On a blistering day in the twenty-sixth year of Augustus Caesar’s reign, a young chef, Thrasius, is acquired for the exorbitant price of twenty thousand denarii. His purchaser is the infamous gourmet Marcus Gavius Apicius, wealthy beyond measure, obsessed with a taste for fine meals from exotic places, and a singular ambition: to serve as culinary advisor to Caesar, an honor that will cement his legacy as Rome's leading epicure.
Apicius rightfully believes that Thrasius is the key to his culinary success, and with Thrasius’s help he soon becomes known for his lavish parties and fantastic meals. Thrasius finds a family in Apicius’s household, his daughter Apicata, his wife Aelia, and her handmaiden, Passia, with whom Thrasius quickly falls in love. But as Apicius draws closer to his ultimate goal, his reckless disregard for any who might get in his way takes a dangerous turn that threatens his young family and places his entire household at the mercy of the most powerful forces in Rome.
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Feast of Sorrow
Marcus Gavius Apicius purchased me on a day hot enough to fry sausage on the market stones. It was the twenty-sixth year of Augustus Caesar’s reign. I was nineteen and I’d been put up for sale at the slave auction in Baiae after three months under Titus Atilius Bulbus, a fat, swarthy beast I was glad never to see again. I thanked the gods for the day Bulbus realized that a good cook was worth ten times his weight in denarii and decided it was more advantageous to sell me than to sleep with me.
Midmorning, the slave master, a heavy man with a barrel-shaped torso supported by birdlike legs, shuffled me toward an empty pen at the end of the slave platform. He brought a stool so I didn’t have to sit on the dusty ground as two haggard old women scrubbed my naked body until not a trace of grime lingered on my skin. They trimmed my hair and scraped off my beard, leaving me cleaner than I’d been in months.
From my bench in the new pen, I heard my future master before I saw him.
“Ah, Master Apicius,” the slaver said in a simpering voice unlike the one with which he usually barked out commands at his slaves. “I am glad you are here. I have two others inquiring about the cook. I hoped you would arrive first.”
“Where is he?” Apicius asked, his voice a smooth baritone.
There was a rustle of tent flaps and the slap of sandals on the hot stones. I scrambled to my feet as they rounded the corner and came into view. Apicius looked about a decade older than me, with dark hair and an aquiline nose typical of a long Roman bloodline. An extraordinarily tall Egyptian with wick-black hair and biceps the size of ham hocks hovered in the background. I surmised that he was Apicius’s body-slave—the personal attendant who accompanied him everywhere.
The slaver opened the door to the pen and yanked me out to stand in front of Apicius, who took appraisal of my naked body, noting with his eyes that my head was bare. “No cap.” He nodded his approval. The lack of a slave cap meant the fat slave master would guarantee me for six months. It also meant I was worth more.
Apicius lifted the bronze plaque around my neck, freshly polished and etched with my credentials and history of ownership. I would wear it every day of my life as a slave. “Free of illness. Does not steal. Good, good. Thrasius, eh? That’s a Greek name.”
I nodded, unsure if I should speak.
“You were the coquus to Flavius Maximus?” Apicius let go of the plaque and it slapped against my chest. “Interesting. I dined with Maximus a few months before his death. We had sausages of pheasant, sweet melon relish, and a patina of small fry. Was that your doing?”
I gathered my courage and hoped my voice did not shake. I remembered that patina—an egg custard of which Maximus was quite fond. “Yes. The sweet melon relish was something new that I was trying.”
“How long did you work for Maximus?”
“I ran his kitchen for a year before he died. He was fond of entertaining.” My mind raced. Apicius was certainly interested in my cooking but what if this man was as cruel as Bulbus?
Apicius raised an eyebrow at me. “Can you make roasted peacock?”
“Yes. I have a recipe for peacock with damson raisins soaked in myrtle wine. It works equally well with partridge or duck. I’m sure you would find the dish to your liking.” I wiped sweat off my brow.
“What do you consider your specialty?”
“There are three,” I answered, raising my voice in order to be heard over the din of the market. “My ham in pastry, with honey and figs, has often been praised, but I have been told it is equaled by my truffles with pepper, mint, and rue. I can also make you a dish of roasted salt belly pork with a special mixture of garum, cumin, and lovage.”
Apicius smiled and started to ask another question. But the slave master was growing impatient. “The boy will make you famous,” he whispered to Apicius. “With him cooking, you will have clients and friends lining up in the morning, begging for a spot at one of your cenae!” He paused. Apicius glowed.
The slave master continued, “His talents go beyond that of the kitchen. He can read and write, he is excellent at figures, and he speaks several languages. This is the coquus for you!”
The slave master cocked his head and smiled. “Most definitely.”
I expected Apicius to ignore the slaver’s words. Yet he asked my price of the slave master and the answer shocked me. Twenty thousand denarii! Slaves rarely sold for more than a few hundred denarii.
“Sotas!” Apicius beckoned to the body-slave. Disapproval briefly flashed across Sotas’s features as he stepped forward with a bag.
Apicius opened the bag to reveal several gold aurei, then laid the heavy pouch in the slaver’s dark calloused hand. “The argentarii know me well,” he said, gesturing in the direction of two men standing under a small canopy at the corner of the slave market. As representatives of the Roman bank, the argentarii were responsible for officiating over the larger sales, verifying credit, and making sure transactions went smoothly. “They will sign my letter of credit for the rest.”
The slave master grinned. He had profited heavily.
I would later learn that my selling price was more than all the other slaves sold that morning combined.
• • •
After the slave master had removed my shackles and thrown a threadbare tunic at me, Apicius motioned for me to follow. Sotas followed behind.
As we made our way through the Baiae streets, I could sense unease in my new dominus. Perhaps he was having second thoughts about the high price he paid for me.
When he spoke it was with impatience. “Tonight I’m having a small cena with a few close friends. Tell me what you will make for the meal.”
I faltered at my new master’s words. I gazed up at the laundry lines strung between the insulae we walked past, with colorful stolae hanging out to dry. The sun was already past its apex.
“I am unsure of the staples in your kitchen.” I kept my eyes down. My stomach churned as if I had eaten a rotten apple.
Apicius stepped around a small group of boys playing a game of knucklebones. “Never mind that. If you had any ingredient at your disposal, what would you make?”
“You said it was a small dinner?”
“Yes,” he affirmed.
“In that case, I would begin with a gustatio of salad with peppers and cucumbers, melon with mint, whole-meal bread, soft cheese, and honey cake.” I tried to draw on my memory of one of the last meals I’d made for Maximus.
Apicius licked his lips. “Yes, yes, go on.”
“Then pomegranate ice to cleanse the palate, followed by a cena prima of saffron chickpeas, Parthian chicken, peppered morels in wine, mussels, and oysters. If I had more time, I would also serve a stuffed suckling pig. And to close, a pear patina, along with deep-fried honey fritters, snails, olives, and, if you have it on hand, some wine from Chios or Puglia.”
“Perfect. Simple and the flavors would blend nicely at the beginning of a meal. Good.”
• • •
Apicius led us across the square to the altar to Fortuna Privata, the goddess of luck and wealth. I had been right in thinking my new master was worried about his purchase—it was the only reason he would need to ask the goddess for a divination. On the way to the altar, we stopped at a grocer’s stall to purchase offerings: a live goose, fruit, and honey cakes.
The altar was between two buildings on top of a tall stone platform that housed a richly adorned statue of the goddess. Sotas handed the goose to Apicius, who brought it toward the priest waiting next to the altar. My heart pounded. This divination was about me, about how I would affect the Gavian household. An unlucky reading would place doubt in Apicius’s mind, and the last thing I wanted was for Apicius to return me to that filthy slaver. He would beat me within an inch of my life for cheating him out of such a fortune. The gods only knew who I might end up with then—the slaver might decide to send me to the salt mines, which would be a death sentence. Few slaves lasted more than a year or two cutting salt.
The priest, a bald man with heavy-lidded eyes, wore red robes that, despite their color, could not hide the dark blood stains of his trade as a haruspex, one who gave divinations by viewing the entrails of sacrifices. Apicius handed the squawking goose to the priest, who sprinkled it with salted flour, poured a few drops of wine on its forehead, and said a blessing. He placed the goose in the copper bowl resting on a low side table and abruptly ended its cries with a quick slash across its neck and a push of the knife down its belly. Scarlet flooded the feathers and flowed into the bowl in a rush.
There was no struggle, which bode well for the divination. The haruspex rolled the goose over and pushed upon it until the entrails fell into a viscous mess in the bowl. I observed my new master, wishing I knew what thoughts were going through his mind. An ironlike smell wafted up from the bowl.
A few more cuts and the haruspex set the carcass into a second bowl off to the side. The goose meat was payment for his services. He pushed his hand through the goose guts, pulling aside intestines and organs. Last, the priest singled out the liver, heart, gizzard, and gall bladder. He turned each organ over in his hands, searching for spots and abnormalities by which he could discern the goddess’s wishes. As a cook I had seen the insides of hundreds of geese, but I still didn’t understand what a haruspex saw when he examined the blood and guts.
After many long minutes, Apicius was unable to take the priest’s silence any longer. “Well?” he asked as he twisted the thick gold wedding ring around his finger.
I was just as impatient. What if the divination said I was a terrible purchase? Would I be back on the slave block before the end of the afternoon?
The haruspex cocked his head at Apicius, one eyebrow raised. I imagined he had seen the same look in the eyes of the wealthy before. He cleared his throat. “The goddess Fortuna smiles upon you in some ways but, I fear, not in others.”
Apicius wiped his palms on the folds of his toga. I held my breath.
The priest pushed around the entrails. He lifted up the liver. It was larger than normal but very smooth. “In this I see a life of indulgence and prosperity. You will win many hearts and bring pleasure to many people. You will have much to love in your life.” He examined the gall bladder. It was swollen and no longer green as it should be, but a bright, angry red.
A whirring noise engulfed us as several hundred flapping pigeons swirled through the air. Apicius cursed. “Damn pigeons.” He glanced upward. “Perhaps I should have sought an augur to read the birds instead of a gut gazer.” I had to wonder as well; so many birds appearing at that moment must have great significance.
The priest didn’t look up. Apparently birds meant nothing to him unless they were sprawled open under his knife. He slashed the gall bladder open and pulled it apart with the tip of his blade. It was filled with hundreds of yellowish-orange pieces of gravel. He grimaced and my stomach lurched. What did he see?
“This is most unfortunate. A healthy liver and a rotten gall bladder. You will feel the blood of life mingling with the pang of death. Your good fortune will be as a disease throughout your life. The more you work toward success, the more your sky will darken.” The haruspex jabbed a fat finger toward a particularly large rock glistening with bile. Two larger pebbles stuck to its sides. “See that? Beware! For every success, greater failures will cluster to the sides.”
The priest ignored Apicius’s sharp intake of breath. He put the gall bladder aside and turned to the rest of the entrails. He lifted the gizzard, a double-bulbed organ, and cut it open carefully, exposing a cavity full of grass, rocks, and other debris. “Look here,” he said, pointing to a piece of rounded pale blue glass amid the slimy debris. “This means unusual judgment.”
“What do you mean?” Beads of sweat stood out on Apicius’s brow.
“It means that, ultimately, you will be judged in the Underworld by how our world and the world of the future perceive you.”
The haruspex picked up the bowl and turned away.
I felt sick—it had been a dismal fortune and surely Apicius was bound to march me right back to the slave trader.
“I see,” said Apicius, looking perplexed.
The statue of Fortuna glowed in the early-afternoon sunlight. Her eyes, painted blue, stared at me.
As he rose, Apicius repeated the priest’s words over and over in a whisper: “Judged in the Underworld by how the world sees me now and in the future.”
I glanced at Sotas, but the body-slave only bowed his head. I wished that I could ask Apicius what he intended. Would he send me back? I looked toward Fortuna and dared to stare into that aquamarine gaze. I thought back to my time with Bulbus and how he abused me in ways no person should have to endure. Please, my lady, grant me your favor. Please. Do not send me back to a beast like Bulbus. Please . . .
• • •
After the divination, Apicius was agitated. There was no more friendly discussion on the way back to his domus, which was a short walk outside of town. I was glad for the silence. It gave me time to think about the whirring of birds still spiraling in my mind. The last time I’d seen birds fly in such a manner was the morning my previous master, Maximus, had fallen dead as his slaves were helping him don his toga. If birds foretold death to Maximus, what did the flock of pigeons mean for Apicius? Did they mean anything for me? Terror held court in the circle of my heart.
This terror took new form when I saw the vastness of the estate where I was to work. Apicius lived in a grand domus that rested on a high ridge with sweeping views of the Tyrrhenian Sea. It was larger and more elaborate than any I had seen, despite the fact that I’d been owned by three different patricians, each among the very rich. I was not prepared for the opulence of the house that lay before me. Apicius led us through a labyrinth of painted corridors that sometimes opened toward the ocean and the beach below. We passed through the peristylium, and I almost gasped aloud. The courtyard was immense, and laden with fountains and small running streams. Flowers bloomed everywhere and the rich smell of thyme permeated the air as we crushed the growing herbs against the stones beneath our feet. In an unusual design for a domus, one side of the peristylium was open toward the sea, and specially rigged gates could be closed to create a wall against the elements if the need arose. The size of the house was massive. I tried to imagine how many slaves worked for Apicius. There must have been hundreds.
“Sotas, take the boy to the kitchen and start him working,” Apicius ordered.
A sour taste rose in my mouth. “But, Dominus, I need more time to . . .”
As soon as the words escaped my mouth I knew that I should not have said them.
Apicius whirled around. “Do not question me. Sotas will take you to the kitchen, where you will cook me the cena meal you described, with two exceptions. I don’t want Parthian chicken. Instead, you will cook me your ‘specialty’ ham in pastry and there will be lobster instead of mussels.”
Then his tone changed. “Eat no food tonight you did not prepare by your own hands. If you must partake of food other slaves have made, make them taste it first. And under my explicit instructions, you are not to touch any food that one of my guests asks you to taste, understand? Find another slave to taste but you are to take the utmost care for your own well-being.”
What had happened to the last cook? A lump of panic rose in my throat.
Apicius put a hand on my chest and thrust me in Sotas’s direction.
“How did I anger him?” I asked Sotas when Apicius was out of earshot. I had to look up to meet his eyes—the top of my head came only to his chest.
“It wasn’t you. It was the haruspex.”
“Why did he want to buy me so badly?”
Sotas gave me a crooked smile. “Because you’re a good cook, or at least you were the night Apicius ate at Maximus’s house. Apicius still talks about that meal. He wants that for his own table. He wants someone who will help him become gastronomic adviser to Caesar. He is expecting you to be that person. As for money, you’ll find he has a lot of it and he spends it freely.”
“I don’t understand. The reading for the haruspex was terrible.”
Sotas laughed but it was a bitter sound. “Didn’t you notice what he was whispering to himself the whole way back?”
I remembered only Apicius mentioning the part about judgment in the Underworld and I said as much.
“Exactly. Apicius heard what he wanted to hear. The part about success, what was it . . . ?”
“The more he works toward success, the more his sky will darken. Sounds like failure to me.”
“Yes, that. He’s angry and worried now, but by morning he will have convinced himself the failure part was never said.”
I remained silent.
Like the domus itself, the kitchen was the largest I had ever seen, full of bustling slaves preserving food, cleaning pots, and cooking on the three large hearths. The fresh, sweet essence of honey cakes wafted through the air, mingling with the acrid smell of vinegar and the rich aroma of smoking meats. The kitchen was loud and hot despite the ocean breeze drifting through the open windows. A red long-tailed hound lay in one corner, asleep with his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. A large sundial in the garden was visible through the kitchen window. I had only a few hours to prepare an elaborate meal.
I counted fifteen kitchen slaves. They all appeared to be cooking, not serving, and I guessed there must have been at least a dozen more elsewhere who served the courses of the cena. A few prepubescent youths wandered in and out of the kitchen, likely errand runners. I could barely breathe—by the gods, how was I going to manage all these people? I knew how to run a kitchen, but only a small one, with three slaves and three servers—nothing on the scale of what appeared to be expected of me in the Gavian household! My moment to worry passed quickly, for after we entered the room, Sotas rang a large bell on a shelf next to the kitchen door and all the slaves stopped their work, their faces shining in the heat. He pushed me forward into the room and presented me to the kitchen.
“That the new coquus?” an older, mostly toothless woman asked from her post at a low counter where she was pickling parsnips. Her long gray hair, streaked with white, was loose and cascaded down her back. I wondered how much of it found its way into the food.
“He’s your new boss. Don’t make him angry,” Sotas warned, and headed back into the depths of the house.
I watched him go, unsure of what I should do. The kitchen staff waited for me to speak but I could not find a thing to say. A huddle of women plucking chickens and pheasants kept working, looking from me to the birds and back again. The dog lifted its head expectantly. After an uncomfortable silence, the toothless woman spoke up. “Are you mute, boy?”
The words of my former master Maximus came back to me. He had always said that there would be certain times, despite my status as a slave, when I would need audacity and sheer brazen nerve. In those moments I should assume that all around me understood that I knew best. For the first time, I understood the truth of Maximus’s words. If I didn’t speak and react with authority, I would never have the respect of the staff, and given all the money Apicius had spent on me, I had better gain that respect fast.
“Mute? Unfortunately for all of you, no, I am not.” I strode to the center of the kitchen. I gazed at each of them as I spoke. “I am Thrasius but you will call me Coquus. I run a smooth kitchen and I expect the best out of my staff. You there”—I pointed to the old woman—“what is your name?”
She arched her brow, deciding whether she should answer me. I stood my ground, staring intently at her until she blinked, her black eyes disappearing behind wrinkles of skin.
“Balsamea, who is second to the coquus in this kitchen?” My eyes scanned the room, refusing to betray my fear to the other slaves. Most were older than me and that would make gaining their trust even harder.
“That would be me, Coquus,” said a man standing near a large jug of garum in the corner of the room. I noted the stamp on the vessel, from Lusitania, one of the finest garum factories in the Empire. Good garum, a sauce made from the entrails of little anchovies, was one of the most important flavors in a dish. I was glad to see I would have access to the best.
“I’m Rúan.” The man stepped forward, wiping his floured hands on his thick kitchen tunic. He was young, still in his teens, with an unusual head of red hair and striking green eyes. I wondered if he was from Hibernia, the large isle off Britannia.
“Rúan, I have a menu which Dominus has instructed me to prepare for tonight’s cena. Have you slaughtered any pigs recently?”
“There is fresh ham from this morning stored in the cellar,” Balsamea spoke up. Rúan glared at her for answering on his behalf, but she didn’t look away from the vegetables she was slicing.
“Good.” I glanced around the room. “Who bakes the best pastries in this kitchen?”
“Vatia has won the praise of Dominus Apicius,” Rúan replied, pointing to a young woman standing behind a low table on the right side of the room. He was Hibernian, his accent so thick that I had to concentrate to understand. Vatia stopped kneading bread long enough to nod her acknowledgment. Her dark, shiny hair was pulled back in a tight knot, which pleased me. Before the end of the night, I planned to tell Balsamea that imitating Vatia would be in her best interest and that she would no longer have the liberty of keeping her greasy locks free in my kitchen.
“Have you prepared the honey cakes?”
Vatia pointed to a nearby pan filled with little cakes ready to slide into the oven. Good. One less thing to worry about. “There are two more tasks for you this evening. You will prepare fifteen rounds of dough, which I’ll use to wrap the hams. I also want you to cook the fried honey fritters for the cena secunda. It seems you are already at work on baking the bread.” I assumed Apicius had invited guests according to tradition, meaning there would be nine guests, symbolizing the nine Muses. Still, I could be wrong and being prepared for accidents was wise. Additionally, there were often uninvited guests, “shadows” or “parasites,” who sat at the ends of the couches and would need to be fed.
“If we do not have on hand melons, saffron, morels, chickpeas, pomegranates, lobster, oysters, pears, and snails, you’d better send the fastest boy we have to the market to get them,” I said to Rúan.
A cry rose from the back of the room. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” The voice came from a blue-eyed boy dressed in a ripped tunic, waving his tanned arm around wildly. The boy moved forward. Rúan opened his mouth as if to say something when the boy tripped and crashed into a table. The kitchen slaves shouted as the table toppled, taking with it a dozen brightly colored glass goblets. Several of the slaves lunged to catch some of the glasses but no one was swift enough to save them. They crashed into the tiles, shattering into a thousand rainbow pieces. I closed my eyes and took a deep sigh to keep calm. No doubt those goblets were precious.
“Pallas! You fool! Out! Get out!” Rúan yelled at the boy. Balsamea took him by the shoulder and led him away.
The broken glasses were the least of my worries. Despite the gravity of the situation, I could not stop thinking about Apicius’s last words to me—the instructions not to eat any food I hadn’t directly prepared. I watched the slaves hurry to clean up the mess: Rúan, the ruddy Spaniard with the broom, the girl with the unusual blond hair picking up shards of glass, and all the others milling about. I regarded each of the fifteen slaves, wondering who among them might want to poison me.
Reading Group Guide
This reading group guide for Feast of Sorrow includes an introduction, discussion questions, ideas for enhancing your book club, and a Q&A with author Crystal King. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
On a burning hot day during the twenty-sixth year of the reign of Augustus Caesar, Rome’s famous gourmand Marcus Gavius Apicius hands over an exorbitant amount of money to purchase Thrasius, a young slave who has turned heads as Flavius Maximus’s cook. The slave master promises that Thrasius will make Apicius famous with cooking that will attract throngs of people to his feasts, but the priest that Apicius visits after the purchase foretells a different fate: one of success mingled with failure and darkness. Thrasius shares the story of his time with Apicius and his family. As Apicius grows more obsessed with his legacy, Thrasius falls madly in love with the handmaiden Passia and dreams of their future together. But as Apicius goes to greater and greater lengths to garner the attention that will allow him to take the coveted spot as Caesar’s gastronomic adviser, he grows careless and erratic, taking actions that put his family and his slaves in grave danger. Thrasius’s tale of the man whose name graces the world’s oldest known cookbook gives readers an intimate look at the dark politics and mystical mythology of ancient Rome while posing the timeless question: Is man really the master of his own fate?
Topics and Questions for Discussion
1. The story begins with Thrasius’s account of the day he was purchased by Apicius in Baiae. Why do you think the author chose to make Thrasius the narrator of the story? How might the story be different if it was told from another point of view or from multiple points of view?
2. What significance do birds have in the novel? Why do the characters in the story pay them such attention?
3. What role does food play in ancient Roman culture? Why is Apicius so obsessed with having only the best food at his lavish dinners? What position does he hope to secure through his reputation as Rome’s best gourmand? Is he successful? Why or why not? What effect do these ambitions have on the rest of his life?
4. Consider the motif of betrayal and sabotage. Who betrays or sabotages another character in the book and what is their motivation for doing so? Would you say that their actions are justified? Why or why not? Are they ever brought to justice?
5. Examine the treatment of women in the novel. What do the female characters reveal about the role of women in ancient Roman culture? What do they tell us about marriage, motherhood, and love? Alternatively, what role do they play in Roman politics, culture, and religion?
6. Evaluate the representation of the master-slave relationship in the novel. Why is Thrasius surprised by Sotas’s feelings about his master? How does this relationship compare to Thrasius’s own relationship with Apicius? How does the relationship between Apicius and Thrasius change over the course of the story and what causes this? Why do you think Thrasius stays with Apicius even after Apicius frees him?
7. Many of the characters in the novel rely on prophecies and signs to foretell their future. However, in Chapter 6, Rúan says that he believes man controls his own fate. Does the book ultimately support Rúan’s point of view or does it support the view that fate is beyond our control? Discuss.
8. Evaluate the theme of fidelity. To what are the characters faithful? Alternatively, what causes them to be unfaithful?
9. How is love characterized or defined within the novel? What kinds of love are represented therein? What does Aelia tell her daughter about the role of love in the lives of the wealthy?
10. What role does marriage play in ancient Roman culture? How does the author characterize Apicius’s marriage to Aelia? Why does Apicius refuse to give his permission for Thrasius to marry Passia? Why does Apicius change his mind about allowing Apicata to marry Casca and instead betroth her to Sejanus?
11. What does the book indicate about social mobility during this time period? Are any of the characters able to move beyond the class they are born into? If so, how do they accomplish this? Likewise, is it possible for people of this time to lose their status? If so, how does this happen?
12. What does Apicius want his legacy to be? Is he successful? Why is he so concerned with Pliny, the young boy who attends one of his dinners? What effect does the future historian have on Apicius? Are Apicius’s actions that follow surprising? Why or why not?
13. In the Author’s Note at the end of the text, King discusses the nature of the historical novel, explaining that while Apicius is a character drawn from real life, some of the characters are the product of her own invention. What elements were fictionalized and what purpose might they serve? How might the book be different without these fictionalized elements?
14. Throughout the centuries, food has been a marker of social distinction between the haves and have-nots, even in today’s society. What are the similarities between food/foodie culture of yesteryear and today? How does Apicius or Thrasius compare to today’s celebrity chefs?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. Research ancient Roman culture during the time period represented in Feast of Sorrow. How does King’s account fit in with other historical accounts of this time? What rituals and mythology are represented in King’s novel? Choose a few examples and research them in greater depth, considering why they were important within ancient Roman culture.
2. Use the novel as a starting place to examine the complex role of women in ancient Roman culture. How are the female characters treated in the book? What roles do they play in politics, family life, and religion? Consider how they were both repressed and revered.
3. Have an Apicius-themed dinner party with your book club. Invite your guests to bring dishes inspired by Apicius’s own cookbook or make a few dishes together. Use the recipes printed in Feast of Sorrow as a place to begin or refer to the books recommended in the Author’s Note at the back of the novel: Cooking with Apicius by Sally Grainger (London, England: Marion Boyars, 2006); The Classical Cookbook by Andrew Dalby and Sally Grainger, revised edition (Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, 2012); A Taste of Ancient Rome by Ilaria Gozzini Giacosa, translated by Anna Herklotz (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); Roman Cookery: Ancient Recipes for Modern Kitchens by Mark Grant (Northampton, MA: Interlink Publishing, 2008); The Philosopher’s Kitchen: Recipes from Ancient Greece and Rome for the Modern Cook by Francine Segan (New York: Random House, 2004); and Around the Roman Table by Patrick Faas (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005). You can also visit the author’s website and view additional recipes at CrystalKing.com/culinary-delights.
4. Imagine that you are writing your own cookbook. What recipes would you include in the book to be a part of your legacy and why? Have you chosen these dishes because of their impressive gastronomic qualities or because of something you feel that they represent personally or culturally?
A Conversation with Crystal King
What inspired you to tell the story of the real-life character Apicius, ancient Rome’s most famous gourmand? Can you discuss the novel’s origins?
I was writing a different book about some fantastical knives and I needed an origin story. During my research I came across a snippet of information about Apicius and how he died. I wrote a scene showing Apicius purchasing the knives to give to his chef, who would then pass them on to his apprentice and the knives would continue being handed down through the ages. But the more I wrote about Apicius, the more I realized that his story was the more interesting one. I wanted to know what would make a man decide to end his life in such a dramatic way. You’ll notice, though, that I kept part of the scene in which Apicius gifts the set of knives to Thrasius. The knives may also show up again in the next novel I’m writing.
Why did you make the decision to tell the story from the point of view of Thrasius, his imagined slave and cook?
I struggled with this decision. I began writing the book from Apicius’s point of view but quickly realized that if I did that it would be hard to end the book with the same punch. The number one thing I knew about this person was how he died and I wanted to keep the suspense all the way through to the end of the book. I couldn’t have done that with Apicius as the narrator. Also, Apicius’s life, in my novel, was a series of very tragic decisions. I saw Thrasius as a counterbalance. He is the calm in the storm, the one who holds Apicius together, and, in the end, he is the one who comes out somewhat unscathed.
Since the work is a historical novel, what sources did you consult in order to prepare for writing the book? Can you tell us a little bit about your research process?
After I had the idea for Feast of Sorrow I spent nearly a year only reading books that pertained to my research. I read everything I could get my hands on: anything about ancient food; books about ancient religion, culture, architecture, slavery, politics; and a wide variety of books written in ancient times, ranging from Virgil to Pliny to Cato the Elder. The Metropolitan Museum in New York and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston have incredible ancient Roman collections that enabled me to understand what people may have looked like and how they lived their day-to-day lives. I also spent considerable time in Rome itself, talking with guides and historians about the ancient city, particularly the Roman Forum and the Palatine Hill, walking in the areas where my characters would have walked. When Apicius and Fannia are rushing to the Curia to free Thrasius, for example, I know the path they would have taken because I’ve walked those same roads. Many of the descriptions of items within the novel are taken from ancient places and artifacts I have viewed firsthand, such as the tomb where Thrasius uses the curse tablet, the paintings that decorated the walls of the villas, or the many different types of glassware described at the parties. I took a lot of notes and a lot of photos. To write this book I had to truly be able to picture the world and how the characters moved within it.
Then, once I had done all the research, I had to figure out the best way to weave it all into the novel. There are many passages that were cut from the novel because, while they were interesting, they just didn’t move the plot along. It’s also important not to overwhelm the reader with information, which would be easy to do. And at the same time, I had to paint a world that is quite foreign for many readers. One case in point is that most modern Americans understand slavery in the context of African slavery and the world of Southern plantations before the Civil War. Slavery in ancient Rome was much different, and I had to find the right ways to adjust the reader’s expectations when it came to the slaves within the book.
What information about this time period found during your research was the most surprising to you? Is there any facet of society or living that you feel has not changed much since ancient Roman times?
At first, I was surprised to discover that Roman society was so advanced. They had running water, personal hygiene, libraries, universities, advanced architecture, factories, mathematics, etc. So much of that civilization was lost and destroyed with the expansion of Christianity, which deemed anything Roman as pagan and thus heretical. I cannot help but wonder where would our society be now if that advancement had continued. There are many reasons why ancient Rome fell, but in my mind, the thread that runs through from then until now is the ongoing disagreement centered on religion—whose god is the right god?
What role does food play in your own life? Is it simply a necessity or do you share Apicius’s enthusiasm for food?
I grew up with a very limited palate, with a childhood diet that consisted of hot dogs, Kraft Mac & Cheese, and other sorts of fast, easy-to-make processed food. When I met my husband, Joe, who sold wine for a living at the time, he introduced me to a whole host of foods I would never have imagined eating (mushrooms, artichokes, funky cheeses, foie gras, offal, rabbit, etc.). Now I’ll try most any food at least once. From him, I learned that pairing food and wine was, in some ways, a form of art. From there my interest in food and food culture grew. Later, one of my oldest and dearest friends, Greg McCormick, introduced me to the writings of the famous food writer M. F. K. Fisher, and I was hooked. I loved everything about her work. For me, like so many other people, food is emotional. It is comfort, it is conviviality, and it is also a fascinating differentiator in our culture. I’ve also learned a great deal from the various chefs and bartenders whom I’ve come to know in the Boston restaurant industry. You could call me a “gourmand,” “food nerd,” or “culinary enthusiast,” whichever moniker you think fits. I find it funny that many people who are food lovers are picky about the word “foodie,” but if you want to call me that, go for it.
If you were attending a dinner with a host as enthusiastic about food as Apicius, what delicacies would you most hope to find on your plate?
This is a hard question! One of the most amazing dishes I’ve ever eaten was at Metamorfosi in Rome, Italy. They make a 65-degree sous vide carbonara egg with crispy pasta, fried pork rinds, and Parmesan foam. It was so unusual and it was such a stunning taste in the mouth—I remember thinking that Apicius would have appreciated the wow factor of the dish. I think that a dinner to rival one of Apicius’s would have to be made from the freshest produce and meat, with the finest ingredients, and the courses a mixture of the deliciously simple to the types of foods that would be a showstopper today, like that egg.
Have you made any of the dishes from Apicius’s cookbook? If so, what dish or dishes are you the most drawn to or fascinated by?
I’ve made several dishes from Apicius. The Parthian chicken is one of my favorites. My husband is a great cook and we love to try to re-create the recipes. It’s been one of the most fun things about writing about historical chefs. It’s fun to make recipes that others have interpreted, but it’s even more fun to figure it out on our own. As of this writing we’re working on the sweet-and-sour dill chicken that is found in Apicius. Without any real instructions or proportions, the process is a bit of an experiment. We’ve made it at least four or five times now and I think we’ve almost perfected the recipe. It would be excellent on chicken wings!
You have already been at work writing a new book about another well-known cook. How did Feast of Sorrow influence or inspire your current writing projects? Has this book changed the way that you write?
I’m working on a historical novel about Bartolomeo Scappi, who was the most famous chef of the Renaissance. He was the private cook to several popes and he wrote a cookbook that was a bestseller for more than two hundred years. Both Apicius and Scappi shaped so much of the cooking we know and love today. Yet, what is interesting to me is that very little is known of the lives of these individuals. I love the idea of coming up with stories that are as delicious as the recipes themselves. The second book has been a bit easier to write in that I have a better sense of how to write a book. Feast of Sorrow went through so many edits and I learned a lot about avoiding certain pitfalls the second time around. My second novel won’t be nearly so tragic. It’s a mystery and a love affair and it’s been tremendous fun to write.
As a reader, who are some of the storytellers you find most inspiring and why?
So many authors over many genres have inspired me and my writing. When I was young I loved fairy tales. The Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen kept me dreaming. I have never lost my love for the fantastical or the speculative and I particularly love the works of Margaret Atwood, Stephen King, Catherynne Valente, Haruki Murakami, and Mark Z. Danielewski. The idea of someone creating an entire unfamiliar world and making it feel accessible is intriguing to me.
But history has also inspired me in many ways, clearly, as I’m writing in the historical genre. And really, what is history other than storytelling? Plus, sometimes history can be just as much fiction as fact. Two of my favorite books are The Histories by Herodotus and Benvenuto Cellini’s Autobiography. Herodotus’s book is considered to be the first real attempt to write a book of history. Yet what I love about it is that it is full of hearsay as well as myths and legends that the people of that time believed to be true. And Cellini’s autobiography is a roaring embellishment of his life as a goldsmith during the Renaissance. He was a tortured but successful artist. He was put in jail for murder but got out by the grace of the pope. He tells you how he single-handedly saved the city during the Sack of Rome but conveniently leaves out all the times he was jailed for sodomy. It’s hard to know what is true and what is not and I love that.
One of the best storytellers I have ever encountered is Chuck Palahniuk, the author of Fight Club. I listened to him speak at a writing conference in Boston a few years ago. He told the story of being in Paris to give a speech when he received the news that his grandmother had died. For the entire hour that he spoke I was riveted. My emotions ran the gambit from high to low. When he was finished I realized that I would remember that story forever, it was that powerful.
Can you recommend some of your favorite books about ancient Rome?
Virgil’s Aeneid is still required reading for most Italian schoolchildren. For centuries he has been particularly revered in Italy as their greatest poet, and if you want to become a little bit closer with Italian culture, start there.
I cut my teeth on Robert Graves’s I, Claudius, which is a classic. The history is rather embellished in many places, but it’s a book that opened up a whole world of interest in ancient Rome for readers.
Other books I’ve enjoyed a great deal include Kate Quinn’s Empress of Rome series, Elisabeth Storrs’s Tales of Ancient Rome series, Phyllis T. Smith’s I Am Livia, Michelle Moran’s Cleopatra’s Daughter, L. J. Trafford’s the Four Emperors series, and anything by Steven Saylor, Robert Harris, and Colleen McCullough. David Wishart also has a novel with his take on Sejanus that is a good read.
For pure history, Mary Beard’s SPQR is a must. Anthony Everitt’s Augustus is a comprehensive view of the life of one of the most famous men to ever live. And Tacitus’s Histories and Pliny’s Natural History are still very accessible centuries later.
The characters in Feast of Sorrow are fascinated with fortune-telling and divine signs. Have you ever had your fortune told or are there any mystical signs you pay attention to or look for in your own life?
I had my palm read once, many years ago when I lived in Seattle. The fortune-teller told me that I was going to move to a new place soon and that it would be very beneficial for me. That was true—I moved to Boston about six months later. She also told me that I would have two children, the first of which would come in two years. Nope and nope. However, I do have a good friend who practices astrology and she has read my charts a few times. They’ve always been accurate, even pinpointing the date that my husband asked me to marry him! I’m not sure I would call myself a believer, but I don’t entirely disbelieve either.
I do believe that we have control over our own fates. That said, I have always found that in my life when I am working toward my goals—the ones that truly matter to me—all sorts of doors open up. Synchronicity is a funny thing, and I love when the stars align and everything seems to fall into place.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
I am a fan of historical fiction that is strongly rooted in fact. This book totally delivered! I cared so much for so many characters and felt their struggles acutely. The author writes with a very graphic hand allowing me to clearly see the times and almost smell the elaborate meals.
I really enjoyed the author’s assured writing and the fascinating details of daily Roman life and customs that are woven into the plot – dining customs, religious rituals, rules of hospitality and so on. The focus of the book is the life of Apicius so naturally there are gorgeous descriptions of actual Roman recipes, even if some of the ingredients themselves are not so gorgeous sounding to modern diners. Each section of the book opens with an authentic recipe from the time. Through the invented character of Thrasius, the cook, the author enables the reader to get up close and personal with the real-life Apicius. He is vain and single-minded to the point of selfishness and, as Thrasius remarks, ‘apt to assume the world revolved around him’. However, one cannot help admiring his passion for food and for seeking out new ingredients and taste experiences. Unfortunately, along the way, he creates some powerful enemies although those closest to him show absolute loyalty to the end. Apicius’ story is one of ambition bringing success but with tragic consequences for himself and those around him. As well as Apicius, well-known figures from Roman history feature – Livia, Sejanus, Ovid and Tiberius Caesar – feature prominently in the plot. Political rivalries and the jockeying for position, power and influence are played out through the medium of food at elaborate banquets featuring the choicest and most expensive ingredients. It’s a game of gastronomic one-upmanship but one with dangerous consequences. I really enjoyed Feast of Sorrow which should appeal to fans of historical fiction, cookery or Roman history.
I've always been fascinated by ancient Rome, and thought I had a decent grip on its history from other books, TV programs and visiting the city firsthand, but Crystal King's Feast of Sorrow schooled me in the best possible way -- which is to say the story swept me away to another time, another world. The author's meticulous research is evident from Page 1, but it's the characters who carry the story and offer us a fascinating glimpse into the complex relationships forged within and even across the classes during that time (particularly at extremes--the wealthy and the slaves), and the beliefs and customs (and, yes, tragedies) that made up everyday life under the watchful eyes of the gods. What makes the story delightfully unique is that we see all of this through and around food -- and its early days as not mere sustenance but pure pleasure, experimentation, celebration and a symbol of status. Some of the earliest "foodies," as it turns out, essentially took credit for the work of the talented chefs they enslaved. After all, they owned all that was produced in their kitchens. This is a story of innovation and exploitation, loyalty and love, rivalry and roots. Highly recommend for fans of historical fiction and/or cuisine (and seriously, if you're into both, you're in for a treat).
Ancient Rome is skilfully blended with the history of Roman cuisine in this fabulous new debut novel by author Crystal King. With colorfully faulted characters, she weaves a tale to include every aspect of the dark side of ancient Roman culture: slavery, violence, murder, poisonings, and intrigue. The story's main characters are Apicius, an extremely wealthy and wasteful man who desires fame through culinary extremism, and the talented slave named Thrasius who can fulfill his dreams. The prose flows easily and it is easy to fall into the story. The characters' personalities leap off the pages. The food descriptions tantalize as well as repulse with its numerous unusual ingredients. There were plenty of machinations and subplots that kept me riveted to the end. I love Ancient Rome and this was a great read.
I read this book in two days, and I feel mildly ungrateful, like the guests at one of Apicius's great feasts. I got to experience this embarrassment of decadence so casually, when it's obvious King put a great deal of work into its execution. One of the best things about the book is it doesn't show--the story isn't labored or forced. The plot is fast-paced, engaging, horrifying, so sensational and engrossing I could hardly believe many of the most lurid events were true history--which makes it all the better, of course. There's an interesting detail about daily life in Ancient Rome on just about every page, and I kept wanting to stop to take notes... only of course I didn't want to stop, because I wanted to see what happened next. I particularly like that King uses the real Latin words for things like parts of a Roman villa or the names of certain types of priests. Possibly best part of Feast of Sorrow is the sympathy I felt not only for its protagonist but also for its minor characters--even its antagonists. I loved Apicius's older, tart-tongued female friend Fannia in particular. All of the characters felt both distinctly of their time (full of superstitions about the gods and about astronomy... reading their future in animal entrails) and completely relatable, totally human in their relationships and interactions. I really like it when a book of historical fiction takes such alien attitudes and wild experiences and makes them wholly coherent to us as we follow the narrative. Thrasius, the main character, makes an excellent audience proxy, and we get to enjoy his upward trajectory even as we track Apicius through his downfall. It's a neat handling of the story and gives readers the best of both worlds: comedy and tragedy. I don't want to spoil this book--it's worth a read. Up there on my list of top ten books of historical fiction, right alongside Noah Gordon's The Physician and Marguerite Yourcenar's Memoirs of Hadrian.
Different. Great story. Excellent character development. Helps if you have been to Rome. Historical fiction at its best.
I am voluntarily submitting my honest review after receiving an ARC of this ebook from NetGalley. After reading this book, I am still simply stunned by the quality of the story, the writing, the characters and the vivid world the author transports the reader to in each and every scene. While I can often recommend a particular book for fans of historical fiction, romance, thrillers, etc., it is a rare and wondrous thing when I can honestly say that I believe anyone who enjoys a damn good story would enjoy this book. The amount of detail in this book is just perfect--enough to paint a vivid picture of the very texture of life in ancient Rome, but not so much that it becomes too cumbersome or makes the book read more like a dry history tome. While the story revolves around a man who uses a chef to further his ambitions, the culinary delights (or horrors, as the case may be) are only a part of the rich tapestry woven into the novel--all of the high arts and the more pedestrian elements, including curse tablets and the functioning of households--are included in the cultural portrait drawn as the backdrop for the Game of Thrones-style political machinations that make this book so addicting. I will definitely be on the lookout for more from this author, and I encourage anyone who enjoys reading to BUY THIS BOOK!!!
I'm conflicted. This book was left me both wanting more and not at the same time. I'm a huge fan of historical dramas and Feast of Sorrow reminded me of those, but I tend to like watching them versus reading. Imagine Rome sprawling before you across a table, all the intricate little details from daily life wrapped in political intrigue and a society darker than you might expect. Well, I don't know, this is Rome we're talking about. King creates a sensory exploration of this ancient culture through food but Feast of Sorrow branches well beyond that to the inner workings of those feasting. I'm not much of a food person so I'm glad that the story didn't revolve solely around what meal is being planned for so-and-so and how it was prepared, and so on. One of the many draws for me for this book was the fact that the scene is set, the table made, and the people run the show, their lives offering an insight into history that, while a fictional book, prove that the author really dove into the research to present such an amazing narrative. I think one of the many strengths of this book is how King makes this society so accessible to modern readers. While set thousands of years in the past, there are still similarities with human ambition, deceit, scheming, gossip, elements that will captivate fans of history and drama alike. Honestly, I would love to see this as a television series, like HBO's Rome as well as other historical dramas such as Marco Polo on Netflix. Honestly, there are far too many characters to speak of but let's just say that King knows how to create a story meant to intrigue and delight. This isn't necessarily an entirely happy story but it's expertly written and perfect for fans of food, drama, and history.
This book is INCREDIBLE. Seriously. Set in Ancient Rome, it blends the scandals of real-life historical figures with the drama of the fictional Thrasius, a slave and companion to famed gourmand Apicius. It's clearly well-researched and richly detailed, making the story engrossing and impossible to put down. I couldn't put it down!
I read this 400+ page book in about 72 hours and I loved every page. It's old school fun: great characters, fabulous sense of place, evocative detail, drama in spades, and satisfying emotional peaks and dips. The novel's narrator is Thrasius, a young slave gifted in cooking. He's purchased by Apicius, an immensely wealthy Roman determined to use his fortune, fabulous parties, and appreciation of exquisite cuisine to gain power with Caeser and his heirs. Thankfully, Thrasius' reputation isn't exaggerated, and his skill and imagination in the kitchen -- combined with the rare, unusual, and expensive ingredients Apicius buys -- launches them both -- but also pulls them into a terrible rivalry that ends in unimaginable tragedy. If you're not familiar with Apicius, don't wiki him; just enjoy King's revealing of his life. As I said on social media more than once, I was dubious there would be anything really sorrowful or dramatic about the life of a chef and his gourmand, but whooboy, was I wrong! Who knew that being Caeser's culinary advisor would be so fraught? (Actually, I should of known. Those Romans, everything is so.serious.) Everything about this book captivated me. Thrasius is a wonderful narrator, and every character, down to the tertiary ones, are vibrantly rendered. The villains are breathlessly appalling (again, the Romans know how to double down on evil!) and King renders the many tragedies so well, I went through about three tissues as the book wound down. This was just a fabulous read -- a top ten for 2017.
Captivating from start to finish, Crystal King's FEAST OF SORROW immerses the reader in the alluring yet unpredictable world of Ancient Rome. Thrasius, a slave who is uniquely gifted in the culinary arts, has everything to gain when he is brought into the household of the fame-hungry Apicius. Yet when Apicius' greed and blind ambition soars to unsustainable heights, Thrasius' fate and that of the other characters hang in delicate balance. This is the 'meat' that drives the novel forward. As garnish, King serves up delectable, sensory descriptions and a complex cast of characters for whom we root and laugh and cry and raise multiple glasses of wine. A wonderful feast, indeed; one that will leave you both satiated and salivating for more from this talented new voice.
Feast of Sorrows reminded me of HBO’s show Rome (which I thought was an amazing show). This story lived up to my expectations, with a spectacular portrayal of intrigue, shrewd political maneuvering, and human greed that had me hooked. I flew through the pages from start to finish. The level of detail provided about ancient Rome—the food, customs, and way of life— transported me to that place and time, and I felt fully immersed. The characters drew me in, especially the main character Thrasius, who is servant, head chef and friend to Apicius, one of the wealthiest and most ambitious men in Rome. Thrasius is loyal, but sometimes disappointed in his master. Apicius achieves glory through his parties, cooking school and recipes, and he realizes it is largely due to the efforts of Thrasius, his trusted advisor. Thrasius serves as a filter through which we see the folly of Apicius’ reckless actions, but we also understand why Thrasius stays devoted to a man who can sometimes be very generous. There is plenty of family drama, both betrayal and acts of bravery. The plot accelerates as time passes, building to a shocking—but perhaps inevitable—finale. Apicius must pay for his blind ambition, which also affects Thrasius, who must witness what fate has in store. This was a very enjoyable book! 5 stars!
Crystal King, historical fiction writer, has written an epic story of politics, romance, fabulous food, and relationships, causing the reader to be fully invested in all the people who inhabit her tale of Ancient Rome, from the slaves to the ruling class. It's a well-written book that thoroughly entertains while it also teaches about the culture, dangers, intrigues, and power plays during the reign of Augustus Caesar. Crystal has written a compelling and dramatic novel in which she describes the life of Marcus Gavius Apicius, the first-ever uber-wealthy foodie, and his slave/chef Thrasius. Highly recommend!!
Apicius, Apicius, Apicius. What a character. He is deplorable at times, and yet somehow I finished Feast of Sorrow with a softness for him. In other words, King has done a tremendous job of building him as a complete and complicated character with all of his humanity - beauty and faults alike. In fact, that was my favorite part of this novel: the depth of the characterization for each of the people depicted. Their varied personalities and relationships were what drew me into this world of ancient Rome, and I devoured this story quickly, completely immersed in the these characters' often painful but always rich lives. I stayed up much past my bed time to finish Feast of Sorrow, and then when I did, my head was spinning with so many emotions and reactions it was impossible to bring myself back from Rome. (Is there a better reason to be exhausted?) So be forewarned, the ending is a doozy! Normally I wouldn't think to pick up historical fiction, but I loved this novel so much I was sad to turn the last pages. King has whetted my appetite for this genre (ha! - see what I did there?), and I certainly hope in the future I have the privilege of reading much more from her.