entator. Many of the
ancient formula tried have our unqualified gastronomic approval.

If our work has not differed from that of our predecessors, if it
shows the same human frailties and foibles, we have at least one mark
of distinction among the editors in that we have subjected the
original to severe practical tests as much as this is possible with
our modern food materials. We experienced difficulty in securing
certain spices long out of use. Nevertheless, the experience of
actually sampling Apician dishes and the sensation of dining in the
manners of the Caesars are worth the trouble we took with Apicius. This
is a feeling of partaking of an entirely new dish, met with both
expectancy and with suspicion, accentuated by the hallowed traditions
surrounding it which has rewarded us for the time and expense devoted
to the subject. Ever since we have often dined in the classical
fashion of the ancients who, after all, were but "folks" like
ourselves.

If you care not for the carnal pleasures in Apician gastronomy--for
_gulam_,--if you don't give a fig for philology, there still is something
healthy, something infinitely soothing and comforting--"educational"--in
the perusal of the old book and in similar records.

When we see Apicius, the famous "epicure" descending to the very level
of a common food "fakir," giving directions for making Liburnian oil
that has never seen that country....

When we note, with a gentle shudder, that the grafters of Naples,
defying even the mighty Augustus, leveled the "White Earth Hill" near
Puteoli because an admixture of plaster paris is exceedingly
profitable to the milling profession....

When Apicius--celebrated glutton--resorts to the comparatively
harmless "stunt" of keeping fresh vegetables green by boiling them in
a copper kettle with soda....

When we behold hordes of ancient legislators, posing as dervishes of
moderation, secretly and openly breaking the prohibition laws of their
own making....

When we turn away from such familiar sights and, in a more jovial
mood, heartily laugh at the jokes of that former mill slave, Plautus
(who could not pay his bills) and when we wonder why his wise cracks
sound so familiar we remember that we have heard their modern versions
only yesterday at the Tivoli on State Street....

When, finally, in the company of our respected Horatius we hear him
say in the slang of his day: _Ab ovo usque ad mala_, and compare this
bright saying with