Meals, Mealtimes, and Menus

As we saw in the previous chapter, the cook had many resources available to him for planning and executing a meal, but he also had to deal with special requests for specific foods or dishes. These requests came from his boss as we will see in the various letters written in search of a favorite recipe, like the one by Federico II Gonzaga asking how to make “involtini ripieni,” which he had eaten while in Ferrara.^[1] As well, requests could come from a special guest; for example, Pope Sixtus V asked for specific foods—artichokes, fennel, quince, turkey, and large, fat capons—for a banquet he attended in 1589 hosted by the duke and duchess of Castel Gandolfo.^[2] The cook also had to deal with foods given to his boss as gifts. But the cook was not alone in planning the meal; the steward oversaw the entire process and managed the serving of the head table, while the cook coordinated intricate kitchen work very closely with the unpredictable timing of the steward’s demands.^[3] We’ll explore the different variables in planning a meal, the range and types of meals, menus, and the cost of a meal. One of the most significant variables in planning a meal was the number to be fed as well as the time and location. But we will begin this chapter with an overview of eating habits and mealtimes, looking at the various options open to those who were hungry and their food preferences such as mortadella from the Romagna region, quail, carp, or artichokes. Letters, chronicles, and culinary treatises all help us to understand which foods were preferred and how they were prepared. We’ll see how hands-on some people (Isabella d’Este, for example) were when it came to food. We’ll see the cook in action as he manages the staff we discussed in chapter 3; we’ll investigate how he dealt with finicky eaters and his approach to the seasonality of ingredients. This is about the orchestration of the meal—how it all comes together—whether for a simple meal or grand banquet.

Eating Habits and Mealtimes

When did people eat and what did they prefer to eat? In Ferrara, Cardinal Ippolito d’Este and his household ate three times a day, beginning in the morning with a snack (bread and wine) to break the fast; this was followed by the midday meal and supper in the evening.^[4] Renaissance mealtimes, as in the late Middle Ages, varied. Unlike Ippolito, people generally ate two meals a day: dinner—the midday, main meal (pranzo, formerly desinare)—composed of several courses, and an evening meal (cena), a lighter meal, often a single course created from the leftovers from the earlier meal.^[5] As time progressed, however, the midday meal often moved later in the day. To confuse the matter, most banquets, with their elaborate menus, were held in the evening, depending on whether or not it was a private, intimate banquet among friends like the one hosted by Agostino Chigi (April 30, 1518) for his friend Pope Leo X who was accompanied by fourteen of his cardinals and a few ambassadors; the meal took place at Chigi’s home in Rome, the Villa Farnesina in a new building above the Tiber.^[6] The room was completely hung with rich tapestries, and the credenza was piled high with silver plate. They were celebrating the feast of St. Catherine, and since it was a Friday, the main course consisted of two large eels and a sturgeon reputed to cost 250 ducats. Or it could be a grand, public banquet like the one hosted by the duke and duchess of Castel Gandolfo in honor of Pope Sixtus V (1589), for example. This was a complex affair with some three hundred guests and meant the transformation of spaces throughout the castello from the sala grande to the staff dining room.^[7] It involved extensive planning over a period of several days—perhaps weeks—in advance. Several meals had to be prepared for the pope’s two or three day visit.

And there were more opportunities for a meal in this period. Take, for example, the collation. In the Middle Ages, this was a very light snack: a drink and a morsel of bread taken just before bedtime.^[8] By the mid-fifteenth century, the collation became an elegant little meal, sometimes at the end of a banquet after dancing or theatrical presentations; but it could also happen in between the two and was usually drinks and sweets.^[9] Yet at the banquet held by Cardinal Pietro Riario at his palace in Rome in honor of Eleonora, daughter of Ferdinand I of Aragon and king of Naples (June 7, 1473), the meal started with a collation of sweets, which they ate standing: trays of sweetmeats and candied fruit covered with gold leaves and accompanied by painted glasses of Malvasia.^[10] At the end of the meal, as Eleonora wrote in a letter to Diomede Carafa describing the event (June 10, 1473), another “confectione per la collatione” was served prior to a dance of Hercules with five men and nine women.^[11] After attending a dinner hosted by the marchese of Bitont in Naples (November 12, 1514) and then going to another room to listen to music for a couple of hours, Isabella d’Este was served a “bravissima collatione alla foggia” accompanied by trumpets and pipes.^[12]

Yet, Domenico Romoli, in his La singolare dottrina, outlined menus for collations both in the morning and in the evening. For example, the heading for a June daily menu “Convito di Giugno per la sera alla Francese” (an evening banquet in June in the French style, June 2, 1546) began with a “collatione per la mattina posta la tavola” (morning collation placed on the table) with only a single course: round “ciambellette” (small ring-shaped buns); sweet eggplant with sugar; Bolognese sausage; sliced, cold capons; iced pears; and fennel.^[13] The menu for the morning collation is followed by the menu for the evening six-course supper (cena). Romoli’s evening collations followed a simple four-course meal: “del mangiare ordinario ogni giorno” (to eat every day) and are part of nearly every one of his evening menus; the evening collations had salads, stewed raisins, stewed asparagus, cardoons, and fennel.^[14] One of Romoli’s evening^[15] collations was rather elaborate—“collatione a un modo solenne per la sera di Natale” (a solemn evening collation for Christmas) with twenty-five dishes, including a plate of golden, ring-shaped buns (“ciambelle”), a plate of marzipan with gold leaf, a plate of frittelle “di Monache,” four plates of ricotta made of almond milk, a plate of stuffed eggplant, a plate of marinated trout, four plates of olives from Spain, and four plates of stuffed dates, all served with wine “Greco di Somma,” trebbiano, and “della Riccia rossa.” Ultimately, the collation became “collazione,” a morning meal or breakfast.

A Collation in Trastevere

As well, the collation (collatione) was an informal evening meal—a third meal—with fewer servers and suitable for outdoors, perhaps, in one of Rome’s elegant private gardens. Foods were eaten while walking about; finger foods that could be eaten without a knife, fork, or spoon.^[16] By the sixteenth century, the collation became more sumptuous, like the one held on Friday, May 31, after Vespers, in a garden in Trastevere.^[17] While Bartolomeo Scappi does not specify who attended the meal, it seems likely that his boss, Pope Pius V, invited the forty guests to join him. The tables were adorned with three tablecloths, flowers, and greenery; the wine steward had a variety of sweet wines available; and the credenza was outfitted for meal service. In attendance were eight stewards and four carvers. There was scented water for washing hands. Each place setting had a napkin with a large “ciambelli” (ring-shaped bun) made with milk, eggs, sugar, and butter. The staff served three courses to the waiting guests, who were entertained with a variety of musical performances. At the first course, the tables were decorated with sugar sculptures of Diana with five nymphs, and the guests were served twenty-six items (eight plates of each) ranging from dressed olives to fresh strawberries with clotted cream and sugar. Once finished, the staff cleared the tables and reset for the second course; the tables were adorned with six statues made of butter, one of which was an elephant and another Hercules and the lion. Twenty-four dishes (eight plates of each) were presented to the guests, including tender young fava beans in their pods to be eaten raw with salt, baby artichokes cooked in butter with bitter orange and pepper, bite-sized chunks of Parmesan cheese, and fresh green almonds, split and served on vine leaves. Again the table was cleared and the statues replaced with six more made of pasta reale, including Helen of Troy and a nude Venus. For the final course, the guests were given eighty-eight bowls of candied fruits: pears, coconuts, apricots, melon, and quince paste, as well as 128 plates of various nuts: almonds, pistachios, and pine nuts. At the end of the meal, each guest received a posy of silk flowers with golden stems and perfumed toothpicks. This collation, then, was a stand-alone meal served around seven or eight o’clock in the evening and was not part of a banquet.

Eating Habits and Serving Leftovers

With the variety of mealtimes, what were the eating habits of the household, and when did each household member or guest actually eat? In a grand household, especially at a banquet, the prince and his ranking guests received the first helping. Thus, the head table was served first; what was left over from this table went to the lower or lesser tables, therefore, they ate later. At the Gonzaga court in Mantua, rules governed who should be served first and how leftovers were to be handled: “The leftovers from the master’s table must be served at the third table and other leftovers carried to each of the credenze where there should be a basket with pewter plates on which food can be placed so that it is not transported on silver plate. . . . There will be the master’s dish made up from food saved and served cold at the evening meal. The steward will save this on the same silver dish in the credenza to be served when he deems appropriate, garnishing this dish in such a way that it does not look as if it was already served.”^[18] Quantity, quality, and order of servings were determined by social rank. How quickly were the guests at the lesser tables served? If it were a cold dish, for example, the steward of the guests’ and courtiers’ tables might remove it from the head table on a silver platter to the credenza and trim and garnish the dish as he saw fit, so it looked fresh upon presentation at the next table. Anything that was “unbroken” the steward saved for reuse for those at the lesser tables; but the steward of the tinello (staff dining room) took what was not reusable for the servants and staff, who ate much later than everyone else and certainly had a less elegant meal.^[19] We can sum it up this way: the head table was served the best dishes first, then the lesser tables received the finest of the leftovers, and finally, the servants received the bits and pieces that were not presentable to any of the guests, no matter their rank. Of course, not everyone ate in the same room; we have already seen that staff ate in their own designated dining room, the tinello. But sometimes even guests and courtiers ate in adjoining rooms; this was certainly the case at the 1466 Medici wedding in Florence, where, as we saw in chapter 2, Giovanni Rucellai and his bride, Nannina, daughter of Piero de Medici, and the most prestigious guests ate in the tent erected especially for the event, while lesser-ranked guests ate in the loggia and in rooms adjacent to it.^[20] As well, at the banquet (1589, Castel Gandolfo) hosted by the duke and duchess in honor of Pope Sixtus V, several rooms throughout the residence were transformed into dining spaces for guests.^[21] Presumably, those guests would not have been aware of how the dishes they received were handled, but we will return to dining spaces in the following chapter.

Letter Writing and Food Preferences

Many of these diners wrote about what they ate, but not just about the banquets they attended; these letters are, perhaps, the most common and provide us with information about the variety of dishes served and with descriptions of the settings and entertainments. Moreover, the writers were engaged in a written conversation about food, eating habits, health issues, and dietary concerns; we are only concerned with a sampling of the letters here, mostly from the courts of northern Italy; nearly everyone seemed to take part in the discourse. We learn what foods people preferred and their attitudes toward particular foods or dishes. Many of the writers were seeking a specific item to try, like Isabella d’Este who wanted a particular type of mortadella, so she wrote to Leonello da Baesio and to Battista Stabellino about a mortadella as an alternative to prosciutto that came from the Romagna rather than from the Po region; she also requested zambudelli and robiole cheeses, again saying that those from the Romagna were better than those from the Po valley. At the same time, she asked about peas and fava beans that she wanted to send to her brother, Alfonso, the duke of Ferrara.^[22] Or, after a particularly fine meal, the writer might request a recipe for an especially appealing dish, as Federico II Gonzaga (Isabella’s son) did after eating a plate of “involtini ripieni” in Ferrara.^[23] Because he was so fond of this dish, Federico wrote to Hieronomo Forno, chief steward at the court in Ferrara, and asked if he could send someone to Ferrara to show his cook how to make them; instead, Forno sent him the recipe. Or food was given as a gift, as Guila Sforza Pallavicini did when she sent Ottavio Farnese, duke of Parma and Piacenza, several crates of artichokes because she knew how much he liked them. Letters about food reflect an individual’s preferences as we have already seen with Isabella: Bianca Maria Visconti, for example, particularly liked quail and she wrote to her husband Francesco, thanking him for sending forty-six of them.^[24] As well, we will see the importance of fish in the diet, the debate over the health value of vegetables, and what was most highly prized: truffles and mushrooms, for example.

Let’s look more closely at a few of these letters to see what else we can learn about eating habits and food. The letters between Francesco II Gonzaga, marchese of Mantua (and Isabella d’Este’s husband) and his chief steward, Ludovico Fontana (appointed in 1509), show the hands-on approach of Francesco in terms of the acquisition of specific foods and his interest in food trends; and, in turn, Ludovico’s response illustrates his close working relationship with his boss.^[25] Francesco requested certain things like fish from Lake Garda, so Ludovico sent him two large trout and four fresh carp, as well as sea bass and sardines. Ludovico wrote that, given Francesco’s exquisite palate, he chose only fish of the finest quality. As well, he noted that partridges and hares were not available or not good enough and he included a list of other foods that Francesco might like to consider—a sort of shopping list; many of his other letters contained lists as well. Isabella d’Este was equally involved in obtaining only the highest quality ingredients and critical of Mantua’s chief cook. In response to Federico’s letter to Forno, discussed above, Isabella noted that the cook at Ferrara (her hometown) was far better than theirs at Mantua, and as we saw in chapter 3, she did actively seek a better cook, apparently, without much success as she continued searching over a number of years. Federico must have agreed with Isabella; in a subsequent letter, he asked Forno to make him some good things to eat (“cose buone da mangiare”), and Forno responded saying he would make whatever Federico wanted.^[26]

Food preferences become apparent as we look over letters requesting or inquiring about a particular item. A series of letters written by and to Isabella d’Este, for instance, illustrate her interest in a variety of cheeses, including a “formaggio duro,” tomini, robiole, and ricotta.^[27] In a letter to Ferdinando d’Este (“parente”—a relative), Isabella extolled the virtues of grana and, as a sign of her love, sent him two. Some years later, her farm manager, Bartolomeo Pancera, wrote to Isabella telling her that he was sending her head steward salami and the cheeses that she liked. Cheese was an important addition to the table at Mantua even before Isabella’s time, and this discerning court preferred cheeses made from bufala (water buffalo) milk rather than from cow’s milk. In 1477, Ludovico II Gonzaga wrote to his wife, Barbara of Brandenburg, about the cheese he was sending her: one firm cheese and fresh ricotta made from their own bufala milk; he told her it had a better flavor than cheese made with cow’s milk.^[28] Twenty-five years later, Isabella also wrote to Leonello da Baesio about the superiority of cheese made with their bufala milk.^[29]

As we have already seen, giving and receiving food was fairly common, but let’s consider a few more examples that are enlightening in terms of what was sent and what motivated people to send food as gifts. In 1462, Barbara sent her husband Ludovico some fresh carp along with a wine from Alba and vin santo.^[30] Some years later, Isabella received from her husband two melons and trebbiano wine, and she in turn sent him lots of wine, six torts, six “maze de candelotti,” and twelve large boxes of confetti and twelve of marzipan, to make her “love” happy, while he was in Florence.^[31] Husbands and wives sent food and wine to each other in part to make sure their spouse had what they liked, for health purposes, and to make sure each was eating properly. Food was also sent within families, for example, Isabella d’Este was a great giver of food, as we have already seen. In 1528 she sent her sister-in-law, the duchess of Urbino, thirty-six pieces of salami of the highest quality that was produced in Mantua; it was sent as a show of love and perhaps to show off just what Isabella had to offer and what she herself considered top quality.^[32] On the other hand, some gift giving was of a more diplomatic nature. On June 10, 1493, for example, Ludovico il Moro and Beatrice d’Este (Isabella’s sister) received shrimp and a variety of fish from the Lord (“Castellano”) of Rocca San Secondo near Parma in gratitude and homage.^[33]

By the early sixteenth century, vegetables were frequently discussed in letters. Sometimes a particular dish was praised, like the exquisite “pasta di questo frutto della terra,” which Alfonso d’Este ate in Venice; he praised, as well, a salad made of endive.^[34] Or vegetables were given as gifts. Once again, Isabella d’Este sent leafy cabbage to her brother Alfonso; she told him that it was for a salad that she wanted him to try. She wrote out the recipe: “take the leaves from the core of the cabbage and put them in boiling water for a short time, take the pot off the heat, remove the cabbage from the water and dress it with olive oil and vinegar as a salad. You will like this strangeness (‘stranieza’).”^[35] Alternatively, the nutritional value of certain vegetables came into question; Isabella d’Este, for instance, wondered about the health value of gourds^[36] and avoided eggplant, which, at the time, was considered to be Jewish and peasant food, whereas asparagus, both Barbara of Brandenburg and Federico II Gonzaga decided, was without a doubt healthy to eat and tasty.^[37] Concerned about his health and nutrition, Federico became interested in the curative herb called “ramponzoli” or “raperonzoli” and obtaining seeds, not just for this but other vegetables as well.^[38] Ramponzoli (Campanula rapunculup or rapunzel; also called Canterbury bell) had violet flowers and oval leaves and was used to stimulate the appetite. It was cultivated for its flowers and for its roots, which are white and sweet. Years before (1460), Barbara of Brandenburg wrote to her husband about “ramponzoli” that she wished to have in her garden, as did Isabella d’Este when she wrote to her brother, in 1528, asking for seeds of the herb, which she liked with fish.^[39] The letters exchanged between Federico and Sinibaldo Freschi in Genoa discuss olives from Spain, capers, squash, cauliflower, and even artichokes and cardoons. Federico asked Sinibaldo for seeds so that he could grow his own vegetables—gardening, then, and the acquisition of seeds became part of the discourse: cultivating specific vegetables like radishes, “ramponzoli,” white chickpeas, “fiori di lauro,” and those already listed above was a high priority. Artichokes were a particular favorite at the Este court in Ferrara and were cultivated there; Isabella took her passion for them to Mantua, and her son Federico found great pleasure in eating them and giving artichokes to his friends.^[40]

Yet, even though artichokes were highly prized in both Ferrara and Mantua, it was mushrooms and truffles that were considered extraordinary. As early as the 1460s, Barbara of Brandenburg and her husband, Ludovico II Gonzaga, sung the praises of both; they sought them out whenever possible, especially truffles.^[41] And of course, Isabella d’Este had a great passion for small mushrooms called “brognoli,” which she sought from Vincenzo di Preti in Bologna; she preferred a particular type of mushroom—just any type would not do—and Federico fancied a mushroom at Marmirola found in the woods called “La Fontana.”^[42] Every wood had a different variety, and Bianca Maria Visconti favored a certain type of mushroom found in the woods near Milan; her son, Galeazzo Maria, made every effort to send them to her whenever he could as in 1467 when he sent her a dozen.^[43] But perhaps her greatest passion was truffles, especially those she received from Franchino Caymo.^[44] Truffles held a similar esteem for both Isabella and Federico; she sought them out with equal passion and determination. And she sent her brother Alfonso a box of thirty-seven truffles.^[45]

Gardening was not limited to vegetables; rather, a variety of fruit was also cultivated, and, as we have seen already, Isabella d’Este often took the lead in obtaining the finest examples like the bergamotte pears she had Bagio Tassano, the gardener at Ferrara, plant for her brother Alfonso; her son Federico loved them, too.^[46] Apricots, dates, chestnuts, pistachios, and almonds were also favored at the Gonzaga and Este courts, while Bianca Maria Visconti (1467) favored fruits of all kinds, as did her son: apples, apricots, cherries, figs, lemons, peaches, and almonds. Her daughter, Ippolita, wife of Alfonso of Aragon, sent her boxes of a variety of fruits from Naples,^[47] while her son, Ludovico il Moro, sent her almonds in exchange for cherries.^[48] A wide range of opinions about and requests for various fruits fill the letters of this period; certain fruits like pears and prunes were used as remedies. Bianca Maria, for example, was convinced of the curative powers of a mixture of sweet prunes and rhubarb, which she gave to her son who was suffering from stomach and intestinal problems; and of course, they did the trick as she noted in a letter of 1462.^[49]

Beyond the Lent and fast days, fish was a significant part of the diet all year round, at least at Ferrara, Mantua, and Milan. Letters are filled with references to fish, obtaining varieties, sending it as gifts, and ordering it and how to cook it, with numerous handwritten recipes included in the letters. Ludovico il Moro ate fish every Monday and Thursday regardless of the calendar.^[50] He had fresh fish sent to him regularly from Bianchino de Palude, his property manager at Abbiategrossa and also from Vigevano, which were obtained from three fishermen: Vicentio dal Pozo, Francisco Tacinaro, and Biaso di Cotti. He was particularly fond of large lamprey and sardines from Genoa; he liked to eat them cooked or raw.^[51] His mother’s favorite was trout, and her husband, Francesco, who apparently was a fisherman, too, sent them to her regularly; other times he sent her sturgeon.^[52] On the other hand, Isabella d’Este was passionate about eel, preferring the sweet water variety over those from the sea; one of her favorite preparations was salted eel from Lake Garda.^[53] In fact, both the Mantuan and Ferrarese courts were grand fish eaters. In 1518, Francesco II Gonzaga ordered large quantities of tench, fresh water pike, eel, mullet, and sea bass; and on another occasion, Isabella sought fish from the sea including mussels, shrimp, mullet, turbot, and flounder—an almost endless variety of fish graced their tables.^[54] Yet, the ultimate favorite was carp and, to a slightly lesser degree, mullet. Both Isabella and Francesco sent carp as gifts—hundreds of them—as a sign of friendship; for instance, a list from 1515 contains the names of those receiving the fish and the number of carp each person received. The pope received 140, both the Medici family and the cardinal of Ferrara received thirty-five, and the ambassador to the king of Spain received twenty-five; the names go on, twenty-seven names in all.^[55] The letters between the courts and the purveyors of carp are seemingly endless and speak to its importance, as we see in one letter from Isabella to her secretary, Benedetto Capilupi, and his response: he bought three hundred carp from the lake at Salo, which were considered premium quality, the best anywhere.^[56] Yet, Isabella’s son Federico preferred mullet, especially served with vinegar.^[57] Their love of fish and seafood must have been well known; the great Venetian painter, Titian, in 1530, sent two hundred oysters to Federico.^[58] Sturgeon was a favorite in Rome. Cardinal Grimani, hosting a meal at his palace in that city in 1523, served a variety of fresh-caught fish, but the highlight was a sturgeon whose head was bigger than that of a large steer and cost 18 gold ducats.^[59]

Many of these letters either explained favorite ways to have fish prepared or included recipes. For Isabella d’Este the variety of fish and the many ways it could be prepared was an innovative, new cuisine, which resulted in many refined dishes that she encouraged her brother to try.^[60] In her letter to Alfonso, she told him how to prepare it: “try conserving fresh carp and trout in vinegar, trust me, it will be very good”—and she sent him a vase with twelve carp and trout in vinegar—then she told him: “trout is truly best heated in a pan, believe me, it’s better this way”^[61] (this wording makes me think she actually cooked them herself, though that is doubtful). She sent him, as well, twelve salted carp. The conversation between the two is direct. The recipes and tips on preparation are not sent to Alfonso’s steward or cook; rather, Isabella engaged her brother in a lively discourse about fish and its preparation. In another letter of 1523, she not only sent her brother nine shad and four trout from Lake Garda, but once again she explained that the shad should be grilled in the same manner as sardines and that he would find them very good.^[62] Recipes were frequently included in letters praising certain dishes and how they were prepared, and as we will see later in this chapter, the recipes were not limited to fish.

Of course, everyone ate meat, poultry, and game, but not in the quantities or proportions they did in the Middle Ages. It is of interest to note that at the Visconti and Sforza courts in Milan from the mid- to late fifteenth century, deer, roebuck, wild boar, and even the occasional wolf were still eaten in some quantities, as were partridges, peacocks, hare, quail, and guinea fowl. The letters to and from Bianca Maria Visconti show her love of peacocks, deer, partridge, and hare, which her son Galeazzo Maria frequently sent her.^[63] Pork, veal, capons, and other fowl remained favorites both at Milan and at the courts of Ferrara and Mantua, where from the beginning of the sixteenth century, guinea fowl was also enjoyed. What’s of interest for us here is the change in diet—less large game (ca. 1502–1503, Isabella) and a greater interest in fish, fowl, and pork, and this is reflected in the letters. There is less interest in writing about veal or pork (except for things like salami and mortadella as we saw with Isabella) or domestic fowl, perhaps because they were a staple, coming from their own farms, and so were readily available. Bread, sweets, macaroni, and tortelli were also part of the discourse, but to a lesser degree than vegetables, fruits, cheese, or fish. Grains were discussed, but mostly in terms of farming, production, and yield, not so much as a food, whereas sweets were—especially in connection to an upcoming “festa.” Isabella’s favorites were schiacciata, focaccia, ciambella, and dolce cotta al forno,^[64] as was macaroni.^[65]

And a meal would not be complete without wine. As Platina stated, “Dinner and lunch without drink (wine, which moistens the food) is not only considered unpleasant, but also unhealthy, since a draught is more welcome and pleasant to the thirsty person than food to a hungry person.”^[66] While Platina suggested dry or sweet wine, other wines were also favored. Isabella and Federico, for example, were particularly fond of Malvasia dolce, a strong, sweet wine; they grew their own grapes and made their own wine. Ippolito d’Este’s preference was also Malvasia, but he bought his in Venice and served it at his own table, while cheaper wine for his household came from his estates.^[67] When Ippolito went to Rome to take up his duties as cardinal, he did not have access to his own estates so he bought Greco d’ Somma wine imported from Naples for his own table and purchased a coarser wine for his household. He also acquired wine from Ischia, Salerno, and the Alban hills outside Rome.^[68] Ever the connoisseur in 1518, Isabella tasted a variety of wines from various regions and was especially fond of those from the mountains.^[69] In the same letter, she wrote about sampling wines that her husband Francesco might like and how her farm manager, Zoanne, showed her many that satisfied her. As well, Francesco sent her trebbiano wine, and she in turn sent him various wines while he was in Florence in 1506.^[70] While Malvasia was the favored wine at the courts of Ferrara and Mantua (Este and Gonzaga), they also purchased other varieties, such as Romania, a Greek white wine, Greco Toscano, Greco d’ Somma, trebbiano, vernaccia, and a wine from the Marche for their own tables, but provided cheaper wines for their household.^[71] Barbara of Brandenburg and her husband Ludovico II Gonzaga preferred Albano wine and vin santo.^[72] Other wines that were frequently purchased included Moscatello, Greco d’ Iscia, Greco di S. Gimignano, and Montepulciano. Not everyone purchased their wine; both the Medici and Strozzi families (Alessandra Macinghi Strozzi did not specify the variety her property produced) produced a variety of wines on their estates.^[73] The Medici estates produced red and white wines at Careggi and Poggio a Caiano, but it was at their Fiesole property where the most wine was produced, especially large quantities of vermiglio wine. Anyone who could afford a bit of land grew olive trees and grape vines.

What Artists Ate

We can gain a sense of what the average (or artisan-class) person ate and what foods they preferred by looking at a few artists such as Leonardo da Vinci (1452–1519), who was supposedly a vegetarian, or Michelangelo (1475–1564), who purportedly did not care much about food, or Pontormo (1494–1557), who kept a record of what he ate in his diaries, even when he went out to a tavern with his friend, Bronzino (1503–1572). Another painter, when his artistic career was not going so well, tried his hand at cooking. Mariotto di Bagio Albertinelli owned and ran the Osteria del Pennello in Florence for which he was much praised.^[74] Apparently, Albertinelli was fond of wine, especially trebbiano, whereas Leonardo da Vinci was more interested in the science of making wine and its effects on the body, and this seems to be his attitude about food in general.^[75] Leonardo, writing in one of his notebooks advised: “eat lightly, chew well and whatever you take into you should be well-cooked. Let your wine be mixed with water.”^[76] Although he was frugal, Leonardo preferred tasty meals like this one composed of bread, eggs, eel, and “bericoccoli e pane,” an oval-shaped sweet made with flour, sugar, and honey, also called “cavallucci,” a specialty of Siena. The meal was accompanied by a glass of good wine and cost 6 lire.^[77] Leonardo’s notebooks are filled with comments about the cost and quality of food. He noted, for instance, that at Lake Como, they made a strong wine there and in large quantities, and later, he wrote that a bottle of wine, a pound of veal, and a basket of eggs cost 1 soldo each. Some items in his pantry included buttermilk, eggs, melon, grapes, mulberries, mushrooms, sorghum, flour, herbs, spices, beans, sugar, vinegar, and wine. He also included shopping lists in his notebooks for both court feasts in Milan and his own household meals. Some of his notes suggest that he abstained from meat and was a vegetarian; however, his shopping lists occasionally mention meat, yet the lists were not just for his meals, but for his household as well. Leonardo’s writings on nutrition and health do suggest a vegetarian lifestyle, and it is of interest to note that the one and only cookbook that he owned was Platina’s, perhaps the source for much of his dietary ideas.^[78] In one of his notebooks, Leonardo wrote that suitable food could be prepared using only vegetables, and even “an infinite number of dishes as Platina and other authors for gourmets have written.”^[79]

Ever the inventor of machinery, Leonardo devised a roasting rack for anchovies (1515) that turned automatically for his cook, Maturina (a female cook, no less!), who was honored.^[80] In addition to inventing kitchen equipment, Leonardo also had ideas about efficient kitchen design: writing in the Codex Atlanticus,^[81] he suggested that

While Michelangelo’s biographer, Ascanio Condivi, tells us that the artist ate sparingly more out of necessity than for pleasure—taking a little bread and wine—Michelangelo’s letters tell us otherwise.^[82] Most of what we know about Michelangelo’s attitude toward food comes from the five volumes of correspondence and archival documents connected to his estates collected together in the archive at Casa Buonarroti in Florence. While he was in Rome, Michelangelo wrote frequently in the 1550s to his nephew, Lionardo di Buonarroti, requesting food and wine and complaining about how expensive everything was in Rome; yet, he berated Lionardo for sending him a batch of unsatisfactory trebbiano wine, of which he was particularly fond.^[83] Lionardo sent Michelangelo produce and other items from the artist’s Tuscan estates: cheese (caci marzolini), apples and pears, white and red chickpeas, green beans and peas, prosciutto, sausages, olive oil, and trebbiano wine. Still he complained about the quality, so Michelangelo was a picky eater but clearly someone who enjoyed good food and did not eat just out of necessity. Michelangelo could also harvest fruit from his own garden at his home in Rome like figs, Muscat grapes, peaches, and pomegranates, and he also had chickens for a ready supply of eggs. He received gifts of food (1557–1558) from Cornelia, the widow of his longtime housekeeper and assistant, Francesco Amatori (d. 1556) such as prosciutto, cheeses, and sausages.

But perhaps most fascinating of all is the list of three menus for Lenten meals that he wrote on the back of a letter that had been sent to him by Bernardo Nicolini and dated March 18, 1518 (see figure 4.1), while he was in Pietrasanta quarrying marble. (Incidentally, he made a kitchen mortar out of marble, too.)^[84] It is a shopping list with sketches for his cook or servant who probably couldn’t read; it shows Michelangelo’s pleasure in simple, good food. For the first menu for two people, Michelangelo requested two bread rolls, a jug of wine, a herring, and tortellini; for the second (for four people), asked for a salad, four bread rolls, a jug of full-bodied wine, a quarter of dry wine, a plate of spinach, four anchovies, and tortelli likely stuffed with cheese and herbs—but why two wines? For the third meal for six people, Michelangelo wanted six bread rolls, two bowls of fennel soup or stewed fennel, a herring, and a jug of full-bodied wine—“bochal di Tondo” in the last line refers to wine from the vineyards of Colle Tondo near Serraverzza, not far from Pietrasanta. Along with the list, Michelangelo included sketches of each item for clarification: the salad is in a wide, shallow dish with a tiny plinth, the spinach is piled in a small bowl, the stewed fennel is in round bottom bowls, and the four anchovies are draped elegantly over the curved molding of their basin; the wine is in the appropriate jug. Only the herrings and bread rolls seem to float in midair. So were the dishes premade and purchased at a tavern or osteria by his servant and the bread from a bakery? And what about the anchovies and herring, presumably bought at the market, how were they to be prepared? We have an idea, then, of what the great artist had for lunch and that he certainly ate more than a little bread and wine while working—and he didn’t eat alone either.

Again, like Michelangelo, Pontormo’s biographer, this time Giorgio Vasari (1511–1574), suggested that the artist had little interest in food, stating that the painter “lived almost by himself, without desiring that anyone should cook for him.”^[85] Yet his diaries (1554–1555) from the last years of his life when he was elderly and frail, like Michelangelo’s letters, suggest something quite different. Eating at home in Florence in the evening for supper (1554), Pontormo ate a lettuce salad and an egg and fish frittata; on a Tuesday evening, his meal consisted of half a head of a kid and soup, and on Wednesday evening, he had the other half, fried and a “pretty big helping of zibibbo grapes and five quattini of bread and capers in salad.”^[86] He drank wine and ate about ten ounces of bread at every meal; rosemary bread was a favorite. The food he consumed with his bread was locally produced; he obtained his produce from the vegetable garden, bought olive oil by the barrel, bottled his own wine, and kept his market purchase to a minimum. He prepared his food himself, most often bread, eggs, and salad (often made of goat’s beard), but also dishes that required time, like a meat pie or a head of cabbage or pea soup, all cooked with his own hands. Pontormo preferred simple, but flavorful dishes such as egg and artichoke frittata; egg and asparagus frittata; caviar; fried lamb’s livers; “bolitto” (boiled meats) with butter; roasted meats; lamb heart; boiled squash; fava beans; fruit like cooked apples, plums, figs, and grapes; and walnuts. He began his modest meals with a salad, followed by meat or eggs and then some fruit. Often his Sunday lunches were followed by a light supper.

Like Michelangelo, Pontormo could be critical. He praised the crepes his former pupil and now close, caring friend, the painter Bronzino, made for him, while the cow his servant, Basiano, bought for him was not even fit for a dog. If he went out to eat at the tavern, he ate the same things he ate at home and when dining with friends; he was generous with meat, especially on religious holidays, often paying for the mutton or fish. On one occasion when he had lunch out with Bronzino, Pontormo made special mention of a large fish they were served with a plate of small fried fish, followed by ricotta crepes that “were marvelous to eat.” At the same tavern again with Bronzino, he noted the menu: a salad, cheese (cacio), a tort (which cost 2 soldi), an egg frittata, boiled lamb kidneys, boiled lamb, and radicchio. After meals like this one, Pontormo would write that he did not eat dinner as he had already eaten too much.^[87] Pontormo was always conscious of his finances writing, “On Saturday afternoon, we went to the tavern, Attaviano and Bronzino and I. We had fish and eggs and aged wine and paid seventeen coins each.”^[88] On another occasion, this time a Saturday in mid-May, he ate with his friend, Piero (di Cosimo?), a meal of fish from the Arno, lots of ricotta, eggs, and artichokes. Pontormo ate a great deal of eggs and fresh vegetables, as well as lamb, pork or beef, stewed or roasted, but not sweet dishes. On only two occasions did he sweeten his frittata with sugar. Only twice did he mention pasta, vermicelli served to him by Bronzino.

Bronzino was not just a painter who worked for the Medici family, but also a poet of some renown in his own day; he participated in Florentine literary academies and was friends with noted poets such as Francesco Berni, the principal figure of the burlesque poetic tradition in Italy, and Benedetto Varchi.^[89] Three poems are of interest here: “Della padella del Bronzino, pittore” (“The Frying Pan of Bronzino, the Painter”), “Della cipolla del Bronzino, pittore” (“The Onion of Bronzino, the Painter”), and “Il raviggiuolo” (“The Raviolo”).^[90] Bronzino’s poems recall other burlesque poems on food, such as Berni’s tributes to artichokes and peaches and Varchi’s poems on fennel and ricotta.^[91] These poems suggest that Bronzino was a gourmet and must have been a fairly good cook. Interspersed within the 466 lines of his poem “Della padella,” Bronzino praises what can be cooked in a frying pan (spinach, crepes, eel, chestnuts, veal, pork, and hare, which could be fried, boiled, or roasted), and how to do it, too, adding a little oil or vinegar; roasting chestnuts in the pan required a cover and then was placed over the fire. As well, he fancifully celebrates the frying pan’s admirable features:

Cooking techniques are especially evident in “Della cipolla”; onions were added to soups and roasts, any meat, domestic or wild, from land or air. Interspersed within the 235 lines of the same poem, Bronzino gives us a recipe for what Maria Luisa Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa called panzanella, or bread salad, which could actually be made today; Bronzino’s salad calls for chopped onions, purslane, cucumber, basil, arugula, and other additions as you like.^[93] Moreover, the three poems give us a sense of what he liked to eat: pasticci, torte, ravioli stuffed with cheese or with meats, capons, soups, and roasts. Bronzino shows us a real appreciation of food, which we also see in Pontormo’s writings, and he tells us how it should be cooked. Leonardo, Michelangelo, Pontormo, and Bronzino ate and preferred much the same foods as the elite, but simpler meals with one or two dishes, maybe three, if they went out to the tavern to eat, or perhaps more dishes depending on the occasion. Like the artisan class we discussed in chapter 3, artists frequently ate meals in taverns or osterie, but they also cooked at home.

Culinary Writers on Food Preferences

The discussion of food and eating habits is not limited to letters and culinary works like those of Scappi, Messibugo, or Romoli. Agostino Gallo in his Le dieci giornate della vera agricotura e piaceri della villa (day 8), for example, discussed at length the abundance of veal, beef, chicken, doves, ducks, geese, and vegetables and fruits such as citrons, lemons, oranges, asparagus, and artichokes; and how he ate less expensive things like ricotta, farmer’s cheese, and creams.^[94] Gallo had a great admiration for the food produced on the farm—the dairy products, the various fowl and meats, and the fruits. We know from other sources that Cardinal Ippolito d’Este was especially fond of pheasants, partridges, and small game birds.^[95] And of course, Bartolomeo Scappi knew the tastes of his patron, Pope Pius V, who was renowned for his love of puddings and pies as well as for his appreciation of frog’s legs fried in garlic and parsley.^[96] At Urbino, Duke Federico da Montefeltro’s staff catered to his personal food preferences as well as serving an abundant amount of bread, wine, and water.^[97] Yet, a careful reading of writers such as Domenico Romoli gives us another perspective on what people actually ate. His unique offering of “everyday” menus for an entire year record what people in an affluent household actually ate around 1546, and he also sought to create a faithful day-by-day record of the household’s activities through food. Seasonality pervaded the year of menus from squash and pears in June to fresh figs and quince in August to the woodcock, wild boar, and other game in the fall. It is evident that he had access to the finest markets as his dishes incorporate pears from France and Sardinia and olives from Spain. His household was served international dishes from crayfish “alla Tedesca” to chicken “alla Catalana” to ravioli “alla Lombarda”; other dishes were “alla Francese” or “alla Fiorentina” with treats coming from all over Italy: biscotti from Pisa or “little morsels” from Naples. Romoli included notes on how to choose and store meats, fish, produce, and poultry. He discussed spices and condiments, with a selection far smaller than in the Middle Ages: pepper, ginger, clove, cassia, cinnamon, saffron, nutmeg, and coriander. We see, too, that Romoli moved away from the complex and heavy dishes of earlier centuries and that were still the norm in northern Europe and his specific use of sugar for sweet dishes like his melon tart.^[98] Like Romoli, Bartolomeo Scappi’s recipes draw ingredients from all over Italy, but with a much broader scope; he incorporated specialties from Milan, Genoa, Lucca, Lombardy, the Piedmonte, Rome, Naples, Venice, and Sicily and added regional tags to products such as rice, olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and fruits. As well, his recipes embrace foreign influence with olives and ham from Spain or dishes from Hungary and France.^[99]

Meal Planning and Menus

Imagine, then, the main kitchen in an upscale Renaissance home, a dinner for ten special guests or a banquet for three hundred is being planned and the steward must coordinate it all, from the cold dishes served from the credenza, to the hot dishes that must be transported still warm to the waiting diners. Wine must be brought from the cellar, the table set, and the food prepared. What about an intimate dinner for two in a room off the bedroom or the meal prepared for the “famiglia” of the household—which was often made up of the leftovers from the upstairs meal—what went into the preparation of each of these meals? The range of meals a cook had to prepare was varied, depending on the occasion. In this section, we will consider how the meal was put together, what planning was needed, how the cook came up with various menus, and how he made it all come together, under the supervision of the steward, of course. Seasonality of ingredients and the calendar (fast days or feast days) had an impact on the menu as did the requests and requirements of the cook’s boss. Account books provide us with lists of the foods that were purchased, along with the quantity and costs—whether it was for an elaborate banquet or the daily meal. We learn what was most frequently eaten or what was meant to impress a special guest. For example, the “shopping” lists for the banquet held in honor of Pope Sixtus V at Castel Gandolfo in 1589 included snow for the white wine, rice from Salerno, cheese from Sicily, water buffalo tongues, saffron and spices from Venice, sugar from Palermo, and olives from Spain, as well as a wide range of fish and fowl, among other things.^[100]

Sumptuary laws, at least in Venice, impacted the cook’s meal planning. Marin Sanudo wrote that for weddings there could be two large meals, not to exceed fifty guests for one and no more than eighty for the other, including men and women and close relatives.^[101] At these meals, it was prohibited to serve partridge, pheasants, peacocks, francolins (mountain birds similar to partridges), baby doves, and no more than three non-gilded dishes may be served. The food could only be served by the credenza steward. Also prohibited were confections of large pine-nut cakes; pistachios; round, filled pastries; sweetmeats; confections and sweet gums; formless confections; marzipan fruitcakes; sugared fruit; and every other type of large confection that one could make or imagine. Heavy fines were enforced at every level from the hosts to the steward to the cook to anyone involved in serving the meal. So the cook and steward had to be careful in planning a wedding banquet menu and selecting recipes.

In addition to printed recipes found in culinary works like those of Messisbugo, Romoli, or Scappi; or from unpublished manuscripts that circulated between courts, cooks prepared dishes from handwritten recipes often given to them by their boss as we saw earlier. Handwritten recipes were included in letters, like the one for cooking carp sent to the duke of Ferrara in 1521^[102]; as well, there were requests for recipes for a particular dish or recipes were shared between family members or between friends. Isabella d’Este, for example, wrote to her friend Alda Boiarda asking for a recipe for cooking porcini mushrooms that she could not remember, and Alda sent it right away.^[103] And we saw earlier instances of Isabella sending recipes to her brother, Alfonso. But cooks also had their own repertoire of recipes either handwritten or in memory—what they learned as an under-cook. It is of interest to note here, too, that numerous letters written by Isabella d’Este show that she was particularly concerned about food for Lent and acquiring specific items and this certainly impacted the cook. We’ve already seen how involved Isabella was in her requests for foods, recipes, and even finding a cook. Imagine if you were a cook at Isabella’s court—nearly every day, it seems, she would request a new dish, inquire about a particular fish or whatever happened to be on her mind that day—and she even wrote to Benedetto Brugia requesting “salame per la quadragessima [Lent].”^[104] Clearly, Isabella was a demanding patron, to say the least, and it is likely that she wasn’t alone—other elite certainly shared their needs with their cook; she just happened to be a prolific writer whose letters have been well preserved.

Planning a Few Meals for the Pope

Let’s turn now and consider the extensive work that went into planning an actual meal or several meals for an eminent guest. How would you prepare for a two- or three-day visit from the pope and his entourage? When Bernardino Savelli (d. 1590) and his wife, Lucrezia Anguillara (d. 1617), hosted a banquet for Pope Sixtus V (reigned 1585–1590) in 1589, the duke and duchess of Castel Gandolfo^[105] had extensive planning to do. There must have been a certain frenzy as preparations were underway perhaps weeks in advance of his arrival. The preparations being made were not just for the pope, his entourage, and guests, but for everyone involved in the festivities, from the lowliest stable boy to the pope himself—about three hundred people in all. Provisions for the meals were only part of the preparations. Beds had to be found, places for everyone to eat had to be set up, horses and mules had to be stabled and fed, and the carriages had to be stowed somewhere safe.

The existing documents not only outline the menu for one evening, but also tell us how the staff planned that menu with elaborate lists of items to be purchased, rented, or borrowed.^[106] It has every part, from kitchen setup and staffing, to dining at all levels, even arrangements for places for everyone to sleep—in other words, the total orchestration of the event. We know the number of kitchens (four), how the service rooms were set up to support the kitchens, and the table arrangements. The pope and his cardinals had separate kitchens (cucine segrete) for the preparation of their meals, separate dining areas, and rooms just off these for final preparations just before the meal was served. And each kitchen, dining area, and service room became less elaborate as social status descended. While most contemporary descriptions of banquets focus on the main event for the elite, this set of documents tells us about almost everyone—where they ate and how they were served; even the communal kitchen and table had a steward (scalco), a cook, and a couple of servers. We are given, then, a sense of what happened behind the scenes. Imagine the stewards (scalchi), cooks, and servers scurrying around to make it all happen—and eventually, even they had a place to eat and sleep.

For the visit of Pope Sixtus V, it wasn’t just the castello that was transformed but nearly the entire town. More than just a few rooms had to be prepared; the event involved the entire structure and parts of the surrounding area. Thirty families provided places for individuals to sleep, sometimes as many as three or four to a household. Preparing the various rooms for the visit meant transforming the castello from the grand sala to the staff dining room (tinello); everyone had to have a place to eat, and these spaces were located throughout the castello and the surrounding area. Hosting an elaborate banquet meant transforming the domestic interior and changing both the function and décor of various spaces, for example, altering the sala, the usual site for a grand meal, by hanging tapestries to enliven the walls. Rooms adjacent were outfitted for dinner service. The silver plate was polished and placed for display on the credenza; tables and chairs were brought in and covered with elaborate white tablecloths in several layers. It wasn’t simply about the food and its preparation—it was also about presenting an impressive atmosphere.

The organization of the staff went from the housemaster (who oversaw the many activities taking place in the palace including directing all the people who prepared food and drink for the duke) and steward (scalco) down to the lowest helper and stable boy. While we do know how each of the four kitchens was staffed and equipped, we know less about the actual layouts and locations of the kitchens. The pope’s kitchen and that of the cardinals were the only ones to have an under-steward (sotto scalco) and a master pastry cook, who were hired specifically for this event as were four master cooks. There were four stewards (scalchi) each with two helpers, four credenzieri with their helpers, four wine stewards (bottiglieri) with their helpers, and men hired specifically to move all the tables and chairs for the pope and the cardinals and benches for everyone else into the various eating spaces. Sixtus V also brought some of his own staff, including his own credenziero, who would have brought the pope’s personal dishes, serving plates, glasses, cutlery, tablecloths, and napkins just as Antonio Archelli, credenziero to Virginio Orsini, did in 1593.^[107] Not only would he have had everything he needed to set up the pope’s table for dinner service, but also all that was needed to prepare the cold dishes coming from the credenza. The pope also brought his own pastry cook to make all his favorites, and it’s likely Sixtus brought along his own cook. As well, Bernardino brought staff from his estate at Albano, including his housemaster, horsemen, and various workers, and he enlisted the services of those in Castel Gandolfo to make sure the events were a success.

The production and function of each kitchen varied—not all of them had the same staff members or produced the same foods. The cardinal’s kitchen (and presumably that of the pope) had a steward and an under-steward (sotto scalco), two cooks, and a pastry cook with a number of helpers. Another kitchen, presumably for the prelates, monsignori, and other guests, was staffed similarly, though without an under-steward or pastry cook, both missing as well from the staff kitchen, which suggests that these tables were served whatever dishes that were left over. Bernardino purchased or built new equipment, such as a new oven (forno) specifically for making pastries, and they renovated the oven in the pope’s kitchen.

A special room was set up for making all the pastries and pastry shells for filling with fish, fruit, or fowl (“tutti la pasticiaria e lavari di paste”), and servants were hired to assist the wine stewards in filling flasks with various types of wines in rooms set aside for wine preparation adjoining each eating area. In addition to all the items necessary for wine service—glasses, flasks, and carafes—there was snow (neve) to chill the white wine and flasks of water to dilute the red wine. Tables were set up on the loggia for various items, including the bread, and a door was constructed to connect the loggia to the kitchen. The cantina, where the wine was stored, and rooms for meats and other foodstuffs were located below ground, some distance from the kitchens.

Clearly, some of the lists were for planning purposes; they had to decide who to hire and for what. These lists were later modified so that we know that the first table for the cardinals had one steward (scalco) and two carvers (trincianti) with eight assistants, a credenziero, and a wine steward (bottigliero); presumably, the pope’s table was staffed similarly. The staff for the prelates’ table included a steward with four helpers, a credenziero, and a wine steward (bottigliero). The tables for the priests, the signori, the cardinals’ gentlemen (gentilhuomini di cardinale), and other officials and guests were staffed as per the prelates’ table, while the tables for the horsemen, the footmen, the coachmen (carrozieri), and other staff had only one server (uomo) for each table and two credenzieri practichi. But these tables were not all located in the same room; another document outlines the locations throughout the castello that were set up for dining, for example, the sala grande, the saletta, under the loggia, and in the courtyard.

The various lists tell us of foodstuffs—what foods and supplies were needed and what was obtained—and they show us the thinking and planning involved in such an undertaking. In terms of the meals and dinner service, we know from these same documents, like the one for the wine steward, exactly what each person needed. For the credenzieri, not only supplies for dinner service, basins and napkins for washing hands, forks, spoons, knives, salt cellars, several sizes plates of maiolica or faenza, two hundred large serving platters, four hundred smaller ones, three hundred round ones, and tablecloths, but also tables specific for the cold service from the credenze—one for cheeses, cured meats (salami, lardo, and salted buffalo tongue), nuts, and fruits. Another table held assorted fowl (pigeons, quail, capons, guinea fowl, and chickens). The credenzieri’s list, then, suggests that service from the credenze also meant setting up the tables for dining and replacing items on the tables as service progressed. It is clear from the documents that there were two different types of credenze—one for the grand display of silver plate meant to impress diners and the other for the cold food service that began the meal—an elaborate display of dishes meant to whet the appetite and appeal to the eye. The credenze were composed of several tables, one of which held everything for dinner service and the others, the food.

The master pastry cooks’ list of desserts included ciambelli (ring-shaped buns), biscotti, and latte mele. Others are simply lists of foods by type: fruits, which included vegetables and nuts, like pears of various kinds, figs, large and small fennel, melons, apples, quince, honey, celery, chicory, fresh peas, eggplant, chestnuts, pine nuts, artichokes of all sizes, and truffles. Meats from the butcher included pork, veal, buffalo tongue, and other meats, and there was a list for a wide range of fish and another for fowl. Spices included sugar from Palermo, fine white sugar, saffron, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, black salt, white salt, rice from Salerno, olives from Spain, sun-dried prunes, capers, and spices from Venice. A few of the lists include the weight or quantity of the named items. The pope himself requested specific foods, including white salt, bread, artichokes, fennel, quince, and large, fat guinea fowl, as well as large, fat capons.

A Meal Fit for a King

And if Sixtus’s banquet and the preparation seemed extravagant, let’s consider the one held in honor of Henry III, duke of Anjou, king of France and Poland, in 1574 hosted by Federico II Gonzaga, marchese of Mantua at the Palazzo del Te.^[108] The king was in Venice prior to coming to Mantua. Gugliemo Gonzaga paid homage to him there and likely accompanied him to Mantua. Like Pope Sixtus V, the king was given a suite of rooms, seven in all; one of which was the sala grande, decorated with Flemish tapestries, and presumably, some informal meals took place here. He slept in the Sala di Troia, which was outfitted with a bed of gold and silver. Final preparations for the king’s three-day visit (August 2–4, 1574) began two weeks before his arrival and became intense closer to his arrival—after all, they had to prepare meals for fourteen hundred, and, as with Sixtus V, everyone had to have a place to sleep, the animals had to be stabled and cared for, and the carriages had to be stowed.

The king and his four princes were accompanied by thirty gentlemen of quality, seventy-five prelates, and three hundred servants. Those in attendance, like the duke of Savoy or the duke of Ferrara, also brought along their own entourage—two hundred and five hundred, respectively. Federico Gonzaga’s own staff is named in a list; Master Danese, for example, served as his credenziero with the help of Rondanino and a servant, Master Benedetto Andreasi, wine steward, Master Marco Antonio Ruffalda, head cook (another cook is also named), and Master Mattheo Bresciano and Master Bartholomeo were both “maestro de sala,” and he borrowed cooks from Theodoro San Giorgio and Federico Maffei along with their helpers.^[109] As well, Federico hired six credenzieri and a wine steward to serve the king and seven cooks and three servants to help them. “Il Signore Rangone,” as mentioned in chapter 3, served as the steward for the king’s table. Imagine the amount of staff that would be necessary not just to cook the meals, but for every aspect of the orchestration of this event.

The lists of provisions are lengthy and spell out specifically where the various foodstuffs were purchased or acquired. There was game, fowl, veal, pork, salami, and fish for lean days. The fruit was to be ordered from the fruit vendor, white confetti (sweets) came from Venice and conditi (pickled condiments) from Genoa. Wine for the king and his princes came from Casale; everyone else received “vini del paese” (country wine), but not the servants, who were not given wine. A final list (without quantities) from July 25 includes wood for the fire for cooking, salt, flour, vinegar, bread (so this was not baked at Palazzo del Te), biscotti, diverse wines (Greco, Malvasia, Vernacia), veal, lamb, capons, beef, pork, a variety of poultry, hare, large and small boar, rabbits, fat quail, beef tongue, salted beef, salami, prosciutto, lardo, several kinds of cheese, fish from Lake Garda, sturgeon, shrimp, porchetta, anchovies, peas, caviar, zucchini, and a variety of fruit. Beyond the lists and the brief descriptions of the setting, there are no specific details about the dishes served nor are there any menus.

The king, Federico Gonzaga (who held the bowl with water for the king to wash his hands), the four princes, and the most important guests ate in the Sala di Psiche (figures 4.2 and 4.3), painted by Giulio Romano, the architect who designed and built the Palazzo del Te (whom we met in chapter 3); on the walls of this room, gods, goddesses, nymphs, putti, and satyrs frolic and feast, while above the story of Cupid and Psyche unfolds in a dizzying circular progression of frescoes, lunettes, and octagons. What a setting for a king! The tables were outfitted with silver and with chairs and decorated with a variety of confetti and seasonal fruit. Henry’s table was a profusion of the whitest linen and plates and dishes of gold, silver, and maiolica, with carvers and servers in constant attendance. The meal began with a collation of fruit and “confetti bellissimi.” Other courtiers and gentlemen ate in the Sala delli Cavalli, which depicted portraits of Federico’s favorite horses; others ate in the garden loggia, and the servants ate in the staff dining room. The king’s meals were prepared in a separate kitchen—the Castello kitchen—whereas the food for the others came from the Corte Vecchia kitchen. Here, then, unlike at Castel Gandolfo, there were only two kitchens—and the food prepared in them was for fourteen hundred people! How did they manage that? Perhaps, some of the food was prepared elsewhere. Imagine, at least two meals a day for three days for fourteen hundred people! This set of documents are formal, official records, not random lists as we saw with the Sixtus V documents; they do not show the same sort of thought process, in other words, the behind-the-scenes aspect.

In Search of a Menu

How did the cooks at Castel Gandolfo or at the Palazzo del Te come up with their menus? What about menus for daily meals? In general, it was the steward who was responsible for planning the menu, as both Rossetti and Romoli suggest, and it was the cook and his staff who prepared the dishes. On planning a menu, Rossetti said,

The steward was the inventor; the cook was the craftsman who made the ideas of the steward a reality. But there were exceptions; certainly Maestro Martino (see figure 1.1) and Bartolomeo Scappi (see figure 1.3) were cooks who both invented and created the resulting dishes. And certainly the boss, someone as strong willed as Isabella d’Este, would have some say in the dishes to be served and the plan for the menu. Typically, the menu was divided into cold dishes served from the credenza and hot ones coming from the kitchen; each course was made up of several dishes. The meal often began with a collation eaten while standing, as we saw earlier in this chapter, and ended with a fruit course.

Cristoforo da Messisbugo, Domenico Romoli, Giovanni Battista Rossetti, Bartolomeo Scappi, and Vincenzo Cervio published in their culinary treatises a wide range of menus.^[111] Some were for actual meals like those of Messisbugo and others were suggestions for meals ranging from an ordinary meal to an elegant banquet as we have seen with Romoli. Let’s take a look at a meal (pranzo) prepared by Scappi that took place in Trastevere (Rome) in April 1536 during Lent.^[112] The meal was hosted by Cardinal Lorenzo Campeggio in honor of Emperor Charles V and his entry into Rome. Two hundred dishes were ceremoniously presented to the guests with musical entertainment. Five courses came from the credenza interspersed with seven courses from the kitchen. The first course from the credenza included thirty-six dishes of biscuits, marzipan, little tarts with pureed chickpeas, and dried fruits. The first course from the kitchen was made up of fourteen fish dishes: lamprey baked with a pie, cold roast carp dressed with sugar and rose water, marinated trout served with its marinade and sugar, and a variety of other dishes. The second service from the kitchen included fish soups, stews, pies, baked trout with spices, and candied violets in deep-fried pastry cases filled with aromatic rice. The third course from the kitchen was lighter and was followed by the second credenza course: forty-five different dishes of fruit, nuts, preserves, pastries, and some raw fennel to clear the palate.

At this point, the tables were cleared and reset, bowls of scented water brought to wash hands, and fresh white napkins unfurled for the next array of dishes. And it all began again with the first course coming from the credenza with several kinds of salads, more carp, and anchovies mixed with olive oil and vinegar and topped with oregano. The first kitchen course included grilled tuna, mullet, sole, and a few pies and tarts, among other things. This second round of courses was lighter than the first. Stewed carp with raisins and fresh herbs, calamari stuffed in the Venetian manner, a resplendent fish jelly of vibrant colors, and a frittata made with eggs and sturgeon were among the dishes served from the second kitchen service. Baked and roasted fish, hake in a mustard sauce, sea bass in a white sauce decorated with pomegranate seeds, and a clever fake ham made of salmon and gelatin were among the dishes brought to the guests from the third kitchen service. The last kitchen service included a variety of fried fish, little plum tarts, and twelve dishes of broccoli served hot with olive oil, bitter orange, and pepper. Once again the tables were cleared, and bowls of rose water and fresh napkins elaborately folded were presented. Yet another credenza service, but this time the emphasis was on dishes made with fruit (apples, pears, prunes), vegetables (artichokes, cardoons, truffles), and less fish, as well as a pasticcio filled with live birds (recalling Maestro Martino, see chapter 2). And again the tables were cleared and new napkins with gold and silver forks put in place; another credenza service followed with primarily fruits and vegetables—twenty-seven dishes in all. The meal ended with a surprise opening the final course: new napkins, when unfolded, released flocks of little song birds to delight the guests who were served a variety of nuts, some fruit, and fennel. Finally, the tablecloths were removed and water presented to wash hands; each guest was given perfumed toothpicks and a bunch of flowers with gold and silver stems. This was an enormous meal and a memorable tour de force for Scappi, and in his preamble to Book IV, he stated that it was a meal “that he made.”^[113]

So for an emperor in Rome an elaborate menu, but for cardinals attending to a pope, a much simpler meal was planned. Yet, Scappi’s menu for the emperor gives us an idea of how complex such a service was, and we can assume that the orchestration of the five-course menu for the cardinals was similar. We’ve already discussed the event for Pope Sixtus V at Castel Gandolfo in some detail, but the only surviving menu was for a meal served to the cardinals who accompanied him. This five-course menu, with one credenza service, three hot courses from the kitchen, and the final fruit course, does not seem grand enough for the main event, but may reflect Sixtus’s preferences for simply prepared, genuine meals. Another papal dinner hosted by Pope Clement VIII in 1593, for example, had eight courses with far more dishes in each course. Clement’s meal began with an elaborate credenza course followed by three hot courses from the kitchen, a meat course, a fish course, and ended with a fruit course.^[114] At Castel Gandolfo, the cardinals’ meal began with the first course from the credenza—a cold service of ten different dishes, featuring a large salad of cooked vegetables, buffalo tongue cooked in wine, a crostata made of a variety of pears (served cold with dried prunes), an egg pastry that was stuffed, fried cows’ udders served with cinnamon and a fine sauce, a plate of olives and grapes with pieces of celery, and a pasticcio filled with game.

The second course of mostly fowl—hot from the kitchen—consisted of six dishes: small birds (beccafichi, fig pickers) in a crostata over a pasticcio filled with apples and grated salame; roasted, fat peacocks served over “salsa reale”; boiled capons with cinnamon and other spices, quail stuffed with sausages, roasted pigeons cut in half and stuffed with almonds; and a large, roasted hare covered with juniper. The third course, also hot from the kitchen, consisted of seven dishes and was a mix of poultry, meats, and fish: a pasticcio al Inglese, veal bones cooked with lemon, roasted partridges with olives, and plates of “bianco mangare” (blancmanger, white food), a sweet chicken pudding with milk. The final hot course was lighter with only six dishes: meats (carne) roasted and cut into pieces, shrimp cooked in vinegar and pepper, two pasticci filled with gray mullet, sole and small fried fish, and frittelle ala Venetiana. The meal ended with a dessert course consisting of different fruit dishes: pears of all sorts, truffles, chestnuts, a pasticcio of pears, large quince cooked in sugar, quince from Portugal, ciambellette (small, ring-shaped buns), sweets, and pastries of every sort.

Of course, not every meal was such an extravaganza. Everyday meals for the elite were often composed of only two hot courses from the kitchen, no cold service from the credenza, but sometimes with a fruit course at the end. Yet, these menus could serve as a basis for the cook to build a more complex one. Scappi’s menu for the emperor, for example, repeated several dishes over several different courses. It might be worthwhile to turn our attention, now, to the cost of a meal like those we have discussed here.

The Cost of a Meal

The cost of a meal was not just the food, but everything involved with making it happen, including the salaries of the household staff and hiring and paying for more cooks, stewards, servers, and helpers, as we saw in the case of the banquets for both Pope Sixtus V and King Henry III. Let’s begin with the annual salaries of the kitchen staff in Mantua from 1543.^[115] The wine steward was paid 18 ducats, the steward 18 ducats, the head cook 24 ducats, his helper 6 ducats, and the credenziero 24 ducats. In comparison, Ippolito II d’Este (Ferrara, 1556) paid his steward 36 scudi, his head cook 24 scudi, his wine steward 48 lire, and his credenziero 36 scudi.^[116] Sixteenth-century Italy was fragmented into different states, and each city had its own currency. There were also internationally recognized gold coins: the Venetian ducat, the Florentine florin, and the gold scudo.^[117] Wealth was assessed in gold, the currency of international trade, while silver coinage was used for everyday transactions like buying food or paying wages. One scudo bought twenty-eight chickens or fifty kilos of flour or paid one week’s salary for a master builder. This is meant only as a sampling of the salaries paid out; the Este records list several cooks, for example, of varying levels and their various salaries. And Isabella d’Este certainly had an eye on what a meal would cost. Writing to her husband about her sojourn in Naples, she told him about a banquet hosted by Fabrizio Colonna on November 12, 1514, said very little about the meal itself, but estimated the cost to be about 200 ducats.^[118] Later, in the same letter, she mentioned a dinner she attended at the marchese di Bitont’s house at 9 p.m. She estimated the cost of this sumptuous meal of a great number of men and women to be between 1,400 and 1,500 ducats.

One of the most fascinating sets of documents in terms of expenditures for hosting a dignitary are those for the celebrations and banquets held in honor of the arrival in Venice of Renée of France, the wife of Ercole II d’Este, duke of Ferrara, and daughter of Louis II, king of France, in May 1534.^[119] Renée’s visit coincided with the “Festa della Sensa” (May 14) in which the doge in his bucintoro (Venetian state barge) renews his marriage/vows to the sea. It was (and still is) a grand event beginning with an elaborate procession around the Piazza San Marco before boarding the bucintoro. Curiously, the documents do not outline the actual meals that were prepared and served to Renée. Rather, they are official lists of expenses for two meals in Chioggia and a collation on the Grand Canal; all was paid for by the Venetian state. The records list the costs not only of various foodstuffs, but also the costs associated with the gondolier, gondolas, boats, barges, tables, musical entertainment, and every necessity, including housing the duchess in a palace on the Grand Canal. Ettore Loredan, official of the Rason Vecchia, hosted a supper (“cena”) on the day of her arrival and a dinner (“disnar”) the next day before leaving for Venice. Meat (carne di vitello, de manzo, de castrato) alone cost 211 lire, while the wine cost 225 lire. Fresh eggs for the morning were 1 lira, yet bread was 246 lire. The total cost of meals, which included the wood (32 lire) for the fires for cooking, was 1,648 lire, whereas the staffing, boats, and the like cost 290 lire for a grand total of 1,939 lire for two meals, transportation, salaries, and incidentals. The six kitchen servants received a salary of 8 lire, the steward received 27 lire, and the three master cooks received a combined 43 lire.

By far the more expensive event was the May 17 collation held on a bucintoro in the Grand Canal: the cost of making the eighty-three “spongate” was 1,940 lire, including a table for presentation; in this case, the pastry (and sometimes marzipan), filled with a mixture of almonds, pistachios, pine nuts, brandy, white wine, and spices, was formed or molded into statues celebrating the Serenissima and covered with sugar and gold. They were made at the bakery della Pigna (“bottega all’ insegna della Pigna” in San Polo) and were presented to the duchess on a specially made table (4 lire). Traditionally a specialty of the Emilia Romagna and, in particular, the town of Brescello, during the fifteenth and sixteenth century, this pastry was associated with the Sforza and Estensi families—thus, the Venetians were paying homage to Renée’s husband. Other costs for the collation included the choreography of the entire event, the decorations of the bucintoro, transportation, those who handled the boats, musicians, stewards, cooks, servants, and lodging—1,867 lire—for a grand total of 3,807 lire for the collation alone.

Not all banquets were so elaborate or as costly. The expenses for the Medici-Rucellai wedding in 1466 for five hundred guests, discussed in chapter 2, was only 6,638 lire, but much of the food and wine was given or donated for the event.^[120] For example, the commune of Monte Chatini di Valdinievole donated two “vitelle” (veal), while Michele di Bernardo Fei from Volterra gave two “vitelle,” a capon, and a “mozze bufoline”; nearly everyone (thirty-seven donators in all) gave at least one “vitella,” so lots of veal was served at this meal! Many gave a number of capons, or fish from the Arno and the sea, while Francesco di Marco Biagio Niccholini from Pisa gave eighty live quail. Thirty-eight flasks of vermiglio wine and forty of trebbiano, as well as olive oil were also donated; the list goes on, including cheeses, fruits, and vegetables. Donations of food, then, helped to keep the cost of an elaborate banquet down and had political implications as well. Both the Medici and Rucellai were important Florentine families and giving gifts of food was one way to stay in their good graces. We see something similar with the banquet held for Pope Sixtus V that we have been discussing throughout this chapter—here, too, many individuals in support of the Savelli family and, certainly, the pope gave a variety of foods for the event. This seems to be a fairly common practice for people of all levels, and even cities or communes, to contribute food or wine to important events involving influential people, especially for weddings, which were highly political in any case, often merging two prominent families. The list of contributors to the 1463 wedding between Federico I Gonzaga and Margarita Wittelsbach of Bavaria, for instance, is massive: the majority (both people and cities) gave veal and lots of it; most cities sent at least ten, but Sabionetta, Sermide, and Suzzara all sent fifty, whereas Viadana sent one hundred. Obviously, veal was highly prized at the Gonzaga wedding, followed by pairs of chickens (as many as three hundred pairs from one donor), capons, pigeons, eggs (as many as two thousand from several cities), cheeses of various sorts, goat, lamb, and meat; no fish and very little wine was donated.^[121] Quite a different situation occurred in Rimini at the June 24, 1475, wedding between Roberto Malatesta, natural son of Sigismondo Malatesta, signore of Rimini, and Isabella da Montefeltro, daughter of Federico da Montefeltro, duke of Urbino.^[122] Rather than donating food, staff and services were donated: twenty-three cooks, musicians, singers, and buffoons. The duchess of Ferrara sent two harpists, for example. All manner of instrumentalists were brought in to entertain, and there was a tally of the quantities of food ordered for the banquet, but without prices.

And if you did not have everything necessary for a meal, you could rent or borrow what was needed. As Alison Smith has shown, the Accademia Filarmonica in Verona met in rented quarters, not in a palazzo or at court^[123]; members organized and paid for informal dinners and larger banquets at regular intervals during winter and spring; borrowed or rented tableware, cooking equipment, and even furniture; Accademia account books record expenses for food, etc. By the end of the sixteenth century, dinners were more elaborate in terms of menus and tableware. It is likely that other academies throughout Italy did the same thing as did dining clubs like the Company of the Cauldron in Florence. This is an early version of catering, where it was possible to rent a space, rent the furnishings and cooking equipment, or borrow tableware and anything else to make the event successful (including buying food, of course). Marin Sanudo, recording many banquets hosted by the various Compagnie della Calze in Venice, noted that they often rented equipment and furnishings for their elaborate affairs—even bucintori (large barge-like boats) on which to hold functions.^[124] And several of the lists associated with the arrangements for Sixtus V’s visit to Castel Gandolfo include items rented or borrowed. It must have been a fairly common occurrence to borrow items; we know that it was common to borrow silver plate for display on the credenza, so why not other items, including tapestries for decorating the walls as Laura Pallavicina-Sanvitale and others did?

From Meal Planning to Fine Dining

Simultaneously (or nearly so) with the meal planning came the preparation for serving the meal; even for the smallest meal much work needed to be done. First of all, it had to be decided where the meal was to be served, and even this decision involved many variables: Was it summer or winter? Were there guests? If so, how many? Was it a festive occasion or an informal meal with friends? No matter the location, tables and chairs had to be brought into the room and set up, tablecloths, napkins, and cutlery put in place along with candles and any other table decorations. A credenza for the cold service and the wine steward’s table needed to be put in place and properly outfitted. Even the fireplace had to be lit if it were a cool day. The orchestration of dining, as we will see, could be quite complex, and the cast of characters needed to make it all happen, from serving the meal to cleaning up afterward, had to be organized. We turn now to the art of dining.

ASMn, A.G. b. 2932, L 299, cc 120v, 121r, 1529, 26 December.

ASR, Archivio Sforza-Cesarini, b. 22, fasc. 30a.

Terence Scully, introduction to The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi (1570): L’arte et prudenza d’un maestro cuoco (The Art and Craft of a Master Cook), written by Bartolomeo Scappi, trans. Terence Scully (Toronto, Buffalo, and London: University of Toronto Press, 2008), 4.

Mary Hollingsworth, The Cardinal’s Hat: Money, Ambition, and Housekeeping in a Renaissance Court (London: Profile Books, 2004), 57.

Anne Willan, The Cookbook Library (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 2012), 86.

David Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance Rome (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979), 108.

Ken Albala, The Banquet: Dining in the Great Courts of Late Renaissance Europe (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2007), xi; ASR, Archivio Sforza-Cesarini, b. 22, fasc. 30a.

Bridget Ann Henisch, Fast and Feast in Medieval Society (College Park, PA: Penn State University Press, 1976), 32.

Claudio Benporat, Feste e banchetti, convivialita Italiana fra tre a quattrocento (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, Editore, 2001), 98–99.

10.

Bernardino Corio, Historia di Milano, ed. Anna Morisi Guera (Turin: UTET, 1985), 2:1385–92; Claudio Benporat, Storia della cucina gastronomia Italiana (Milan: Mursia Editore, 1990), 74–75; Benporat, Feste e banchetti, 167, 173.

11.

For Eleonora’s letter, see Benporat, Feste e banchetti, 167–71.

12.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2996, L. 31, c. 58v, 1514, 12 November.

13.

Domenico Romoli, La singolare dottrina (Venice: Giobattista Bonfadino, 1593), cc. 32v–127v. There are two more: “Convito per la sera per Venere o Sabbato per il detta mese” with a “collatione per la mattina” followed by a six-course meal and “Convito del mese del Settembre per la sera alla Francese” with a morning collation and a six-course meal.

14.

Ibid.; the two evening collations were March 10 and 11, 1546.

15.

Ibid.

16.

Scully, introduction to The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi (1570), 46.

17.

Ibid., 397–400.

18.

ASMn. A.G. b. 394, fol. 760r.

19.

Sergio Bertelli, The Courts of the Italian Renaissance (Milan: Arnoldo Mondadori, Editore, 1985), 200–201.

20.

Benporat, Feste e banchetti, 148–51.

21.

ASR, Archivio Sforza-Cesarini, b. 22, fasc. 30a.

22.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2996 L. 30 cc80v, 81r, 1513, 3 May.

23.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2932, L 299, cc 120v, 121r, 1529, 26 December.

24.

Achivio di Stato Milan (hereafter, ASM). Sforzesco, b. 1462, c.155, 1462, 31 July.

25.

ASMn. A.G. bb. 2479, 2489, 2491, XVIII, 1510, 22 October; XIX, 1510, 22 October; XXII, 1510, 28 October. In another letter by Ludovico to Francesco (XXIII, 1514, 1 August), he discusses the acquisition of a variety of meat and poultry.

26.

ASMn. A.G. b. 1250, 1530, 21 January, Federico writing to Forno, b. 1530, 21 January, Forno writing to Federico.

27.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2994, L. 17, c. 33r, 1504, 20 August, b. 2506, c. 457, 1525, 6 April, b. 3000, L. 49, c. 122v, 1530, 20 August.

28.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2103, c. 153r, 1477, 17 December.

29.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2993, L. 14, c. 38v, 1502, 12 November.

30.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2097, c. 312, 1462, 4 August.

31.

ASMn. A.G., b. 2994, L. 18, c. 72r, 73r, 1506, 17 March, L. 19, c. 20v. 1506, 10 July.

32.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2999, L. 48, c. 13, 1528, 9 July.

33.

ASM, Sforzesco, b. 1483, c. 185, 10 June 1493.

34.

ASMn. A. G. b. 3000, L. 50, c. 154v, 1533, 22 November, in a letter to Jacopo Theobaldeo, b. 2993, L. 12, c. 4v, 1500, 16 November.

35.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2997, L. 36, c. 32r, 1519, 27 February.

36.

ASMn. A.G. b. 1245, 1519, 7 August.

37.

ASMn. A.G. b. 3000, L. 50, c. 189v, 1532, 11 March, b. 2406, 1466, 5 April, b. 2932, L. 299, c. 143rv, 1530, 29 January.

38.

ASMn. A.G. b. 759, c. 82 r, 1528, 15 December, c. 83r, 1528, 22 December, c. 131r, 1529, 16 November, c. 173r, 1531, 7 March.

39.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2096, c. 349r, 1460, 23 February, b. 2997, L. 35, c. 41v, 1518, 20 March.

40.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2997, L. 36, cc 31v, 32 r, 1519, 26 February, b. 2933, L. 300, c. 78, 1530, 13 March.

41.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2096, c. 183r, 1460, 29 September.

42.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2998, L. 42, c. 32r, 1523, 15 April, c. 59r, 1523, 3 May, b. 2511, c. 558r, 1528, 13 October.

43.

ASM, Sforzesco, b.1459, c. 415, 1467, 21 October.

44.

ASM, Sforzesco, b. 1459, c. 196, 1468, 6 October.

45.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2993, L. 10, c. 26r, 1499, 20 January, Isabella to Alfonso, b. 2997, L. 33, c. 11v, 1516, 9 May, L. 34, c. 36r, 1517, 8 March.

46.

ASMn. A. G. b. 2997, L. 34, c. 85r, 1517, 17 October; b. 1154, 1532, 26 January.

47.

ASM, Sforzesco, b. 1484, fasc. “Fiori e frutta,” 11 May 1467.

48.

ASM, Sforzesco, b. 1468, c. 37, 1467, 30 June.

49.

ASMn. Sforzesco, b. 1457, c. 334, 1462, 29 October; b. 1460, c. 96, 1468, 17 September.

50.

ASM. Sforzesco, b. 1483, c. 193, 1499, 6 August.

51.

ASM. Sforzesco, b. 1483, c. 190, 1495, 31 January.

52.

ASM. Sforzesco, b. 1459, c. 247, 1463, 28 October; b. 1483, fasc. “Pesca e pesci,” March 22, 1453.

53.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2991, L. 6, c, 30v, 1496, 24 February.

54.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2991, L. 2, c. 91r, 1492, 12 December, b. 2908, L. 160, cc. 146v-147r, 1498, 14 December.

55.

ASMn. A.G. b, 863, cc.190–91, 1515, 20 March.

56.

ASMn. A. G. b. 2996, L. 31, c. 70v. 1515, 4 February.

57.

ASMn. A.G. b. 1197, 1519, 13 March.

58.

ASMn. A.G. b. 1464, c. 3`3r, 1530, 18 January.

59.

Marin Sanudo, Venice, Cità Excelentissima: Selections from the Renaissance Diaries, ed. Patricia H. Labalme and Laura Sanguineti White, trans. Linda L. Carroll (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008), 465.

60.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2998, L. 38, c. 47, 1521, 6 November.

61.

Ibid.

62.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2998, L. 41, c. 61r, 1523, 21 January.

63.

ASM. Sforzesco, b. 1457, c. 53, 1456, 22 September; c. 108, 1457, 23 September; b. 1561, c. 48, 1457, 11 August; b. 1459, c. 254, 1464, 5 October.

64.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2997, L. 34, c, 30v, 1517, 17 March.

65.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2297, L. 35, c. 80r, 1518, 7 July.

66.

Platina (Bartolomeo Sacchi), Platina: On Right Pleasure and Good Health: A Critical Edition and Translation of De honesta voluptate et valetudine, ed. and trans. Mary Ella Milham (Tempe, AZ: Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 1998), 467.

67.

Hollingsworth, The Cardinal’s Hat, 52.

68.

Ibid., 225, 235.

69.

ASMn., A. G. b. 1246, c. 731, 1518, 18 September.

70.

Ibid., b. 2994, L. 18, c. 72v, 1506, 17 March.

71.

Giovanni Battista Panatta, “La mensa del principe,” in A Tavola con il Principe, ed. Jadranta Bentini, Alessandra Chiappini, Giovanni Battista Panatta, and Anna Maria Visser Travaglia (Ferrara: Gabriele Corbo, Editore, 1989), 85, 88.

72.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2097, c. 312, 1462, 4 August.

73.

Marco Spallanzani and Giovanna Gaeta Bertela, eds., Libro d’inventario dei beni di Lorenzo il Magnifico (Florence: Associazione Amici del Bargello, 1992), 168, 180; Amanda Lille, Florentine Villas in the Fifteenth Century: An Architectural Social History. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 27.

74.

Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, trans. Gaston Du C de Vere (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1996), 1:683.

75.

Maria Luisa Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa, Pranzi e conviti, la cucina Toscana dal XVI secolo ai giorni d’ oggi (Florence: Edizioni Polistampa, 2010), 43.

76.

H. Anna Suh, ed. and trans., Leonardo’s Notebooks (New York: Black Dog and Leventhal Publishers, 2009), 302.

77.

Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa, Pranzi e conviti, 48.

78.

Dave DeWitt, Da Vinci’s Kitchen: A Secret History of Italian Cuisine (Dallas: Ben Bella Books, 2006), 114–22.

79.

Ken Albala, Eating Right in the Renaissance (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 2002), 27n24; Charles D. O’Malley and J. B. de C. M. Saunders, Leonardo da Vinci on the Human Body (New York: H. Schuman, 1952), 238–39.

80.

Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa, Pranzi e conviti, 48.

81.

The Codex Atlanticus was a huge leather-bound volume, about two feet tall, which was dismantled in the 1960s and made into twelve leather-bound volumes that are in the Biblioteca Ambrosiana in Milan.

82.

Ascanio Condivi, The Life of Michelangelo, ed. Hellmut Wohl, trans. Alice Sedgewick Wohl, 2nd ed. (University Park, PA: Penn State University Press, 1999), 106.

83.

Ibid., 49–50.

84.

Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa, Pranzi e conviti, 49.

85.

Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, 2:371.

86.

Jacopo Carrucci da Pontormo, Diario dal 1554 al 1555, MSS Palatino, 621 (Florence: Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, 1890), 36, 53, 75–76.

87.

Ibid.; Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa, Pranzi e conviti, 107.

88.

Pontormo, Diario, 82.

89.

Deborah Parker, Bronzino, Renaissance Painter as Poet (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 11.

90.

Franca Petrucci-Nardelli, ed. Agnolo Bronzino, Rime in Burla (Rome: Istituto della Enciclopedia Italiana Fondata da Giovani Treccani, 1988), 89–110, 135–43.

91.

Parker, Bronzino, 31.

92.

Petrucci-Nardelli, Agnolo Bronzino, 95–96. “Voi avete pur visto dell’anguille, tagliato il capo e morte d’un gran pezzo, far la padella vive resentille. E cosi anche qualche volta un pezzo di porco o di vitello o lepre o bue saltar della padella verdemezzo e stridere e soffiare; onde, che piue volete voi da lei, s’ella da il moto e la favella con le virtu sue?”

93.

Incontri Lotteringhi della Stufa, Pranzi e conviti, 109–10; Petrucci-Nardelli, Agnolo Bronzino, 106, lines 91–96, 115–119; 107, lines 151–53; and 108, lines 157–59.

94.

Agostino Gallo, Le dieci giornate della vera agricoltura e piaceri della villa, Day VIII (Venice: Giovanni Bariletto, 1566), folls. 138r-151v.

95.

Hollingsworth, The Cardinal’s Hat, 54.

96.

Bartolomeo Scappi, The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi (1570): L’arte et prudenza d’un maestro cuoco (The Art and Craft of a Master Cook), trans. and with commentary by Terence Scully (Toronto, Buffalo, and London: University of Toronto Press, 2008).

97.

Sabine Eiche, ed., Ordine et officij de casa de lo illustrissimo signor duca de Urbino (Urbino: Accademia Raffaello, 1999), 97.

98.

Romoli, La singolare dottrina.

99.

Scappi, The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi (1570).

100.

ASR, Archivio Sforza-Cesarini, b. 22, facs. 30a.

101.

Sanudo, Venice, 303–4.

102.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2998, L. 38, c. 147v, 1521.

103.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2998, L 42, c. 9v, 1523, 18 March, c. 28v, 1523, 9 April.

104.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2996, L 32, c. 71v, 1516, 28 January; L. 30a, c. 74, 1514, 4 February; L 30, c. 98r, 1514, 31 March.

105.

In 1596, the Apostalic Cameria acquired Castel Gandolfo for only 150,000 scudi when Lucrezia Anguillara Savelli defaulted on a loan (George L. Williams, Papal Genealogy: The Families and Descendants of the Popes [Jefferson, NC, and London: McFarland, 2004], 112). Bernardino Savelli died December 24, 1590, leaving his estates in the care of his wife.

106.

ASR, Archivio Sforza-Cesarini, b. 22, facs. 30a.

107.

Archivio storico capitolino, Archivio Orsini, b. 414, parte 2, c. 143, 1593, 1 January.

108.

ASMn. A.G. b. 389, c. 137rv, 153r, 158r, 215r, 217r, 229v, 230rv, 233r, 243rv.

109.

ASMn. A.G. b 389, c. 217r, 1574, 19 July.

110.

Giovanni Battista Rossetti, Dello scalco (Ferrara: Domenico Mammarello, 1584), 8.

111.

See chapter 3, note 15.

112.

Scappi, The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi (1570), 412–20.

113.

Ibid., 382.

114.

Claudio Benporat, Cucina e convivialita Italiano nel cinquecento (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, Editore, 2007), 332–36, from Cervio, 123.

115.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2047, fasc. 18, cc. 32ss, 1543, 24 September.

116.

Marina Cogotti and June di Schino, eds. Magnificenza a Tavola: Le arti del banchetto rinascimentale (Rome: De Luca Editori d’ Arte, 2012), 27–28.

117.

Hollingsworth, The Cardinal’s Hat, xii.

118.

ASMn. A.G. b. 2996, L. 31, c. 58v, 1514, 12 November.

119.

Archivio di Stato, Venice, Ms. Ufficiali alle Rason Vecchie, Notatorio, Reg. 27, c. 188 sgg., in Pompeo Molmenti, Venice, Its Individual Growth from the Earliest Beginnings to the Fall of the Republic, trans. Horatio Brown, part 2 (Chicago: A.C. McClug & Co., 1907), 2:291–97.

120.

Benporat, Feste e banchetti, 149–51.

121.

“Contribuzioni di commestibili e doni vari per le nozze di Federico I Gonzaga con Margherita Wittelsbach di Bavaria, avvenute il 7 giugno 1463,” in Cronaca universale della citta di Mantova, by Federigo Amadei (Mantua: C.I.T.E.M., 1954), 1:133–38.

122.

Benporat, Feste e banchetti, 235–36.

123.

Alison Smith, “Hosting a Dinner Party, Renting Equipment and Paying for Food: How the Accademia Filarmonica Entertained Members and Guests in Later Sixteenth-Century Verona” (paper presented at the Renaissance Society of America Conference, San Diego, CA, April 2013), and our many conversations.

124.

Sanudo, Venice, 287–88, 297.