Mark & Max – III

Melos Zomos

Spartan Black Broth. Who hasn’t daydreamed of being a Spartan Warrior? Apparently, anyone who has eaten their food:

It is no wonder that Spartans are the bravest men in the world, for anyone in his right mind would prefer to die ten thousand times rather than [live as miserably as this.]”

Editorial question: Do I attribute that to “Miller, Max; Tasting History (p30)” or do I copy Max’s attribution: Sybarian dude via Athenaeus’s Deipnosophistae (possessive case in Latin would be “Athenaei” – it hasn’t been that long since Latin class [thanks, Mrs. Mengling]).

The secret ingredient in this one is pork blood. What kind of strange place do I live in where I cannot find barley flour, but pork blood (and spelt flour – next recipe) is not a problem?

That’s it. Diced pork in the background, spices and liquids in the middle ground, and the pork blood being sieved as it thaws in the foreground.

It’s not awful – despite the fact that I spit it into the sink (and will throw the rest out). It is very PORK. Not that delightful “pulled off the carcass that has been buried in slow fire all day” pork, but “I just killed a pig; I’m hungry; boil it” pork. If I were hunting my own boar and eating this at camp after a successful hunt, it would be fine. But I’m not. I have access to a panoply of spices and seasonings undreamt of by kings.

This might be fixable, but it doesn’t seem worth trying. I have no idea how blood acts as an ingredient. The potential for horrifying results seems high.

Good thing I have leftover Marco’s pizza from last night.