Fieramosca Civitaquana Nobles ASCH , Schips M. of Castel Castagna, 1648, fols.
Cesare 6 v-22 v
74 1656 Battistone Domenico Pescara Citizen ASCH , Poccia G.A. of Chieti, 1656, fols. 16 r-18 r
75 1658 Malcotti Achille Chieti Angelucci Citizen Merchant ASCH , Schips M. of Castel Castagna, 1658, fols.
Angela 182 r-192 v

76 1659 Franchino Baldassarre Chieti Citizen Merchant ASCH , Corti locali, vol. 281, fols. 284 r-290 r
77 1661 de Belendez Gabriele Chieti Nobles Governor ASCH , Schips M. of Castel Castagna, 1661, fols.
17 v-24 v
78 1661 Valignani Ascanio Chieti Caterina Nobles ASCH , Schips M. of Castel Castagna, 1661, 79 v -81r
79 1665 Lanuti Alessandro Chieti Nobles ASCH , Corti Locali b. 110, fs. 306, fols. 14 r-21v
80 1666 Cardella Pasquale e Chieti n.d. ASCH , Poccia G.A. of Chieti, 1666, fols. 74 v -80 v
Lucenzio
81 1666 Torricella Gio Batta Vacri Nobles ASCH , Corti Locali b.110, fs. 305, fols. 4 r-12 r
82 1666 Valignani Giulio Chieti Nobles ASCH , Giufici D. of Chieti, 1666, fols. 28 r-34 v
Città
S.Angelo
83 1667 Cirillo Francesco Pescara Herrera Citizen ASCH , Giufici D. of Chieti, 1667, fols. 175 r-186 v
Caterina
84 1671 Landi Benedetto Manoppello Citizen ASCH , Poccia G.A. of Chieti, 1671, fols. 79 v -86 r
85 1673 Fossina Maria Chieti Di Nocco ASCH , Schips M. of Castel Castagna,
86 1676 Ferada Donato Chieti Craftsmen Stucco ASCH , Schips M. of Castel Castagna, 1676, fols.
worker 97 v-99 v
87 1677 Ferrari Lucrezia Chieti Uttini Citizen ASCH , Mattucci G. of Civitella, 1677, fols. 77 v -80 r
Felice
mastro
88 1679 Eppis Giuseppe Chieti Passaro Citizen Merchant ASCH , Franchi T. sen. of Chieti, 1679, fols.
Angela 316 r-325 r

89 1681 Gelmi Rocco Chieti Carignone Citizen Merchant ASCH , Franchi T. sen. of Chieti, 1681, fols. 10 r-41r
Leandra
90 1682 Deletto Filippo Chieti Lucini Nobles Judge ASCH , Franchi T. sen. of Chieti, 1682, fols.
Guzman 222 r-227 v

Gregoria
91 1685 Michelini Francesco rev. Chieti Nobles Abbot ASCH , Franchi T. sen. of Chieti, 1685, fols.
420 v-427 v
92 1690 Brigante Nicola Chieti Citizen ASCH , Mattucci G. of Civitella, 1690, fols. 72 v -77 v
93 1704 Toppi Francesco Chieti Nobles Abbot ASCH , Pierini G. of Chieti, 1704, fols. 90 r-98 v
Spoltore
94 1705 Tofani Gio Lorenzo Tocco Cuferari Citizen ASCH , Stasi A. of Musellaro, 1705, fols. 37 v -48 r
Antonia
table 1 – List of the 94 probate inventories. Abreviations: asch, State Archive of Chieti; aste, State
Archive of Teramo; aspe, State Archive of Pescara (V. Verrocchio).
288

TABLE
Food Metal Pottery Stone Wood
‘Acquacotta’ Jar / Giara Pot/ Coccomo
Bread Basket/ Paniere
Fruit Fruit dish/ Fruttiera
Pepper Pepper pot/ Peparola
Salt Salt / Saliera Salt / Saliera Salt /Saliera
Sauces Sauce boat / Salsiera
Syrups Mug / Bicchiere
Vinegar Little pot / Vasetto Little pot / Vasetto
Water Jug, flask / Boccale, fiasca Jug, pitcher, jar, pot
Boccale, brocca, giara, vaso
Wine Flask / Fiasco Jug, pitcher / Boccale, trufolo
KITCHEN / STORAGE
Food Metal Pottery Stone Wood
‘Acquacotta’ Pot / Coccomo
Bread Caludron / Caldaia
Cheese Cauldron, pot, cheese grater, cheese Pot / Orna
warmer /
Caldaia, caccavo, grattacacio,
scaldacacio
Chestnuts Pan / Padella
Fish Spoon, fryng pan, grill /
Cucchiaio, fersora, graticola
Honey Vase / Quartara, vaso
Lard Pot / Pignata
Lent eating Little bowl / Concarella
Macaroni Spoon, macaroni maker /
Cucchiaio, maccaronaro
Mustard Pass / Passatoio
Must boiled Caldaia, cucchiaio, maniere, misura / Pot, vase / Olla, vaso
Cauldron, spoon, measure pot
Olives Pot / Lancella, olla, quartara
Olive oil Spoon, measure pot, pot, pitcher, vase / Pot / Pila Pot / Orna
Cucchiaio, misura, olla, orcio, pila, quartara,
tragno, trufolo, vaso
Pizza Pan / Tiella
Pumpkin jam Vase / Vaso
Raisin Pot / Quartara
Salt Pot / Quartara
Spices Little vase / Vasetto
Sugared almonds Vase / Vaso
Wafers Iron tool / Ferro
Water Cauldron, bowl, pan, large pot / Caldaia, Pot / Olla, quartara
conca, fersora, tragno
table 2 – List of food products and related vessels made in different materials (V. Verrocchio).
289

* * *
A journey of taste:
Eastern coffee and western coffee cups
in Turkey
Filiz Yenişehirlioğlu
i n t roduct ion
The Mediterranean has always been a geographical area where different natural prod-
ucts, once introduced, would be assimilated in a short time and becoming, hereafter,
a characteristic product of the Mediterranean, circulating from there to other parts of
the world. Grapes and tulips came from the East and tomatoes from the West. Once
coffee arrived from Yemen to the Middle East in the 16th century, it was, not the natu-
ral product itself, but its consumption that became part of the eastern Mediterranean
from where a journey of new taste spread towards the West. This paper explores this
journey of taste, from the Middle East and the Ottoman Empire to Europe from the
16th century; it follows the shapes of coffee cups, with a brief overview of the encoun-
ters of European and Ottoman coffee cup production, that changed according to taste
and to consumption habits.
In the perspective of orientalist, 19th-century ideas about culture in the Near East
everyday commodities in the Ottoman Empire, and the lifestyles that accompanied
them, were onsidered to be unchangeable and constant entities. This attitude is also
seen today in the contemporary touristic and historicist appreciation of the holistic
concept of coffee drinking. At the same time, it coined the term ‘Turkish Coffee’,
which is much disputed in certain post-Ottoman nation states. This holistic approach
makes one feel as if coffee has always been cooked in a cezve (a small long handed metal
pot), and as if coffee has always been drunk in a fincan (a small cup with a handle) that
was often accompanied with a saucer, on which one would reverse the cup to read one’s
fortune (Figs. 1a-b and 7a-b).1
291
FHG

Unlike the popularity of coffee rituals, it has to be admitted that more compre-
hensive and interpretative publications on this subject as a cultural phenomenon are
needed, as well as its economic, social and cultural implications in the Ottoman Em-
pire. Until now, some recent exhibitions and a new interest in the history of food and
drinks have led to important publications, which will pave the way to further de-
tailed studies in the future.2 In addition, there are various contemporary publications
looking at Ottoman literature, Ottoman popular culture and other sources related to
coffee and coffee drinking.3
However, there are still some aspects that are not being considered. Firstly, the
architectural history of coffee-shops has not yet been studied, although these were
recorded in 17th century foundation deeds (vakfiye) of certain architectural complexes
and registered, as such, in 19th century ‘Year Books’ (Salname). Secondly, archaeologi-
cal discoveries of Ottoman coffee cups and relevant finds from before the 18th century
were not sufficiently described until now. Thirdly, there has been little research carried
out on the development of coffee cups typologically through time or according to
different areas of the Ottoman Empire.
So, this paper will not only attempt to answer the afore mentioned questions re-
garding coffee and coffee drinking in Ottoman times, but will also try to show the ap-
proximate distribution of its enjoyment from Eastern to Western countries as well as
the typological development of coffee cup shapes that accompany this journey of taste.
cof f e e i n ista n bu l
We know from written records that coffee arrived at Istanbul in the 16th century, af-
ter Damascus became part of the Ottoman World in 1516, and that coffee was sold in
Istanbul around 1554 when the first coffee shop was opened by two men: Hakem from
Aleppo and Şems from Damascus.4 Thus, coffee was probably drunk in many parts of
the Ottoman Empire before finally arriving at İstanbul. The 17th century Ottoman
historian Peçevi, whose historical book covers the period from 1520 to 1640, notes that
few ordinary people frequented these coffee houses; they were, rather, visited by poets,
writers and scholars, who had intellectual discussions whilst coffee drinking.5
It was, of course, men who frequented the coffee houses in Istanbul. Coffee was
further consumed in hans, that is to say buildings, that housed the shops of craftsmen
and merchants. This being said, there is no accurate date for the start of coffee con-
sumption in these places, and archaeological evidence is scarce concerning 16th- and
early 17th century finds of coffee cups from these buildings. It is, however, generally
accepted that the custom of coffee drinking had become popular by this time. Re-
ligious discussions concerning the use of coffee, as well as the restriction of Sultan
292

y e n i şe h i r l io ğ lu – a jou r n e y of ta s t e
Murat iv (1612-1640) to close coffee houses, were only temporary actions which in-
hibited the diffusion of this activity.6 Both the archaeological finds and the increase
in production of coffee cups during the 18th century, suggest the growing use of this
product in public life.
ot tom a n cof f e e cu ps (16t h-17 t h ce n t u ry)
Our knowledge of Ottoman coffee cups and their production originates from differ-
ent sources. These include historical texts, travellers’ accounts, miniatures and engrav-
ings, archaeological excavations and museums or private collections. Since coffee cups
were mainly produced manually until the end of the Ottoman Empire (1923),7 factory
design catalogues do not exist as seen in European centres of industrial production.8
Our first representation of an Ottoman coffee house comes from a miniature painting
from the end of the 16th century, conserved at Chester Beatty Library in Dublin (Figs.
1a-b). When looking at this miniature, it is evident that the coffee was served in small
cups without handles and without saucers. Similar small cups were also depicted in
other miniature paintings of the 17th century (Fig. 2). Coffee was not cooked individ-
ually in a cezve (like Turkish coffee today) but in an ewer, and then served in a small
cup. This service is also depicted in European travellers’ accounts.
Archaeological finds of coffee cups dating from the 16th and 17th centuries are ex-
tremely rare in Turkey.9 A few examples were excavated in Iznik during the 1981-88 ex-
cavation campaign by a team from Istanbul University, and they are in a similar form
of small cup alike those represented in 16th century miniature paintings (Figs. 1a-b,
2 and 3). Different types of tablewares, as well as tiles, have been the main items pro-
duced in Iznik, and the excavations have revealed large quantities of sherds of which
only a couple can be specifically identified as coffee cups. Iznik was the main centre
of ceramic production in the Ottoman Empire from the 14th to the end of the 17th
century. Afterwards, the city of Kütahya took over the main production in the 18th
century and replaced the famous Iznik production, though not of the same quality as
Iznik Ware.10
Written documents, such as lists of goods recorded in late 16th century inheritance
registers of Ottoman citizens, mention the existence of Iznik coffee cups together with
Chinese ones.11 However, this information does not directly match with the archae-
ological evidence. Written sources suggest the imported Chinese Porcelain cups in
Iznik, which was itself a production centre of cups, but both types were, until now,
never found together in excavated contexts within the city. On the other hand, we
know that Chinese Porcelain was popular in the Ottoman Empire (Figs. 11a-b).12 It is,
therefore, fair to say that small blue-and-white bowls (kase) from China, as we often
293

distinguish them in miniature paintings, were the prototypes of the Ottoman coffee
cups ( fincan) from Turkey (Figs. 4a-b).
The pictorial and archaeological evidence suggests that, in the 16th century, coffee
was served in small bowls of 9-10 cm wide, as is shown in Ottoman miniature paint-
ings (Figs. 1a-b and 2). These coffee cups were re-baptized as fincan, a word of Persian
origin. According to the 17thcentury Ottoman traveller Evliya Çelebi, these recipi-
ents were not only used for the drinking of coffee, but also for other types of popular
drinks like şerbet (made from fruit juice) and boza (made from chickpea). Since coffee
was introduced in the mid-16th century, it probably needed some time before it be-
come popular. Consequently, instead of creating a new recipient to drink coffee from,
it was preferred to use an already existing form.
Unlike the Ottoman tobacco pipes, which are omnipresent on almost every ex-
cavated site in the eastern Mediterranean and the Near East, the lack of coffee cups
on sites might suggest that coffee was probably drank only in coffee shops and/or by
the male population during Early Ottoman times. The commercial hans, which the
Yeniçeri (janiseries) frequented, were places where coffee was consumed in large quan-
tities. Coffee drinking, therefore, seems to still have been limited to a certain group
within the population. Another fact that supports this suggestion is the number of
coffee cups bought for the Royal Kitchen in the Topkapı Palace. At the beginning of
the 17th century (in 1617), 6331 pottery vessels were bought for the kitchen and only 40
of them were coffee cups. However, this number had risen by 1630 to 230 cups showing
that the number of palace members, allowed to drink coffee, had increased.13
We know that the largest number of inhabitants in the Harem (women quarters)
of the Topkapı Palace was in the 17th century, so this suggests that women in the
Harem would have, by this point, started to consume coffee as well. European en-
gravings showing imaginary scenes of the Harem do indeed depict coffee cups in the
hands of Harem women – and this time in combination with saucers.14 Contempo-
rary miniature paintings also show the palace pages holding coffee cups with saucers.15
Thus, one can suggest that the saucer has probably started to pair with the coffee cup
approximately around this time. Despite the male consumption of coffee at coffee
shops, where one could easily place the cup on a low table, it was easier for women to
hold the cup with a saucer as they would sit on the sedir (the sofa) placed around the
rooms and chat.
Evliya Çelebi, the 17th century Turkish traveller, gives information on shops that
sell cups and on craftsmen that repair the broken ones.16 The latter suggests that coffee
cups were not yet abundant and still expensive in Istanbul.17 In fact, Ottoman price
registers of the 1640s, determined by the Kadı, gave different prices for different coffee
cups varying in decoration (with gold or with simple design).18
294

ot tom a n cof f e e cu ps (18t h-20t h ce n t u ry)
The numbers of coffee cups, which were manufactured after the 17th century, increase
enormously both in land and underwater archaeological excavations. These cups were
mostly made in Kütahya (Figs. 5, 10a-f and 13a-c). This production differed from Iznik
Ware in the quality of paste and ornamentation. The Kütahya cups were signed by
the name of the ceramist, since they were paid by the number. An important archival
document, the first written contract of the coffee cup producers guild, dating from
1766, can be found in the Kütahya Museum; it shows the regulation of the prices to be
paid to each coffee-cup producer according to his professional rank.19
The Kütahya coffee cups are generally 6-8 cm. wide, have a depth of 3 cm and a
height of 4 cm. (Fig. 5). Their manufacture is not always of the best quality, suggesting
that there was mass production of such cups (Figs. 10a-e). One can see influences from
both Chinese bowls and European ceramics in their painted motifs. This process will
be discussed further below.
Two new items can be noticed in the Kütahya production: firstly, the saucer, which
was already depicted in miniature paintings from the end of the 17th century, became
abundant in this period (Figs. 7a-b); and secondly, the introduction of an alternative
holder for the cups, called a zarf (Fig. 15). In fact, the saucer was not the only medium
to hold the cup. A zarf could be produced in various common and/or precious metals,
as well as being made in ceramic (Figs. 16, 17).20 It is possible that the zarf began to
be used in the 18th century since we have no archaeological or visual documentation
evidence before that period. Together with the use of a saucer, the coffee cups became
smaller and received a handle, the latter due to European influence.21 In fact, the addi-
tion of a handle to the coffee cup was introduced by the Meissen factory in Germany
for the first time in the 18th century (Fig. 9).22
Examples of coffee cups with handles were unusual at the beginning of the 18th
century in Kütahya production, although one rare example can be found at the Sad-
berk Hanım Museum in Istanbul. This type of coffee cup (with an added painted yel-
low colour) was introduced to the Kütahya pottery repertoire due to the influence of
European Italian production; this contemporarily corresponded with the aesthetical
perception of the colour yellow coming from Chinese Porcelain. These cups were of a
better quality than the mass-produced Kütahya coffee cups (Figs. 6, 8 and 9).
The Kütahya production of coffee cups seems to have dominated the lands within the
Ottoman Empire from the 18th century onwards. Excavations in the Balkans and in
the Middle Eastern provinces of the Empire reveal the abundant use of Kütahya coffee
cups.23 A shipwreck discovered near Marseille also contained Kütahya coffee-cups.24
295

These could have been used on the boat itself, but from an archival source (dated
1660), we know that 9000 kilos of raw coffee were unloaded from a ship in Marseille
by 1700 Ottoman galley slaves. This suggests one of the ways of how coffee, and coffee
cups, could have been distributed from one Mediterranean port to another.25
eu rope a n d cof f e e
Coffee and coffee drinking were introduced into European countries in miscellane-
ous periods from the 17th century onwards. The way coffee consumption travelled to
the various countries, such as Austria or France, is different from one to another. It is
generally accepted that the second Ottoman Siege of Vienna in 1639 was influential
for the introduction of coffee to this country.26Janissaries and their coffee drinking
habits were probably vital in this expansion.
Aside from Austria, which was one of the European frontier countries facing the
Ottoman expansion, Venice was the place for first-hand information about all the
events in the Empire. Italian merchants had close ties and networks with professional
partners in various large cities within the Ottoman Empire, and consequently coffee
shops opened in Venice around 1645. Venetian merchants were probably efficient in
transferring this drink, and its rituals, to other parts of Europe, just as they were influ-
ential in the distribution of other commodities coming from Ottoman lands.27
As we have seen above, Marseille was another significant Mediterranean port city,
where a cosmopolitan population with varying lifestyles existed, not unlike most har-
bour towns. The first coffee shop was opened here in 1644 by an Armenian, and soon
became an important meeting place for sailors.28
One should also not underestimate the role of foreign missions. For example, the
Turkish Ambassador to Paris, Süleyman Ağa, introduced coffee drinking to Parisian
society in 1669.29 Coffee was also consumed by the French Consul in Larnaca (Cy-
prus) in 1692, and one can find different types of coffee cups, pots and trays confis-
cated from his consulate.30 For coffee exported to France, the consul had to pay the
custom tax accordingly.31
In addition, travellers’ accounts are important for noticing the introduction of
this new beverage to Europe. Jean Thévenot published his travel book Relation d’un
voyage fait au Levant in 1665, in which he gave detailed explanations of how coffee was
brewed and served as well as how it tasted: ‘This beverage is dark black and bitter and
smells burnt. It is served very hot therefore one has to sip it in small amounts.’32 Polish
travellers to the Ottoman Empire in the 19th century, also gave detailed accounts of
coffee drinking and coffee shops. The taste and the way it was served did not please
them. Back in Poland, they would have drank coffee since the second half of the 17th
296

century from large cups with sugar, whereas they noticed that in Istanbul coffee was
drunk black, without sugar and from small cups.33
Marcy Norton in her article asks ‘When and how do societies assimilate foreign
things?34 In the context of growing globalization in Early Modern times, her question
has engaged other scholars working in three historiographical traditions: the history
of imperial expansion, of colonialism and of consumerism and food. Coffee only be-
came a popular beverage in Europe after the 18th century. Norton argues that it was
chocolate that arrived first in Europe, and probably paved the way in taste for the
assimilation of coffee. Because chocolate was considered bitter when it arrived, the
Europeans added sugar and vanilla to bring it to their palettes.35 Tea and coffee were
introduced later, almost at the same time, in Europe.
In the end many factors were influential in the diffusion of coffee and its consump-
tion. Behaviour and cultural patterns of different social groups, and their movements
from one country to another, helped in coffee’s journey of taste between East and West.
Among these groups were European colonists in South America who had learned to eat
and drink chocolate, traders with China who introduced tea, as well as military cam-
paigns; sailors, slaves, foreign missions and travellers were all influential in the intro-
duction of coffee to Europe. Social encounters that accompanied coffee drinking, must
also have been a significant factor in its dissemination in urban daily life. Interestingly,
one of the rare secular Cantata’s, composed by Johann Sebastian Bach (1734/1735) in
Leipzig, was on coffee (Schweigt Stille, Plaundert Nicht – bwv, 211).36
eu rope a n product ion of cof f e e cu ps
It seems that during the late 17th and early 18th centuries, chocolate, tea and coffee
were all consumed in Europe in similar cups with a lid, which had no separate shapes
for each individual beverage. As both chocolate and coffee were by then considered
too bitter by the Europeans, they added not only sugar but also vanilla and milk to
these beverages. As a result of this, Europeans needed larger cups. It is now generally
accepted that it was the Meissen factory in Germany that invented the cup with han-
dles in the mid-18th century.37
In the lands of the Ottoman Empire, one started to drink coffee after breakfast (in
fact the word kahvaltı in Turkish comes from kahve altı – ‘something to eat before you
have your coffee’) or even before breakfast, a custom that still continues in Modern
Turkey and Greece. Drinking coffee continued all day long in various occasions: at
home, while visiting a friend, at coffee shops, while shopping, in bath houses etc. Since
it was stronger, and without addition of vanilla or milk, the cups were much smaller
than the European ones.
297

George Miller discusses the terminology of cup shapes in the United Kingdom
according to potters, merchants and collectors. He mostly uses the invoices, given by
the potter and the merchant in the 19th century, for products exported to the United
States.38 Miller argues that there was no difference in the names of the cups and that
they were not differentiated as tea or coffee cups. Their sizes were registered with pure-
ly local names, such as ‘London size’ or ‘Holland Size’, and they were always marked
‘by the dozen’.39
From the mid-18th century onwards, French production centres like Sèvres, Saint-
Cloud and Vincennes started to produce cups in different dimensions. At the end
of the century, cups for tea, coffee and chocolate had indeed different shapes: firstly,
coffee cups became more cylindrical, but the diameter and the length remained the
same; secondly, chocolate cups were larger and had handles on each side and thirdly,
tea cups became a little bit more open. With the introduction of hard-paste porcelain
production in Limoges and in other French manufacture centres, the ornamentation
on these cups became more elaborate and fantastic.40
The production of the German Meissen factory seems to have dominated the manu-
facturing market of coffee cups for the Ottoman Empire. In fact, Manasses Athanos,
an Ottoman merchant, ordered 2000 coffee cups without handles in 1732, and in 1734
he ordered another 3000 coffee cups at the Meissen factory (Figs. 12a-b).41 Such objects
were first used at the Topkapı Palace and in houses of members of high administrative
and wealthy classes. Soon this production was copied by the Kütahya potters to the
extent that they even imitated the Meissen characteristic production sign of double
cross swords (Figs. 12a-b and 13a-c). The shape of the chocolate cup, introduced by
Meissen, was copied as a form of coffee cup by the Kütahya potters in the 18th century
(Figs. 7b and 8). This form, however, did not become very popular, as is suggested by
the fact that it is mostly found in museum collections but not often in archaeological
excavations.
European porcelain coffee cups that are conserved in the Topkapı Palace collec-
tions in Istanbul reveal two types: European types of coffee cups and traditional
Ottoman shapes of coffee cups produced by European porcelain factories specifically
for the Ottoman market. Thus, the distinction is clear-cut. Meissen produced either
European-style cups ornamented with colourful flowers (Figs. 8, 9 and 17), or imi-
tations of small blue-and-white Porcelain cups from China (Figs. 12a-b and 14a-b).
Since Kütahya potters imitated the Meissen products, they also made coffee cups im-
itating this already copied production (Figs. 13a-c). On the other hand, direct imports
from China to Turkey also clearly influenced the design patterns in Kütahya(Figs.
4a-b and 11a-b).42
298

conclusion
Production of ceramics and textiles easily moves between regions, and is a primary
example of a transcultural and trans-regional form of material culture, one which was
assimilated and reinvented by different groups with various backgrounds. Free mar-
ket options supported this proces, but one should not disregard the attraction of new
objects which in the eyes of the consumers were colourful, out of the ordinary or even
exotic.
Although the Ottoman traveller Evliya Celebi would describe things and events
that he ‘could not describe’ as acaip and garib (‘bizarre’ and ‘mysterious’), human re-
actions can also develop over time. This includes taste. Coffee travelled from East to
West and since the 18th century it evolved into a common beverage all over the world.
In the wake of its succes, potters and designers created new shapes combined with local
ornamentation to attract consumers. This is a phenomenon that still continues today.
The small Porcelain cups, imported from China to the Ottoman Empire and to
Europe, were the prototypes of the coffee cups used from the 16th century onwards
to drink coffee in Ottoman lands and tea in European countries. In the Ottoman
Empire, the cups shrank in size during the 17th century, and became even smaller dur-
ing the 18th and 19th centuries. Following the European style, a saucer and a handle
were added to these cups. This was indeed the European trend of coffee drinking. The
commercial agreements in the 19th century between the European countries and the
Ottoman Empire increased the import of coffee cups, called bon pour l’Orient, that
were produced for the Ottoman market. In the traditional way of drinking, however,
people continued to use the cup without a handle and placed their cup in a zarf rather
than on a saucer. The richly decorated zarf types also displayed social status.
In this way taste travelled from one region to another, but retained its own character-
istic features according to the cultural background of the country in which it was intro-
duced. Drinking coffee in large cups with milk, for example, has never been appreciated
by the Ottomans. Sipping coffee from small cups, several times a day, was not only an act
to socialise, but also to give oneself a small pause of pleasure from daily work.
Cultural research on behaviour has still a long way to go in studying encounters
concerning taste in different countries. The sensibilities of individuals, and their taste
formation according to their social status, is another issue that needs to be studied.
For instance, coffee drinking seemed to have to transgress gender issues in the Otto-
man Empire rather quickly: its consumption moved gradually from the public sphere
of coffee houses for men to domestic life dominated by the presence of women. Such
transformations in social life also had an effect on the shapes of coffee cups, an issue
that needs to be studied further in the future.
299

not es
1 This paper is partially based on another productions and examples of coffee

paper published in Turkish by the author: cups from these factories have not
see Yenişehirlioğlu 2012. been identified as such. An important
2 Açıkgöz 1999; Yaşar 2009; Işın 2011. Naskali production was at the Royal Yıldız
2011a.The variety of subjects researched in Porcelain factory (Yıldız Çini Fabrika-i
this book give a general understanding of Hümayunu), which was founded in 1902
coffee and its uses in the Ottoman Empire. during the reign of Sultan Abdülhamid ii
Some of the articles from this book are (1842-1918). This last factory continued to
re-published with beautifully coloured function until 1920, and reopened again
photographs in Naskali 2011b. A more during the Republican period in 1945.
recent study is the book that accompanied 8 The Yıldız Porcelain Factory was founded
a vast exhibition at the Topkapı Palace; see in 1902 within the Yıldız Palace by experts
Pekin 2015. coming from the Sèvres Porcelain factory
3 E.g., Baram 1999; Vroom 1996; idem 2000; in France, but unfortunately no designs
idem 2003, 335-57; idem 2007; Bouzigard catalogues (if these ever existed) were
2010; Gelichi and Sabbionesi 2014; Gelichi conserved from this production. See
2015, fig. 20. for more information on this factory,
4 Işın 1994, 386-92. Küçükerman 1987.
5 Işın 1994; Hattox 1998. As a comparison, 9 For practical reasons I limit myself in this
there are some good studies on the paper to Turkey as it is hard to track down
consumption of coffee and tea in the Low the situation in countries like Yemen, Cairo
Countries. For instance, coffee items in and Syria, where coffee was consumed before
Dutch probate inventories were rare in the the 16th century.
late 17th century. The popularity rose ca. 10 Kürkman 2005.
1750, when all social strata drank coffee 11 Atasoy and Raby 1989.
and tea. The distribution of coffee occurred 12 Vroom 2011; idem 2015.
from town to town, from coffeehouse to 13 Bilgin 2004.
coffeehouse; cf. Voskuil 1988; Dibbits 2001, 14 Cornelius de Bruyn 1710: http://gallica.
158. bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b23007623.
6 The involvement of the yeniçeri, the r=Corneille%20le%20Brun%2C%20
janissaries, in the coffee trade could be one of Voyage%20au%20Levant?rk=21459;2.
the reasons for this softening. 15 Topkapı Palace Museum Library, inv.
7 Industrial production of pottery in no.H.2164,fol.12a; see Atasoy and Raby
Istanbul had its examples in productions 1989, 37.
as Eser-I İstanbul or Beykoz after the mid 16 This is an interesting point concerning
19th century. But these were small scale craftsmanship. Evliya Çelebi does not give
300

information on what type of coffee cups 27 Jardine 1996.

were repaired, but we can suggest that 28 Öney Tan 2015, 14-21.
probably the expansive and elaborate ones 29 Nakipoglu Yılmaz 2011, 589-98.
worth repairing were brought to these 30 Özkul 2011, 227-87.
craftsmen. The price registers of 1640 31 Özkul 2011.
concerning the official prices given to goods 32 Thévenot 2009, vol. 1.
on the market and especially to those coming 33 Filipowska 2011, 209-25.
from outside of İstanbul mention the price 34 Norton 2006, 660-91.
of Chinese Porcelain vessels that have cracks. 35 In the Netherlands, drinking chocolate
This information suggests that they could be was not very popular after its immediate
repaired after being bought by the client. introduction, whereas drinking tea and
17 Çelebi 1999-2003, vol. 10, 327. coffee was more common. The beverage
18 Kütükoğlu 1983. chocolate was first considered as food, as
19 Kürkman 2005. it was very fat. Only after 1828, after the
20 A zarf is a holder made of metal or ceramic invention and introduction of cacao powder
having the same form as the cup, but a bit in the Van Houten factory by Casparus
larger allowing the cup to be placed inside. van Houten sr. (1770-1858) and Coenraad
21 While drinking coffee was an Eastern habit, Johannes van Houten (1801-1887), chocolate
the invention of a cup with saucer was a became more popular and even exported
western invention; see Dibbits 2001, 161. to England, France and Germany; see Laan
22 Hard paste Porcelain was produced in 2003, 192.
Germany by the Meissen factory in 1720. Its 36 Baydar 2011, 551-68.
production was much appreciated by the 37 Heugel and Sarramon 2009.
Ottoman Palace as well as by members of the 38 Miller 2011; see http://www.jefpat.org/
high administrative classes in the Ottoman diagnostic/index.htm.
Empire. 39 Miller 2011; see http://www.jefpat.org/
23 Heise 2001, 32. diagnostic/index.htm.
24 Amouric, Richez and Vallauri, 1999. 40 Heugel and Sarramon2009, 169-70.
25 Heise 2001, 32. 41 Tufan 2015, 230-31.
26 Yılmaz 2011. 42 Crowe 2006-2007.
301

bi bl iogr a ph y
Açıkgöz, N. 1999. Kahvename, Ankara.

Amouric, H., F. Richez and L. Vallauri 1999. Vingt mille pots sous les mers; le commerce
de la céramique en Provence et Languedoc, xe-xixe s., Paris.
Atasoy, N. and J. Raby 1989. Iznik, Istanbul.
Baydar, K.E. 2011. Johann Sebastian Bach’ın Kahve Kantatı’nda Osmanlı İzleri (Ot-
toman Traces in the Coffee Cantata of Johann Sebastian Bach), in: E.G. Naskalı
(ed.), Türk Kahvesi Kitabı (The Book of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul, 551-68.
Baram, U. 1999. Clay tabacco pipes and coffee cup sherds in the archaeology of the
Middle East: Artifacts of social tensions from the Ottoman Past, International
Journal of Historical Archaeology 3, 137-51.
Bilgin, A. 2004. Osmanlı Saray Mutfağı( 1453-1650), Istanbul.
Bouzigard, C.A. 2010. Archeological Evidence for the Consumption of Tobacco and
Coffee in Ottoman Arabia, unpublished MA Thesis, University of East Carolina,
Department of Anthropology.
Bruyn, C. de 1714. Voyage au Levant, Paris.
Çelebi, E. b. Derviş Mehmed Zılli 1999-2003. Evliya Çelebi Seyahatnâmesi, Vols. 1-10,
Istanbul.
Crowe, Y. 2006-2007. Kütahya patterns: Out of the blue?, Transactions of Oriental
Ceramic Society 71, 1-8.
Dibbits, H. 2001. Vertrouwd bezit. Materiële cultuur in Doesburg en Maassluis, 1650-
1800, Nijmegen.
Filipowska, S. 2011. 19.Yüzyıl Polonyalı Gezginlerin Hatıralarında Türk Kahve-
si’(Turkish Coffee in the memories of Polish Travelers in the 19th century), in: E.G.
Naskalı (ed.), Türk Kahvesi Kitabı (The Book of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul, 209-25.
Gelichi, S. and L. Sabbionesi 2014. Bere e Fumare ai Confini Dell’ Impero, Caffè e
tabacco a Stari Bar nel periodo ottoman, Florence.
Gelichi, S. 2015. ‘A ciascuno il suo’: Pottery and social contexts in a Montenegrin town,
in: J. Vroom (ed.), Medieval and Post-Medieval Ceramics in the Eastern Mediterra-
nean – Fact and Fiction, Medieval and Post-Medieval Mediterranean Archaeology
series vol. 1, Turnhout, 155-72.
Hattox, S.R. 1998. Kahve ve Kahvehaneler (Coffee and Coffee Shops), Istanbul.
Heise, U. 2001. Kahve ve Kahvehane (Coffee and Coffee Shops), Ankara.
Heugel, I. and C. Sarramon 2009. La passion des arts de la table, Paris.
Işın, E. 1994. Kahvehaneler, in: Dünden Bugüne İstanbul Ansiklopedisi, vol. 4, Istan-
bul, 386-92.
Işın, E. 2011. İstanbul’ da Gündelik Hayat, Istanbul.
302

Jardine, J. 1996. Wordly Goods: A New History of the Renaissance, New York & London.
Küçükerman, Ö. 1987. Yıldız Çini Fabrikası (Yıldız Ceramic Factory), Ankara.
Kürkman, G. 2005. Toprak, Ateş, Sır – Tarihsel Gelişimi. Atölyeleri ve Ustalarıyla
Kütahya Çini ve Seramikleri (Magic of Clay and Fire), Istanbul.
Kütükoğlu, S.M. 1983. Osmanlılarda Narh Müessesesi ve 1640 Tarihli Narh Defteri
(The Book of Prices), Istanbul.
Laan, C. 2003. Drank & Drinkgerei. Een archeologisch en cultuurhistorisch onderzoek
naar de alledaagse drinkcultuur van de 18de-eeuwse Hollanders, Amsterdam.
Miller, G.L. 2011. Common Staffordshire Cup and Bowl Shapes. http://www.jefpat.
org/diagnostic/index.htm (date last checked 12/09/2011).
Nakipoglu, Y.M. 2011. Kahvenin Avrupa Kültürüne Etkisi (The influence of coffee
to European Culture), in: E.G. Naskali (ed.), Türk Kahvesi Kitabı (The Book of
Turkish Coffee), Istanbul, 589-98.
Naskali, E.G. (ed.) 2011a. Türk Kahvesi Kitabı (The Book of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul.
Naskali, E.G. (ed.) 2011b. Kahve, Kırk Yıllık Hatırın Kitabı (Coffee, the Book of Re-
membrance of Forty Years), Istanbul.
Norton, M. 2006. Tasting Empire: Chocolate and the European internalization of
Mesoamerican aesthetics, The American Historical Review 3, 660-91.
Öney, T.A. 2015. Kahve Kronolojisi (Chronology of Coffee), in: E. Pekin (ed.), Bir
Taşım Keyif, Türk Kahvesinin 500 Yıllık Öyküsü (A Sip of Taste, 500 Years of the
History of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul, 14-21.
Özkul, A.E. 2011. Osmanlı İdaresinde Kıbrıs’ta Kahve ve kahvehaneler (Coffee and
Coffee shops in Cyprus under Ottoman rule), in: E.G. Naskali (ed.), Türk Kahvesi
Kitabı (The Book of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul, 227-87.
Pekin, E. 2015 (ed.). Bir Taşım Keyif, Türk Kahvesinin 500 Yıllık Öyküsü (A Sip of
Taste, 500 Years of the History of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul.
Thévenot, J. 2009. Thévenot Seyahatnamesi, Vol. 1, Istanbul (translated by Stefanos
Yerasimos).
Tufan, Ö. 2015. Topkapı Sarayı ve Hareminde Kahve (Topkapı Palace and Coffee at
the Harem), in: E. Pekin (ed.) Bir Taşım Keyif, Türk Kahvesinin 500 Yıllık Öyküsü
(A Sip of Taste, 500 Years of the History of Turkish Coffee), Istanbul, 230-31.
Voskuil, J.J. 1988. De verspreiding van koffie en thee in Nederland, Volkskundig Bul-
letin 14, 68-93.
Vroom, J. 1996. Coffee and archaeology: A note on a Kütahya Ware find in Boeotia,
Greece, Pharos 4, 5-19.
Vroom, J. 2000. Byzantine garlic and Turkish delight: Dining habits and cultural
change in Central Greece from Byzantine to Ottoman times, Archaeological Dia-
logues 7, 199-216.
303

Vroom, J. 2007. Kütahya between the lines: Post-Medieval ceramics as historical in-
formation, in: S. Davies and J. Davis (eds.), Between Venice and Istanbul. Colonial
Landscapes in Early Modern Greece, Hesperia Supplement 40, Princeton, (nj), 71-93.
Vroom, J. 2011, ‘Mr. Turkey goes to Turkey’, Or: How an eighteenth-century Dutch
diplomat lunched at Topkapι Palace, Princeton Papers. Interdisciplinary Journal of
Middle Eastern Studies 16, 139-75.
Vroom, J. 2015. Cornelis Calkoen Türkiye’de: Bir 18. Yüzyıl Felemenk Diplomatının
Topkapı Sarayı’ndaki Öǧle Yemeǧi, in: A. Singer (ed.), Haydi Sofraya! Mutfak
Penceresinden Osmanlı Tarihi, Istanbul, 141-75 (translated by P. Tünaydın).
Yaşar, A. (ed.) 2009. Osmanlı Kahvehaneleri: Mekan, Sosyalleşme, İktidar (Ottoman
Coffee Shops: Space, Socialisiaton and Power), Istanbul.
Yenişehirlioğlu, F. 2012. Fincanın İçinde ne Var? Osmanlı Döneminde Günlük
Yaşam, Sosyal Değişim ve Fincan Tipleri (What is inside your coffee-pot? Daily
Life, Social Change and Coffee-pots in the Ottoman Period), in: Yemekte Tarih
Var (Food and History), Istanbul, 91-124.
304


fig. 4a – Chinese coffee cups, late 16th and 17th century (after Pekin 2015, 363).
fig. 4b – Chinese coffee cups, 17th century (after Pekin 2015, 364).

fig. 8 – Meissen chocolate cup, 1730-1740; see www.meissen.com/en/products/chocolate-cup-and-

saucer-historical-meissen%C2%AE – fig. 9 – Meissen cup, 1730-1740; see www.meissen.com/en/
historical-pieces/cups
305

figs. 10a-f – Kütahya coffee cups, 18th century, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns
Excavations (F. Yenişehirlioğlu).
306

figs. 11a-b – Chinese Porcelain cups, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns Excavations
(F. Yenişehirlioğlu).
figs. 12a-b – Meissen Porcelain, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns Excavations
figs. 13a-c – Kütahya coffee cups with imitated Meissen sign, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ot-
toman Kilns Excavations (F. Yenişehirlioğlu).
307

figs. 14a-b – Meissen coffee cups, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns Excavations
fig. 15 – Kütahya coffee cup holders (zarf ), 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 135).
fig. 16 (left) – Chinese coffee cup holder (zarf ) (after Pekin 2015, 364). fig. 17 (right) – Meissen
coffee cup holder (zarf ) (after Pekin 2015, figs. 50-51).
308

* * *
M E D I E VA L M A S T E R C H E F
I N T HE K ITCHEN

* * *
ca rv i ng the meat a n d serv i ng the feast
*
Miniature from The Luttrell Psalter, ca. 1325-1340
Courtesy of British Museum, London, Add. Ms. 42130, fol. 207v

* * *
Blanc manger, cooking a historical recipe

made for a Tudor king
Claudia Vandepoel
i n t roduct ion
As a culinary historian, it is my daily routine to read, plan and cook different recipes
from the past.1 This can give a broad perspective on Roman and Medieval food man-
ners, as well as on the actual processes within cooking with old recipes.2 The original
recipes can indeed give essential information about their time period, and about the
ingredients which were used at that time. The question is, what were the differences
between the old versions and the more recent ones.3 Furthermore, I am intrigued to
know if modern consumers would like one specific recipe as much as it was appreci-
ated in the past.
In this chapter I will pay special attention to one particular recipe from the Mid-
dle Ages, also known in French as ‘Blanc Manger’ (or ‘white dish’, deriving from the
Old French ‘blanc mangier’).4 The recipe is not found in every cooking book;5 this
is perhaps because it takes quite a lot of work, one needs an extra person (such as a
kitchen-maid in the past) to help prepare it. This truly ‘international’ Medieval dish,
made of essentially shredded white chicken meat, is still known in today (in Turkey
it is, for instance, called ‘Tavuk Göğsü’), although it is now quite different from the
original.6 In fact, Blanc Manger (blancmange) is currently a sweet dessert, often made
with milk, cream and sugar and afterwards thickened with gelatine, corn-starch or
Irish moss (a source of carrageenan).7
Firstly, it is my aim to discuss, within this article, the recipe of Blanc Manger in
four different versions and provide a short introduction on the organisation of Medi-
eval banquets. Subsequently, the estimated ingredients and quantities of an 16th-cen-

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113488

tury Tudor recipe will be revealed. Finally, after the presentation of the ingredients,
a working method is offered on how to make the 1580’s version of Blanc Manger, fol-
lowed by a more recent variant.
The recipe from 1580 is chosen because it has, not only a link with the Arab cuisine,
but was also used during Tudor dinners with the purpose of pleasing king Henry viii
of England (1491-1547). The question is now if, and to what sense, modern consumers
still like this recipe and its taste, and whether we consider this Tudor dish in our time
to be a royal treatment as well.
t h e r eci pe i n t h r e e v e r sions
The historical recipe of Blanc Manger has basically two main components: chicken (or
a capon) and a binding agent.8 The taste is, in general, quite soft, unless one prepares a
variant of the dish which differs from the recipe of the late Middle Ages, for instance
using ground spices (such as saffron or cinnamon). One is tempted to think that the
dish was either made in the Middle Ages for the recovering of sick people, or for calm-
ing down heavily loaded stomachs.9
For the comparison of this recipe it is best to take a look at three versions, dating
from the 14th and the 16th centuries all with different interpretations of how to make
Blanc Manger.
version 1 – 135010
Wilt du machen einem blamensir,
Wie man sol machen einen blamenser. Man sol nemen zigenin milich vnd mache man-
dels ein halp phunt. einen virdunc ryses sol man stozzen zvo mele, vnd tuo daz in die
milich kalt. vnd nim eines huones brust, die sol man zeisen vnd sol die hacken dor in. vnd
ein rein smaltz sol man dor in tuon. vnd sol ez dor inne sieden. vnd gibs im genuoc vnd
nime es denne wider. vnd nim gestozzen violn vnd wirfe den dor in. vnd einen vierdunc
zuckers tuo man dor in vnd gebs hin.
Conf. Also mac man auch in der vasten machen einen blemenser von eime hechede.
This is to my knowledge the oldest version. It is a recipe of blamensir from the German
cooking manual with the title Das Buoch von guoter Spîse, also known as Würzburger
Kochbuch (ca. 1350).11 In this version, parts of the chicken have been chopped and then
cooked till tender in a freshly prepared almond milk which was, to some extent, func-
tioning as a binding agent. This made the chicken not only very smooth, but also gave
a variegated blend of soft and tender poultry with almond. Sugar had to be added as
well, because the taste needed to be sweet.12
312

va n de p oe l – bl a nc m a ng e r
version 2 – blancmanger van kip 151013

Om te maken blancmengyer, neemt ionge hoendren ende sietse al ontwee. Dan zo doet
die beenderkens wte ende stoot die hoenderen in eenen mortier al ontwe ende doet se do-
ere eenen stramijn met magheren sope ende dyt laet dan sieden een goede wile ende dair
doetmen dan inne wat bloemen deart mede bint, dan neempt men soffraen, dodren van
eyeren ende breeckt dat ontwee met wine ende goeghet dan daer al in ende latet daer met
met syeden tot dat dycke werdt, als ghijt dan recht toe stroyet me poeder, dyt dientmen
int leste.
This Dutch version is in fact the first version of Blanc Manger that I have prepared
myself some years ago. It is the recipe blancmengyer from the first printed Dutch cook-
book which was published by Thomas van der Noot (ca. 1475-ca. 1525) in Brussels in
1510.14 This version is not made with the usual almond milk, but is thickened with the
yoke of eggs. In contrast to the almond-thickened recipe types, it is covered with a lay-
er of finely ground spices in order to give more colour and taste to the mashed chicken
dish. It was not very difficult to make the recipe, but the effect was somewhat different
than I expected. Because of the soft, sweetish taste, and the very soft structure, I had
the sensation of tasting porridge. Due to the ingredients, the recipe is quite filling and
has more calories than a usual side-dish.15
version 3 – blancmange tudor style 158016

Half a chicken 20z / 50 gr fresh white breadcrumbs
30 oz/ 75 gr ground almonds
1 tbs sugar ¼ pt/ 150 ml cream
2 tbs rosewater Whites of 2 eggs
Cover the chicken with water, cover, and simmer for about 45 minutes until tender, then
drain and cool. Meanwhile mix the almonds into the cream. Pick all the chicken from the
bones, removing any gristle and skin, chop it small, grind with the almonds mixture, egg
whites, breadcrumbs and sugar, and stir over a gentle heat until thickened. When cold,
rub through a sieve, mix in the rosewater and dish in three piles on a plate.
This last version is, until now, the most intriguing variant found in the culinary lit-
erature. It is the recipe of blancmange from an English cookbook of Tudor and early
Stuart times (ca. 1580).17 This ‘white dish’ is a sweet, rosewater version and it is fla-
voured as a kind of paté. All the ingredients have been firstly very finely chopped into
small pieces, and afterwards mad even more fine with the use of a marble pestle and
mortar. After cooking, the substance has to cool down in a form/mould or, preferably,
313

in several forms/moulds of different sizes, in order to enable serving the dish cold in a
piled up style (see for a present day example, Figs. 4-5).
m e di e va l ba nqu ets
The Medieval chef-de-cuisine was a valued (generally male) individual within the staff
of imperial courts and aristocratic households.18 He was not only the head of a staff
which kept the fire, but he executed heavy tasks in the kitchen as well. A Medieval
kitchen was both a nice place (warmth, food) and a risky place (chopping tools and
knives, fire, other angry cooks) to work.
Medieval cooks gradually became more professional, preparing exquisite food for
the upper classes. Guillaume Tirel alias Taillevent (1310-1395) was, for instance, cook
for the French kings Charles v (1338-1386) and Charles vi (1368-1422). Le Viandier
(often called Le Viandier de Taillevent) was one of the earliest and best known Me-
dieval recipe collections generally accredited to him.19 One can find, in this manual,
few practical instructions but, instead, directions for the preparation of sophisticated
dishes, which needed a large budget.
The cook was also performing during Medieval feasts like a theatrical producer: he
had to be inventive, but was considered to follow the taste of his master, the King.20
Although Medieval chefs had to make a great show, they had, at the same time, to be
aware of the preparation costs and be able to reduce the costs when asked to. Thus, like
a modern cook, he had to be a good planner, organiser and performer under changing
circumstances.21
For organising a Medieval banquet many pre-arrangements were needed.22 There
had to be plenty of wood for the kitchen fire, the bread oven and the fired rooms in
the castle. Furthermore, there was a large quantity of venison needed to feed all the
guests. But precise numbers were of little use, there were no guaranties on the quan-
tity.23 Sometimes the castle was redecorated with tapestries and curtains. More staff
was needed, and all the members of the household were working extra for some weeks
in order to get all the work done.24 When there was a banquet organised, there was
a hierarchy at the table. The highest guests had the finest dishes and sat at the table
with their host, the King. The other diners, lower in rank, were seated at more of a
distance from the main table. Their dishes were simpler, less expensive and/or less
exclusive.25
It is noteworthy to determine the moment of serving Blanc Manger during a Me-
dieval feast. Acording to Terence Scully, editor and translator of Medieval cookery
books, Blanc Manger is mentioned in one of the Earliest French recipe collections at
the end of the meat dishes and just before the fish preparations.26 A Medieval banquet
314

had many courses, and each course had many different dishes. Visitors at such a ban-
quet were used to finding within every course their favourite dish, and eat what they
liked most. There was even a sequence in the courses: for instance, roasted meat was
considered to be an important dish. Accompanying the roast there were many other
recipes for side dishes, meant to keep the mouth fresh and the longing for more food
constant. From the Tudor court of Henry viii (1491-1547), for example, it is known
that Blanc Manger was served during the third course, together with other dishes.27
a close r look to t h e i ngr e di e n ts i n bl a nc m a nge r
Apparently, some cooking methods, styles and developments were adopted from
Medieval travellers who came from the Middle East or from Spain, thus influencing
western European cuisine.
The main ingredients in Blanc Manger are, as said before, chicken or a capon, al-
mond milk, cream, egg yolks and sugar (in the 1580 version). Small amounts of rose
water, sugar and/or almond paste are needed for a sweet taste. Whereas the earlier rec-
ipes (1350, 1510) use pieces of poultry cooked in almond milk, the later one from Tudor
England (1580) just cuts the poultry so fine that it becomes like a mash.
Cooking with historical recipes is not only dependent on the appropriate ingre-
dients, but also on the correct pots and pans to prepare the dish. Furthermore, it is
in my view that it is also essential to address the fuelling question. The way one puts
on, or reduces, the heat is of great importance to the final result(s). The Tudor recipe,
for instance, can only be cooked well when one can give a very precise ‘medium’ heat
to the cooking pot. This means two minutes of high heat, and then tempering down
to keep the heat and simmer the ingredients till ‘done’ (without any burning scents).
Chickens, or capons, were available in north-western Europe during the Middle
Ages. In fact, they were brought with the Roman invasions in the North, and were
imported together with olives, grapes and wine.28
Almonds grew in the Middle East, and were a widely-used ingredient. In particu-
lar, within Arab cuisine, they were very common. In Christian iconography, they were
often used as a symbol of the virginity of the holy Virgin Mary.29
Rosewater is distilled from etheric rose-oil. This is made from the leaves of the
flower. It is widely used as an ingredient in desserts in India and in the Middle East.
t h e r eci pe show n i n t h e photo -shoot
How do we make the Tudor-version (of ca. 1580) of the Blanc Manger recipe?30 We
start with collecting all the ingredients, which should be as fresh as possible (see Fig. 1).
315

A chicken or capon 100 grams fresh white breadcrumbs

150 grams ground almonds two teaspoons of sugar
300 ml cream four teaspoons of rosewater
whites of four eggs
Clean the chicken and put it in a pot (Fig. 1). Cover it with water and let it cook and
simmer for almost an hour until the chicken becomes tender, then drain and cool it.
Meanwhile mix the grounded almonds with the cream.31
Then pick all the flesh from the chicken bones and chop the meat very fine (Fig. 2).
Grind it with the almonds and cream, egg whites, breadcrumbs and sugar (Fig.3), and
stir over a medium heat until the substance get thickened.
When cold, rub everything through a sieve, mix this with rosewater and put the
dish in three piles on a plate. This means: after mixing with the rosewater fill three
forms/moulds with the paste and let it cool down. When cold, put the three mould-
ed shapes carefully on top of each other in order to create a tower on a plate (Fig. 4).
Finally, decorate the piled up creation with almonds and serve (Fig. 5).
Considering the ingredients, most of the work is in chopping the chicken fine.
When in a pot for cooking and binding, the substance is almost ready. However, put-
ting everything into forms/moulds and letting it cool down (in order to make a pile),
is not a usual treatment for a dish today. In fact, to cool the substance down in a bowl
and then turn this upside down is nowadays easier. But a good eye, was also in the past,
very important as was the need to impress at the royal table.
a mode r n r eci pe va r i a n t
A Modern variant of Blanc Manger (by the French chef and culinary writer Georges
Auguste Escoffier) gives quite a different recipe, meant as a dessert. He provides us
with a French and an English version, of which the latter is translated in Dutch:
version 4a – «blanc-manger à la française» (ca. 1903)32

Composition: Monder 500 grammes d’amandes douces et 4 ou 5 amandes amères ; les
mettre à dégorger à l’eau fraîche pour les obtenir très blanches. Les piler aussi finement
que possible en y ajoutant, cuillerée par cuillerée, 8 décilitres d’eau filtrée ; presser le tout
dans un fort torchon, en tordant fortement. Faire dissoudre 200 grammes de sucre en
morceaux dans le lait d’amandes ainsi obtenu – environ 7 décilitres ; l’additionner de 30
grammes de gélatine dissoute dans du sirop tiède ; passer à la mousseline et parfumer à
volonté. – Moulage: Se fait en moule à douille centrale, huilé, comme celui du moscovite.
Faire prendre à la glace et démouler en procédant de même.
316

version 4b – «blanc-manger á l’anglaise» – modern recipe in a dutch

translation33
1 l melk waaraan 125 g suiker is toegevoegd aan de kook brengen. Dit snel roerend op
125 g maizena aangelengd met 2,5 fl koude melk schenken. Op het vuur al roerend met
de garde laten binden. Vervolgens onder voortdurend roeren op hoog vuur enkele mi-
nuten laten koken. De compositie van het vuur nemen en naar keuze parfumeren. Warm
in met lichte siroop bevochtigde vormen schenken, die om de blanc-manger gladder en
glanzender uit de vorm te laten komen. Laten zetten en koud serveren, eventueel met
een vruchtencompote.
This Modern variant of blanc-manger á l’anglaise (1903) by Escoffier, translated into

Dutch in 1985, is a based on milk sweetened with sugar and thickened with starch. The
rosewater, chicken and almonds have disappeared. As a dessert, the dish is quite plain,
but it can be perfumed according to the modern cook’s own taste. It is, therefore, a
perfect recipe to accompany other dessert-components, like a coulis of (red) fruits. In
recent times, there is a larger demand for fast recipes, as well as for adjustments (like
more sweetening), to appeal to the modern taste.
ta st i ng t h e r eci pes
In order to understand the different components in the four presented recipes of Blanc
Manger, it is also important to describe what the taste is going to be like after the ac-
tual cooking is undertaken.
The taste of the Medieval and Tudor recipes of Blanc Manger (1350, 1510, 1560),
for instance, is a soft and slightly sweet one. When cooked well and cooled down,
the substance also gives a smooth and crumbly effect in the mouth due to the finely
chopped almonds in the mixture. The aftertaste, however, creates a slight palate of
chicken, like in the recipe of Tavuk Göğsü’. The rosewater in these recipes, which was
a safe replacement for (not so fresh) water in the Middle Ages, leaves a nice taste in the
mouth, reminiscent of sweets like lokum (Turkish delight).
The taste of the Modern recipe of Blanc Manger (1985), on the other hand, is a
soft and very smooth one, as if one is eating panna cotta (a kind of Italian custard) or
slippery yoghurt. Today, it is quite sweet and thickened with corn-starch, an ingredi-
ent which was sold in the Low Countries for the first time in 1913. The special taste
of Modern Blanc Manger can be further sweetened with (white) chocolate, or with a
teaspoon of almond extract.34
317

conclusion
Historical recipes come to us in different editions and with different interpretations

and, therefore, contained miscellaneous ingredients when they were created in the
past. At that time, these recipes were written down as a reminder of what needed to
be remembered.
Today, only the taste and culinary details of the original recipes give away their
secrets. However, there is the risk that our modern views blur the historical recipes. In
fact, these views can be fuelled by ‘expectations’, or even wishes, for a certain (special)
taste. It is, therefore, important to read and interpret the authentic recipe as conscien-
tiously as possible. In fact, we should not adjust a historical recipe in the hope that it
will become a modern dish in the way we are nowadays accustomed to. There is no
need to rush the old recipes, they need more time and preparation with the aim of
getting their particular taste.
The preparation of Blanc Manger in its 16th-century version from Tudor England
takes, at least, one day. This is truly slow cooking. So, the Tudor cooks must have start-
ed early in the morning to prepare this dish for dinner. When made today, it is easy to
keep Blanc Manger cold in the fridge, but back then it was a necessity to prepare the
dish fresh every day.
According to my own cooking experiences, most modern dinner guests still like
the taste of Blanc Manger.35 Nevertheless, before enjoying this historical recipe, I al-
ways recommend them to eat first a piece of bread and drink some water (because it is
not wise to drink for instance coffee or Coca-Cola right before) in order to appreciate
to the full the delicate taste of this dish, made for a Tudor king.
318

not es
1 See Vandepoel 2013. der Noot can be found on the first page (fol.
2 Cf. for the term ‘recipe’, Yentsch 2015, 429. A ii) of the 1510 published cookbook with
3 E.g., Escoffier 20067; Scully 1988, 166-67, nr. the title Een notabel boecxken van cokeryen,
95: ‘Blanc mengier d’un chappon’. which was reprinted in facsimile in 1925 by
4 Scully 1995, 207; other names for this dish Martinus Nijhoff in The Hague.
are blancmanger, blankmager, blank manger 14 Van Winter 1976, 133.
(English), blanc mengier (Dutch/Flemish), 15 As a result of this, it would make sense that
blamensir (German), mangiare bianco, this 1510 version was used during the Middle
biancomangiare, blanmangieri, bramangere Ages as a recipe for ill people.
(in Italian), manjar blanco (Spanish), menjar 16 Brears 2015, 304-305.
blanch, menjar blanc, menjablanc (Catalan), 17 Brears 2015, 304.
manjar branco (Portuguese) and albus cibus, 18 Henisch 2009, 1-27.
esus albus (Latin). 19 However, he is not the original author; see in
5 See for Catalan and other Medieval general, Scully 1988.
versions of Blanc Manger, Redon, 20 Henisch 2009, 134-63.
Sabban and Serventi 20123, 253-57, nos. 21 The King could easily decide to go on a trip,
130-31 (Biancomangiare alla catalana, and to give a festive meal in another castle
Biancomangiare oltremontano); Perry 2006. without consulting his cook; cf. Henisch
6 Scully 1995, 207. 2009, 141.
7 Similar looking desserts are ‘Bavarian cream’ 22 See also the contribution of J.M. van Winter
(Germany), ‘Vanilla pudding’ (usa), ‘panna on ‘Festive meals in the Late Middle Ages:
cotta’ (Italy) and ‘muhallebi’ (Turkey). An essay on alimentation as a means of
8 In time of fasting it was also possible to make communication’ in this volume.
this recipe with pike (fish). 23 Brears 2015, 138.
9 Scully 1995, 209-10. 24 Vandepoel 2016, 5.
10 Anonymous, Rezepte 3. 25 Henisch 2009, 142.
11 This recipe was published around 1350 in 26 Scully 1995, 209.
Germany (cf. ‘Anonymous’ for the version 27 Brears 2015, 393.
used in this article); see also Hajek 1958 28 Cavallo, Kooistra and Dütting 2008.
(www.dasmittelalterkochbuch.de) and Weiss 29 See for ‘amandel (noot)’, wikipedia https://
Adamson 2000 for more versions. nl.m.wikipedia.org.wiki>amandel.
12 According to Scully (1995, 210), sugar was 30 Brears 2015, 304.
‘the sick-dish ingredient par excellence in late 31 For the photo-shoot of this recipe I used
Medieval cookery’. the 16th-century cottage of my friend in
13 See Van Winter 1976, 133, Recept 43, who Rochechouart, France.
also mentions that this recipe of Thomas Van 32 Escoffier 1903, 831.
319

33 Escoffier 20067, 888. (1580) recipe. They worked steadily and neat,
34 See www.smulweb.nl and had nice results. The taste of the Blanc
35 Recently I organized a historical cooking Manger dish was not what they had expected
class for a group librarians in The or what we are used to nowadays, but most
Netherlands, and two of them made the of them liked it anyway
320

bi bl iogr a ph y
Anonymous, Das Buch von guoter Spise, Germany 1350. http://turba-delirantium.

skyrocket.de/bibliotheca/anonymus_buochvonguoterspise.htm (date last checked
15/05/2016).
Brears, P. 2015. Cooking and Dining in Tudor and Early Stuart England, Blackawton
& Totnes.
Cavallo, C., L.I. Kooistra and M. Dütting 2008. Food supply to the Roman army in
the Rhine delta in the first century A.D, in: S. Stallibrass and R. Thomas (eds),
Feeding the Roman Army. The Archaeology of Production and Supply in NW Eu-
rope, Oxford, 69-82.
Escoffier, A. 1903. Le guide culinaire; aide-mémoire de cuisine pratique, Paris.
Escoffier, A. 20067. Het kookboek van de klassieke keuken, ’t Goy-Houten (1st ed. Utre-
cht, 1985) [ = Le guide culinaire; aide-mémoire de cuisine pratique; 1st ed. Paris,
1903].
Hajek, H. (ed.) 1958. Daz Buoch von guoter Spise. Aus der Würzburg-Münchener
Handschrift, Texte des späten Mittelalters Heft 8, Berlin.
Henisch, B.A. 2009. The Medieval Cook, Woodbridge, Suffolk.
Perry, C. 2006. Isfīdhabāj, Blancmanger and no almonds, in: M. Rodinson, A.J. Ar-
berry and C. Perry (eds.), Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and Translations, Black-
awton & Totnes, 261-66.
Redon, O., F. Sabban and S. Serventi 20123. A tavola nel Medioevo, con 150 ricetti dalla
Francia en dall ‘Italia, Rome & Bari [= La gastronomie au Moyen Age, 150 recettes
de France et d’Italie, Paris, 1993).
Scully, T. (ed. & transl.) 1988. The Viandier of Taillevent. An Edition of all Extant
Scully, T. 1995. The Art of Cookery in the Middle Ages, Woodbridge, Suffolk.
Vandepoel, C. 2013. Sapor limitis, de smaak van de Limes, Vlaardingen.
Vandepoel, C. 2016. Eten en drinken op kastelen en buitenplaatsen, Kasteel & Buiten-
plaats 18, nr. 53 (April 2016), 3-7.
Winter, J.M., van 1976. Van Soeter Cokene. Recepten uit de oudheid en middeleeuwen,
Haarlem.
Weiss Adamson, M. 2000. Daz Buoch von guoter Spise (The Book of Good Food). A
Study, Edition, and English Translation of the Oldest German Cookbook, Medium
Aevum Quotidianum Sonderband ix, Krems.
Yentsch, A.E. 2015. Recipes, in: K.B. Metheny and M.C. Beaudry (eds.), Archaeology
of Food. An Encyclopedia, vol. 2: l-z, Lanham, Boulder, New York & London,
429-30.
321

fig. 5 – Finally: Blanc Manger (Tudor version), decorated with almonds – enjoy! (C. Vandepoel).
322

* * *
A matter of taste:
The experiment of a ‘Byzantine food-lab’
placed in socio-historical context
Joanita Vroom, Mink van IJzendoorn, Marten van Nieuwkoop
& Katelin Post
i n t roduct ion
The central themes of Medieval MasterChef are European and Mediterranean Medie-
val and Post-Medieval eating habits and food practices, explored through a range of
different archaeological methods and approaches.1 In this scope, our experimental sur-
vey of modern appreciation of Byzantine tastes is perhaps a bit off-beat, but we hope
that it may prove to be a genuine contribution to this discussion on food in the past.
The following text presents a study which combines ethno-archaeological theory with
experimental research, in an effort to comprehend today’s view on Byzantine foodways.
The main research questions of this study can be formulated as follows: How do
present-day Europeans appreciate the Byzantine dishes and drinks that were prepared
during these special events, and, in particular, how do they relate the Byzantine cui-
sine to social status? What are their assumptions about Medieval, and specifically
Byzantine, recipes? And, finally, how do these views relate to anthropological and his-
torical examples of supra-cultural experiences of dining habits and food consumption?
Consequently, the aim of this article is to discuss the interview data obtained dur-
ing the ‘Byzantine food-lab’, which was part of an experimental-archaeological Crafts
Market in 2014 in the city of Leiden, The Netherlands (Figs. 1, 2a-c).2 We have tried to
frame these results in the above-mentioned research questions. The food-lab experi-
ment was received very enthusiastically by the visitors (over 300 participants), so much
so that it generated enough results to devote an article to. The interview questions,
which were answered by the public visiting the food-lab, will be explored in this arti-
cle, together with ideas and theories relevant to concepts of taste, luxury food, social

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113489

status and the interfaces between these. We have tried to compare this data with what
we know about the Byzantine concept of dining in the past. In order to achieve this,
we have also framed the findings in an ethno-archaeological and historical context.
To meet these research aims and discuss our results, we have divided this article in
five interrelated parts. Firstly, we explore current theoretical concepts of taste, luxury
food and social class. Secondly, we set out to give a short historical background about
Byzantine diet and eating habits (ca 4th-15th centuries), as these are sometimes ex-
pressed in contemporary written sources, pictorial evidence and archaeological data.
Thirdly, we present the methodology used for the interviews. Fourthly, the Late An-
tique and Byzantine recipes and the ingredients used for the experiment are presented.
Fifthly, we discuss in detail and propose an interpretation of the interview results
through several graphs and tables before we reach our final conclusion.
ta st e , lu x u ry a n d soci a l stat us
One important objective of this study is to shed light on the assumptions people cur-
rently make about the relationship between Byzantine cuisine and social status. With-
in this framework, the concept of ‘luxury’ is important. Historically and temporally,
there were many occasions during which a great amount of effort was put into obtain-
ing, producing and consuming luxury food. Luxury food did, and still does, play a
major role in socio-economic and even political relations.3 It was, therefore, hardly a
surprise that the theme ‘luxury’ emerged during the Byzantine food-lab.
In order to define the correct meaning of ‘taste’, we have to distinguish between
two seperate aspects. First, the biological sensations that begin in the body through
contact with food and drinks and, second, the cultural, collective evaluation that a
particular society places on the gustatory experience. (This socio-cultural aspect is
caparable to the working of ‘taste’ in gastronomy art, literature, architecture, theatre,
music etc).4 This last phenomenon is also known as ‘good taste’. As a matter of course,
we use the first physiological meaning of ‘taste’ throughout our article, which may
include the sensations via the taste buds in our mouths (taste), by the sense of smell
(aroma) and by the combination of both (flavour).5
Furthermore, the term ‘luxury’ was frequently used by participants in our inter-
views to describe certain food and drink items. But what made some foods luxurious?
Luxury food has distinct features which consequently lead this to stand out from
‘normal’ food; this included refinement in taste, texture or contents of certain ingre-
dients.6 They were non-essential and the primary motive in obtaining these goods
was for the purpose of pleasure and enjoyment. The production and consumption of
luxury food has many socio-cultural and political connotations.7
324

v ro om , va n i j z e n d o or n, va n n i eu w ko op & p os t – a m at t e r of ta s t e
To add the taste of luxury to food, there needed to be a qualitative refinement of

a basic good. The French social anthropologist Pierre Bourdieu made a distinction
between ‘tastes of necessity’ and ‘tastes of luxury’.8 In this way, he handled the same
dichotomy as the Dutch archaeo-botanist, Marijke van der Veen, between what is a
basic ‘necessity’ (a need) and what is a non-essential ‘luxury’ (a desire). Van der Veen
illustrates this by the example of the basic need for bread and the desire for fresh or or-
ganic bread.9 The latter is thus optional, non-essential and generally harder or costlier
to acquire. Limited access to such luxury food is caused by, amongst other factors, its
ingredients being rare, exotic and/or expensive. Hence the persons consuming such
goods are ‘privileged’ in some way. In line with this, Bourdieu described these rare
and/or expensive products as ‘aristocratic foods’.10
Opposing to basic resources and requirements for human survival, luxury prod-
ucts are not a ‘basic need’. Nevertheless, there are needs for these goods in society. The
limited accessibility and qualitative superiority of these products makes them appeal-
ing and desirable. As Van der Veen argued, since they are privileged items, produced
and consumed with attention to detail and are a matter of choice, luxury food has
important social implications.11 It can, therefore, be used to express social status.12 It
has socio-economic, political and cultural functions in communities, for instance, in
advertising and displaying power, identity or wealth. In certain contexts, it can create
a distinction between the ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’ and this dichotomy has a wide variety
of social implications. This was certainly an important theme in the cuisine and table
manners in the Ancient and Medieval Mediterranean world.13
Presumably, in the Byzantine world, this meant that the well-to-do people saw the
consumption of luxuries as a way of setting themselves apart from those belonging to a
lower social strata. This was certainly the case in the Roman world.14 Also, in the case
of the Byzantine Empire, persons of higher social strata, such as the higher clerical
classes in monasteries or the rural and urban well-to-do classes, had access to better
foodstuffs and a more luxurious diet.15
What specific aspects made a food luxurious varies through time and is culturally
specific. Nevertheless, through the study of ethnographic and archaeological data,
Van der Veen managed to detect some general patterns. She argued that, in more com-
plex societies like the Byzantine Empire, luxury food can be classified by its quality
(rather than by quantity as is often the case in less complex societies),– it’s expensive
and exotic nature, it’s complexity and the skill and knowledge required to produce and
consume such foods.16 Likewise, the Australian scholar of Early Christianity, Andrew
McGowan, acknowledged the importance of the quality and variety of foods in rela-
tion to social status during Late Antiquity.17 Also the Byzantines took a considerable
interest in food preparation and the ingredients used.18
325

In short, the taste of food has always had a strong relation to the social value at-
tached to it; certain tastes indeed seem to trigger a ‘feeling’ of luxury, almost regard-
less of time and place. At least, the assumptions of our present day interviewees about
the ‘luxury’ taste of certain Byzantine dishes, recorded during the survey carried out
during our Byzantine food-lab experiment, closely matched the social status of these
dishes in Byzantine times (Tables 3a-b).
h istor ic a l backgrou n d
Although significant progress has been made in the study of Byzantine foodways,
there is still a lot which is largely unknown.19 Consequently, the following account of
the Byzantine kitchen, its products and associated habits, is a rather unfinished tale.
Food production, distribution and consumption are central themes in Byzantine so-
cio-economic history. Byzantium was largely an agricultural society. A large majority
of the (peasant) population was preoccupied with food production and a great variety
of foodstuffs was produced; these circulated and were consumed throughout the Byz-
antine world and beyond.20 In line with documentary evidence (e.g. recipes in written
texts, tax records, travellers’ tales and dietary regimes) and with pictorial evidence
(e.g. religious images, mosaics and wall paintings), the most important foods of the
Byzantine (upper-class) diet included wheat, barley, olive oil and wine.21 These main
ingredients were often supplemented with meat, fish, dairy products (milk, cheese,
butter, and yogurt), fruits, vegetables, nuts, legumes (beans, peas, and lentils), other
grains (oats, rye, rice, and millet) and honey as a sweetener.22 The meat consumption
consisted mostly of sheep and goats although pigs, cattle, chickens and other birds
were also consumed, for instance, in 13th-century north-western Turkey (Table 1).23
According to the Russian-American Byzantinist Alexander Kazhdan, meat con-
sumption increased from the 7th century onwards.24 The sea food assemblage con-
sisted of more than 110 fish and 30 other aquatic species, all mentioned in Byzantine
literature.25 The preparation of meat and fish was another important factor, and these
products were mostly salted, smoked or dried.26 Some other marine products, such as
caviar and sturgeon, were imported from far away.27
There is a general agreement among scholars that during the Middle to Late Byz-
antine periods in Greece (ca 10th -15th centuries), Orthodox fasting regulations led to
an increase in marine-based consumption.28 The Greek archaeologist Chryssa Bour-
bou stated that the calendar of the Orthodox Church imposed some form of dietary
restriction for nearly half the days of the year, all on which meat consumption was
prohibited.29 During these periods of regulations, vegetables and fish usually moved
to the centre of the menu.
326

Unfortunately, little is known about the everyday diet of the Byzantine lower so-
cial classes, primarily due to the absence of direct written evidence. While the wealthi-
er classes had access to more exclusive products, the lower classes were limited to foods
which were cheap and, equally important, locally available.30 Most likely, bread, soup,
and cheese formed the basis of the meals for the majority of the population, while
meat and fish were probably too costly for most (Table 1).31
food type mostly consumed

Meat Piga,b, sheep, goat, chicken, fish, shellfish
Dairy products Cheesea, feta, egg, milk, butter
Sugar/dessert Honey, rose sugar, quince marmalade, rice pudding, flatcakes (fried in oil)
Carbohydrates Bread, paximadion (hard dried bread)b
Vegetables Olivea , cabbage, onion, legume, garlic
Fruits Citrus fruits, fig, grape, pomegranate, apple, apricot, hazelnut
Drinks Wine with warm waterb, water-vinegara,b, soft drinks, water (in limited amounts)
Underlined: never consumed during periods of fasting regulations.
a
Typical diet of the lower classes.
b
Typical diet of the Byzantine army.
Table 1. Typical Byzantine diet in 13th-century north-western Turkey, based on archaeological and
historical evidence (after Çağlar et al. 2007, 1144).
Byzantine dining habits varied per region and changed over time. During the 5th and
6th centuries, for instance, eating habits were identical to those prevailing in Late An-
tiquity with diners sitting on a semi-circular couch eating from a semi-circular table.32
From this period until the 12th century, meals had a strong communal character, with
large shallow ring-footed dishes dominating the dining table.33 During the 12th and
13th centuries, however, a trend towards the separation of (semi-liquid) food and drink
into smaller and deeper bowls, shared by only two or three diners, occurred.34 Individ-
ual beakers, jugs, goblets, knives and forks suddenly made their appearance during this
period.35 Furthermore, an increased interest in the picturing of a variety of foodstuffs
seemed to occur, including the fragmentation of communal eating.36 What can be
noticed is that the foods and drinks were more often separated into numerous vessels
shared by a small number of diners, rather than the whole table.37 Change in dining
culture might also have been stimulated by the increasing Frankish involvement in
Byzantine domestic affairs. Most notably, during the Late Byzantine period, especially
from 1204 onwards, there was a considerable inflow of Frankish people to Greek lands
and Western (mostly Italian) merchants got a strong grip on trade, especially in the
exchange of foodstuffs.38 It is likely that this influenced what was consumed and how.
Some scholars state that the Byzantines normally ate three times a day, while oth-
ers propose two meals a day.39 It is, however, assumable that the number of daily mails
327

differed depending not only on social class, but also on aspects such as local-availa-
bility, the current season of the year and monastic preferences. In some monasteries
food was served three times a day, for example, while in others only one meal was
conceded.40
According to the Austrian Byzantinist Johannes Koder, the normal number of
daily meals was probably two. The first, called ariston or geuma, was consumed be-
tween 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. The richer, second meal, called deipnon, was consumed in the
evening, before sunset. On some occasions, the two meals coincided, being served in
the afternoon. This meal was therefore called aristodeipon. It is likely that the majority
of people ate a hot cooked meal (mageira, and probably the deipnon in this case) only
once a day, as fuel to heat the meal was costly and rare.41
The Greek-Canadian Byzantinist Nicholas Oikonomides, studying lists of house-
hold goods of middle- and lower-class households, concluded that dinner habits were
rather simple in the average Byzantine household. People often ate with their fingers
from a large serving plate and drank from a common cup or jar.42 Similar dining man-
ners occurred in Ottoman Greece as well.43 However, what is important to keep in
mind is that a part of the utensils and table ware used for dining, was probably made
of non-ceramic materials (e.g. wood, leather, metal).44 These reusable and perishable
items are all but lost and with them, crucial knowledge regarding Byzantine foodways.
m et hodology
With our food-lab experiment, we aimed to obtain reliable and useable information to
shed light on the present-day perception ofByzantine diet and its socio-economic and
cultural implications, by means of a public survey. A question-based form seemed to
us a fruitful way of collecting this data. We formulated a number of questions which
had the potential of providing interesting results (Fig. 1).
Firstly, we recorded the personal data of the participants of the survey, including
information regarding any allergies and age. The reason for collecting this informa-
tion was not only to gain insights into the diversity of the people interviewed, but
also to find out whether there were any differences or similarities between various age
groups (Figs. 2a and 3).
Thereafter, the emphasis was moved to the actual recipes of this experiment. We
asked the interviewees not only to rate the recipes on a scale of one to five (one being
the lowest and five the highest), but also which ingredients the different recipes could
contain and which ingredients the interviewed person could recognise (Figs. 4a-b, 6
and 7). Next, the participants were requested to think about the production sequence
of the recipes and to which social class (upper, middle, or lower) these recipes could
328

have belonged (Tables 3a-b). Lastly, the attendants were asked whether they knew of
the existence of these recipes, and if they would like to consume them again after the
interview or not (Fig. 5).
In the preparation for the Crafts Market, the necessary supplies for the experiment
were bought and the Byzantine recipes had to be produced. These necessities included
the actual ingredients used for the recipes, suitable tableware in which the dishes and
beverages could be presented and a number of posters and flyers to elucidate the visual
aspects of Byzantine cuisine and foodways to the visitors at the Crafts Market (Figs.
2a-c).45 The historical background of the Byzantine recipes and the outcome of the
survey will be described elaborately later in this article.
r eci pes of t h e by z a n t i n e food -l a b
The recipes used for the Byzantine food-lab were obtained from Late Antique and
Byzantine written sources from many different centuries, and were tasted by pres-
ent-day people. They contained seven drinks and six dishes. We tried to be as authentic
as possible, using nearly the same ingredients and utilising the same or similar prepa-
ration techniques as described by various Byzantine authors in primary documents.
However, we opted, in our experiment at the Crafts Market in Leiden, mostly for
vegetarian dishes (without meat or fish) for practical and hygienic reasons. This was,
for instance, due to the fact that we had no stove or open fire available and had to
make everything one day in advance. Moreover, it made our food-lab accessible to
those with certain dietary restrictions (such as vegetarians or in the case of religious
restrictions, for instance, on pork). Nonetheless, admittedly, this lack of meat and fish
left out important segments of the rich Byzantine cuisine.
The drinks – The first drink we made for our taste experiment was a non-alcoholic one,
also known as melegala (No. 1) as listed by the Greek Byzantinist Phaidon Koukoules
(1881-1956), a beverage of milk and honey in the fifth volume of his monumental work
Byzantine Life and Civilisation.46 We made a mixture of honey and almond milk, the
latter being used widely in Medieval recipes of Western Europe.
The second drink included another non-alcoholic beverage, but this time made
as a kind of fruit juice or rather concentrate (No. 2). The Jewish Byzantine physician
Simeon Seth suggested, in the 11th century, to combine the juice of grapes with rose
water (created by boiling petals in water).47 Hence, we mixed defrosted grape juice
with commercially distilled rosewater and water.
The third and fourth drinks were again non-alcoholic, as we used a very common
drink in Byzantium described by the same Simeon Seth as phoukas or phouska (No. 4).48
329

This was a mixture of plain vinegar and water. We also made a variant of this beverage,
this time with apple vinegar,water and with the addition of fresh mint (No. 3).
The mixing of water with spices was investigated in the fifth drink, another non-al-
coholic but rather temperate beverage (No. 5).49 It consisted of black pepper, cumin
seeds and anise, that were mixed with hot water.
The sixth drink contained alcohol and was a spiced wine, or conditum (No. 6). The
Byzantine physician Hierophile, suggested in the 13th century to drink wine with a
heavy mixture of pepper, cinnamon, clove and spikenard.50 Another variation on this
theme was our seventh and final drink, a kind of pepper wine as described by Kouk-
oules (No. 7).51 This spiced drink was made of wine, honey and crushed pepper.
The dishes – The first dish in our Byzantine food repertoire included a cold cabbage
salad (No. 8), as it was mentioned by the physician Oribasios in the 4th century.52 In
fact, he described the mixture as uncooked and washed cabbage, which should be
cut up with a ‘very sharp knife’, with some coriander and rue. Then, the dish was to
be sprinkled with vinegar and honey, and topped off with a little asafoetida powder.
The main ingredient in the second dish was grain, normally pearl barley (No. 9).
According to Hierophile, ‘pearl barley is suitably prepared when it is has swelled to its
fullest extent during boiling, then after this put on a gentle flame until it has wholly
converted into juice’.53 After it is completely swollen, the substance is mixed with vin-
egar, and, subsequently, a little fine salt. It is also suggested by Hierophile to add some
oil at the start of preparing this dish, as well as some leek and dill (if necessary).54
The third dish was made of legumes (No. 10). The Byzantine physician Anthimus
presented detailed instructions on how to cook lentils in the 6th century.55 Firstly,
they had to be well-washed and then boiled in clear water, which had to be poured off.
Secondly, enough hot water had to be put on them in order to cook them slowly on
the coals. When ready, some vinegar can be added to the lentils, as well as rus syriacus
(‘sumac’), oleum greniale (‘oil from unripe olives’), coriander roots/seeds and salt.
The fourth dish contained again legumes, but this time the main ingredients in-
cluded beans (No. 11). Agapios suggested to cook beans with pepper, mustard (seed),
oil and vinegar, which we indeed did during the preparation of this dish.56
The fifth dish was made of rice (No. 12). According to Simeon Seth, rice can be
prepared ‘with milk and sugar’.57 We boiled for this dish unpolished (brown) rice in
milk, while adding sugar during the cooking process.
Finally, the sixth dish was a kind of dessert, a honey cake made of honey and wheat
as described by Koukoules (No. 13).58 As leavening agent for this cake we used beaten
eggs and added water. When baked in a modern oven, the cake looked nicely brown,
but unfortunately it collapsed in the centre.
330

a na lysi ng t h e i n t e rv i ew r esu lts
The purpose of the next part of this article is to present the graphs and tables with the
interview results for a preliminary analysis. As stated before, all the interviewees of
the Byzantine food-lab had to give a rating from 1 (bad) to 5 (good) to the drinks and
dishes they tasted (Figs. 4a-c). All these ratings were put together and converted into
an average, per drink and per dish.
The results can be seen in the graph ‘Average rating’ (Fig. 4a). We separated dishes
from drinks to illustrate the differences between the two categories: an average of 3.43
for drinks and 2.88 for dishes (on a scale of 1 to 5). Because there were more drinks
(seven) than dishes (six), the graph ‘Average rating’ was further divided into two other
graphs showing the average rating per drink and per dish, indicated by number (Figs.
4b-c). In total, we had an average for all seven drinks (Nos. 1-7) and all six dishes (Nos.
8-13), ranging from a 4.26 for dish 13 to a 1.63 for drink 4.
In the first graph, one can see the average rating people gave to the foods and
drinks (Figs. 4b-c). Noticeably, generally, people liked the drinks more than the dish-
es. When looking closer at the separate graphs this favour for the drinks were almost
equalled with the dishes. There were no major differences seen between the different
averages per dish and drink. The lowest rating was for vinegar with water (No. 4) and
for beans with mustard seeds (No. 11). The highest rating was for wine with pepper
and honey (No. 7) and for the honey cake recipe (No. 13). Although the last combina-
tion of wine with spices looks similar to mulled wine but is not common for today’s
Western cuisine, the ratings were quite high in some cases.59
In two of the tables, we can distinguish the number of people who drank and ate
the drinks and dishes or if they did not (Tables 2a-b). In addition, we can see the miss-
ing numbers by, for example, unreadable or unanswered questions. In total, the drinks
were tasted 375 times and the dishes 300 times, which demonstrated the quantitative
significance and statistical potential of our study. The different volumes in which the
foods and drinks were made should also be taken into account. For example, one cake
was made (No. 13) and two drinks of wine with spices (Nos. 6-7). In addition, we did
not document the precise quantities for the ingredients in the recipes.
An important aspect that was considered was the age of the participants, which
was asked during the interview. We see the result in the next graph ‘Number of visitors
to age group’, categorised in six categories: ‘less than 20 years’, ‘20 to 25’, ‘26 to 30’, ‘31
to 40’, ‘above 41’ and a ‘missing/unanswered’ category (Fig. 3). Most participants of
the Byzantine food-lab were between the ages of 20 and 25. The overrepresentation of
this age group can be explained by the fact that we conducted this experiment within
the vicinity of the Van Steenis-building, which is part of Leiden University. Naturally,
331

most of the visitors were students. Lecturers, professors, parents of the students and
local residents also attended the Crafts Market.
The identity of the interviewees (socio-economic status, occupation, gender and
nationality) were not asked during the Byzantine food-lab. In anthropological liter-
ature, these aspects were often considered.60 Since these aspects were not taken into
account in our interviews, we can only assume that most of the participants were gen-
erally used to Western cuisine and eating habits, or at least were familiar with them.61
Much of Western (including the Dutch) cuisine consists of very different ingredients
and cooking processes, than that of the Byzantines.62 Hence, many of the recipes used
for the Byzantine food-lab are quite uncommon to traditional Dutch food culture.
As a consequence, the dishes and drinks were rather unfamiliar to many interviewees.
Nonetheless, some recipes were appreciated by a large part of the interviewed peo-
ple. During the survey, it was also interesting to ask the participants if they liked the
food and drinks and if they would like to continue to consume such goods (Figs. 5a-b).
Most interviewees wanted to continue eating some of the foods in the future. Another
28 persons were enthusiastic to continue to consume all Byzantine drinks and dishes
in the future. On the other hand, 18 persons would not like to consume any of the
dishes and drinks after the interview and 12 interviewees did favour only one kind
of dish or drink. A small number of people (8) said ‘maybe’ to further consumption.
i n t e r pr et i ng t h e i n t e rv i ew r esu lts
The participants of the Byzantine food-lab observed, smelled, touched, ate and drank
the dishes and drinks prepared for them. For their judgment and interpretation of the
products, they relied almost entirely on their senses without much historical back-
ground information of any kind.63 Their answers were thus largely based on tastes,
aromas and looks of the final products, as they were not able to observe the actual food
preparation which potentially could have significantly influenced their perception.64
Nevertheless, many of them had assumptions about the techniques used for the
processing of the drinks and dishes. As said and presented above, they had to guess
what the items were, what they were made of, how they were produced and by whom
they would have been consumed in the past. The results described below are general
trends observed in the answers of the interviewees and, admittedly, there were many
exceptions and deviations.
In many cases the interviewees made connections between taste, ingredients (with
respect to usage, complexity, costs and provenance) and social class. Many of them
were right – to some degree – in that eating habits of the past were somehow linked to
a certain lifestyle and hence implied a certain social status.65
332

Although Bourdieu stressed the existence of a ‘food division’ between the sex-
es as an essential factor in the way people in the past viewed and consumed certain
foods and drinks, this aspect seemed completely absent among the interviewees.66
The participants did not comment at all on gender roles in relation to the different
foods and drinks they consumed. Neither was age mentioned. Gender roles and
divisions between age groups were nonetheless certainly important to the process-
ing, as well as in the consumption, of foods and drinks in Medieval Mediterranean
societies.67
Some interviewees did detect links with contemporary Mediterranean cuisines,
especially Arabic/Turkish and Greek ones. Indeed, the taste of unfamiliar exotic in-
gredients, like some spices, can lead to associations with such ‘traditional’ cuisines.68
In general, sour-tasting dishes and drinks (containing vinegar) were less appreciated,
and alcoholic (containing wine) or sweet-tasting (containing sugar or honey) drinks
were more appreciated.
Returning to the debate regarding luxury food and social class, a lot of participants
seemed to regard foods made of supposedly ‘ordinary’ or ‘cheap’ ingredients as associ-
ated with lower classes and with a non-luxurious status, and the use of – in their eyes –
more costly or exotic products, particularly spices, as a sign of higher wealthier classes
(Tables. 4a-b). For instance, foods and drinks with pepper, cinnamon, and rosewater
were by multiple interviewees identified as luxury products, solely consumed by the
upper classes. Similarly, vinegar, onion, beans and cereal-based products were often
regarded as low-value goods used in low- and middle-class meals.
Interestingly, the lack of meat (and other animal products) in these recipes was
seen by several participants as sign of poor diet and hence low social status. Histor-
ically, this was generally the case: the consumption of meat or fish in cuisines of the
past, especially the quantities in which they were used, was an important indicator of
a more luxurious status of meals.69
Indeed, the food of the lower classes was usually meatless (what nowadays would
be called ‘vegetarian’) in Byzantium.70 Nonetheless, fruits and vegetables were appre-
ciated more by the Byzantines – even by the Byzantine Emperor – than by Medieval
Westerners.71 The remarks of these present-day participants (being mainly north-west-
ern Europeans) might, with the necessary caution, be traced back to the negative atti-
tude towards ‘greenstuffs’ from the European Middle Ages.72
The use of alcohol was, by some interviewees, considered a sign of the wealthy
upper classes. Interestingly, the Byzantines appreciated alcoholic beverages (mainly
wine) whereas, at the same time, they were aware of the ‘bad effects’ such drinks could
have.73 In the case of Byzantium, the British historian Andrew Dalby regards wine to
have been consumed by the wealthier on a daily basis, whilst being a luxury product.74
333

Van der Veen considered this, like meat consumption, as being linked to a higher so-
cial status, as many ethnographical and historical examples show.75
The participants regarded more ‘complex’ foods and drinks as luxurious and in-
tended for the wealthy upper classes, whereas ‘simple’ and ‘basic’ ones were intended
for the lower social strata. Many comments were made about the relationship between
the complexity of foods and drinks and their supposed place in Ancient social hierar-
chies. In fact, Van der Veen already recognised that complexity did play a role in past
societies.76 Water mixed with vinegar was, for instance, seen by many of the interview-
ees as simple, not very tasteful and, hence, for lower classes; indeed, this recipe (called
poscat or oxycrat) was mainly consumed by Byzantine soldiers and was referred to as
the ‘wine of the poor’.77
Despite this, the bases for many eastern Mediterranean meals (including Byzan-
tine ones) were ingredients regarded by today’s Westerners as ‘simple’ or ‘mundane’,
like bread, vegetables and legumes. Westerners visiting the Ottoman Empire were
known to have made condescending comments on the apparent lack of complexity
in the Ottoman cuisine and, therefore, labelling them as ‘frugal’.78 Nevertheless, the
Byzantine diet, with its great varieties and high quantities of vegetal ingredients, can
be considered quite balanced and healthy.79 Again, the apparent link between the
mental template of the 21st-century participants and Europeans in the past is striking.
The (supposed) provenance and scarcity of some ingredients played an important
role in the estimations of the interviewees of luxury and social class as well. Again,
such views are supported by Van der Veen.80 Many participants saw the items which
they regarded as having been abundant, mundane and/or from local origin (such as
onion, lentils, beans, barley, and nuts) as non-luxury goods and, thus, belonging to the
lower classes. Exotic products and ingredients which were considered as ‘special’ in
some way, were though of as luxurious. These included rosewater, pepper and almond
milk (Figs. 6 and 7).
However, in Byzantine times, the poor also used ingredients like pepper, honey,
cinnamon and cumin.81 On the other hand, ‘normal’ goods like bread, grains and leg-
umes were greatly appreciated by the Byzantines of all social strata and widely used.82
These goods were often used for sophisticated meals and, in many cases, dietary qual-
ities were given to them. The Modern perception on what is ‘exotic’, ‘special’, ‘extraor-
dinary’ or ‘exclusive’ is thus greatly different from that of the Medieval Mediterranean
past. Some ingredients, which in the past were regarded as special, are today highly
common and vice versa (see Figs. 6a-b for two anecdotic examples of which ingredients
our 2014 interviewees could recognise in recipes Nos. 1 and 9).83
The final major factor in assigning ‘social status’ to food was for many interview-
ees, of course, taste. Certain characteristic taste sensations appeared to be associat-
334

ed outright with either higher or lower social strata. More often than not foods and
drinks with sour or bitter tastes were classified as lower class, whereas sweet-tasting
ones were associated with the middle and upper classes. Many respondents found the
foods and drinks to be oddly tasting, or even ‘disgusting’, although often they were
also regarded as nutritious. In such cases, these dishes were mostly seen as food for
lower or middle classes.
conclu di ng r e m a r k s
How do Modern Europeans respond to Byzantine dishes and drinks, and what are
their assumptions about this cuisine? With these two main questions in mind, the
Byzantine food-lab and the corresponding survey were set up, from which this article
arose. Recipes from different Byzantine periods were selected and recreated as authen-
tically as possible, after which the dishes and beverages were served to present-day
consumers, whose reactions and taste sensations were recorded systematically.
The written sources quite clearly indicate that the Byzantine Aegean diet was
mainly based on wheat, barley, olive oil and wine, supplemented with meat (mostly
sheep and goat), fish, dairy products (milk, cheese, butter and yogurt), fruits, vegeta-
bles, nuts, legumes (beans, peas and lentils), other grains (oats, rye, rice and millet) and
honey. The lower classes, however, were usually limited to foods which were cheap and
locally available, often without meat. As a result, it seems that the significant differ-
ences in eating habits – at least those which can be noticed – occurred primarily in
the higher classes of society. Furthermore, there were undoubtedly variations in diet
and eating habits within regional, and even local areas, which would be interesting to
examine as well. It is nevertheless clear that the Byzantine food and eating habits were
remarkably different from those who were accustomed to dining in Europe, both in
the past and in the present.
Our interview results clearly show the participants’ unfamiliarity with, as well as
recognition of some elements of, the Byzantine cuisine. Certain recipes and ingre-
dients were identified as Mediterranean, or even Greek or Arabic/Turkish, whereas
others were received as very strange and, consequently, often non-appealing. These
reactions can, perhaps, be partly explained by the temporal, geographical and cultural
distance between the interviewees and the Medieval Mediterranean cuisines. On the
other hand, Dutch people today can perhaps relate more to exotic cuisines than their
Medieval and Early Modern ancestors. In conclusion, there is no clear and straight
answer on how people today perceive the Byzantine foodways. The survey results were
ambiguous and presumably based on too few respondents to be truly statistically sig-
nificant. To get a better picture, similar public surveys and studies need to be done.
335

Nonetheless, we can say, with the necessary precaution, that our interviewees did seem
to share the Byzantine notion of a luxurious meal when alcohol, meat, and/or other
exotic or expensive ingredients are involved, and that a social downgrading is at place
when these elements are absent at one’s table.
However, what is remarkably different is that plant products were enjoyed more
by the Byzantines, even those of high status, whereas many Europeans have a distaste
for such goods and would regard their food poor if fruits, vegetables and legumes were
its main ingredients. Furthermore, ‘simple’ versus ‘complex’ recipes as synonyms for
‘poor’ versus ‘wealthy’, is a view shared by our participants and Byzantine society. Still,
the concept of a simple or a complex meal differs greatly, which, again, goes back to
the usage of animal or vegetal products and spices. Similarly, the view of which ingre-
dients are exclusive or mundane varies quite a bit; the participants saw certain spices,
rather normal for the average Byzantine person, as exotic whilst some products, which
we would regard as dull, were liked by people of all strata in Byzantium.
To conclude, although there is general agreement between the Modern Dutch in-
terviewees and Byzantine society on concepts that constitute a wealthy diet (e.g., com-
plexity, expensiveness, distinctiveness), there is considerable disagreement on which
products embody these concepts the best. Most noteworthy, Western food culture is
greatly focused on animal products and, subsequently, appreciates plant products less
than the Byzantines seem to have done. This seems to go back to the traditional culi-
nary division between northern Europe and the Mediterranean on the role of animal
and plant foods and the different usage and spices. Different perceptions are probably
also rooted in the changed nature of present-day food production and increasing gen-
eral economic wealth. The position of alcoholic drinks, in contrast, seems to be rather
similar in Western and Byzantine society as a symbol of status as well as a means of
enjoyment.
Nowadays, there is a great influx in north-western Europe of migrating people,
ideas and goods (including foodstuffs) from cultures all over the world, and the Low
Countries are certainly no exception. This globalisation of cuisines is likely to make
present-day people more tolerant, or at least somewhat familiar, to dishes and drinks
from outside their own traditional kitchen. Hence, the depressing and equally sim-
plistic vision of a disruptive one-way-diffusion of Western foodways (such as the
McDonald’s hamburger, Heineken beer and Coca-Cola) to other parts of the world,
endangering traditional cuisines, can be disputed by demonstrating cases of successful
and welcome penetrations of (old) Eastern foods and drinks in the Modern European
cuisine. A similar ‘open-mindedness’ is, of course, seen in other aspects of cultural
interaction and interests in traditional customs (e.g. language, religion, visual culture,
music and clothing fashion).
336

We would like to thank the organisers of the Crafts Market, the Faculty of Archaeol-
ogy, and all the participants of our interview in 2014. Furthermore, we are much in-
debted to the Leiden students of archaeology, Zizi Rico Neves and Pim Rusch, for the
opportunity to use their colour images in Figures 2a-c and 5c. Finally, we are grateful
for the opportunity to publish our results in this volume.
337

not es
1 This round table session, which resulted in 16 Van der Veen 2003, 420.
the publication of Medieval MasterChef, 17 McGowan 1999, 36.
was organised during the 2014 European 18 Frankopan 2009, 134.
Association of Archaeologists (eaa) 19 Bourbou 2010, 1-9; idem 2013b, 65-66. An
meeting in Istanbul, Turkey. important problem is the general lack of
2 This event was held on September 26th scientific research on floral and faunal data
2014 at the Faculty of Archaeology (Leiden as well as studies of human remains from
University, the Netherlands) during the Byzantine times.
opening of the new ‘Van Steenis-building’. 20 Morrisson and Sodini 2002, 195-97; Laiou
3 Bradley 1998, 51; Mauss 2001, 72-74; Mintz and Morrisson 2007, 4-7, 101, 112; Frankopan
and Du Bois 2002, 99-101; Van der Veen 2009, 114; Haldon 2009, 171.
2003, 405, 420-21; Bourdieu 2013, 36. 21 Vroom 2003, 309-31 and table 11.1; Bourbou
4 e.g., Davidson 1988; Santich 1988; Freedman 2013a, 216; idem 2013b, 65.
2007; Vanderbilt 2016, 5-6. 22 Vroom 1998a, 541; idem 2003, 330; Bourbou
5 Davidson 1988, 9. 2013a, 216.
6 Van der Veen 2003, 405-6. 23 Koder 2007, 70-71.
7 Mintz and Du Bois 2002, 99-101. 24 Kazhdan 1991, 621.
8 Bourdieu 2013, 31. 25 Bourbou et al. 2011, 571.
9 Van der Veen 2003, 406-7. 26 Koder 2007, 59, 70-71; Bourbou 2011, 99-
10 Bourdieu 2013, 32. 100.
11 Van der Veen 2003, 406-7. 27 Kazhdan 1991, 621.
12 Goody 1982, 99; Bradley 1998, 51; Van der 28 Dalby 1996, 197; Maniatis 2000, 13; Chrone-
Veen 2003, 408; Boekaert and Zuiderhoek Vakalopoulos and Vakalopoulos 2008, 123-
2012, 92-93. 24.
13 Bradley 1998, 49-52. In Byzantium other 29 Bourbou et al. 2011, 571. Furthermore, recent
(non-edible) luxury items, and especially the isotopic research shows that maritime food
limited accessibility thereof, were used for was generally more consumed in Byzantine
socio-cultural and diplomatic tools as well. Greece than during previous periods
For instance, the political and commercial (Bourbou and Richards 2007, 70).
power facilitated by Byzantine silk was based 30 MacKay 2003, 419.
on the extreme exclusivity of its production 31 Bourbou 2011, 101; idem 2013a, 216.
and controlled exchange (see Muthesius 32 Vroom 2003, 304-13; idem 2007a; idem.
1992, 103). 2007b, 193-95.
14 Bradley 1998, 51; Boekaert and Zuiderhoek 33 Vroom 2003, 313-21, idem 2007b, 197-200.
2012, 92-93. 34 Vroom 2003, 321-27; idem 2007b, 200-03.
15 Talbot 2009, 260-262; Bourbou 2010, 137-38. 35 Vroom 2011, 419-21.
338

36 Vroom (2015, 186, fig. 25) illustrates this 56 Marks 2002, 143.
by comparing an 11th century painting of 57 Marks 2002, 132.
a dining scene with one from the late 12th 58 Koukoules 1948-57, v; Marks 2002, 148.
to 13th century. The table settings clearly 59 For instance, mulled wine (Glühwein) is
moved from communal to a more individual a typical Christmas drink made of heated
character. red wine with mulling spices or sometimes
37 Vroom 2007b, 204-05. raisins. This beverage is very popular in
38 Laiou-Thomadakis 1977, 4; Laiou 2002b, various parts of Europe and there are
305, 368; Laiou and Morrisson 2007, 166- many different types. A Dutch variant
67; Vroom 2011, 417-26. In 1204 the Sack of is Bisschopswijn, a kind of mulled wine
Constantinople by members of the Fourth consumed during the folklore celebration of
Crusade took place. This event led to the the birthday of St Nicholas (Sinterklaas) on
establishment of the Latin Empire which the 5th of December.
controlled great parts of former Byzantine 60 Harris 1989; Bourdieu 2013.
territories. 61 Nevertheless, the Dutch dining culture
39 Kazhdan 1991. has also been influenced by many foreign
40 Koder 2014, 425. cuisines (such as the French, Italian,
41 Koder 2014, 425-26. Indonesian, Chinese etc.).
42 Oikonomides 1990, 212; Vroom 2003, 328. 62 For instance, the so-called Hete Bliksem-dish
43 Vroom 2000, 210-11; idem 2015, 185. (potatoes with apple) is widely known to be
44 Vroom 1998b, 151-54; Redford 2015, 251. very typical for cuisine in the Netherlands.
45 All the ingredients were purchased at local 63 Albeit that a significant part of the
supermarkets or specialised food stores. We interviewees, being either student or
prepared the dishes and drinks in Utrecht faculty member associated with the Faculty
and Leiden some days prior to the Crafts of Archaeology, had more-than-average
Market-event. The posters and flyers we knowledge of, and familiarity with aspects of
produced ourselves. non-Western and pre-Modern cultures. They
46 Koukoules 1948-57, v, 136-69; also Marks were, therefore, perhaps less representative of
2002, 153. the average present-day Dutch person.
47 Marks 2002, 154. 64 Sutton 2006, 316-17.
48 Marks 2002, 154; Dalby 2003, 91. 65 Bourdieu 2013, 32.
49 Marks 2002, 153. 66 Bourdieu 2013, 35.
50 Marks 2002, 151. 67 Goody 1982, 101; Bradley 1998, 45-49.
51 Koukoules 1948-57, v; Marks 2002, 152. 68 Bourdieu 2013, 32.
52 Marks 2002, 85. 69 McGowan 1999, 127-40; Vroom 2000, 206;
53 Marks 2002, 133. Dalby 2003, 66-72; Van der Veen 2003, 412;
54 Marks 2002, 134. Redford 2015, 252-53.
55 Marks 2002, 146. 70 Dalby 1996, 196.
339

71 Vroom 1998a, 542 and note 82; Idem 2000, same time, it can be a medium of expressing
212; McGowan 1999, 125-27; Dalby 2003, lifestyle and (gender) identity. This example
74-77. supports the hypothesis of Bourdieu
72 Additionally, today industrial production of (2013). Studies of Modern Western society
animal products has caused a normalisation show that factors such as gender still play
of their daily consumption and thereby major roles in meat consumption (Gossard
perhaps an estranging of meals which lack and York 2003, 6; Daniel et al. 2010, 578-
such foodstuffs; cf. Gossard and York 2003, 579). Hence, it would be interesting to
2; Daniel et al. 2010, 575, 579. Although conduct a new taste experiment which
vegetarianism is a rising trend in the Western does include meat and fish dishes. As for
world, meat consumption is still growing. alcoholic beverages, there is much ethno-
73 Dalby 2003, 86. archaeological literature to suggest that
74 Dalby 2003, 91. such drinks are of major importance as
75 Van der Veen 2003, 412, 418, 420. In status differentiator in contemporary
temporal traditional communities, meat can societies as well as for people in the past;
also have socio-cultural connotations. For see Mandelbaum 1965, 281-82, 288; Van der
example, cattle meat (beef ) is consumed – Veen 2003, 418. For example, the trends
either eaten or sacrificed – by the Tandoy, on in alcohol consumption in India seem to
the island of Madagascar, during ceremonies correlate with social changes (Mandelbaum
(Parker Pearson 2000, 221-22, 224-27). 1965, 283). When India was more egalitarian,
Its consumption is thus an indicator for alcohol was used by all men. However, when
wealth, as well as a way of interacting with Indian society became more hierarchical,
the supernatural. The possession of cattle some castes were forbidden to drink liquor.
and the exchange and consumption of their Nowadays, in the Western world, the
products, is seen by the Tandoy men as a consumption of expensive wines or whiskies
sign of the pastoral masculinity. The case is a way of expressing economic or cultural
of the Medieval Türkmen from the Central wealth. This is often part of an effort to
Anatolian Plateau, suggest a similar attitude impress business or romantic partners during
towards animal husbandry and its goods luxurious dinners.
(Redford 2015, 249-53). This nomadic people 76 Van der Veen 2003, 420.
traded in, amongst other things, animal 77 Dalby 1996, 196.
products (such as wool, felt, hides, yogurt 78 For her description of the European
and cheese). They were, however, rather perception of Ottoman dishes, Vroom
hesitant to slaughter their livestock for meat (2000, 210-11; idem 2003, 335-41) uses
consumption, since these animals were written accounts of several Western travellers
central to their owners wealth. Hence, foods of the 16th to 19th centuries. The way of
like meat, can carry symbolic meanings consuming the foods and drinks, and most
regarding social hierarchies and, at the noticeably the usage of tableware and
340

cutlery (or the lack thereof ) as well as table 82 Dalby 2003, 77-78, 80.
manners, were alien to these travellers and 83 The American anthropologist Sidney Mintz
were generally not appreciated. Historically provides a clear example with sugar (1985).
appropriated table manners, cutlery and Sugar was once regarded as an elite product
tableware, would probably greatly alter which was exclusively consumed by upper
the experience of interview participants. A class people. Nowadays, it is available to
food-lab involving these elements, might everyone and used by all social strata of
potentially, provide interesting data. modern society, while overconsumption is
79 Laiou 2002a, 53-54; Bourbou and Richards even not uncommun in the lower strata of
2007, 64-65; Bourbou and Garvie-Lok society. Many other kinds of food went to
2015, 184, 189-90. Nonetheless, it cannot go similar socio-cultural developments. This
unnoticed that the quality of the Byzantine is why today health issues, such as obesity
diet shifted significantly between different and hart diseases, related to certain types
regions and periods, and, consequently some of food (e.g., alcohol, meat, dairy products,
people certainly lived on poor meals; cf. and sugar) are much more common and
Bourbou 2010, 172. are not reserved for the wealthiest classes,
80 Van der Veen 2003, 420. which was generally the case in pre-Modern
81 Dalby 1996, 196. times.
341

bi bl iogr a ph y
Bourbou, C. 2010. Health and Disease in Byzantine Crete (7th-12th Centuries AD),
Farnham.
Bourbou, C. 2011. Fasting or feasting? Consumption of meat, dairy products and fish in
Byzantine Greece: Evidence from chemical analysis, in: I. Anagnostakis, T.G. Ko-
lias and E. Papadopoulou (eds.), Animals and Environment in Byzantium (7th-12th
c.), Institute for Byzantine Research, International Symposium 21, Athens, 97-114.
Bourbou, C. 2013a. Are we what we eat? Reconstructing dietary patterns in Greek
Byzantine populations (7th-13th centuries AD) through a multi-disciplinary
approach, in: S. Voutsaki and S.M. Valamoti (eds.), Diet, Economy and Society in
the Ancient Greek World: Towards a Better Integration of Archaeology and Science.
Proceedings of the International Conference held at the Netherlands Institute at
Athens on 22-24 March 2010, Pharos Supplement 1, Leuven, 215-29.
Bourbou, C. 2013b. All in the cooking pot: Advances in the study of Byzantine diet,
in: I. Anagnostakis (ed.), Flavours and Delights. Tastes and Pleasures of Ancient and
Byzantine Cuisine, Thessaloniki, 65-70.
Bourbou, C. and S. Garvie-Lok 2015. Bread, oil, wine, and milk: Feeding infants and
adults in Byzantine Greece, in: A. Papathanasiou, M.P. Richards and S.C. Fox
(eds.), Archaeodiet in the Greek World. Dietary Reconstruction from Stable Isotope
Analysis, Hesperia Supplement 49, Princeton, 171-94.
Bourbou, C. and M.P. Richards 2007. The Middle Byzantine menu: Palaeodietary
information from isotopic analysis of humans and fauna from Kastella, Crete, In-
ternational Journal of Osteoarchaeology 17, 63-72.
Bourbou, C., B.T. Fuller, S.J. Garvie-Lok and M.P. Richards 2011. Reconstructing the
diets of Greek Byzantine populations (6th-15th centuries AD) using carbon and ni-
trogen stable isotope ratios, American Journal of Physical Anthropology 146(4), 569-81.
Bourdieu, P. 2013. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste, London &
New York [= La Distinction. Critique sociale du jugement, Paris, 1979].
Bradly, K. 1998. The Roman family dinner, in: I. Nielsen and H.S. Nielsen (eds.),
Meals in a Social Context. Aspects of the Communal Meal in the Hellenistic and
Roman World, Aarhus, 36-55.
Broekaert, W. and A. Zuiderhoek 2012. Food and politics in Classical Antiquity, in:
P. Erdhamp (ed.), A Cultural History of Food in Antiquity, Vol. 1, London & New
York, 95-112.
Çağlar, E., O.O. Kuscu, N. Sandalli and I. Ari 2007. Prevalence of dental caries and
tooth wear in a Byzantine population (13th c. AD) from Northwest Turkey, Ar-
chives of Oral Biology 52.12, 1136-45.
342

Chrone-Vakalopoulos, M. and A. Vakalopoulos 2008. Fishes and other aquatic species

in Byzantine literature: Classification, terminology and scientific names, Byzanti-
na Symmeikta 18, 123-57.
Dalby, A. 1996. Siren Feasts: A History of Food and Gastronomy in Greece, London &
New York.
Dalby, A. 2003. Flavours of Byzantium, Blackawton & Totnes.
Daniel, C.R., A.J. Cross, C. Koebnick and R. Sinha 2010. Trends in meat consump-
tion in the usa, Public Health Nutrition 14(4), 575-83.
Davidson, A. 1988. Tastes, flavours, aromas, in: T. Jaine (ed.), Proceedings of the Oxford
Symposium on Food and Cookery 1987: Taste, London, 9-14.
Frankopan, P. 2009. Land and power in the middle and later period, in: J. Haldon
(ed.), The Social History of Byzantium, Hoboken, 112-42.
Freedman, P. 2007. Introduction, in: P. Freedman (ed.), Food: The History of Taste,
London, 7-33.
Goody, J. 1982. Cooking, Cuisine and Class. A Study in Comparative Sociology, Cambridge.
Gossard, M.H. and R. York 2003. Social structural influences on meat consumption,
Human Ecology Review 10.1, 1-9.
Haldon, J. 2009. Social élites, wealth, and power, in: J. Haldon (ed.), The Social History
of Byzantium, Hoboken, 168-211.
Harris, M. 1989. Foodways: Historical overview and theoretical prolegomenon, in: M.
Harris and E.B. Ross (eds.), Food and Evolution. Toward a Theory of Human Food
Habits, Philadelphia, 57-90.
Kazhdan, A.P. (ed.) 1991. The Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium, Vol. 1, Oxford.
Koder, J. 2007. Stew and salted meat – opulent normality in the diet of every day?, in:
L. Brubaker and K. Linardou (eds.), Eat, Drink, and Be Merry (Luke 12:19): Food
and Wine in Byzantium, Papers of the 37th Annual Spring Symposium of Byzantine
Studies, in Honour of Professor A.A.M. Bryer, Society for the Promotion of Byzan-
tine Studies Publications 13, Aldershot, 59-72.
Koder, J. 2014. Cuisine and dining in Byzantium, in: D. Sakel (ed.), Byzantine Cul-
ture: Papers from the Conference Byzantine Days of Istanbul/İstanbul’un Doğu
Roma Günleri held on the Occasion of Istanbul being European Cultural Capital
2010, Istanbul, May 21-23 2010, Ankara, 423-38.
Koukoules, Ph. 1948-1957. Βυζαντινῶν βίος καὶ πολιτισμός / Byzantine Life and Civili-
sation, Vols. 1-5, Athens.
Laiou, A.E. 2002a. The human resources, in: A.E. Laiou (ed.), The Economic History
of Byzantium. From the Seventh through the Fifteenth Century, Vols. 1-2, Washing-
ton, 46-54.
Laiou, A.E. 2002b. The agrarian economy, thirteenth-fifteenth centuries, in: A.E.
343

Laiou (ed.), The Economic History of Byzantium. From the Seventh through the Fif-
teenth Century. Vols. 1-2, Washington, 305-69.
Laiou, A.E. and C. Morrisson 2007. The Byzantine Economy, Cambridge.
Laiou-Thomadakis, A.E. 1977. Peasant Society in the Late Byzantine Empire: A Social
and Demographic Study, Princeton.
MacKay, T.S. 2003. Pottery of the Frankish period: 13th and early 14th century, in:
C.K. Williams and N. Bookidis (eds.), Corinth xx: Corinth, The Centenary: 1896-
1996, Athens, 401-22.
Mandelbaum, D.G. 1965. Alcohol and culture, Current Anthropology 6(3), 281-93.
Maniatis, G.C. 2000. The organizational setup and functioning of the fish market in
tenth-century Constantinople, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 54, 13-42.
Marks, H. 2002. Byzantine Cuisine, New York.
Mauss, M. 2001. The Gift: The Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic Societies, Lon-
don & New York [= Essai sur le don. Forme et raison de l’échange dans les sociétés
archaïques, in L’Anneé sociologique, seconde serie, Paris, 1923-1924].
McGowan, A. 1999. Ascetic Eucharists. Food and Drink in Early Christian Ritual
Meals, Oxford.
Mintz, S.W. 1985. Sweetness and Power. The Place of Sugar in Modern History, New
York and London.
Mintz, S.W. and C.M. Du Bois 2002. The anthropology of food and eating, Annual
Review of Anthropology 31, 99-119.
Morrisson, C. and J.-P. Sodini 2002. The sixth century economy, in: A.E. Laiou (ed.),
The Economic History of Byzantium. From the Seventh through the Fifteenth Cen-
tury, Vols. 1-2, Washington, 165-213.
Muthesius, A.M. 1992. Silk, power and diplomacy in Byzantium, in: B. Gordon and
S. Baizerman (eds.), Textiles in Daily Life: Proceedings of the Third Biennial Sym-
posium of the Textile Society of America, September 24-26, 1992, Earleville, 99-110.
Oikonomides, N. 1990. The contents of the Byzantine house from the eleventh to the
fifteenth century, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 44, 205-14.
Parker Pearson, M. 2000. Eating money: A study in the ethnoarchaeology of food,
Archaeological Dialogues 7(2), 217-32.
Redford, S. 2015. Ceramics and society in Medieval Anatolia, in: J. Vroom (ed.), Medi-
eval and Post-Medieval Ceramics in the Eastern Mediterranean – Fact and Fiction.
Proceedings of the First International Conference on Byzantine and Ottoman Ar-
chaeology, Amsterdam, 21-23 October 2011, Medieval and Post-Medieval Mediter-
ranean Archaeology Series 1, Turnhout, 249-72.
Santich, B. 1988. Broadening the palate: Considerations of taste, in: T. Jaine (ed.), Pro-
ceedings of the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery 1987: Taste, London, 183-84.
344

Sutton, D. 2006. Cooking skills, the sense, and memory: The fate of practical know-
ledge, in: E. Edwards, C. Gosden and R. Phillips (eds.), Sensible Objects: Colonial-
ism, Museums and Material Culture, Oxford, 87-117.
Talbot, A.-M. 2009. A monastic world, in: J. Haldon (ed.), The Social History of By-
zantium, Hoboken, 257-78.
Vanderbilt, T. 2016. As You May Also Like: Taste in an Age of Endless Choice, New
York and Toronto.
Veen, M., van der 2003. When is food a luxury?, World Archaeology, 34(3), 405-27.
Vroom, J. 1998a. Medieval and Post-Medieval pottery from a site in Boeotia: A case
study example of Post-Classical archaeology in Greece, Annual of the British School
at Athens 93, 513-46.
Vroom, J. 1998b. Early Modern archaeology in Central Greece: The contrast of arte-
fact-rich and sherdless sites, Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 11(2), 131-64.
Vroom, J. 2000. Byzantine garlic and Turkish delight: Dining habits and cultural
change in Central Greece from the Byzantine to Ottoman times, Archaeological
Dialogues 7(2), 199-216.
Vroom, J. 2007a. The archaeology of Late Antique dining habits in the eastern Me-
diterranean: A preliminary study of the evidence, in: L. Lavan, E. Swift and T.
Putzeys (eds.), Objects in Context, Objects in Use. Material Spatiality in Late An-
tiquity, Late Antique Archaeology 5, Leiden & Boston, 313-61.
Vroom, J. 2007b. The changing dining habits at Christ’s table, in: L. Brubaker and K.
Linardou (eds.), Eat, Drink, and Be Merry (Luke 12:19): Food and Wine in Byzan-
tium. Papers of the 37th Annual Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, in Honour
of Professor A.A.M. Bryer, Society for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies Publi-
Vroom, J. 2011. The Morea and its links with southern Italy after AD 1204: Ceramics
and identity, Archeologia Medievale 38, 409-30.
Vroom, J. 2015. Food and dining as social display, in: K.B. Metheny and M.C. Beaudry
(eds.), Archaeology of Food. An Encyclopaedia, Vols. 1-2, Lanham, Boulder, New
York, and London, 184-87.
Vroom, J. forthcoming. The ceramics, agricultural resources and food, in: J. Haldon,
H. Elton and J. Newhard (eds.), Euchaita: A Late Roman and Byzantine City in
Anatolia, Cambridge.
345

Survey
What is your age?
Do you suffer from allergies? If so, please notify us!
Which dishes and beverages did you consume? What rating will you give per dish and/or
per beverage on a scale of 1 to 5? (Multiple answers possible)
Dish / Beverage
Rating
Do you recognise the main elements in the dishes and beverages you consumed?
Which ingredients do you recognise?
How do you think the dishes and beverages are prepared (cooked, boiled, fried etc.)?
Indicate per dish and beverage which social class (upper, middle, or lower) you think would
have consumed it in Byzantine times? Explain your answer.
Did you know of the existence of these dishes and beverages?
Would you consume the dishes and beverages again, if they were available?
fig. 1 – Example of interview form used in 2014 ( J. Vroom et alii).
figs. 2a-c – See colour plates page 399.
346

fig. 3 – Number of visitors per age group ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 4a – Average rating on a scale of 1 to 5 ( J. Vroom et alii).
347

fig. 4b – Average rating per drink on a scale of 1 to 5 ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 4c – Average rating per dish on a scale of 1 to 5 ( J. Vroom et alii).
348

fig. 5a – Results of question 8: Would you consume the recipes again? ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 5b – Would you consume the recipes again? (Photo: P. Rush).
349

fig. 6a – Example of recognized ingredients in drinks ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 6b – Example of recognized ingredients in dishes ( J. Vroom et alii).
350

Table 2a – Number of people who drank the drinks or not ( J. Vroom et alii).
Table 2b – Number of people who ate the dishes or not ( J. Vroom et alii).
351

Table 3a – Drinks attributed to social class ( J. Vroom et alii).
Table 3b – Dishes attributed to social class ( J. Vroom et alii).
352

* * *
Epilogue:
Mastering the art of
Medieval European table culture
Mary C. Beaudry
The contributors to this volume are the true masterchefs. They have prepared for us a
truly welcoming table, one that tempts us to partake of the fare before us and to en-
rich our understanding and perception of Medieval cookery and dining. The book’s
strength lies in the authors’ recognition that incorporating archaeological, material
culture, and textual evidence with culinary history is of paramount importance in
developing a comprehensive and textured comprehension of meals and mealtimes in
the past.
This approach I endorse wholeheartedly. I use the phrase gastronomical archaeology
to characterize an approach that seeks to augment the representation of the archaeol-
ogy of food in food studies through more than merely an exploration of past diet or
of what sorts of foods a given culture consumed1 – although the phrase has been used
in this latter sense by archaeologists, culinary historians, and antiquarians. I consider
a gastronomical approach to the archaeology of food as a multi- if not interdiscipli-
nary pursuit incorporating examination of the ways that people experience meals and
mealtimes in addition to what people ate and how it was prepared. This is essential for
understanding the socio-cultural significance of past meals as well as for interpreting
and understanding them in broader context, as opposed to merely to reconstructing
them, as the essays in this volume demonstrate at every turn.
It should also be noted that, especially in Europe, a ‘new comprehensive approach’
to past foodways, inspired by anthropological theories about food, has emerged. The
study of table culture, meaning ‘all practices linked to nutrition, to concrete activities

FHG 10.1484/m.mpmas-eb.5.113490

as well as their symbolic representations’, employs an array of sources from archaeol-

ogy, images, and texts, crossing traditional boundaries of historical research by in-
corporating ‘agrarian history, history of life and customs, religious history, medicine,
material culture history, history of ideas’ and more. The chief topics examined under
the rubric of table culture are nutrition and diet – what people ate and how food and
diet featured in social, cultural, and religious discourses around health and well-being
– and meals, ‘the way and manner in which food and drink were consumed’.2
Archaeologists have become increasingly interested in the ‘social practices of din-
ing’ in a wide array of cultures and time periods, although only in literate cultures
– those with some form of writing – is it possible to bring together archaeological,
documentary, material culture, and art historical evidence that makes it possible to
fully consider not just foodstuffs but places where dining took place, the furnishings
and décor of dining areas, and the tableware, as well as rituals of preparing and serving
food and drink, ‘the stages by which they were consumed and the behavior that was
considered appropriate’ in a given culture.3
In Medieval Masterchef, the authors explore several themes, including: the interrela-
tionship between shifts in cuisines and cookery techniques and changes in cooking
wares (Gabrieli, Waksman, Shapiro & Pecci; van Oosten); change over time in the
social contexts of dining and their material constituents (Bağcı & Vroom, Librenti,
Moine, & Sabbionesi, van Verrocchio); taste, in terms of the sense of taste (Vandepoel)
as well as the exercise of refined judgment or distinction4; performance, communica-
tion, and social and cultural identity (van Winter; Vroom & Tzavella); and Arabic/
Islamic influences on Medieval European cuisine and table culture (Carvajal López
& Jiménez Puertas; van Winter).
The major themes addressed in the book are far from being disparate pathways of
exploration. Rather, chapters such as van Dongen’s address all aspects of food and the
material culture of food and cookery, tracing foodstuffs and ingredients, especially
spices, from their places of origin all the way to the tables of Medieval Europe, linking
these to new culinary developments and newly formed ‘tastes’, as well as to changes
in culinary implements, table settings, and table manners. Van Dongen’s theme of
‘global dining with Erasmus’ introduces a common thread running through many of
the chapters, to wit, the global character of what became the Medieval European diet,
at least for the better off, reflecting international trade in foodstuffs as well as in exotic
tablewares that added prestige and glamour through luxury and novelty to Europe-
an tables, in turn affecting ideas about manners, comportment, and sociability and
how these are reflected in proper adherence to ‘table culture’. Throughout the volume,
contributions by culinary historians draw upon archaeological evidence at the same
354

be au dr y – e pi l o gu e
time that archaeologists avail themselves of textual sources by, as Bağcı & Vroom put
it, ‘reading between the lines’, not taking the works at face value but analysing them
critically for hidden evidence and symbolic content.
Normally one assumes that festive meals, banquets, feasts, and even family meals
are events intended to be enacted in comfort and to create and support harmony
among diners and guests, but this is not always the case. In 2005 Hadley examined
‘disastrous and disharmonious dining occasions’ revealed in textual sources that re-
count ‘meals punctuated by illness, murder, fighting, illicit sexual unions and broken
tableware’,5 events very much at odds with idealized artistic images of Medieval feasts.
She discussed problems of formal dining and of dealing with large numbers of volatile
diners, servants who failed to perform their duties as expected, and the ‘social dangers
of various dining scenarios’,6 as well as how the material culture of elite dining could
at times frustrate or humiliate guests. Diners might be expected to participate in table
plays or be confronted with the challenge of attempting to drink from a puzzle jug,
or of comprehending table décor such as sotelties (foods made to look like something
else) bearing coded political or social messages, or decorations whose messages seemed
to invert the social order or advised diners about how to behave in ways appropriate to
their social position vis à vis the host.7
Performance, ‘the whole event, including audience and performers’ is nebulous,
‘because the boundaries separating it on the one side from the theatre and on the other
from everyday life are arbitrary’;8 at dinner parties the guests may be on foreign territo-
ry even if it is familiar to them, hence they are the audience ‘both participating in the
ritual of the dinner gathering and observing all things about the host and his family
and home. […] the host, family, and even the house and its decoration become the
performers, with staff in supporting roles. Yet the guests are called upon to perform
as well, entertaining the host and other guests in order to prove their value as persons
invited into his home’.9 We see in van Winter’s chapter on alimentation as a means
of communication the significance of food and religion in creating communities of
belonging among those who share food restrictions linked to religious belief, render-
ing mealtimes a vehicle for creating a sense of mutual belonging. In such instances,
commensality, one of the most ‘important articulations of human sociality’10 does
more than create and reinforce social relations through practice; it literally constitutes
and maintains a religious community. This reminds us that the performative aspects
of dining events serve many different purposes, not just reinforcing social hierarchies
but also bringing people together in ways that aligns sharing food with shared beliefs.
Medieval Masterchef is a rich exploration of many, many aspects of Medieval table

culture, bringing together essays that are wide-ranging geographically and topically,
355

yet all with the common intent of bringing new information to bear upon important
aspects of how food was prepared both in terms of process and cookware, brought to
the table, in terms of ceremony and table wares, and savoured in Medieval Europe,
socially, intellectually, and spiritually. My congratulations to the masterchefs!
*
not es
1 Beaudry 2013. 7 Hadley 2005, 108-116.

2 Schmitt-Pantel 2006. 8 Schechner 1977, 44, quoted in Goldstein
3 Carroll et al. 2005, 20-21. 2013, 78.
4 Bourdieu 1984. 9 Goldstein 2013, 78.
5 Hadley 2005, 102. 10 Kerner and Chou 2015, 1.
6 Hadley 2005, 106-108.
*
bi bl iogr a ph y
Beaudry, M.C. 2013. Feasting on broken glass: Making a meal of seeds, bones, and
sherds, Northeast Historical Archaeology 42, 180-96.
Bourdieu, P. 1984. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste (translated
by Richard Nice), Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Carroll, M., D.M. Hadley and H. Wilmott (eds.) 2005. Consuming Passions: Dining
from Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century, Stroud, Gloucestershire.
Goldstein, C. 2013. Pieter Bruegel and the Culture of the Early Modern Dinner Party,
Farnham, Surrey.
Hadley, D.W. 2005. Dining in disharmony in the later Middle Ages, in: M. Carroll,
D.M. Hadley and H. Wilmott (eds.), Consuming Passions: Dining from Antiquity
to the Eighteenth Century, Stroud, Gloucestershire, 101-19.
Kerner, S. and C. Chou 2015. Introduction, in: S, Kerner and C. Chou (eds.), Com-
mensality: From Everyday Food to Feast, London, 1-9.
Schechner, R. 1977. Essays on Performance Theory, 1970-76, New York.
Schmitt-Pantel, P. 2006. Table culture, in: H. Cancik and H. Schneider (eds.),
Brill’s New Pauly (Antiquity), First published online 2006: http://dx.doi.
org/10.1163/1574-9347_bnp_e402730 (date last checked 29/6/2016).
356

* * *
List of figures & colour plates

*
pr eface
fig. 1 – Map with most important regions mentioned in the contributions in this volume, ordered
by chapter sequence: 1. southern Spain (e.g., Granada, Almería, Cordoba); 2. south-eastern
Turkey (e.g., Tarsus, Gritille); 3. Cyprus (e.g., Paphos, Polis, Phini, Nicosia); 4. central Greece
(e.g., Athens, Corinth, Chalkis); 5. The Netherlands (e.g., Leiden, Utrecht, Rotterdam); 6.
northern Italy (e.g., Modena); 7. central Italy (e.g., Castelli, Chieti, Ortona); 8. north-western
Turkey (e.g., Istanbul, Iznik, Kütahya) (drawing J. Vroom).
jose c. ca rvaja l lópez & miguel jiménez puertas

fig. 1 – Map with the location of sites mentioned in the text: 1. Shaqūnda, Cordoba; 2. Marroquíes
Bajos, Jaén; Manzanil in Loja, Granada; 4. Ilbīra in Atarfe, Granada; 5. El Castillejo de Nívar,
Granada; 6. El Castillejo de Los Guájares, Granada; 7. Bajjāna, Almería; 8 and 9. Monte
Marinet and Monte Mollet respectively, Castellón de la Plana. 10. Santa Fe de Oliva, Valencia
( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
fig. 2 – Late Antique (5th to 8th centuries) panera from El Castillejo de Nívar (above) and Amiral
(8th to 9th centuries), ṭabaq from Ilbīra (below) ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
fig. 3 – left: 10th-century tannūr from La Rábita de Guardamar (redrawn from Gutiérrez Lloret
1993, 57). right: 10th-century anafre from Madīnat al-Zahrā’, Cordoba (redrawn from Vallejo
Triano and Escudero Aranda 1999, 158).
fig. 4 – Ratio of closed and open cooking forms in a number of archaeological sites in southern
al-Andalus, in percentages. See table 2 in Appendix i on page 49 for full display of data ( J.C.
Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
fig. 5 – Wheelmade cooking pot of the 10th century in Ilbīra (left) and one made on a slow wheel
found in Bajjāna (right). (The cooking pot from Bajjāna has been redrawn from Castillo
Galdeano y Martínez Madrid, 1993, 102).
fig. 6 – Ataifor from Ilbīra (10th century) ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
fig. 7 – Percentages of open table wares over whole assemblages and of glazed vessels over the total
of open table wares in different archaeological sites of south al-Andalus. No glazed table wares
were documented in El Castillejo de Nívar Phase i, in Marinet and Mollet or in Cordoba. There
are no data available about amounts of glazed table wares in Marroquíes Bajos Phases i and ii,
357

Santa Fe de Oliva or El Castillejo de Los Guájares. See table 3 in Appendix ii on page 50 for
full display of data ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
table 1 – Proportion of uses of different cooking vessels in the recipes described in the Kitāb al-
Tabīkh (13th century) ( J.C. Carvajal López, M. Jiménez Puertas).
table 2 – Ratio of closed and open cooking forms in a number of archaeological sites in South
al-Andalus, in percentages. Different techniques of percentage calculation have been used in
different sites. Total numbers of sherds and forms were not always available. Sources of data:
for Nívar (all phases): Jiménez Puertas and Carvajal López in press; for Marinet and Mollet:
Bazzana 1992, 155; for Cordoba: Casal et al. 2005, 235; for Manzanil: Jiménez Puertas’ own
work; for Marroquíes Bajos Phase I: Pérez Alvarado 2003, 126; for Marroquíes Bajos Phase ii:
Pérez Alvarado 2003, 129; for Pechina: Castillo Galdeano and Martínez Madrid 1993, 75; for
Madina Ilbīra Phase ii: Malpica Cuello et al. 2006; for Madina Ilbīra Phase iii: Jiménez Puertas
2012; for Santa Fe de Oliva: Bazzana 1992, 149; for El Castillejo de Los Guájares: García Porras
2001, 452.
table 3 – Relevant percentages of open tablewares and of glazed open tablewares in different
archaeological sites of southern al-Andalus. Different techniques of percentage calculation
have been used in different sites. Total numbers of sherds and forms were not always available.
Sources of data: for Nívar (all phases): Jiménez Puertas and Carvajal López in press; for
Marinet and Mollet: Bazzana 1992, 155; for Cordoba: Casal et al. 2005, 235; for Manzanil:
Jiménez Puertas’ own work; for Marroquíes Bajos Phase I: Pérez Alvarado 2003, 126; for
Marroquíes Bajos Phase ii: Pérez Alvarado 2003, 129; for Pechina: Castillo Galdeano and
Martínez Madrid 1993, 75 and 86; for Madina Ilbīra Phase ii: Malpica Cuello et al. 2006; for
Madina Ilbīra Phase iii: Jiménez Puertas 2012; for Santa Fe de Oliva: Bazzana 1992, 149; for El
Castillejo de Los Guájares: García Porras 2001: 452. nd: no data were available.
yasemi n bağcı & joa n ita v room

figs. 1a-b – Lustreware examples from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus: shapes of bowl
and plate (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
figs. 1c-d – Lustreware examples from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus: rim shapes (Y. Bağcı,
J. Vroom).
fig. 1e – Fabric of Lustreware from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 2a-b – Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware examples from the Gözlükule Mound excavations,
Tarsus: shapes of bowl and plate (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 2c – Fabric of Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware from the Gözlükule Mound excavations,
Tarsus (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 3 – Vessel volume comparison between bowls and plates of Lustreware and Polychrome
Painted Glazed Ware (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 4a – left: Lustreware bowl from the Harvey Plotnick Collection, University of Chicago
358

l i s t of f igu r e s & col ou r pl at e s
(after Pancaroğlu 2007, 46, fig. 5); right: Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware bowl from the
Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 4b – left: Lustreware tile of the Great Mosque of Karaiwan (also: al-Qayrawan), Tunisia;
right: Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware bowl from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus
(Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 5 – Pseudo-Galen, Kitab al-Diryaq, Iraq, 1199, ms. Arabe 2964, old page 22, Bibliothèque
Nationale, Paris (after Ettinghausen 1972, 84).
fig. 6 – Al-Hariri, Maqamat, Iraq, 1237, ms. Arabe 5847, fol.140r., Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris
(after Grabar 1984, 96).
fig. 7 – Al-Hariri, Maqamat, Iraq, c. 1240s, ms. C-23, p.205, fol.103v., Institute of Oriental
Manuscripts of the Russian Academy of Science, Saint Petersburg (after Petrosyan 1995, 151).
table 1 – Serving vessels mentioned in the Kitab al-Tabikh (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom; after Nasrallah
2007, passim; Ahsan 1979, passim).
table 2 – Popular dishes of the Abbasid period (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom; after Nasrallah 2007, passim;
Ahsan 1979, passim).
lubna om a r
fig. 1 – Map of Turkey with its current political borders, showing the Islamic / Medieval sites
included in this chapter (L. Omar).
fig. 2 – Frequencies of the animal species in the faunal assemblage from the Gözlüküle Mound at
Tarsus, based on the number of identified fragments (nisp) (L. Omar).
fig. 3 – Distribution of ovis/capra’s skeletal elements from the Gözlüküle Mound, Tarsus (L. Omar).
fig. 4 – Distribution of cattle’s skeletal elements from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (L. Omar).
fig. 5 – Distribution of ovis/capra’s fusion stages from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (LBA =
Late Bronze Age; L-A = Late Antiquity; MED = Medieval period) (L. Omar).
fig. 6 – Ovis/capra’s teeth wear stages from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus, based on minimum
number of individuals (mni) (L. Omar).
fig. 7 – Pattern of cut marks on sheep/goats remains from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (L. Omar).
fig. 8 – Ratios of identified animal species from different Islamic / Medieval settlements in Turkey
(L. Omar).
table 1 – Summary of identified fragments from the Gözlüküle Mound at Tarsus (L. Omar).
table 2 – List of cookery books of the Abbasid period (L. Omar).
ruth sm a da r ga br ieli, silv ie yona wa ksm a n,

a nastasi a sh a piro & a lessa n dr a pecci
fig. 1 – Map of Cyprus (after Waksman 2014, fig. 1).
fig. 2 – Plan of Paphos with the three sites marked (Paphos Theatre Excavation Project, University
of Sydney).
359

fig. 3 – Levantine pan/baking dishes, classified according to petrographic and elemental analyses:
Beirut group (top), others (bottom) (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 4 – Levantine cooking pots, Beirut group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after
Waksman 2014 and Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 5 – Cypriot pan/baking dishes, classified according to petrographic and elemental analyses:
main Cypriot group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 6 – Cypriot cooking pots, main Cypriot group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and after
Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 7 – Cypriot cooking pots and jugs, main Cypriot group (C. Brun, J. Burlot, S.Y. Waksman, and
after Gabrieli 2008).
fig. 8 – Classification of samples of Cypriot and Levantine types from Paphos according to
elemental compositions (S.Y. Waksman).
fig. 9 – Classification of samples of Cypriot and Levantine types from Paphos, with reference
samples for Beirut productions, according to elemental compositions (S.Y. Waksman).
fig. 10 – Microphotograph of cooking pot bzy616: Q – quartz, Pl – plagioclase, Ol – olivine
(crossed-polarized light) (A. Shapiro).
fig. 11 – Microphotograph of cooking pot bzy618: Q – quartz, Ch – chert (crossed-polarized
light) (A. Shapiro).
fig. 12 – Microphotograph of cooking pot bzy692: Fe – alkali feldspar, Clp – clinopyroxene, Mi –
mica (crossed-polarized light) (A. Shapiro).
table 1 – Summary of samples analyzed. Abbreviations: (category) cp: cooking pot, p/bd:
pan/baking dish, j: jug; (types) L: Levantine, C: Cypriot; (analysis) Bar: Barcelona (S.Y.
Waksman).
table 2 – Elemental compositions of the samples and comparative data, ranked as in the
classification of Fig. 8. Abbreviations: (sites) o: Odos Ikarou, s: Saranda Kolones, f: Fabrika;
(categories of wares) cp: cooking pot; p/bd: pan/baking dish, j: jug. Major and minor elements
in oxide weight %, trace elements in parts per million (ppm), l.q.: limit of quantification.
Elements between brackets were not used in the classification (S.Y. Waksman).
joa n ita v room & elli tzav ella

fig. 1 – Ten most used ingredients in Byzantine (top) and Medieval Italian (bottom) recipes
( J. Vroom).
fig. 2 – Athens: map of the Ancient Agora with location of the complex in sections PP and PP’
(ascsa).
fig. 3 – Athenian Agora: map with location of well U14:1 in section PP’ (ascsa).
figs. 4a-b – Athenian Agora: a. map with room 1 in section PP’; b. image of room 1 in section PP’
(ascsa).
fig. 5 – Athenian Agora: drawing of well U14:1 in section PP’ ( J. Vroom, E. Tzavella).
360

figs. 6a-c – Athenian Agora, the ceramic finds in well U14:1: a. graph of the total of vessel parts; b.
graph of the total of function; c. graph of the total of provenance ( J. Vroom, E. Tzavella).
fig. 6d – Athenian Agora: d. graph of the total of pottery types in well U14:1 ( J. Vroom, E.
Tzavella).
fig. 7 – Athenian Agora: composition image of glazed and unglazed ceramic finds from well U14:1
( J. Vroom).
fig. 8a – Athenian Agora, well U14:1, pottery finds from the tins in the basement: Roulette Ware
bowls (nos. 1-2); Monochrome Sgraffito Ware bowls (nos. 3-6) and unglazed jugs (nos. 7-10)
( J. Vroom, E. Tzavella, P. Doeve).
fig. 8b – Athenian Agora, well U14:1: composition image of unglazed jugs from tins in the
basement ( J. Vroom).
fig. 9 – Miniature from an illustrated paper edition of the Book of Job with Commentaries, Ms.
Grec. 135, fol. 18v, ‘Festin des enfants de Job’, ca. 1361-1362, signed by Manuel Tzykandyles of
Mystra, Constantinople or Mystra, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Paris.
fig. 10 – Miniature from Bible from Saint-Jean d’Acre, Arsenal Bible MS 5211, fol. 364v, ‘Marriage
of Naomi’s sons with Ruth and Orpah’, Book of Ruth, Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem (Acre), ca.
1250-1254, Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal, Paris.
fig. 11 – Miniature from Fécamp Psalter, Manuscript 76 F13, folio 1v, ‘Janus’, north-eastern France,
ca. 1180, Koninklijke Bibliotheek, The Hague.
table 1 – Athenian Agora: ceramic finds with complete profiles from well U14:1 ( J. Vroom).
table 2 – Recipes from the Cookery Book (Libro della Cocina) by an anonymous Tuscan writer,
dated to the late 14th or early 15th century ( J. Vroom; after Faccioli 1966).
roos va n oosten
fig. 1 – The development of cooking pots in the north of the Lower Countries (R. van Oosten).
fig. 2 – A theoretical visualisation of the tripod model (R. van Oosten).
fig. 3 – The percentages of the three most common types of cook ware found at the pottery
production site Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd (1275-1350) (Data retrieved from Van Rooijen 1993,
graph R. van Oosten).
fig. 4 – Historical cooking experiments: a) a replica pot in a fire of wooden logs; b) the post-fire
replica pot; notice that the pot is sooty only where the flames touched the pot; c) replica pots
in a smouldering charcoal fire; d) one of the post-fire replica pots; notice that the pot shows no
sign of any soot (R. van Oosten).
fig. 5 – Ceramic fireplace related items, ca. 1300, found in the proximity to the central paved
hearths, at the Rotterdam-Willemsspoortunnel site. However, not all the drawings were
retrieved from this site. Drawings 6-9 were retrieved from other 13th- and 14th-century sites in
The Netherlands.
1. Extinguisher, Carmiggelt 1997, 186, fig. 95.4 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300)
361

2. Extinguisher, Carmiggelt 1997, 186, fig. 95.5 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300)

3. Extinguisher, Carmiggelt 1997, 186, figs. 95.1a, 1b (Rotterdam, 1280-1300)
4. Brick spit support, Carmiggelt 1997, 185, figs. 94.1, 5 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300)
5. Brick spit support, Carmiggelt 1997, 185, fig. 94.3 (Rotterdam, 1280-1300)
6. Fire cover, Kistemaker 1983, 178, fig. 10 (Leiden, 14th century)
7. Frying pan, Bitter 1986, 110, fig. 14 (Leiden, 1325-1375)
8. Dripping pan, Bitter et al. forthcoming 2017, entry r-vet-5 (Gouda, 1300-1350)
9. Globular pot, Bitter et al. forthcoming 2017, entry kp-kog-6 (Hoorn, 1275-1290).
table 1 – Fireplace related items found at the Utrecht-Bemuurde Weerd site (R. van Oosten).
table 2 – Ceramic fireplace related items found at two series of houses with central paved hearths
at the Rotterdam-Willemsspoortunnel site, 1280-1325, see note 44. Data retrieved from
Carmiggelt 1997, 143-54, 161-68.
m auro libr enti, cecili a moi ne & la r a sa bbionesi

fig. 1 – The nunnery of San Paolo in Modena: 1. Location of the site. 2. Late 12th-century: the
parish church of San Paolo and two wooden structures built against the city walls, one of them
clearly an artisan’s workshop. 3. Late 15th-century: the temporary location of the nuns. 5. Late
15th-early 16th-century: the nunnery of San Paolo (M. Librenti, C. Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
fig. 2 – Pottery from San Paolo in Modena: the late 15th-century assemblage (M. Librenti, C.
Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
fig. 3 – 15th-century pottery from San Paolo in Modena: 1-6: table ware; 7-10: glazed kitchen ware;
11: coarse ware (M. Librenti, C. Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
fig. 4 – Pottery from San Paolo in Modena: the second half of 16th-century assemblage (M.
Librenti, C. Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
fig. 5 – 16th-century pottery from San Paolo in Modena: 1-3: table ware; 4-6: glazed kitchen
ware; 7-10: coarse ware; 11-12: bowls with obscene decorations (M. Librenti, C. Moine & L.
Sabbionesi).
fig. 6 – Scratched marks on 16th-century pottery from San Paolo in Modena (M. Librenti, C.
Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
a lex a n dr a va n dongen
fig. 1 – Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528), A dining table and jugs (bronze ewer, stoneware jug with
pewter lid and pewter jug) in the sketchbook of his journey through the Netherlands, 1520-1521.
Silverpoint on tinted paper, 115 x 167 mm. London, British Museum, Department of Prints and
Drawings, inv.nr. 1921-7-14-2.
fig. 2 – Embroidered tablecloth (detail) depicting a laid table, with the coat of arms of the Hauser
family, Switzerland, 1527. Embroidered linen, 161,5 x 119 cm, inv. ag 2385, Schweizerisches
Landesmuseum, Zurich.
362

fig. 3 – Serving dish (fragment), fritware, Iznik, Turkey, decorated in a blue spiral pattern called
‘Golden Horn’, 1530-1550, found at De Baan, Enkhuizen, the Netherlands, l. 25 x w. 17 x h. 6,2
cm inv.nr. F 9527 (kn&v), Stichting Het Nederlandse Gebruiksvoorwerp on loan to Museum
Boijmans Van Beuningen Rotterdam.
fig. 4 – Anonymous, Netherlands, Pierre de Moucheron (1508-1567) and his wife Isabeau de Gerbier,
their eighteen children, their son-in-law Allard de la Dale and their first grandson, oil on panel,
h. 108 x l. 246 cm, inv. SK-A-1537, collection Rijksmuseum Amsterdam; cf. https://www.
rijksmuseum.nl/nl/collectie/SK-A-1537.
fig. 5 – Book of Hours, Philip of Cleves (1456 – 1528), ca. 1480, Royal Library, Brussel, ms. iv 40.
These two pages depict cinnamon, nutmeg and asparagus; cf. https://commons.wikimedia.org/
wiki/File:Getijdenboek_Philips_van_Kleef_(1456-1528)_heer_van_Ravenstein.jpg
fig. 6 – Lucas Cranach the Elder, Albrecht van Brandenburg as Saint Hieronymus in his study,
(plus detail), 1525, Darmstadt, Hessisches Landesmuseum, inv. gk 71.
fig. 7 – Serving fork, Italy, brass, ca. 1550, l. 8,3 cm, inv. F 6391 (kn&v), Museum Boijmans Van
Beuningen Rotterdam; cf. http://collectie.boijmans.nl/nl/object/54163/vork/Anoniem.
fig. 8 – Francesco Xanto Avelli (Rovigo ca 1487 – Urbino ca. 1542), Plate depicting The Sword of
Damocles, 1539, inv. T 9 (kn&v), Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen Rotterdam; cf. http://
collectie.boijmans.nl/nl/object/106572/schotel/Francesco-Xanto-Avelli
fig. 9 – Wine goblet, Facon de Venise soda glass, France, 1525-1550, decorated ‘forget-me-not’
flowers with as inscription the adage: tv ne te feras masge taille, h. 15,2 cm, inv. 632
(kn&v), Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen Rotterdam; cf. http://collectie.boijmans.nl/nl/
object/234/kelkglas/Anoniem
fig. 10 – Beaker, enameled and gilded, Syria, 1175-1250, archaeological find Maastricht (Vrijthof ),
h. 15 cm, engraved inscription in Arab lettering: al-shiah, inv. 1988.mavr.46/3-1-58, Centre
Céramique, Maastricht, The Netherlands.
va n v er rocchio
fig. 1 – Map of the Kingdom of Naples, Abruzzi provinces and the investigated area (circle).
Credit: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/62/A._Zatta_-_Il_Regno_di_
Napoli_diviso_nelle_sue_Provincie_-_1782.PNG.
fig. 2 – Map of coastal Abruzzo with the cities of Chieti, Ortona, Penne and Atri: number of
probates inventories analized for urban centres (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 3 – Tablewares by class of material (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 4 – Tablewares: metal objects (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 5 – Tablewares: ceramic objects (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 6 – Tablewares, ceramic objects: provenience and typology. Maiolica (tin-glazed wares)
from Castelli, Faenza and Assisi; earthenwares from Anversa degli Abruzzi and Apulia (V.
Verrocchio).
363

fig. 7 – Kitchen or food storage by class of material (V. Verrocchio).

fig. 8 – Kitchen or food storage: metal, stone and wooden objects (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 9 – Kitchen objects: table with the number of items found with illustration of identified
objects taken from Bartolomeo Scappi’s, Opera, Venice, 1610 (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 10 – Kitchen or food storage: ceramic objects (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 11 – Locally/regional produced lead glazed cooking wares from archaeological sources:
the most common forms (second half of the 16th – 17th centuries). 1-5: little pots; 6-11:
double handed medium and large pots; 12-22: pans and tripod pans; 23-27: casseroles; 28-31:
lids. Provenience: ns. 1-3, 6-7: from Chieti (Verrocchio 2015); ns. 8, 17, 21-22: from Città S.
Angelo (Verrocchio 2002, figs. 44, 46); ns. 9, 26: from Miglianico (Verrocchio 2002, fig. 51);
ns. 10-11, 23-25: from Pescara (Verrocchio 2002, fig. 58); ns. 12-16, 18-20, 28-31: from Penne
(unpublished).
fig. 12 – Castelli Maiolica from archaeological sources: the most common forms (second half of
the 16th-17th centuries). 1-5. Cups and lobed cups; 6-10. Little plates; 11-17. Plates and large
deep plates; 18-20. Bowls; 21-25. Jugs; 26. Pitcher; 27. Double handled flask; 28. Ewer; 29. Bottle;
30-32. Albarelli and micro albarelli (spices/ointment pots); 33-35. Salts; 36-37. Lids; 38-39.
Alzate (fruit dishes); 40-41. Pots; 42-43. Hand washing bassins. Provenience: ns. 1-3, 24-25:
from Pescara (unpublished); ns. 4-7, 11-13, 15-19, 21-23, 26-27, 32-33, 40-41: from Castel Frentano
(Chieti) (Troiano and Verrocchio 2002, figs. 200-201); ns. 8-9, 14, 20, 28, 30, 31, 34-39, 42-43:
from Castelli (de Pompeis et al. 1989, tabs. iii-ix).
fig. 13 – Chieti, Roman Theatre, excavations in 2003, ‘Saggio 3’, usa 27 (ca. 1530/40 – 1620)
(V. Verrocchio).
fig. 14 – Chieti, Roman Theatre, excavations in 2003. Examples of Maiolica plates with pseudo-
heraldic coat of arms (1-3) and merchant’s marks (4-5). Produced in Castelli, 17th century
(V. Verrocchio).
fig. 15 – Chieti, examples of Maiolica plates with commercial and merchant’s marks found in urban
fig. 16 – Some examples of commercial marks (signa) of merchants living in Chieti in the second
half of the 16th – beginning of the 17th centuries from the archivial sources. 1. belongs to
Battista Morone; 2. Francesco Vascellino; 3. Orazio Vascellino, all from Bergamo; 4. Ascanio
Santese (source: elaboration from seals used in notary records, in State Archive, Chieti)
(V. Verrocchio).
fig. 17 – Chieti, examples of Maiolica plates with pseudo-heraldic coat of arms found in urban
fig. 18 – Abruzzo, other examples of pseudo-heraldic coat of arms on Castelli Maiolica plates
found in archaeological contexts: 1-2, L’Aquila, Convent of S. Domenico (from Verrocchio
2011, figs. 100b-101b); 3, from Teramo (from Proterra, Troiano and Verrocchio 2005, fig. 35); 4,
from the Castle of Scurcola Marsicana (L’Aquila, unpublished) (V. Verrocchio).
364

table 1 – List of the 94 probate inventories. Abreviations: asch, State Archive of Chieti; aste,
State Archive of Teramo; aspe, State Archive of Pescara (V. Verrocchio).
table 2 – List of food products and related vessels made in different materials (V. Verrocchio).
filiz y en ışehır lıoğlu

fig. 1 – 1a: Ottoman miniature painting from a late 16th-century Turkish album of miniatures
and calligraphy showing men drinking coffee, Chester Beatty Library, Dublin, MS4137.9 (after
Pekin 2015, 124). – 1b: Detail.
fig. 2 – Ottoman miniature painting of court page, 17th-century album page, TSMKE.H.2836 fol.
7b (after Atasoy and Raby 1989, 36, fig. 21).
fig. 3 – Ottoman coffee cup, 16th century, Iznik Archaeological Museum (after Atasoy and Raby
1989, 36, fig. 19).
fig. 4a – Chinese coffee cups, late 16th and 17th century (after Pekin 2015, 363).
fig. 4b – Chinese coffee cups, 17th century (after Pekin 2015, 364).
fig. 5 – Kütahya coffee cups, 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 81a).
fig. 6 – Ottoman coffee cup and saucer, Victoria and Albert Museum, no. 605&A-1874 (after
Kürkman 2005, 81b).
fig. 7a – Kütahya coffee cup and saucer, 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 133).
fig. 7b – Kütahya coffee cup and saucer, 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 131).
fig. 8 – Meissen chocolate cup, 1730-1740; see www.meissen.com/en/products/chocolate-cup-and-
saucer-historical-meissen%C2%AE
fig. 9 – Meissen cup, 1730-1740; see www.meissen.com/en/historical-pieces/cups
figs. 10a-f – Kütahya coffee cups, 18th century, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns
Excavations (F. Yenişehirlioğlu).
figs. 11a-b – Chinese Porcelain cups, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns Excavations
figs. 12a-b – Meissen Porcelain, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns Excavations (F.
Yenişehirlioğlu).
figs. 13a-c – Kütahya coffee cups with imitated Meissen sign, excavated from the Tekfur Palace
Ottoman Kilns Excavations (F. Yenişehirlioğlu).
figs. 14a-b – Meissen coffee cups, excavated from the Tekfur Palace Ottoman Kilns Excavations (F.
Yenişehirlioğlu).
fig. 15 – Kütahya coffee cup holders (zarf ), 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 135).
fig. 16 – Chinese coffee cup holder (zarf ) (after Pekin 2015, 364).
fig. 17 – Meissen coffee cup holder (zarf ) (after Pekin 2015, figs. 50-51).
claudi a va n depoel
fig. 1 – All the ingredients were collected for cooking (C. Vandepoel).
365

fig. 2 – The chicken has been cooked and chopped very fine. The breadcrumbs have been prepared,
and the egg whites have been separated from the yolks (C. Vandepoel).
fig. 3 – Start with two ingredients, cream and almond crumbs, which were put together. Then the
fine chicken has been put into the bowl, and the egg whites have been added. Everything was
mixed, and then heated in the bowl until the substance thickened and became very hot (C.
Vandepoel).
fig. 4 – When cooled down, the rosewater was added, and the paste was put into several forms/
moulds to cool down. Afterwards, these forms/moulds were put on top of each other in order
to make a pile (C. Vandepoel).
fig. 5 – Finally: Blanc Manger (Tudor version), decorated with almonds – enjoy! (C. Vandepoel).
joa n ita v room, mi nk va n ijzen door n

m a rten va n n ieu w koop & k ateli n post
fig. 1 – Example of interview form used in 2014 ( J. Vroom et alii).
figs. 2a-c – The ‘Byzantine food lab’ at the Crafts Market in 2014 (Z. Rico Neves; P. Rush).
fig. 3 – Number of visitors per age group ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 4a – Average rating on a scale of 1 to 5 ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 4b – Average per drink on a scale of 1 to 5 ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 4c – Average per dish on a scale of 1 to 5 ( J. Vroom et alii).
figs. 5a-b – Results of question 8: Would you consume the recipes again? ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 6a – Example of recognized ingredients in drinks ( J. Vroom et alii).
fig. 6b – Example of recognized ingredients in dishes ( J. Vroom et alii).
table 1 – Typical Byzantine diet in 13th-century north-western Turkey based on archaeological
and historical evidence (after Çağlar et al. 2007, 1144).
table 2a – Number of people who drank the drinks or not ( J. Vroom et alii).
table 2b – Number of people who ate the dishes or not ( J. Vroom et alii).
table 3a – Drinks – social classes ( J. Vroom et alii).
table 3b – Dishes – social classes ( J. Vroom et alii).
366

* * *
Index of geographical names

*
Albania 146, 165, 206 Italy 8-10, 15-16, 20, 153-66, 223, 226, 232-33, 249,
Almería (Spain) 16, 49, 50, 357, 371 257-59, 265, 270, 319, 357, 363, 387
Amsterdam (Netherlands) 198, 208-9, 363, 385 Iznik (Turkey) 16, 247-48, 293, 295, 357, 363, 365
Arce (Israel) 11, 126, 128-130, 153, 161, 167-68, 380 Jerusalem (Israel) 167-68, 185, 361, 380
Athens (Greece) 16, 19, 145-46, 148, 150, 153-55, Kütahya (Turkey) 16, 293, 295, 298, 306-8, 357
161-66, 175, 176, 357, 360 Leiden (Netherlands) 7, 9-11, 16, 22, 81, 146, 206,
Butrint (Albania) 145-46, 153, 165, 206 208, 219, 323, 329, 331, 337-339, 357, 361, 366
Castelli (Italy) 16, 261, 263-65, 269-71, 283-85, 357 Milan (Italy) 231, 258, 267-68
Chalkis (Greece) 16, 152, 165, 357 Modena (Italy) 16, 20, 223-27, 229, 238, 242-4
Chieti (Italy) 16, 258-60, 263-64, 266-71, 279, Naples (Italy) 258-59, 267, 269, 278, 363
282-85, 288, 357, 363-65, 392 Netherlands/Low Countries 14, 16, 19, 22, 187,
China 26-27, 49, 50, 68, 248, 261, 293, 297-99 193, 195, 197, 199-201, 206-7, 209, 219, 246-
Constantinople 11, 185, 339, 361, 379 47, 250, 255, 300-1, 317, 320, 323, 336, 338-39
Cordoba 16, 37, 49-50, 59, 62, 251, 357-58, 371 Nicosia (Cyprus) 16, 120, 125, 130-31, 357
Corinth (Greece) 10, 16, 145, 149, 152-54, 158, Otrona (Italy) 16, 258, 260, 269, 279, 288, 357, 363
162, 167, 189, 357 Paphos (Cyprus) 16, 119-30, 137, 140-41, 357, 360
Crete (Greece) 154, 167, 353 Phini (Cyprus) 16, 125, 127, 131, 357
Cyprus 8, 10, 16, 18-19, 25-26, 119, 124, 126-28, 131, Pisa (Italy) 153, 159
157, 167, 296, 357, 360, 376 Polis (Cyprus) 16, 121, 126, 249, 296, 357
Damascus (Syria) 21, 25, 292 Rome (Italy) 157, 257, 267, 270
Egypt 69, 76, 85, 100, 250 Rotterdam (Netherlands) 16, 20, 182, 198-200,
England 200, 301, 312, 315, 318 202-3, 204, 207-10, 219, 245, 252, 357, 361-63
Ephesus (Turkey) 17, 146, 153, 165, 186 Sicily (Italy) 26, 28
Florence (Italy) 146, 153-54, 257, 267 Spain 7-9, 16, 25-26, 28, 69, 153-54, 160, 162, 168,
France 9, 84-85, 167, 185, 250, 296, 300-1, 319, 361 187, 251, 258-59, 315, 357
Germany 200, 202, 207, 209, 250, 295-301, 319 Syria 9, 66-67, 69, 76, 250, 300, 363, 388
Granada (Spain) 7-8, 16, 37-46, 48-51, 357, 371 Tarsus (Turkey) 7, 16, 18, 63-68, 71, 77, 79, 83, 90-
Greece 10, 16, 26, 28, 145-47, 150, 154, 158, 160-61, 93, 96-101, 104-8, 113-15, 146, 357, 358-59
165, 250, 297, 326-38, 357, Tunisia 69, 83, 359, 372
Gritille (Turkey) 16, 103, 357 Utrecht (Netherlands) 11, 16, 195-96, 197-98,
Israel 8, 10, 19, 69, 128, 158, 160-61 200, 202-3, 207-8, 218, 339, 357, 361-62
Istanbul (Turkey) 7, 11-13, 16, 21-22, 65, 82, 97, Venice (Italy) 8, 10, 26, 153, 238, 249-50, 258-59,
266, 292-95, 297-98, 300-1, 338, 357 267-68, 296, 364, 391
367

* * *
Index of food
*
Alcohol 35, 330, 333, 336, 340-41 Meat 18, 21, 26-28, 41, 71, 72-74, 75, 77, 79-80,
Barley 330, 334-35 99-102, 104-6, 155-58, 160, 181-82, 185-86, 195-
Beef 104, 248, 340 96, 199, 202-6, 247-49, 311, 314-16, 326-27,
Bird 98-99, 104, 108, 156, 186, 246, 248, 312, 315, 326 329, 333-36, 340-41, 378, 391
Bread 17, 39-41, 46, 72-74, 78, 157-58, 160, 187-88, Milk 27-29, 74, 155, 182, 297, 299, 311-13, 315, 317,
199, 235, 246, 248-49, 262, 289, 313-14, 316, 326-27, 329-30, 334-35
318, 325, 327, 334, 366, 397 Mutton 27, 104
Butter 73-74, 326-27, 335 Nut 84, 157, 246, 262, 289, 326-27, 334-35
Camel 26, 78, 102 Oil 44, 46-47, 84, 166, 262-63, 289, 315, 326-27,
Cereal 73, 79, 333 330, 335, 378
Cheese 157, 262, 289, 326-27, 335, 340, 378, 390-91 Olive 166, 248, 262-63, 289, 315, 326-27, 330, 335
Chicken 21, 27, 29, 74, 99, 156-57, 159, 163, 294, Pig/pork 27, 35, 36, 98-99, 101, 103, 105, 108, 155,
311-13, 315-17, 326, 327, 366, 378, 397-98 159, 199, 206, 208, 326-27, 329, 390-91
Coffee 21, 291-301 Plant 74, 78, 80, 336, 338
Cow 28, 199, 208 Poultry 26, 104, 108, 156, 246, 248, 312, 315
Deer 98, 108 Salt 41, 74, 151, 157, 160, 204, 261-63, 283, 289,
Dairy 101-2, 182, 326-27, 335, 341 326, 330, 364, 378
Donkey 105, 108, 127 Sheep 27, 98-103, 105, 108,115, 155, 199, 208, 326-
Egg 27, 74, 127, 156, 163, 182, 248, 313, 315-16, 327, 27, 335, 359
330, 366, 378, 397-98 Shell/shellfish 166, 327
Fish 26, 28, 98-100, 104-8, 151, 157, 159, 161, 182, Spices, spiced 11, 26, 29, 41, 74, 151, 156-58, 160-61,
199-201, 203, 205, 208-209, 262, 267, 289, 163, 208, 224, 247-48, 262-63, 283, 289, 312-
314, 319, 326-27, 329, 333, 335, 340, 378 13, 330-31, 333, 336, 339, 354, 364, 378
Fruit 26-29, 75, 127, 158, 163, 246-48, 262, 283, Sugar 26-27, 29, 74, 84, 156-58, 163, 167, 262-63,
289-94, 317, 326-27, 329, 333, 335-36, 364 289, 297, 311-13, 315-17, 319, 327, 330, 333, 341,
Goat 98-105, 108, 115, 155, 199, 208, 326-27, 335, 359 378
Grape 158, 167, 246, 291, 315, 327, 329 Tea 297-301
Grain 73-74, 84, 127, 199, 248, 326, 330 Vegetable 73-74, 156-57, 194, 199, 326-27, 333-36
Herbs 157, 163, 208 Vinegar 73-74, 262, 289, 327, 330-31, 333-34, 378
Honey 26, 46, 157, 262, 289, 326-27, 329-331, Wheat 27-28, 35, 73-74, 158, 326, 330, 335
333-35, 378 Wine 20, 28-29, 36, 71, 122, 127, 158-59, 161, 183,
Juice 26-27, 294, 329-30 187-88, 246, 248-51, 262, 289, 313, 315, 326-27,
Legume 41, 127, 326-27, 330, 334-36 330-31, 333-35, 339-40, 363, 378, 388
368

* * *
Colour plates
*

josé c. carvajal lópez & miguel jiménez puertas – Cuisine, islamisation and ceramics
fig. 1 – colour plates page 371.
yasemin bağci & joanita vroom – Dining habits in Tarsus in the Early Islamic period
figs. 4a-b, 5, 6, 7 – colour plates pages 372-374.
lubna omar – Approaching Medieval cuisine

ruth smadar gabrieli et alii – Cypriot and Levantine cooking wares in Frankish Cyprus
figs. 1, 19, 11, 12 – colour plates pages 376-377.
joanita vroom & elli tzavella – Dinner time in Athens

figs. 1, 6d, 7, 9, 10, 11 – colour plates pages 378-380.
roos van oosten – A Medieval cooking revolution

mauro librenti, cecilia moine & lara sabbionesi – From table to identity
figs. 3, 5 – colour plates pages 382-383.
alexandra van dongen – Global dining with Erasmus

figs. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 – colour plates pages 384-388.
van verrocchio – Material culture in Early Modern Abruzzo, Italy

figs. 4, 6, 9, 10, 17, 18 – colour plates pages 389-392.
filiz yenişehirlioğlu – A journey of taste

figs. 1a-b, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7a-b – colour plates pages 393-396.
claudia vandepoel – Blanc Manger

figs. 1, 2, 3, 4 – colour plates pages 397-398.
joanita vroom et alii – A matter of taste

figs. 2a-c – colour plates page 399.
370

c a rvaja l l ópe z & j i m é n e z pu e rta s – c u i s i n e , i sl a m i s at ion a n d c e r a m ic s
fig. 1 – Map with the location of sites mentioned in the text: 1. Shaqūnda, Cordoba; 2. Marroquíes
Bajos, Jaén; Manzanil in Loja, Granada; 4. Ilbīra in Atarfe, Granada; 5. El Castillejo de Nívar, Grana-
da; 6. El Castillejo de Los Guájares, Granada; 7. Bajjāna, Almería; 8 and 9. Monte Marinet and Monte
Mollet respectively, Castellón de la Plana. 10. Santa Fe de Oliva, Valencia ( J.C. Carvajal López, M.
Jiménez Puertas).
371

b ağ c i & v ro om – di n i ng h a bi t s i n ta r s us
fig. 4a – left: Lustreware bowl from the Harvey Plotnick Collection, University of Chicago (after
Pancaroğlu 2007, 46, fig. 5); right: Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware bowl from the Gözlükule
Mound excavations, Tarsus (Y. Bağcı, J. Vroom).
fig. 4b – left: Lustreware tile of the Great Mosque of Karaiwan (also: al-Qayrawan), Tunisia;
right: Polychrome Painted Glazed Ware bowl from the Gözlükule Mound excavations, Tarsus (Y.
Bağcı, J. Vroom)
372

fig. 5 – Pseudo-Galen, Kitab al-Diryaq, Iraq, 1199, ms. Arabe 2964, old page 22, Bibliothèque Natio-
nale, Paris (after Ettinghausen 1972, 84).
fig. 6 – Al-Hariri, Maqamat, Iraq, 1237, ms. Arabe 5847, fol.140r., Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris (after
Grabar 1984, 96).
373

fig. 7 – Al-Hariri, Maqamat, Iraq, c. 1240s, ms. C-23, p.205, fol.103v., Institute of Oriental Manu-
scripts of the Russian Academy of Science, Saint Petersburg (after Petrosyan 1995, 151).
374

fig. 3 – Distribution of ovis/capra’s skeletal elements from the Gözlüküle Mound, Tarsus (L. Omar).
fig. 4 – Distribution of cattle’s skeletal elements from the Gözlüküle Mound, Tarsus (L. Omar).
375

ga br i eli, wa k sm a n, sh a piro & pecci – c y pr iot a n d leva n ti n e cook i ng wa r es
fig. 1 – Map of Cyprus (after Waksman 2014, fig. 1).
fig. 10 – Microphotograph of cooking pot bzy616: Q – quartz, Pl – plagioclase, Ol – olivine

(crossed-polarized light) (A. Shapiro).
376

ga br i eli, wa k sm a n, sh a piro & pecci – c y pr iot a n d leva n ti n e cook i ng wa r es
fig. 11 – Microphotograph of cooking pot bzy618: Q – quartz, Ch – chert (crossed-polarized light)

(A. Shapiro).
fig. 12 – Microphotograph of cooking pot bzy692: Fe – alkali feldspar, Clp – clinopyroxene, Mi –

mica (crossed-polarized light) (A. Shapiro)
377

v ro om & t z av e l l a – di n n e r t i m e i n At h e ns
18
16
14
12
10 Ingredients
8
6
4
2
0
meat vinegar oil salt garum honey fish wine pepper grains
70
60
50
40
Ingredients
30
20
10
0
spices eggs sugar almonds lard cloves saffron cheese ginger chicken
fig. 1 – Ten most used ingredients in Byzantine (top) and Medieval Italian (bottom) recipes (J. Vroom).
Late Medieval Pottery Types
1 Zeuxippus subtype (9.8%)

5
44 Veneto Ware (2%)
9
99 7 Spanish Lustreware (1.6%)
7
Glazed thin CW (1.6%)
Unglazed Domestic Wares (50%)
Monochrome Sgraffito (1.1%)
Polychrome Sgraffito (0.4%)

45
Maiolica (0.2%)
1 Monochrome Glazed Ware (10%)

2
5 Ibriq (22%)
225
Green Stripe Painted (Arta) (0.2%)
Monochrome Glazed (Mod) (1.1%)
fig. 6d – Athenian Agora: d. graph of the total of pottery types in well U14:1 ( J. Vroom, E. Tzavella).
378

fig. 7 – Athenian Agora: composition image of glazed and unglazed ceramic finds from well U14:1
( J. Vroom).
fig. 9 – Miniature from an illustrated paper edition of the Book of Job with Commentaries, Ms. Grec.
135, fol. 18v, ‘Festin des enfants de Job’, ca. 1361-1362, signed by Manuel Tzykandyles of Mystra, Con-
stantinople or Mystra, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Paris.
379

fig. 10 – Miniature from Bible from Saint-Jean d’Acre, Arsenal Bible MS 5211, fol. 364v, ‘Marriage of
Naomi’s sons with Ruth and Orpah’, Book of Ruth, Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem (Acre), ca. 1250-1254,
Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal, Paris.
fig. 11 – Miniature from Fécamp Psalter, Manuscript 76 F13, folio 1v, ‘Janus’, north-eastern France, ca.
1180, Koninklijke Bibliotheek, The Hague.
380

va n o os t e n – a m e di e va l co ok i ng r e volu t ion
fig. 4 – Historical cooking experiments: a) a replica pot in a fire of wooden logs; b) the post-fire
replica pot; notice that the pot is sooty only where the flames touched the pot; c) replica pots in a
smouldering charcoal fire; d) one of the post-fire replica pots; notice that the pot shows no sign of any
soot (R. van Oosten).
381

l i br e n t i , moi n e & s a bbion e s i – f rom ta bl e to i de n t i t y
11: coarse ware (M. Librenti, C. Moine, L. Sabbionesi).
382

l i br e n t i , moi n e & s a bbion e s i – f rom ta bl e to i de n t i t y
7-10: coarse ware; 11-12: bowls with obscene decorations (M. Librenti, C. Moine & L. Sabbionesi).
383

fig. 3 – Serving dish (fragment), fritware, Iznik, Turkey, decorated in a blue spiral pattern called
‘Golden Horn’, 1530-1550, found at De Baan, Enkhuizen, the Netherlands, l. 25 x w. 17 x h. 6,2 cm inv.
nr. F 9527 (kn&v), Stichting Het Nederlandse Gebruiksvoorwerp on loan to Museum Boijmans Van
Beuningen Rotterdam.
384

fig. 4 – Anonymous, Netherlands, Pierre de Moucheron (1508-1567) and his wife Isabeau de Gerbier,
their eighteen children, their son-in-law Allard de la Dale and their first grandson, oil on panel, h. 108
x l. 246 cm, inv. SK-A-1537, collection Rijksmuseum Amsterdam; cf. https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/
nl/collectie/SK-A-1537
fig. 5 – Book of Hours, Philip of Cleves (1456 – 1528), ca. 1480, Royal Library, Brussel, ms. iv 40.
These two pages depict cinnamon, nutmeg and asparagus; cf. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/
File:Getijdenboek_Philips_van_Kleef_(1456-1528)_heer_van_Ravenstein.jpg
385

fig. 6 – Lucas Cranach the Elder, Albrecht van Brandenburg as Saint Hieronymus in his study (plus
detail), 1525, Darmstadt, Hessisches Landesmuseum, inv. GK 71.
386

fig. 7 – Serving fork, Italy, brass, ca. 1550, l. 8,3 cm, inv. F 6391 (kn&v), Museum Boijmans Van Beu-
ningen Rotterdam;p cf. http://collectie.boijmans.nl/nl/object/54163/vork/Anoniem
fig. 8 – Francesco Xanto Avelli (Rovigo ca 1487 – Urbino ca. 1542), Plate depicting The Sword of
Damocles, 1539, inv. T 9 (kn&v), Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen Rotterdam; cf. http://collectie.
boijmans.nl/nl/object/106572/schotel/Francesco-Xanto-Avelli
387

fig. 9 – Wine goblet, Facon de Venise soda glass, France, 1525-1550, decorated ‘forget-me-not’ flowers
with as inscription the adage: TV NE TE FERAS MASGE TAILLE, h. 15,2 cm, inv. 632 (kn&v),
Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen Rotterdam; cf. http://collectie.boijmans.nl/nl/object/234/
kelkglas/Anoniem
fig. 10 – Beaker, enameled and gilded, Syria, 1175-1250, archaeological find Maastricht (Vrijthof ), h. 15
cm, engraved inscription in Arab lettering: AL-SHIAH, inv. 1988.MAVR.46/3-1-58, Centre Céram-
ique, Maastricht, the Netherlands.
388

v e r ro cc h io – m at e r i a l c u lt u r e i n e a r ly mode r n a bru z z o, i ta ly
fig. 4 – Tablewares: metal objects (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 6 – Tablewares, ceramic objects: provenience and typology. Maiolica (tin-glazed wares) from
Castelli, Faenza and Assisi; earthenwares from Anversa degli Abruzzi and Apulia (V. Verrocchio).
389

METAL KITCHEN ITEMS NOBLES CITIZENS CRAFTSMEN

Alambicchi (stills) 1 7
Bastardelle (pots) 8
Bronzi (pots) 3 5
Caldaie (cauldrons) 99 177 17
Cavanelli (pots) 7
Coccomi (pots/jugs) 7 6
Coltelli/mannaie (knives) 4 6
Conche (bowls) 24 24
Coperchi (lids) 40 38 2
Cucchiai (spoons) 33 44 8
ferri da nevole/ostie/pizzelle (wafer tools) 8
Fersore (frying pans) 37 56 8
Forchette (forks) 4 4 1
Ghiotte (fat collectors) 3 1
Graticole (grills) 14 26 5
Grattacacio (cheese graters) 13 26 5
Imbuti (funnels) 6 10
Ingorda (fat collector) 1
Introvatori (funnels?) 1
Lapaioli/lapei (cauldrons) 13 6
Leccarde (fat collectors) 2
Maccaronari (tools for macaroni) 7
Manieri (ladles) 5 12 1
Mortai (mortars) 15 12 1
Orologio da arrosto (grill watch) 1
Padelle (frying pans) 2 32
Passatoi (strainers) 2 3
Pezzetti (little pots) 3
Pignate (cooking pots) 11 11 1
Polzonetti (tripod pans) 18 21
Pratene (tranchers) 1
Quartarone (pots) 1
Ramette/ramine/ramiere (copper pots) 21
Secchietti (small buckets) 6
Scaldacacio (cheese warmers) 1
Scaldavivande (dish warmers) 1
Scommarelli (ladles) 7 3 1
Spiedi (spits) 68 77 18
Spiediere/trepiedi da spiedo (spits stands) 4 4
Stainetti/stagnate (pots?) 4
Testi (fire cooking lids) 2
Tielle (pans) 35 26 1
Tiane (soucepans) 3
Tragni (buckets) 18 36 2
Trocchi (large buckets) 1
Voltarrosto (spit machine) 1
390

ATTREZZI DA FOCOLARE (FIRE TOOLS)

Cacciacarne (meat forks) 1
Catene da fuoco (fire chains) 21 59 8
Capifuochi (head cooks) 104 120 8
Cavacenere/cavabrace (ash/embers takers) 1 1 1
Mollette (tongs) 3 3
Palette (fireside shovels) 15 23 6
Soffiatore/soffietto da forno (bellows) 1 3
Tenaglie da fuoco (pincers) 8 20 6
Trepiedi (tripods) 20 24 3
Trepiedi da caldaie (cauldron tripods) 2 5
Trepiedi da tegami/padelle (pans tripods) 1 6
Guardacenere (ash keepers) 3 8
Tirafuoco/tirabrace (pokers) 4 1
Uncini da fuoco (fire hooks) 3
Zampino da fuoco (fire hook) 1
fig. 9 – Kitchen objects: table with the number of items found with illustration of identified objects
taken from Bartolomeo Scappi’s, Opera, Venice, 1610 (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 10 – Kitchen or food storage: ceramic objects (V. Verrocchio).
391

fig. 17 – Chieti, exemples of majolica plates with pseudo-heraldic coat of arms found in urban exca-
vations. Produced in Castelli, 17th century (V. Verrocchio).
fig. 18 – Abruzzo. Other exemples of pseudo-heraldic coat of arms on Castelli majolica plates found
in archaeological contexts: 1-2, L’Aquila, Convent of S. Domenico (from Verrocchio 2011, figs.
100b-101b); 3, from Teramo (from Proterra, Troiano and Verrocchio 2005, fig. 35); 4, from the Castle
of Scurcola Marsicana (L’Aquila, unpublished) (V. Verrocchio).
392

fig. 1a – Ottoman miniature painting from a late 16th-century Turkish album of miniatures and callig-
raphy showing men drinking coffee, Chester Beatty Library, Dublin, MS4137.9 (after Pekin 2015, 124).
fig. 1b – Detail of Fig. 1a.
393

fig. 2 – Ottoman miniature painting of court page, 17th-century album page, TSMKE.H.2836 fol.
7b (after Atasoy and Raby 1989, 36, fig. 21).
fig. 3 – Ottoman coffee cup, 16th century, Iznik Archaeological Museum (after Atasoy and Raby
1989, 36, fig. 19).
394

fig. 5 – Kütahya coffee cups, 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 81a).
fig. 6 – Ottoman coffee cup and saucer, Victoria and Albert Museum, no. 605&A-1874 (after Kürk-
man 2005, 81b).
395

fig. 7a – Kütahya coffee cup and saucer, 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 133).
fig. 7b – Kütahya coffee cup and saucer, 18th century (after Kürkman 2005, 131).
396

va n de p oe l – bl a nc m a ng e r , co ok i ng a h i s tor ic a l r ec i pe
fig. 1 – All the ingredients were collected for cooking (C. Vandepoel).
fig. 2 – The chicken has been cooked and chopped very fine. The breadcrumbs have been prepared,
and the egg whites have been separated from the yolks (C. Vandepoel).
397

va n de p oe l – bl a nc m a ng e r , co ok i ng a h i s tor ic a l r ec i pe
fig. 3 – Start with two ingredients, cream and almond crumbs, which were put together. Then the fine
chicken has been put into the bowl, and the egg whites have been added. Everything was mixed, and
then heated in the bowl until the substance thickened and became very hot (C. Vandepoel).
fig. 4 – When cooled down, the rosewater was added, and the paste was put into several forms/
moulds to cool down. Afterwards, these forms/moulds were put on top of each other in order to make
a pile (C. Vandepoel).
398

Figs. 2a-c – The ‘Byzantine food lab’ at the Crafts Market in 2014 (Z. Rico Neves; P. Rush).
399

* * *
r eserv ed h a r e i n bor der ed gouged ton do
*
Champlevé Ware bowl from Skopelos, ca. late 12th-mid 13th century.
After P. Armstrong, ‘A group of Byantine bowls from Skopelos’,
Oxford Journal of Archaeology 10.3 (1991), fig. 5
cf. J. Vroom, Byzantine to Modern Pottery in the Aegean: An Introduction and Field Guide
(2nd rev. ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), p. 92.


(Medieval and Post-Medieval Mediterranean Archaeology) Roos Van Oosten - Medieval Masterchef_ Archaeological and Historical Perspectives on Eastern Cuisine and Western Foodways-Brepols Publishers (201

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

(Medieval and Post-Medieval Mediterranean Archaeology) Roos Van Oosten - Medieval Masterchef_ Archaeological and Historical Perspectives on Eastern Cuisine and Western Foodways-Brepols Publishers (201

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

m e di e va l m a st e rch e f

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 1 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 2 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 3 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 4 28-04-17 11:05

joa nita v room, yona wa ksm a n & roos va n oosten – Preface 13

josé c. carvaja l lópez & miguel jiménez puertas 33

yasemin baĞci & joa nita v room 63

ruth sm a dar ga br ieli, yona wa ksm a n, 119

joa nita v room & elli tzavella 145

joh a n na m ar i a va n w inter 181

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 5 28-04-17 11:05

roos va n oosten 193

m auro libr enti, cecili a moine & lar a sa bbionesi 223

a lex a ndr a va n dongen 245

va n ver rocchio 257

filiz yenişehir lioğlu 291

claudi a va ndepoel 311

joa nita v room, mink va n ijzendoor n, 323

m ary c. beaudry 353

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 6 28-04-17 11:05

mary c. beaudry is Professor of Archaeology, Anthropology, and Gastronomy at Boston Univer-

jose c. carvajal lópez is Lecturer in Islamic Archaeology at UCL Qatar. By training he is a

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 7 28-04-17 11:05

mauro librenti is a professor of Post-Medieval Archaeology at Ca’ Foscari University, Venice

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 8 28-04-17 11:05

alessandra pecci is a ‘Ramón y Cajal’ researcher at eraaub, Departamento de Historia i Ar-

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 9 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 10 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 11 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 12 28-04-17 11:05

Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 13-22 © 13

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 13 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 14 28-04-17 11:05

or are similar developments also visible elsewhere in Medieval and Post-Medieval

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 15 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 16 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 17 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 18 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 19 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 20 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 21 28-04-17 11:05

Finally, the distinguished gastronomic archaeologist Mary C. Beaudry rounds up

1 We would like to thank the Netherlands / Fransız Anadolu Araştırmaları Enstitüsü

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 22 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 23 28-04-17 11:05

pr epa r i ng medici ne from honey

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 24 28-04-17 11:05

Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 25-32 © 25

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 25 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 26 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 27 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 28 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 29 28-04-17 11:05

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 30 28-04-17 11:05

André, J. 1961. L’alimentation et la cuisine à Rome, Paris.

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 31 28-04-17 11:05

Plouvier, L. 1988. La confiserie européenne au Moyen Age, Medium Aevum Quotidi-

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 32 28-04-17 11:05

Cuisine, islamisation and ceramics

i n t roduct ion: cu lt u r a l ch a nge a n d cu isi n e

Series ii (Turnhout, 2017), pp. 33-62 (+ plates p. 371) © 33

Medieval masterchef boek 3.indd 33 28-04-17 11:05

isl a m isat ion