[1] V. Must be dried before boiling because the cold water clinging to the stalks is likely to chill the boiling water too much in which the asparagus is to be cooked. Apicius here reveals himself as the consummate cook who is familiar with the finest detail of physical and chemical changes which food undergoes at varying temperatures.

The various editions all agree: _asparagos siccabis_; Schuch, however, says: "For the insane _siccabis_ I substitute _siciabis_, _isiciabis_, prepare with _sicio_ [?] and cook." He even goes on to interpret it _cucabis_ from the Greek _kouki_, cocoanut milk, and infers that the asparagus was first cooked in cocoanut milk and then put back into water, a method we are tempted to pronounce insane.

Cooking and Dining in Imperial Rome — Part 72

[2] V. Backwards! G.-V. _rursum in calidam_; Tac. _rursus in aquam calidam_; Tor. _ac rursus ..._

Cooking and Dining in Imperial Rome — Part 72

This word has caused us some reflection, but the ensuing discovery made it worth while. _Rursus_ has escaped the attention of the other commentators. In this case _rursus_ means backwards, being a contraction from _revorsum_, h.e. _reversum_. The word is important enough to be observed.

Cooking and Dining in Imperial Rome — Part 72

Apicius evidently has the right way of cooking the fine asparagus. The stalks, after being peeled and washed must be bunched together and tied according to sizes, and the bunches must be set into the boiling water "backwards," that is, they must stand upright with the heads protruding from the water. The heads will be made tender above the water line by rising steam and will be done simultaneously with the harder parts of the stalks. We admit, we have never seen a modern cook observe this method. They usually boil the tender heads to death while the lower stalks are still hard.

Though this formula is incomplete (it fails to state the sauce to be served, also that the asparagus must be peeled and bunched, that the water must contain salt, etc.) it is one of the neatest formulæ in Apicius. It is amusing to note how the author herein unconsciously reveals what a poor litérateur but what a fine cook he is. This is characteristic of most good practitioners. One may perfectly master the vast subject of cookery, yet one may not be able to give a definition of even a single term, let alone the ability to exactly describe one of the many processes of cookery. Real poets often are in the same predicament; none of them ever explained the art satisfactorily.