Recipe Source: Anthimus. On The Observance of Foods. Mark Grant, trans. Prospect Books, Devon, 1996 p. 71
Planning meals for camping can be tough. All right, it doesn't have to be. You can just eat baked beans or beef stew from a can, heated over a tiki torch, if that's what you have to do. I myself have consumed hot dogs cooked on sticks over a fire. We've been going to this one camp in Maine every summer since we started dating, and I can assure you that we don't eat that way there. (For one thing, the site doesn't allow fire pits.) The dinner has gotten a bit bigger every year and I'd say we feed between thirty and fifty people at this shindig – and it's almost all with stuff we can fit into two coolers. Other people contribute, of course, which makes it even more fun. Since we're camping with a bunch of medieval history enthusiasts, I've tried for the past couple of years to make as many of the dishes documentably medieval as I can.
Medieval food, contrary to what I certainly believed in my youth, did not consist entirely of gruel. People had taste buds then just as they have taste buds now, and a look at any of the medieval cookbooks available in translation will show you a treasure trove of delicious delicacies from centuries long gone by. The problem I have lies in finding recipes that a) can be made ahead and brought into camp, b) can be re-heated in primitive facilities, c) can tolerate life in an overstuffed cooler rather than in a proper refrigerator, and d) are interesting enough to be worth the effort. That's a little more challenging… And that's why this recipe appealed to me so much.
Anthimus was a Byzantine physician exiled to the court of the Ostrogoths in the beginning of the 6th century AD. He was sent from there to be the ambassador to the Frankish court, which seemed (to him, at least) to be even more barbaric than the Ostrogothic court. This book, which is really just a really long letter, is intended to show the Frankish king which foods are healthy and how to prepare them (sometimes.) I've seen this described (including on the back of my copy) as the first French cookery book. I'm not sure about that – after all, the author was Greek and picked up quite a bit in Italy – but it was at least written for people who became French.
So what about this recipe appealed to me, besides it being a very early-period dish? Well, it has three ingredients. That's a good start. If I left the melons whole until I got there, it would be very easy to transport and wouldn't need refrigeration. It was colorful and it was easy. Really, it doesn't get much better than that, whether you're re-creating a medieval recipe or pulling something together for the family trip to the Adirondacks.
I'm not sure when watermelons made it up to Western Europe, but I strongly suspect that they were not the "melons" intended by Dr. Anthimus. In all honesty, I did purchase cantaloupes and Tuscan melons. Unfortunately transportation was less kind to them than I would have hoped, and some of them went spectacularly bad before the party. Someone else had brought some watermelon, and to stretch the dish out to its original proportions I added it to the mix. It did make the dish prettier, didn't it?
Melons with Vinegar (serves about 50; approx. cost per serving not available)
1 mini-watermelon, cut into chunks
3 cantaloupes, cut into chunks
½ cup white wine vinegar
½ cup water
Equipment:
- Small bowl
- Arrange the melon chunks in an attractive way on the platter. (I had help in this from Nikki and Andrew.)
- Combine the vinegar and water in the small bowl. Mix very well to ensure that the vinegar is well diluted.
- Sprinkle the diluted vinegar over the melons.
- Serve.

