Put on your bacon-helmets and prepare to take a Incredible Journey through the world of bacchanalian excess and Paleo-era cholesterol bombs – we’re talking Ancient Roman feasting!
These were the OGs of gluttony before gluttony was co-opted by Modern gargantuan appetites and rental bouncy houses at kid parties. The Romans took pounding pork products and splurging on sauces to deliriously decadent levels that would make a horde of Viking warriors say “yo, chill bro.”
The decadence began at the loftiest levels, where Emperors and Patricians spared no expense in their quest to delight but ultimately destroy their digestive systems in a whirlwind tour de force culinary achievement. No sacred placenta or fetal delicacy was off the menu in their quest to achieve coveted “corpulent” status.
The muckety-mucks of Roman high society were the original “founders” (pun partially intended) of the now-fashionable low-FODMAP diet. Gluttons for gluten? Ha! These cats practically banished wheat from their lavish spreads in service of their nasty penchant for meat-sweats and self-induced Visigoth belly.
Rather than healthy fiber and legumes, the privileged pudgies loaded up on such gout-tingling treats as:
Sumen – That’s cured pig’s teets and intestines to you, pleb. A digestible delicacy straight outta Tartarus!
Porcus Truffatus – Quite possibly the world’s original turducken-style monstrosity…stuffed with a pig stuffed with live thrushes! High-brow hazing at its finest.
Liquamen – A fermented fish sauce so delightfully pungent it could spur spontaneous vomiting fits to accommodate more eating. The Roman’s humble take on salt and vinegar chips.
Of course, we’d be remiss not to mention an innovation so elite it makes Sol-fired pizza ovens look down-market – the ancient vomitorium. No, not that Seattle grunge band, the dedicated puke rooms where elite guests could relieve alimentary engorgemment and still pursue interminable emesis. What’s one night of Netflix and bulimia between friends?
Naturally, these multi-course blowouts required industrial-scale kitchen prep fit for the Carthaginian invasion. Giant slabs of patio seating hosted roving herds of servants scrambling to supply delicacies and flamingo tongues smothered in butter. Perhaps America’s founding infrastructure planners were inspired by the traffic flow logistics of Roman bacchanalia.
So next time you’re feeling morbidly obese after a few chalices of Chianti at the Olive Garden, take comfort in the fact that Ancient Rome quite literally defined the art of gut-busting dietary sadism. Our modern a la carte choices seem downright merciful in comparison.
Those gluttonous pagans would have legit Roman shamed average Americans for pacing themselves at the buffet line. Lived to Eat was their Carpe DM, so let’s lift a tray of dumbwaiter tripalium in their honor. The grand tradition lives on!
