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The Culinary Tablets at YaleAuthor(s): Jean BottéroSource: Journal of the American Oriental Society, Vol. 107, No. 1, (Jan. - Mar., 1987), pp. 11-19Published by: American Oriental SocietyStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/602948Accessed: 14/06/2008 19:21

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THE CULINARY TABLETS AT YALE1

JEAN BOTTERO

ECOLE PRATIQUE DES HAUTES ETUDES

IT IS A HAPPY OCCASION for me to tender here the first interest on an old debt. Like other Assyriologists, I became obligated to the work and publication of the American Oriental Society. I owe it much, and for such a long time. I also became obligated to the Yale

Babylonian Collection and to its director, W. W. Hallo. With much generosity and with J. van Dijk's agreement, he and his associates placed at my disposal and gave me permission to study before their publica- tion what must now be called the "Yale's culinary tablets." They also extended to me all sorts of cour- tesies. They supplied me with M. I. Hussey's photo- graphs and autographs as well as with A. Goetze's

early annotations. W. Farber communicated to me his latest collations.

For more than one reason, I sincerely regret my inability to personally make this presentation. But if

you, as you must, love your beautiful tongue; and if

you just recall the quality of my English and of my wretched pronunciation of it-those who know me could edify you on this score-, I beg you to consider

my forced absence from your assembly as a Providential

blessing. Now that everything has found publication in the

rich and pleasing YOS XI-a volume anticipated with Messianic expectation by not a few among us-, I

hope to soon find the time to finalize the work over which I have labored for so many years in order to

decipher, explain, and translate these difficult, but altogether original and astonishing, documents.

In the meanwhile, because I owe it to you and because you were so good as to invite me to address you, the best that I could do here is to present these tablets to you, briefly of course, but in words enough to give you at least an idea of their contents and to highlight their particular interest.

We are dealing here with 3 tablets, autographed in YOS XI, under the numbers 25 (YBC 4644), 26, (YBC 8958), and 27 (YBC 4648), which I will henceforth for

A large segment of this paper was offered to the Assyriology section of the American Oriental Society meetings held in New Haven, March 10, 1986. The translation is by J. M. Sasson.

convenience cite as A, B, and C. We know nothing, I believe, of their provenance; but their written style and their orthography allow me to assign them, by and large, to the Old Babylonian period-rather to the middle of it, say around 1700-, and to pinpoint Southern Babylonia as their place of origin.

The first tablet, A, is almost 12 cm long and 16.4 cm high; it is complete in its 75 lines. A break has robbed the right side of about two-thirds of the lines along a quarter of its length; but parallels (above all in A but also in B and C), formulaic repetitions, and stylistic cliches, allow us to fill a good percentage of the missing segments; so much so in fact, that understanding the text is not too seriously affected. In this regard, A is the best preserved and most intelligible of the three, and it is for this reason that I shall linger over its contents but will pass more rapidly over B and C. A kind of "total" is found in the last two lines of A; located on the lower edge it summarizes the contents of the tablet as follows: "21 (kinds of) meat broths (siru) / (and) 4 (kinds of) greens (warqu)."

Here, as in B and C when in similar context, the term "water" (mu, construct me) refers to the material aspect of the dishes which, as we shall see, were all cooked in water. If such a definition, which is foreign to our vocabulary, seems to have satisfied the ancient cooks, we have some difficulty in trying to fit it within our own categories. For nothing informs us about a distinction that for us would be most crucial: to learn about the relevance and function of the liquid com- ponent after cooking. If this element turns out to be primary, then we should call it "bouillon," or perhaps even "soup"; if it is sufficiently evaporated and thick- ened, we shall label it "sauce," There are occasions (in particular, as we shall see, at B 1:47), where it is obvious that we are dealing with "sauce." Certain dishes, especially those with vegetables, could rather assume the consistency of some sort of mash (French: bouillie).2 Most often, however, we have little with which to settle the matter. For this reason, I have decided to render mu in these contexts as "stew" (French: bouilli), a term which is really little used, but

2 The word sipku occurs 3 or 4 times (cf. A:64).

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Journal of the American Oriental Society 107.1 (1987)

which refers to a preparation with water whose ingre- dients, especially meat, are eaten at the same time as their cooking water. A, therefore, preserves recipes for "25 stews: 21 meat-based and 4 vegetable-based."

In fact, text A's 73 lines are subdivided into 25 paragraphs, from 2 to 5 lines each, separated simply by a horizontal line. At the end of the 21st paragraph, which occurs between lines 61 and 62, the copyist doubled the lines in order to emphasize that he was passing from "meat stews" to those made with vege- tables. Each of these paragraphs invariably begins with one or two words which identify the recipe and appar- ently gives it the "title" by which it was commonly labeled and known-just as we do today, "Onion soup," "Boeuf miroton," "Bechamel sauce," etc....

The name of the vegetable used as base serves to distinguish between the vegetable stews. I recognize the meaning of only one of these: laptu (in line 71), which seems to be a sort of "turnip" (CAD L, 96ab); the other three terms escape me: kanasui (1. 65, CAD K, 143bs), tu 'u (1. 62) and hersu (1. 68).

The meat stews are often defined by me followed by the name of the main cut of meat, given in the genitive. It is, however, sometimes labeled after the animal from which the meat is derived: "stew of stag" (1. 11), "of gazelle" (1. 15), "of goat's kid" (1. 17),3 "of lamb" (21), "of ram" (33).4 By way of fowl we have: "stew of amursdnu-pigeon" (1. 17; CAD A/2, 95ab); "of tarru," which may be some sort of francolin (1. 58),5 and perhaps belonging here "of BiDsuD" (1. 37), the last sporting a bizarre name which tells us nothing.

The first of the recipes is for "meat stew" (1. 1), which, as we shall soon see, we should understand more specifically as referring either to sheep or to oxen. We also find a "stew of spleen" (1. 40 tulimu). The leg of mutton (gigot)6 appears many times, as the main cut of meat (1. 50), or as a throw-in (1. 55, 58; and particu- larly in the three "vegetable, stews"; 1. 62, 65 and 68); the epithet essu, which is assigned to the leg of mutton in lines 50 and 58, could be understood as "fresh," that is obtained from a freshly butchered animal. On two occasions, the "name" of the dish is derived from the condiments regarded as characteristic for it. Thus we have "corned stew (i.e., cooked in brine)" (1. 55, see further for this item) and "with kasut" (1. 28).

3 The feminine word, uniqu, is used here as is the common practice.

4 This is how I understand the word zikru, cf. CAD Z, 112b:3). 5 Cf. A. Salonen Vogel, p. 151s; AHw, 1331b. 6 sdqu, cf. AHw, 1028a; CAD S, 169b, is more reticent on

this score.

Some of these dish labels occur as simple adjectives whose forms, because they are given as masculine plural, were likely constructed with mui in mind; their meaning refers to the appearance of the prepared dish: "red" (1. 5), "glistening" (?, 1. 9),7 and possibly "crumbly" (1. 29).8 In two other instances, the adjective evokes the recipe's geographical or cultural derivation. Thus, for the first condition we have the label "elamite" (1. 45; elamutu), for which we are given the recipe's original name at the end: zukanda; for the second, we have asHuridtu, which is peculiarly given as a feminine plural (1. 3), but which must refer to Assur, the city or the land. Another qualifier, mur(r)rdtu (1. 20), which is similar morphologically to ass'urittu, could also be derived from a place name. In line 52, the name of the dish is taken from halaZZu, a "grown herb" (eristu),9 of which "four" sprigs, stems or roots are used to spice up the taste. I cannot identify it. As to ZamZaGdnu of line 26, a foreign word apparently, its meaning is completely lost to me.

The "title" of each of 25 rubrics is followed immedi- ately by the account of the recipe at stake. On the few occasions when we can make comparisons with detailed prescriptions in texts B and C, that of A is extremely concise. In catalogue style, with asyndetic linkage of words or brief phrases, and with many stereotyped formulae which can be commonly found almost every- where in this text, the account in A is, on the whole, a simple enumeration of ingredients which enter into the dish and of basic operations by which to prepare it. Neither the precise amounts of ingredients nor the time needed for the various activities-in particular for cooking the dish-are ever given. This is also the case for texts B and C. Their choice, left to individual taste, and especially to the cook's metier, probably depended on the number of consumers or on other givens that are just as incidental.

Apart from the 4 "vegetable" recipes (1. 62f.; 65f., 68f.; 71f.) and from those of the ZamZaGanu (1. 26f.)- the last with patterns that are somewhat singular in construction-, all of these recipes begin with the following triple instruction: There is (that is, one needs) meat. You set (kunnu) water. You throw (in it) fat (lipf)." These three ingredients are added to the pri- mary component of the dish, which is implicitly cited in the "title" of the dish (a piece of this or that meat; the amount of such or such vegetable), in order to make up

7 The term used is namru, "clear," referring to a broth or to a sauce; its usage, however, is pejorative in culinary French.

8 pasrutu, which I translate so because the dish in question is

sprinkled with crumbs of a cereal confection. 9 See AHw, 242a; CAD E, 299b:3.

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BOTTERO: The Culinary Tablets at Yale

what French cooks callfond, or appareil, and which is imperfectly translated by "stock."

Water and fat are to be found uniformly in all the recipes. In a few examples, however,'1 it is specifically indicated that meat be eliminated, "meat is not required here." One or two passages in text B (1:63; and cf. IV:17'f.) suggest that the meat is preferably derived from sheep or, alternately, from beef; and this is so also in other cases where the cut of meat is not specified. If such meat is added to the dish, even when it already contains more basic meat stock, it is obviously done in order to sharpen the flavor of the meal, and thus purely to accommodate the palate." A rather fine example is that of the "stew of amursinu-pigeon (1. 47f.): "You cleave (parhsu) the pigeon (before placing it in the pot); but additionally (u), meat is needed." Note further that with the exception of the "turnip" dish (1. 7 lf.) which is to be prepared meatless, the other three vegetable recipes were also larded with meat; in fact with a particular cut which was deemed more appropriate or more savory, the leg of mutton (?).

I should explain here that if the verbal form izzaz (which I have rendered "there is in it," in the sense of "one needs for it") is itself ambiguous, a number of more explicit passages, particularly in text B,"2 have led me to relate the form to the verb izuzzu, "to be found," rather than with the passive of zdzu, "to divide," a verb which does not seem to me to occur in the remaining passages of the three tablets. On the one hand, a certain amount of necessary "cutting up" of the meat is expected: the "stag stew," for example, did not require the flesh of an entire animal. If it were necessary to be specific about the manner and type of the cut, this was explicitly done; as is the case for the pigeons, which we noted above. On the other hand, the final parceling out of the dish at serving time-a topic which we shall soon address-, assumes that the meat was not at the outset apportioned into smaller servings before cooking, as is done in Chinese cuisine. The passive of the zazu, had it been used, would have needlessly underscored this technique.

The "stock" (French: "appareil, fond") common to all these dishes differed only because of the taste imparted by each of the basic ingredients and because it could be modified by the addition of a piece of lamb or beef. But the stock acquired its distinctiveness and

'o 1. 5; 11; 15; 28; 37; 40; 45; and also 71. In 23, the negative ul must have been wrongly added by the copyist. " We do the same thing today, for example, in the Pot-au-

feu, where we readily add a knuckle of veal. 12 B:I:48. Elsewhere, the form is causative: 1:6, 63, 111:41;

IV:15', etc.

its particular flavor also by incorporating various nutrients or additional condiments and by submitting either the contents of the dish or its supplementary material to a number of manipulations during its preparation.

A distinction cannot always be made between nutri- ents and condiments in that either of them enhanced the taste of the dish's basic ingredient by spicing it; and since they enter a dish during the course of cooking and are consumed at the same time as the basic ingredient, they also give the whole its nutritional value. For this reason, it is best to consider all these elements together. We can set aside offals and tripe which are obviously nutritious rather than condi- mentary in value whether they form part of the stock (1. 17) or are added by choice to certain dishes (1. 6; 41; 68). The most common supplementary ingredients in our texts (including B and C) are the alliaceous plants, for which the gourmets of antiquity seem to harbor a fondness that is certainly too excessive, at least to our taste. They seem to parallel the case of water and fats in that they can be found everywhere among the recipes. There are above all three such plants which we can at least recognize: the leek (karasu); the onion (susikillu), and the garlic (always spelled hazannu, but one time azannu; sumu is not otherwise attested in the texts).'3 There is also a fourth item which we could not identify too well (suhutinnu; AHw, 1261a).'4 The Zuru(m)mu is unknown, but must certainly have noth- ing to do with the CAD's "part of the intestinal tract." ' We find often repeated the still enigmatic kasu. "Salt" gives us a problem. Although it is frequently attested, it does not seem as common in use as today. The singular form tdbtu is well met in B and C; but in A, we always have the plural tabdtu. The last cannot refer to "vinegar," which itself can be found spelled with the ambiguous taibatu, for in two or three clear passages of B (cf. 111:43; IV:5) this item is obtained through "crushing" (maraqu) a bloc, and for this reason, "grains of salt" or "granulated salt" is to be regarded as a plural form.

We also find "spices," such as "cumin" (kamunu), "coriander," (kisibirru), and "juniper berries" ([?] sur-

13 We can still distinguish these three, at least specifically, without counting sub-species and local varieties.

'4 Since it is often placed in proximity with these alliaceous plants, perhaps we ought to attach to them samidu (CAD S, 114bf.).

15 AHw, 1063b; CAD S, 416a. "Part of the intestinal tract," is in fact a polite term for "sphincter," which is still used in French cooking, for example, to make the Burgundian "Judru."

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Journal of the American Oriental Society 107.1 (1987)

menu). A few others, such as "mint" (ninu) are more

widely attested in B and C; there they are associated with a small number of items that are either more rarely mentioned or less well known. Blood, milk, beer and kisimmu,'6 a milk derivative that is not yet fully identified, as well as grains and their by-products,7 are ingredients which we can find here and there added to the basic stock and which may have served as "binders" to thicken the broth and make it smoother. It goes without saying that they also served to enrich it through their flavor and to make it more nutritious. In B notably, we even find a variety of flour and semolina worked into dough or cooked in mush, or baked as pastry shells or as pancakes. The context even makes it probable that some raw condiments were added after cooking the dish, and this also serves to modify and enhance the flavor, very much as when we sprinkle minced chevril or parsley on cream of vegetable soups or on some varieties of scrambled eggs.

What is striking about all this is the multiplicity of condiments that were added to one and the same dish and the care with which they were combined into a blend of often complimentary flavors; there are no fewer than three such condiments in one dish, and often quite a few bit more-as many as ten. These combinations obviously presume a demanding and refined palate-even when far removed from ours-, betraying an authentic preoccupation with the gastro- nomic arts.

A number of operations in preparing a meal imply the presence and use of a wide selection of kitchen implements and presume a dependence on more or less ample culinary installations. I cannot detail them completely here, but I mention "mixing" (sutap/pulu), "sprinkling" (saptahu), "placing in the pot," (given as "to collect" [kamdsu] or "to receive" [maharu] in a cooking utensil), "slicing" (bardsu) of some of the vegetable ingredients and "squeezing" the others in a cloth, in order to extract their juice (teru), "pounding" (mardqu, hasalu), "steeping" or "soaking" (lapatu, la'dmu), "shredding, crumbling, tearing-up" (hardsu, hadddu, pardsu, sardqu), "straining or filtering," (sahadtu, napa), etc. To our mind, the most important step refers to the cooking proper. It occurred in an "oven," (tinuru), which, we learn thanks to some

16 CAD K, 421b define it as "soured milk." 17 bappiru (1. 24), cf. CAD B, 95f; baru, (26), cf. CAD B,

115a; Gaiidtu (43), AHw, 466f. (sub katu) and 893a (sub qaiidtu) as well as CAD Q, 54b; and very likely also risndtu (12, plur. of risittu (AHw, 959a), but with a new definition as "a cake made with pre-moistened grain."

passages in B, was also used to bake unleavened bread. "On" an oven, pots were placed in such a way as to cover the opening (hapa). Thus, liquids could be "brought to a boil" (subalkutu). The cooking (basailu) completed, the utensil was "lifted" (sula) or "removed" (nasdhu) from the source of heat. Other methods of heating were also practiced, such as direct movement to the flame, that is "flaming" or "roasting" (hamdtu); this is the manner in which goat's extremities were

prepared before they were added to the stock (1. 17). Cooking with water was itself so subtly understood

and undertaken that two distinct utensils came to be necessary: the "cauldron," no doubt made of metal (ruqqu), was apparently reserved for a rather quick pre-cooking step; indeed it was used for a type of braising or even for "sweating" dry ingredients. The "pot," very likely made of clay (diqaru), was probably used to simmer food and to complete its cooking. All these details show how far the Babylonians had devel-

oped the art of cooking, clearly to satisfy refined and

gastronomical concerns. Rather regularly, but sometimes omitted because of

need for brevity and conciseness, we find, at the end of

recipes,'8 meher (once: mehrum) naglabi, which literally means "facing the carving knife," but which I render "to bring to the carving knife." This formula is obvi- ously used to refer to completing the preparation of a dish, which then needed only to be "sent to the table,"'9 where it could be cut to morsels "with the carving knife," or, if we wish, "with the table knife,"20 an act which was undertaken by the guests or by a specialist, the master carver.

Here now are two or three translated recipes in order to give a less theoretical access to other content of text A. I give here and there some amplifications between parentheses to give a fuller meaning to a recipe.

(17-19). Goat-kid stew: Head, legs and tails will be

(at first) singed over a flame. Meat is needed. You set water. You throw fat in it. Onion, samidu, garlic, blood, "sour(ed) milk (?')" you squeeze (them together in order to extract the juice which is to be added in the cooking pot). An equal amount, some plain Suhutinnu (lit. "normal," igaru, that is neither prepared nor

cooked, but added raw).

18 Lines [4?], 30, [39], 44, 57, 61; also in B:II:20; 111:48 and C:17 (see also <43>?). 19

See, moreover, B:I:49. 20 This would be a new meaning for naglabu, derived no

doubt from the sharp edge, which assimilated this instrument to the "razor," CAD N/1, 120f.

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BOTTERO: The Culinary Tablets at Yale

(58-61). Tarru-bird stew: Meat from fresh (?) leg of mutton is needed. You set water. You throw fat in it. You dress the tarru (in order to place in a pot).21 Coarse salt, as needed. Hulled cake of malt. Onions, samidu, leek, garlic, milk; you squeeze (them together in order to extract the juice which is to be added in the cooking pot). Then, after cutting-up the tarrus, you plunge them in the stock (taken out) from the crock (and previously prepared with the above-mentioned ingredients), in order for them to (begin) cooking in the cauldron. (After which), you place them back in the crock (in order to finish cooking). To be brought out for carving. (71-73). Raised turnips ([?], lapti eristi): Meat is not needed. You set water. You throw fat in it [one or two words are missing]. Onion, dorsal thorn (name of an unknown plant used as condiment), coriander, cumin, and kanafs (a legume which figures also in another recipe). [Leek (?)] and garlic, which you squeeze (together in order to) spread [(the juice) on the dish.] Onion and mint (?), which you add (lit., "receive") in the crock. [The ending is missing: two or three words.]

The tone and the style are exactly those of a memorandum, of a compendium, used less to teach than to remind of the necessary ingredients and the essential steps in the preparation of a dish.

The second (B) and third (C) of our tablets can be treated at the same time and discussed more briefly by referring to A. These tablets differ from A in that their contents are much more detailed, their prescriptions are much more demanding; yet they are written in a style that is no longer telegraphic, but fluent. These prescriptions are not limited to lists of products and activities; rather, they are scrupulous in describing the various operations which certain dishes require, very much as do the liturgical ritual when they describe cultic ceremonies. Thus, the amursanu-pigeon recipe, which took up three lines in A (47f.) requires thirty seven in B (1:50-11:20). Another difference between these texts and A explains why my remarks here will be brief: As available to us, B and C are unfortunately full of breaks and contain damaged sections that are beyond repair.

We first turn to C, which is preserved in the worst condition. Slightly smaller than A (almost 19 by 14 centimeters in size), it has 53 rather brief lines, and gives no final tally of contents. Not much beyond two-

21 The verb used here is rakasu, with a new meaning for one of its usages, cf. AHw, 946b:12f.

fifths is still readable-whether completely preserved or plausibly restored-, while the remaining portions are either lost totally or in tatters. If, as is likely, the break at lines 23-30 did not hide a change in recipes, C may have included three which were separated by means of horizontal lines. The first recipe (1-17) is concerned with a small fowl with a broken name; perhaps, even simply some poultry.22 The second (18-43) deals with a well-known botanical product, butumtu, which refers either to pistachio or to any other related berry or kernel.23 The third recipe (44-53) speaks of a foodstuff, whose enigmatic name however, may be badly written. I would read it as pu<ha>lu, and regard it as referring to a ram or bull (AHw, 875b). With each of these three recipes, there is the same prefatory proposal: If you want to cook (subsulu, literally: "to have [someone] cook"), such aprovision.... Details of the recipes that follow are given in a running style, very much differing from the laconic style of A, and much closer to B.

This last tablet is of larger size and distributes its text over two columns per face, of 65 lines each.24 On the lower side, we can see the beginning of two lines, slightly set off towards the right, the first of which begins with dNisa[ba . . . ], the second with the name of another deity. At its end, B is as badly damaged as is C; but because the material here is denser and more abundant, there is enough left to give us a sufficiently detailed notion of its original content.

The scribe has allocated here seven recipes, likewise separated by a series of double horizontal lines, most of which were rather long. The first recipe (1:1-49), whose introductory formula is mutilated, at least alter- natingly dealt with "small birds" (ducklings? sparrows? -who knows?). The second (1:50-11:20) alludes to amursanu-pigeons. The third-which begins at 11:21 and can be followed at least to 11:55-pertains to a "fowl" (? issiuru). The fourth must have started in the break of twenty or so lines that spanned the end of columm II to the first readable fragments of III and which ended 29 lines later at 111:35. It is concerned with other fowls, called agarukku, a word which I have not met yet, but which may well be a graphic variant of kurukku/karakku (CAD K, 572b). The fifth recipe (111:38-48) is much more brief since it explicitly refers

22 This is a possible meaning for issuru. We know that birds of the gallinaceous order were not known to the poultry-yards of the early periods. On the other hand, here as elsewhere, the Akkadian term can also generically refer to any edible fowl.

23 Butumtu occurs, with the epithet BABBAR, also in B IV:46'. On this product, see Stol, On Trees . . ., p. ff. 24 B is 16 by 22.5 cm. (not 2.5 as given in YOS XI, p. 11).

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Journal of the American Oriental Society 107.1 (1987)

to the preceding directions and uses kippu as stock.25 The sixth begins at 111:49 and ends at the edge of the break, missing some 15 lines. It deals with gamgammu, which is believed to be a "marine bird."26 Finally, the seventh recipe starts in the first readable lines of column IV and uses up all its remaining text until the end.27 About 63 lines in length, this recipe is the most developed; but it is also true that it deals in detail with various cereal and vegetable stews (sipku) meant to accompany a dish.

The introductory formulae differ little from one recipe to the other. Setting aside that of the first recipe, which can hardly be read, and that of the second (If you [sing.] sacrifice28 a fowl...), we find elsewhere a formula already known from C: If you [sing.] want to cook (subsulu) such bird "as a stew" (literally: "the stew of such a bird"). In one passage (11:50), we have: "If you want to cook a pigeon with its stew."

It may not be necessary and (given the little time available to me now) it may prove impossible for me to thoroughly analyze the recipes in C and B. It may be enough to emphasize that even as they rehearse almost completely the vocabulary of A these two documents add new terms regarding ingredients, cooking tech- niques, utensils, and kitchen installations; many of these are either unknown or hardly attested to lexicographi- cally. To cite but a few examples, we thus find: the andahsu (B I:40)-perhaps belonging to the alliaceous plants (CAD A/2, 112bff.); the grain product, arsdnu (B 111:29...); honey (dispu) and "butter" (himetu; B IV:57'); the rue, a herbal condiment (B I:12..,, C: 10),29 a local nuoc-mam, the siqqu;30 the "kneading" and the kneaded dough (la'sgu and lisu, B I:17f....); the "mortar" with which to pulverize or pound (esitu, B IV:40); the "sieve" (mahhaltu, B IV:35f.... ). There are many other terms, not always understood, even when their basic sense seems clear. For example, I have not succeeded to figure out the precise mechanism and the

25 These are hardly known, but compare KI.IBmUben, etc., with Hh XVIII:235f.-MSL VIII/2, p. 133f.; A. Salonen, Vogel, p. 209.

26 AHw, 278b; A. Salonen, Vogel, p. 166f. Here the vocable

is written not GAM. GAM as elsewhere, but KA.AM. KA.AM. 27 There is also reference to an issiiru, see IV:2',7', etc. 28

I.e., in order to cook it; this must be the sense of tabdhu' here.

29 Written si20-ib-bu-ra-tam, and not sibburatum, AHw, 1226f.

30 Also written with si- (B I: 17...). In this as in the example given in the above footnote we see that the writing of the some sibilants was somewhat peculiar.

purpose for a hand movement which involved "beating water"; I therefore provisionally translate the idiom with the ambiguous "get the water ready" (me mahasu, frequently occurring in B I: 17, etc. and C 5, etc.).

Since I did it for A, I can now do no less than cite for you one recipe in its entirety. It is the first one which occurs in B and, as it happens, the only one which I have managed to follow to its end, and for which I found a culinary "logic"; this, despite the loss of a couple of lines and the presence of a few damaged words.

(I 1-49) You should set aside [...], the neck (with the

head) and the feet. You should then open them (the body cavities) in order to extract the gizzards and the

pluck. You should split and peel these gizzard, [cut up] this pluck and clean and trim the birds. You should scour a cauldron in order to place in it everything.3' When you remove everything from the fire, you should

ready cold water which you should pour in a pot; you should similarly ready milk, and after likewise pouring it in a pot, you should set this latter upon afire. You should then carefully clean and wipe birds, gizzards and pluck (removed from the cauldron) and, after sprinkling them with salt, you should put them in the

pot. Over and above all this, you should add some fat, duly "de-strung. ,32 You should add "wood, "to taste.33 When it comes to a boil, you should crush some onions-but not too much-together with samidu, leek, and garlic, in order to add to the recipe, with a small amount (lit. "10 shekels") of water.

While this stock was simmering, the cook was to prepare what was needed to serve the dish: pastry dough to be used as bottom and top as well as flat cakes to be part of the meal.

After cleaning the flour, you should soften it with milk and, once it is puffy, you should knead it, adding

31 The text says nothing about liquids, and it must have meant some sort of a pre-cooking step, equivalent to what we call dry "sweating."

32 The fat in question was taken directly from the animal; before using it, therefore, it was necessary to remove the sinews, ligaments and tendons, that is all those non-edible

portions. 33

isst, a technical term, somewhat similar to our "aromatic herbs," or to the French "bouquet garni," but which probably referred to twigs or chips from one or more trees or shrubs. Tradition and custom probably taught the cook about all this; we, however, know nothing of it.

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BOTTERO: The Culinary Tablets at Yale

s/ iqqu,34 and including samidu, leeks and garlic. (There should be) enough milk and pot-oil (probably some sort of culinary product) to keep the dough soft (?)-you must carefully keep an eye on the dough for this purpose while kneading it. You should divide this

dough into two portions: one half, you should save in the pot, the other you should shape into smallish

sepetu-bread,35 which you should bake in an oven

(tiniru). When you remove them (from the oven), you should

(again) knead together, in milk, flour which is similarly moistened and made puffy, adding [lost word], leek,

garlic, and samidu (either pounded or pressed together). You should then select a platter that is large enough to hold the birds of the cooked dish. Make a bottom out

of the dough just kneaded, allowing it to overhang the rim by afew centimeters (lit., "4 fingers"). This dough, you shouldflatten it into a thin crust. You should then select (another) platter, (broad enough) to cover com-

pletely the area which the cooked birds will occupy.36 As to the dough which you have kept in reserve, after you have sprinkled it with (chopped) mint, you should also flatten it, to use it as a cover [....37]. When it is baked and you have removed it from the

fire, you should remove (from the baking platter) the

dough (baked in the shape of a) cover, a you should rub it [with oil?]. But you should keep (?) it in its

platter until time serving time. Once the birds and their sauces are cooked, you should

pound together leek, garlic and andahsu, which you should squeeze (in a cloth, in order to add their essence to the dish). At serving time, you should take up the platter (which has been readied, that is, which has a baked pastry to bottom it) and you should carefully lay out the birds

upon it; you should then spread over them the chopped pieces of gizzards and pluck, as well as the smallish

34 We should recall that s/siqqu was apparently a pickling agent, made from steeping fish, shellfish, or grasshoppers in liquid, and letting them decompose; MSL VIII/2, p. 108; A. Salonen, Fischerei, p. 158f.

35 The exact meaning of sepetu escapes me. See, perhaps, sepu, CAD S, 227a.

36 That is, a platter that is just a bit larger than the previous one; since it will be used as a cover, it obviously needs to have a larger diameter.

37 Two lines are missing. We presume that the two prepara- tions of dough detailed above, bottom and top, were to be set on some intermediary metal or ceramic platter whose name is lost, and all were to be placed to bake at the "upper level of an oven."

sepetu-breads which have been baked in the oven. You should sprinkle the whole with sauce,38 adding, over and above all this, a bit of "pot oil." You should cover the whole with the prepared (crust) cover, and send

everything to the table.

We are therefore dealing here with some kind of tort or pie. Top and bottom were made out of non-rising dough, although nothing informs us whether the two were joined at their rim, as is commonly done today. To the dough were added various condiments and aromatic-mostly alliaceous-ingredients in order to enhance the taste. The dish itself was composed of fowls, with their gizzards and pluck cooked in a sauce that was suitably spiced. When served, the dish was accompanied by small flat breads which were also properly flavored. Filling the purpose of what is called in French "fleurons," these breads decorated and com- pleted the dish, providing it with flavor and crusty texture that are characteristically theirs.

A number of conclusions jump to our mind. The first, is that these people show so much refinement in matters dealing with the palate that we are forced to speak of a scientifically-based, learned cuisine, and to consider as real the possibility of gastronomic research.

The second conclusion is that, at least in this case, this gastronomy could not have been shared through- out the population, for it required not only a specialized literature, but also a professional personnel and appropriate installations, not to speak of such a profuse and rich variety of ingredients. It is my opinion that in any given culture, imagination and refinement, whether culinary or otherwise, are by themselves easily con- tagious. We might imagine, therefore, that even "small households" must have introduced some experimenta- tion in their everyday eating-within the limits of their economic capabilities, of course. In other words, I do not believe that the cuisine of even the most modest of households is necessarily reflected in those sorry mushes and in those doleful mastications to which we assyri- ologists have consigned them so sadistically. But, as is found in all hierarchical societies-and I may mention here the excellent book of J. Goody, Cooking, Cuisine, and Class-, there were always two distinct cuisines; one popular, the other more elaborate ("Haute cuisine"), developed and refined each in its distinct manner, but differing by its quality, and never just by its quantity.

38 The context here is very enlightening. We obviously are dealing here with some sort of a sauce, even not a thick one.

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Journal of the American Oriental Society 107.1 (1987)

Our recipes belong to this more elaborate cuisine, to this cuisine "of class," reserved to the more powerful of this world, and to the gods as well. On this last point, one or two lines on our tablets recall an apparently religious or theological purpose for these recipes (as is the case for example with the African cuisine of Bahia in Brazil). Thus, the second recipe of text B (11:21) is presented as follows: "Ifyou want to sacrifice (with the aim of cooking it) afowlfor a timru ...." timru (AHw, 1346b) seems to refer to a ritual meal, either meant for a deity or prepared in his honor. One more example: the last recipe in C (1. 44) deals with a ram or an ox (pu-<ha->lu) "for sacrifice" (taqqiti, AHw, 1324a).

My third conclusion is that we would be mistaken to regard these tablets as early precursors or our cooking manuals, either written for people of the profession or for any interested party, and propagated among them. In Mesopotamia, only the scribes could have read them, to say nothing of writing them. It is of course not excluded that those who could read may have recited these recipes to cooks; but a profession, in any of the various branches of its techniques, is not practiced merely through oral instructions. Through recall or just by habit, cooks knew not only what the form- ulations in our tablets implied, but also what they passed over in silence; for instance, the amounts and the timing that were necessary.

We are not dealing here with works which were didactic in purpose; but, normative, so to speak, or even ritual in nature. The ancients wanted especially to memorize through them "procedures that were tradi- tionally effective," themselves the result of much experi- ence, of long periods of groping, attaining a modicum of technical and operational perfection and producing recipes that have proven their worth. That they were written down does not necessarily exclude the pos- sibility that newer experimentation may have led to further improvement and modification, even to the point of requiring new redactions; this situation is quite comparable to the tablets with long inventory of materials which were updated to keep up with the increase of items to be recorded.39

What I say here about our culinary tablets falls within the more general problem confronting us with regard to the "technological literature" from the ancient world. This category includes tablets regarding the manufacture of perfumes, of dyes, of beer, of glass, of horse training, etc.... One day, it may be necessary to

study this corpus as a single entity, and to subject it to

39 See for example the inventory lists from Qatna, RA 43(1949), 28ff.

a number of questions, beginning with the analysis of the ancient's process of selecting techniques for record- ing. In that context, our culinary tablets will have their own word to say....

We could continue with conclusions, but I offer this last one only. These three tablets are but strays from a huge wreck, and there is still the possibility that a whole library of similar texts was devoted to the "science" of cooking. To begin with, we find in our texts only a meager selection of the foods that we know were partaken, and presumably also cooked, by the Mesopotamians of past times. About this literary tradition, however, our tablets contain a curious clue. Whereas the recipes of A and of C, and most of those in B, are written according to the usual scheme wherein the "master" teaches the "disciple," an employer gives an order to an employee, which case requires the second person singular as verbal forms; in contrast, and particularly in B, we find here and there another stylistic presentation in the first person singular, which alternates with the previous one, as though a profes- sional is simply explaining to an off-stage audience, as he proceeds. Here is one example (B:I; 56ff.):

I extract gizzard and giblets and after I have cleaned well (the pigeon), YOU place it to soak in water. I then cleave and I skin the gizzard, and after I bring water to boil, YOU place gizzard and giblets in a cauldron....

Since it is hardly likely that two workers were needed in this operation-and this is especially clear when we compare such episodes to their parallel in other recipes-, we have here undisputable evidence for a twofold stylistic tradition that is used in this techno- logical literature and which may say much on its origin and its development.

As I hope to better show it elsewhere, the Yale culinary tablets not only offer us a rich lexicographic harvest, but they also pose important, yet much neglected, questions regarding the technical language of ancient scribes. These texts enlighten us about a broad and very meaningful, yet scarcely expected, aspect of the life and the "mentality" of the ancient Mesopotamians. Beyond this interest, which may be purely anthropological, these tablets force us to reflect more deeply on literary history and its tradition.

And now a personal note. All serious historians as well as sensible persons must be aware that we cannot always leave our own culture easily, conveniently, or with impunity. With this in mind, I have always refused to put to test these recipes, even the most intelligible ones; this despite the fact that I have been asked about this dozens of times! I ought to tell you,

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BOTTERO: The Culinary Tablets at Yale

however, that others are much more courageous (or less conscientious [?]) than me. You should find, therefore, on pp. 100-101 of issue no. 69-70 (June- July 1985) of the French magazine Actuel (which is "serious" almost 50% of the time), recipe B 1:1-49 executed, photographed and partaken by one of my friends, a journalist, who proclaims it to be a real treat!

Happily I missed the occasion, and I played no part in writing that chapter. But I very much doubt that the

results were as delicious as all that. I doubt too that this particular recipe was-indeed, could have been- followed in the same manner that would have occupied an ancient nuhatimmu, resurrected from the dead just for the occasion....40

40 Translator's note: In a letter to me, Mr. Bottero confessed that he would not wish such meals on any save his worst enemies.

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