Dispelling Some Myths: Romans in the Americas

The mosaic floor pictured (right) is housed in a gallery dedicated to ancient Roman frescoes and mosaics on the second floor of the Palazzo Massimo alle Terme in Roma. It dates from the early 1st-century AD and illustrates various food items. At the top of the scene, a basket of fruit is brimming with figs, grapes, pomegranates, and the object circled. Some viewers see a pineapple and this has led others to postulate that it is clear evidence that the ancient Romans had contact with South America (see Metatron, 2022). But this ‘theory’ is wrong on so many levels that we felt it deserved the ‘Dispelling Some Myths’ treatment.

Familiarity breeds…  First off, let us deal with the simplest explanation of what viewers are seeing. How we perceive the world is heavily influenced by our experiences of it. When we view something novel or unusual our brains tend to decipher the image according to what we already know. So, for many of us living in the Americas and Europe. Having made their way to England in the 17th-century, by the 18th-century pineapples were the country's must-have accessory gracing the tables of the very richest aristocrats' social gatherings. They were such a rare, desirable item that the scaly, sweet fruit was too valuable to eat - a single pineapple was worth thousands of pounds and often the same one would be paraded from event to event until it eventually went rotten. In time a ‘roaring trade in pineapple rental developed, where ambitious but less well-off folk might hire one for a special event, dinner party or even just to jauntily tuck under an arm on a show-off stroll’ (Bell, 2020).

Until quite recently pineapples were rare, beautiful fruit most people had never encountered. Then artists began incorporating pineapples in their work, whether depicted in a painting or elegantly carved into wooden furniture. Today, with a truly global trade, it is now common to find pineapples in your local grocery store. For most modern viewers of the mosaic what they see therefore is a pineapple because from familiarity that is what they recognise. But the introduction of pineapples to Europe post-dates the Roman period by several centuries so how could the mosaicist have pictured pineapples?

Baffling?  In her blog ‘Mystery in an Ancient Mosaic’, Rome tour guide Katie Farrar comments that the ‘presence of this tropical fruit (Ananas comosus) has baffled historians because the plant is indigenous to South America and wasn’t brought to Europe until the time of Christopher Columbus’ (Farrar, 2020). As Farrar also points out this mosaic floor is not the first time an object strikingly similar to a pineapple appears in Roman art. In Pompeii, a fresco discovered in the House of the Ephebe shows a child making an offering to the gods. The object looks like the fruit of a pineapple, but clearly cannot be. The most logical solution, therefore, is that Roman artists were trying to represent something they and their clients were familiar with. Those things were pinecones, which were considered symbols of fertility by the Assyrians, Egyptians, Greeks and Romans. But by adding foliage to make the pinecones more artistically appealing, the Roman artists were not to know that the result would baffle viewers familiar with pineapples several hundred years later.

So, the objects thought to be pineapples in mosaics and frescoes are in fact pinecones. Even so, the misidentified ‘pineapples’ have led to numerous theories about the possibility of contact between Native Americans and the ancient Romans. 

Romans in the Americas  As we have seen, it is true that pineapples are indeed native to South America. It is also true that as their empire stretched right round the Mediterranean, the Romans had to be relatively good seafarers, although perhaps not as comfortable at sea as their neighbours the Greeks. Yet the Romans’ ability to trade widely, traversing the Mediterranean Sea, and likewise the Arabian Sea for Indian spices, does not lend any credibility to theories that they sailed across the Atlantic Ocean only to discover, and return with, pineapples. It is reasonable to say that Graeco-Roman ship technology was well suited to Mediterranean seafaring. We also know that the circumnavigated Britannia. In doing so they must have traversed the seas off the North and West coasts of Scotland, the Irish Sea and possible the Atlantic Ocean, areas that can be treacherous to shipping - just ask the Spanish Armada! Yet it is highly unlikely that Roman ships were robust enough to cope with a long Atlantic crossing [1]. More importantly, contemporary accounts by Greek and Roman geographers, historians and commentators make no mention of lands West of Ireland. The likelihood, therefore, of the Romans being even remotely aware that the Americas even existed is extremely doubtful.

Columbus  For Europeans to discover pineapples necessitated a wait of some thousand years after the collapse of the Roman empire in the West (or, if you prefer, 40 years from the demise of the Eastern Roman or Byzantine Empire in AD 1453). Enter Cristoforo Colombo Columbus the well-known Italian explorer and navigator who completed four voyages across the Atlantic Ocean, opening the way for the widespread European exploration and colonization of the Americas. Although largely self-educated, Columbus was widely read in geography, astronomy, and history. He developed a plan to seek a western sea passage to the East Indies, hoping to profit from the lucrative spice trade. As an aside, it was common knowledge among sailors like Columbus that Earth was a sphere (cf. flat earthers!) so sailing West to reach the East made perfect sense.

Sponsored by the Catholic Monarchs of Spain, Columbus left Castile in Agust 1492 with three ships intending to circumnavigate the globe westwards and establish a new trade route to India. On October 12th, 1492, after months at sea, Columbus’ expedition made landfall on an island in the Bahamas, known by its native inhabitants as Guanahani. He subsequently visited the islands now known as Cuba and Hispaniola, establishing a colony in what is now Haiti. Columbus returned to Castile in early 1493 taking a number of captured natives with him.

Columbus made three further voyages to the Americas, exploring the Lesser Antilles later in 1493, Trinidad and the northern coast of South America in 1498, and the eastern coast of Central America in 1502. Many of the names he gave to geographical features - particularly islands - are still in use. He also gave the name indios (‘Indians’) to the indigenous peoples he encountered. Clearly Columbus thought he had landed in India, hence referring to natives as ‘Indians’; a term that stuck for the next 500 years [2].

Conclusion  The extent to which Columbus was aware that the Americas were a wholly separate landmass is uncertain; he never clearly renounced his belief that he had reached the Far East. But before Columbus’ expeditions and his discovery of the Caribbean, Central America, and South America, we can safely conclude that Europeans could not have known about pineapples.

Hopefully, we have shown that even though the objects depicted in Roman mosaics and frescoes look like pineapples, they clearly cannot be. Rather the artists were depicting something far more mundane that viewers in the Mediterranean world would recognise simply as pinecones. We also know that before Columbus’ discoveries established European, particularly Spanish, interest in Central and South America pineapples were unknown outside this distant continent. As for the Romans, they had no idea that the Americas existed and nor did they have the seafaring technology to safely navigate the Atlantic Ocean. Consequently, any suggestion of links between pineapples, Romans and the Americas is simply wishful thinking.

References:

Bell, B., (2020), ‘The rise, fall, and rise of the status pineapple’, BBC News, available online: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-53432877 (accessed April 6th, 2022).

Farrar, K. (2020), ‘Mystery in an Ancient Mosaic’, Eyes of Rome, available on-line: https://eyesofrome.com/blog/eyes-on-storytelling/mystery-in-an-ancient-mosaic (accessed February 28th, 2022).

Metatron (2022), ‘Did the Romans Discover America? Debunking Video’, YouTube, available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4szHp_gcvA (accessed February 12th, 2022).

Endnotes:

1. The width of the Atlantic Ocean varies from 1,769 mi (2,848 km) between Brazil and Liberia to about 3,000 mi (4,830 km) between the United States and northern Africa.

2. In North America, the indigenous populations are known as Native Americans in USA and the First Nation in Canada. The latter term somehow seems preferable as it acknowledges who first inhabited the land and that those people had a developed notion of nationhood.

A Brief History of Foods: Pineapple

The pineapple (Latin: Ananas comosus) [1] is a tropical plant with an edible fruit indigenous to South America, where it has been cultivated for many centuries. The introduction of the pineapple to Europe in the 17th-century made it a significant cultural icon of luxury. Since the 1820s, pineapple has been commercially grown in greenhouses and many tropical plantations.

The wild plant is native to southern Brazil and Paraguay, especially the Paraná-Paraguay River area where wild relatives occur (Morton, 1987, 18-28). Little is known about its domestication, but it spread as a crop throughout South America. Archaeological evidence of cultivation/use has been found dating to 1200 - 800 BC in Peru and 200 BC - AD 700 in Mexico, where it was cultivated by the Mayas and the Aztecs. By the late 1400s, cropped pineapple was widely distributed and a stable component of the diet of Meso- Americans (Morton, op. cit.).

Europe’s obsession  The first European to encounter the pineapple was Columbus, in Guadeloupe on November 4th, 1493 and again in Panama in 1502. He took the plant back to Spain introducing it as piña de Indes, meaning ‘pine of the Indians’. Eventually, in the 17th-century, the fruit was named pineapple in English because its appearance was reminiscent of the pinecone. The pineapple fascinated Europeans, but it was not successfully cultivated in Europe until Pieter de la Court developed greenhouse horticulture near Leiden sometime around 1658. Before then Europeans had to rely on the extremely expensive option of directly importing pineapples. De la Court’s innovation allowed the fruits to be home-grown but the equipment and labour required to grow them in a temperate climate in greenhouses called ‘pineries’ remained enormous. Thus, pineapples became a symbol of wealth. They were such a rare, desirable item that the scaly, sweet fruit was too valuable to eat - a single pineapple was worth thousands of pounds and often the same one would be paraded from event to event, dinner party to dinner party until it eventually went rotten. In time a ‘roaring trade in pineapple rental developed, where ambitious but less well-off folk might hire one for a special event, dinner party or even just to jauntily tuck under an arm on a show-off stroll’ (Bell, 2020). Even in the architecture of the time, pineapples became decorative elements symbolizing hospitality. They can still be seen as finials on railings, in gardens and adorning gate pillars in Britain today.

Pineapple plants were distributed from the Netherlands to English gardeners in 1719 and to the French a year later. In England, the first pineapple was grown at Dorney Court in Buckinghamshire, and a huge ‘pineapple stove’ to heat the plants was built at the Chelsea Physic Garden in 1723. While in France, King Louis XV was presented with a pineapple that had been grown at Versailles in 1733, and in Russia, Catherine the Great ate pineapples grown on her own estates before 1796.

Pineapples do not want to be eaten!  The fruit is a collection of flowers, each with its own eye fused around a central core, which takes a staggering three years to mature (Shubrook, 2022). The flesh and juice of the pineapple are used in cuisines around the world. In many tropical countries, pineapple is prepared and sold on roadsides as a snack, perhaps whole or in halves with a stick inserted. Whole, cored slices with a cherry in the middle are a common garnish on hams in the West. Chunks of pineapple are used in desserts such as fruit salad, as well as in some savoury dishes, including pizza toppings, or as a grilled ring on a hamburger. Crushed pineapple is used in yogurt, jam, sweets, and ice cream. The juice of the pineapple is served as a beverage, and it is also the main ingredient in cocktails such as the piña colada and in the drink tepache.

Despite its widespread use it is clear that pineapples do not want to be eaten. With a tuft of spiky green leaves on top, the fruit’s iconic shape is formed by a tough, segmented outer skin whose spiky or scaly bumps are called ‘eyes’. If you can slice open this ‘armoured’ skin, you'll find bright yellow flesh that is both sweet and tart. But wait.

Right after you eat fresh pineapple you may have an itchy tongue or sore lips. This is because it contains bromelain an enzyme extract derived from the plant’s stem, although it exists in all parts of the fresh pineapple. Bromelain is very useful as a meat tenderiser as it breaks down proteins. For this reason, if you place a segment of fresh pineapple between your gum line and lip you may feel the action of bromelain as it begins to tenderise - ‘eat away’ - at your flesh. It is a strange feeling but not one to worry about unduly because as soon as you swallow the fruit, your stomach acids destroy the ‘flesh-eating’ enzyme (Booth, 2020). Yet, with its ‘armoured skin’ and ‘flesh-eating enzyme’, pineapples are giving you every clue that they do not want to be eaten. Bon appétit!

References:

Bell, B., (2020), ‘The rise, fall, and rise of the status pineapple’, BBC News, available online: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-53432877 (accessed April 6th, 2022).

Booth, S., (2020), ‘Health Benefits of Pineapple’, available online: https://www.webmd.com/food-recipes/benefits-pineapple (accessed February 12th, 2022).

Morton, J., (1987), ‘Pineapple’, in ‘Fruits of warm climates’, Florida: Miami, available online: https://hort.purdue.edu/newcrop/morton/pineapple.html (accessed April 18th, 2022).

Shubrook, N., (2022), ‘The health benefits of pineapple’, BBC Good Food, available online: https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/howto/guide/health-benefits-pineapple (accessed February 12th, 2022).

Endnotes:

1. Comosus means 'tufted' in reference to the stem of the plant.

What's in a Name: Barbarian

In April 2022 social media, specifically Twitter, was awash with criticism of the UK’s Conservative government’s plans to privatise Channel Four, a well-known and well-respected media company. Without becoming too political, the Government has argued that Channel Four is being held back against the rise of media giants such as Netflix and Amazon because it is a publicly-owned, public service broadcaster. Despite consultation with various parties who overwhelmingly advised that the Department of Digital, Culture, Media and Sport’s position was both ill-judged and unnecessary given the broadcaster track record, the government has announced it will press on regardless. This has prompted a storm of tweets railing against the government position while being highly supportive of Channel Four continuing unchanged and without interference.

Several comments on social media branded the government’s move as ‘cultural vandalism’ but it was Professor of IT Law at the University of East Anglia’s Law School Paul Bernal’s labelling it ‘barbarism’ that struck a chord. We took this to imply he meant some form of ‘uncultured savagery’ reflecting the modern sense of the term. Yet such words have long histories (etymologies [1]) and their original meaning may not be what you might think.

Etymology  In ancient Greek barbaroi (sing. barbaros) meant ‘all that are not Greek’ in the sense that someone was ‘foreign, strange; ignorant’. The word derives from the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) root *barbar- implying or imitating the unintelligible speech of foreigners. For the Greeks it was especially used to refer to the Medes and Persians who, at the time, were a major power challenging Greek hegemony but people who clearly did not speak a ‘civilised’ language such as Greek. Originally referring to the Medes or Persians as barbaroi was not entirely pejorative but it became more so after the Persian Wars (499 BC to 449 BC).

The Romans (technically themselves barbaroi) adopted the word and applied it to tribes or nations that to them had no Greek or Roman accomplishments. Following the Greek precedent, the Latin barbarus also meant anything or any person who in the Romans’ eyes were ‘strange, foreign or uncivilised’. 

By the early 15th-century, in a direct reference to classical history, ‘barbarian’ was used to refer to ‘a non-Roman or non-Greek person but could also mean a ‘non-Christian’ or a ‘person speaking a language different from one's own’. In Medieval Latin barbarinus was the source of Old French barbarin meaning a Berber, a pagan, a Saracen, or simply a ‘barbarian’.

So, at its purest form, ‘barbarian’ simply means someone from a different culture to one’s own who spoke a different language. From early on, however, the term clearly had derogatory overtones and was heavily imbued with the negative notions of someone being uncivilised, uncultured, uncouth, and savage.

Dismissive voices  Greco-Roman society was highly patriarchal so it should come as no surprise to find their world view somewhat patronising. Moreover, Roman society was a martial one. Service in the army was one part of the cursus honorem [3] expected of all men of the senatorial class competing to achieve power, prestige, influence and wealth. Roman military success in conquering an empire round the Mediterranean, allied with their general warlike mentality, gave such men an air of superiority. In those circumstances, it is easy to see why Romans, especially soldiers, would be contemptuous of ‘others’.

Indeed Vindolanda Tablet 164 provides us with the first known occurrence of the derogatory term ‘Brittunculi’ meaning ‘little Britons’ [4]. This is often taken as an example of the derision expressed by the Romans for those they had conquered. Yet other Roman authors give the distinct impression that they thought the Britons were fearsome looking warriors (cf. Caesar, Gallic War, V.14) [5] prepared to resist Roman annexation. Nevertheless, the martial prowess attributed to the Britons by Roman authors is undoubtedly propaganda intended to make Roman victories over the tribes all the more glorious. So, were the Britons, and by extension the Gallic and Germanic tribes, the peoples of North Africa and of the Levant and Anatolia really savage, uncivilised barbarians?

Much like in the ‘the Dark Ages’, today a largely discredited term, the tribal societies living in NW Europe left few if any written records. While the same cannot be said of the peoples of Mesopotamia, the Levant and of those the Greeks called ‘Medes’ or ‘Persians’, what we believe we know of early Europeans is heavily influenced by the contemporary histories of Greco-Roman authors. These same authors, as we have seen, could be highly contemptuous of ‘others’ and were undoubtedly instrumental in colouring our earlier understanding of the period and its people. Fortunately, reappraisal by more modern historians backed up by archaeology, with its scientific basis and advances in technology, has revealed the societies bordering or within the Greco-Roman world were far more nuanced, cultured and civilised. Indeed, in the scene ‘what have the Romans ever done for us’ in the classic 1979 Monty Python film ‘The Life of Brian’ there is little in the list of their achievements that could not be equally applied to nearly all non-Roman people. Hardly savage, uncouth barbarians.

References:

Online Etymology Dictionary, ‘Barbarian’, Available online: https://www.etymonline.com/word/barbarian (accessed April 9th, 2022).

Gaius Julius Caesar, ‘Gallic War’, Book V, chapter 14, Available online: https://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Caesar/Gallic_War/5A*.html (accessed April 12th, 2022).

Endnotes:

1. Etymology is the study of the history of linguistic forms, that is the history of how words are written and pronounced, and how their spelling and pronunciation changed.

2. A cynic might say that is the intention all along. From history it is fairly evident that investors are typically members of the Conservative Party, supporters or financial donors to said party. In other words, they are in-bed with the very ministers who have the power to make such changes, and all have mutual vested interests in benefitting from privatisation.

3. The cursus honorum (Latin for 'course of honours', or more colloquially 'ladder of offices') was the sequential order of public offices held by aspiring politicians in the Roman Republic and the early Roman Empire. Designed for men of senatorial rank, the cursus honorum comprised a mixture of military and political administration posts; the ultimate prize for winning election to each 'rung' in the sequence was to become one of the two consuls in a given year.

4. Brittunculi is often translated as ‘wretched Britons’ or ‘nasty little Britons’, or something similar, to imply the disdain felt by Romans towards the indigenous tribespeople. But ‘Brittunculi’ is derived from Brittō (‘Briton’) +‎ -culus, a diminutive suffix in Latin to indicate ‘little’ or ‘small’. Thus ‘Brittunculi’ literally means ‘little Britons’.

5. ‘All the Britons, indeed, dye themselves with woad, which produces a blue colour, and makes their appearance in battle more terrible.’ Ironically, Caesar’s opening description of the inhabitants of Kent calls them ‘by far the most civilised, differing but little from the Gallic manner of life.’ The southern British tribes shared a lot in common with the nearest neighbours across the channel in Gaul. The Romans may well have found the similarities familiar which gives context to Caesar’s ‘civilised’ comment.

A Brief History of Foods: Leeks

According to a BBC News tweet (see right), the ‘Welsh leek’ could be set for protected status [1], alongside foods including Cheddar cheese and Cornish pasties, after an application from growers. Despite appearances to the contrary, the fact that this was tweeted in March 2022 suggests this is not an April Fool’s joke. So, what makes the Welsh variety of leek different to those from elsewhere? To justify the Welsh position, Tink Llewellyn explains all in this short video for the BBC.

As with many of the familiar, ‘traditional’ foods we are grow and regularly consume in the UK, their origins are often not we might assume. This series, ‘A Brief History of Foods’, reveals how surprisingly few of our commonly used ingredients are not native to these shores. Such is the case with leeks, Welsh or not.

The humble leek  The leek is a vegetable, a cultivar of Allium ampeloprasum, the broadleaf wild leek (syn. Allium porrum). The genus Allium also contains the onion, garlic, shallot, scallion, chive, and Chinese onion. The name ‘leek’ developed from the Old English word leac, from which the modern English name for garlic also derives (Brewster, 2008, 30).

Rather than forming a tight bulb like the onion, the leek produces a long cylinder of bundled leaf sheaths that are generally blanched by pushing soil around them (trenching). Sometimes erroneously called a stem or stalk, the bundle of leaf sheaths, and the lighter green parts, are the edible parts of the plant. The dark green parts are usually discarded as they have a tougher texture. Unsurprisingly, given that they are from the Allium family, leeks have a mild, onion-like taste, and in their raw state, are crunchy and firm.

Most recipes typically call for leeks to be chopped into slices five to ten millimetre thick. In cooking, however, these slices have a tendency to fall apart because of their layered structure. Leeks can be eaten raw in salads, but are typically boiled, turning the vegetable softer and milder in taste, or fried to preserve their tasty crunch.

History  The Hebrew Bible talks of חציר, which commentators have identified as the leek, saying it was abundant in Egypt (Zohary et al., 2012, 195). Dried specimens from archaeological sites in ancient Egypt, as well as wall carvings and drawings, indicate that the leek was a part of the Egyptian diet from at least the second millennium BC [2].

Leeks were an important vegetable and aromatic in both Greek and Roman cuisine, and appear over sixty times in the recipes of Apicius. According to Pliny (the Elder), to improve his voice the Emperor Nero would ‘eat leeks and oil every month, upon stated days, abstaining from every other kind of food, and not touching so much as a morsel of bread even’ (Pliny, Historia Naturalis, XIX.XXX). Regardless of the veracity of Pliny’s claims, the leek’s introduction and cultivation ‘spread northwards in Roman times’ and is evidenced by ‘leek seeds [being] found in excavations of sites in Roman Gaul, Britain, and Germany’ (Dalby, 2003, 193). In all three regions, as well as in many others, wherever leeks have been introduced, they have continued to be grown. Today there are several leek cultivars, which can be subdivided in several ways, but the most common types are ‘summer leeks’ intended for harvest in the season when planted, and overwintering leeks meant to be harvested in the spring of the following year. As far as we can tell, not one of these cultivars is known as a ‘Welsh’ leek.

The ‘Welsh’ leek?  On the face of it, an application for ‘Welsh’ leeks to receive protected status is seemingly pointless [3]. Why would anyone want to claim that a leek grown in England, Germany, France or indeed anywhere else was in fact ‘Welsh’? Is the suggestion that Welsh leeks are somehow different or superior to all others? According to one leek farmer, John Addams-Williams, they:

‘…tend to be slower growing, much stronger flavour, and they have a much more vibrant flag, and that’s really brilliant for using in Welsh dishes such as cawl’ [4].

That Mr Addams-Williams’ leeks are ‘slower growing’ may be a consequence of the prevailing cooler, wetter climate in Wales compared to elsewhere. As to whether they have a ‘stronger flavour’ is, firstly, his subjective opinion, and, secondly, a stronger flavour compared to what, or rather which, cultivars? As far as we are aware there is no specifically Welsh cultivar, so a leek from Wales is essentially just a leek. Mr Addams-Williams is not wrong, however, that the flavour of leeks grown in different areas or regions will vary. Yet this is less to do with their ‘Welshness’ and more to do with the variable length of the local growing season, the weather conditions, the type of soil, whether the plants have been forced or allowed to grow naturally and, for the consumer, how fresh they are - home-grown straight from the soil, bought from a nearby vegetable market, or travelling many miles to a supermarket shelf after weeks in cold-storage.

Cultural significance  Today the leek has become synonymous with Welsh culture, but as we have seen, this could not have happened before the spread of Roman culture across Britain. In the video (link above), Carwyn Graves, a food historian, commented on the mythology surrounding the leek in Welsh history stating:

‘The mythology’s been there for at least around 1,000 years. You actually get reference to Welshmen wearing leeks in Shakespeare. There are reports of battles from the Saxon era and the Welsh soldier wore, or some of them at least, wore a leek as a distinguishing marker. There are other accounts that say there was a battle fought in a field of leeks. But either way, people were referring to leeks by the early Middle Ages as a kind of marker of the Welsh.’

As Graves alludes to, according to legend King Cadwaladr of Gwynedd ordered his soldiers to distinguish themselves by wearing the vegetable on their helmets in an unidentified battle fought against the Saxons in an undisclosed leek field (Cumo. 2013, 561). The truth of legends is always difficult to determine but there are many historical instances for the wearing flora or other symbols in hats to distinguish belligerents. So, when in his play ‘Henry V’ William Shakespeare refers to the ‘ancient tradition’ of someone wearing a leek to signify they came from Wales, this has a genuine precedent. Whether wearing the leek was a peculiarly Welsh thing as the play might suggest is entirely another matter, however. Besides it is always worth remembering that Shakespeare was writing fiction not a history. Thus, like other contemporary authors, he undoubtedly drew inspiration from the past but also from the world around him. Shakespeare was, if nothing else, a man of his times and in his plays it is evident that he popularised national and racial stereotypes. Shakespeare as a source for the leek being a Welsh national icon is therefore questionable.

And finally…  Some years ago we were portraying ‘Roman’ life at a history event in Wales. At one point a gentleman accosted the author and vehemently argued that the ‘Romans’ had not conquered the Welsh. No amount of historical evidence presented would persuade him that his belief was essentially wrong. We agreed to disagree. Yet how ironic that someone with such a passion for Welsh nationalism, who proudly wore the leek, failed to grasp the significance that if it were not for the Romans, this very symbol would have been denied him.

References:

Brewster, J. L., (2008), Onions and other vegetable alliums (2nd ed.), Wallingford: CABI International.

Cumo, C., (2013), Encyclopedia of Cultivated Plants: From Acacia to Zinnia, ABC-CLIO.

Dalby, A. (2003), Food in the Ancient World from A to Z, London: Routledge.

Pliny, Historia Naturalis (‘Natural History’), Liber XIX, XXX (Book 19, Chapter 33 - The Leek).

Zohary, D., Hopf, M. and Weiss, E., (2012), Domestication of plants in the Old World: the origin and spread of domesticated plants in Southwest Asia, Europe, and the Mediterranean Basin (4th ed.), Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Endnotes:

1. The UK geographical indication (GI) protected food names (PFN) scheme was created at the beginning of 2021 after the UK's withdrawal from the EU. It ensures certain food and drink products can continue to receive legal protection against imitation and misuse by awarding Protected Designation of Origin (PDO), Protected Geographical Indication (PGI) or Traditional Specialties Guaranteed (TSG) status in line with current EU GI schemes. It must be comforting for British farmers to know that, in preserving trade with Europe, the UK government has removed dastardly EU protectionism in favour of some home-grown, and thus sovereign, UK protectionism.

2. The ancient Egyptian term for leeks also meant ‘vegetables’ in general (Dalby, 2003, 193).

3. It seems clear that the application to 'protect' Welsh leeks from 'imitation or misuse' is less to do with preserving cultural heritage and more to do with blatant commercialism.

4. We are not sure what Mr Addams-Williams meant by ‘vibrant flag’ but presume it might be a local term for the darker green leaves. Cawl (pronounced ‘cowl’), however, is a Welsh stew combining lamb and vegetables, including leek.