Epityrum: the olive, mother of all good pastes

Translated from french (please notify us of errors)

*Gathering fallen olives. Mosaic from Chebba (Bardo National Museum, Tunisia)*

The news may disappoint the people of Marseille: tapenade, attributed to chef Meynier in 1880, actually has a distant ancestor from antiquity. At best, then, it is a recreation ‒ a variation on a theme thousands of years old.

This ancestor is Greek, its name is stemphylon (στέμφυλον), and it is a black olive paste. It was prized in ancient Athens, as we learn from Athenaeus of Naucratis, a 2^nd-century CE author[1]. The preparation was not always well regarded by physicians… Athenaeus reports that a certain Diphilus of Siphnos judged black olives to be indigestible, though less so when crushed. This did not stop ancient tapenade from selling well in the markets. Like all products derived from the olive tree, it was a fundamental staple of the Mediterranean diet.

We know little about the Greek method of preparation. The situation is quite different for the Roman version, called epityrum or sirapa.

The first Latin mention of epityrum appears in the comic author Plautus, in the 3^rd century BCE, in the comedy The Braggart Soldier (Miles gloriosus)[2]. For the scholar Varro, who comments on this passage, the non-Italian origin of the preparation is well known:

“The term ‘epityrum’ refers to a food eaten more often in Sicily than in Italy.”[3]

Now, Sicily was colonised by the Greeks from as early as the 8^th century BCE, before being contested by the Carthaginians, and then conquered by the Romans in 241 BCE.

The Romans, as we said, carefully documented the making of olive paste. Two recipes have come down to us. The first is found in the work of the Roman politician, writer and soldier Cato the Elder:

*Epityrum with a sprig of rue (photo Nunc).*

“Prepare white, black and mixed epityrum as follows. Take white, black and mixed olives, and remove the stones. Prepare them thus. Cut them into pieces; add oil, vinegar, coriander, cumin, fennel, rue and mint. Put them in a jar, adding oil on top. Use them thus.”[4]

The second author to describe the preparation of olive paste in detail is Columella. This agronomist calls it sirapa. He no longer describes a craft process as Cato does, but a genuine industrial procedure. His text deserves to be reproduced in full:

“Perfectly ripe black olives are picked in fine weather and spread out for a day, in the shade, on reed racks. Any damaged olives are then discarded. Any stalks still attached, as well as any leaves and small branches mixed in, are also removed. The next day, the olives are carefully sieved to remove any dirt. The whole olives are then placed in a new basket and pressed for an entire night.

The following day, they are placed under perfectly clean millstones, set high enough that the stones are not broken. Once they have been reduced to a paste (samsa), heated and crushed salt is mixed in by hand along with the other dry seasonings: caraway, cumin, fennel seed and Egyptian anise. It will suffice to add as many heminae of salt as there are modii of olives, then pour oil over the top to stop the mixture drying out. This should be repeated every time it is seen to be starting to dry.

There is no doubt that the preparation made with the posia olive has an excellent flavour. However, its flavour does not keep intact beyond two months. Other varieties seem better suited to this preparation, such as the Liciniae and Culminiae. The Calabrian olive, however, is considered the best for this purpose; some call it oleastellum because of its resemblance to the wild olive.”[5]

Columella highlights the problems of preserving the preparation, a constant concern throughout antiquity.

The etymology of the Latin word epityrum (itself of Greek origin[6]) suggests that olive paste could be eaten with cheese ‒ a combination that must have been delicious…

Finally, one last word for the people of Marseille: if tapenade has a Greek ancestor passed down by the Romans, the same is true of their city, founded by Greek colonists from Phocaea in the 6^th century BCE. A double reason for pride! Quod erat demonstrandum.

[1] Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae, II, epitome, 47, 56b–56d:
56b. Δίφιλος δέ φησιν ὁ Σίφνιος τὰς ἐλάας ὀλιγοτρόφους εἶναι καὶ κεφαλαλγεῖς, τὰς δὲ μελαίνας καὶ κακοστομαχωτέρας καὶ βαρύνειν τὴν κεφαλήν, τὰς δὲ κολυμβάδας καλουμένας εὐστομαχωτέρας εἶναι καὶ κοιλίας στατικάς, τὰς δὲ θλαστὰς μελαίνας εὐστομαχωτέρας εἶναι.
56b. Diphilus of Siphnos says that olives are not very nourishing and cause headaches; that black olives are, moreover, worse for the stomach and make the head feel heavy; that those called kolymbades [“swimming” olives, preserved in brine] are better for the stomach and bind the bowels; and that crushed black olives are better for the stomach.

[2] Plautus, Miles gloriosus, 21-24:
Periuriorem hoc hominem si quis viderit / aut gloriarum pleniorem quam illic est, / me sibi habeto, ego me mancupio dabo; / nisi unum, epityrum estur insanum bene.
“If anyone has ever seen a more lying man than this one, or one fuller of boastfulness than he is, let him take me for himself: I give myself up as his slave. With one exception: at his house, they eat an extraordinarily good epityrum.”

[3] Varro, De lingua latina, Book VII, 86:
Apud Plautum:
Nisi unum: epityrum estur insane bene.
Epityrum vocabulum est cibi, quo frequentius Sicilia quam Italia usa. Id vehementer cum vellet dicere edi, dixit insane, quod insani omnia faciunt vehementer.
“In Plautus:
‘With one exception: there they eat a madly good epityrum.’
Epityrum is the name of a food eaten more often in Sicily than in Italy. Since [Plautus] wanted to say that it was eaten with great relish, he used the word insane, “madly”, because madmen do everything with vehemence.”

[4] Cato, De agri cultura, CXIX:
Epityrum album, nigrum, variumque sic facito. Ex oleis albis, nigris variisque nuculeos eiicito. Sic condito. Concidito ipsas : addito oleum, acetum, coriandrum, cuminem, foeniculum, rutam, mentam. In orculam condito, oleum supra siet. Ita utitor.
[5] Columella, De re rustica, XII, 49:
1. Oliva nigra maturissima sereno caelo legitur, eaque sub umbra uno die in cannis porrigitur, et quaecumque est vitiosa bacca, separatur. item, si qui adhaeserant pediculi, adimuntur, foliaque et surculi, quicumque sunt intermixti, eliguntur. Postero die diligenter cribratur, ut, si quid inest stercoris, separetur; deinde intrita oliva novo fisco includitur, et prelo subiicitur, ut tota nocte exprimatur.
2. Postero die iniicitur quam mundissimis molis suspensis, ne nucleus frangatur; et quum est in samsam redacta, tunc sal coctus tritusque manu permiscetur cum ceteris aridis condimentis : haec sunt autem careum, cyminum, semen faeniculi, anisum Aegyptium. Sat erit autem totidem heminas salis adiicere, quot sunt modi olivarum, et oleum superfundere, ne exarescat : idque fieri debebit, quotiensque videbitur adsiccari.
3. Nec dubium est, quin optimi saporis sit, quae ex oliva posia facta est. Ceterum supra duos menses sapor eius non permanet integer. Videntur autem alia genera huic rei magis esse idonea, sicut Liciniae et culminiae. Verumtamen habetur praecipua in hos usus olea Calabrica, quam quidam propter similitudinem, oleastellum vocant.
– Hemina (hemina): a Roman unit of liquid measure, equal to half a sextarius, or around 0.27 litres.
– Modius: a Roman unit of dry measure, equal to 16 sextarii, or around 8.6–8.7 litres.
– Wild olive: the Mediterranean wild olive tree (Olea europaea var. sylvestris).

[6] ἐπί, adv. and prep. on, upon; and τυρός, οῦ (ὁ), cheese.