Nigel explains how the Roman precursor to our modern toilet brush, the xylospongium, gave us our grilled meat on a stick, our modern kebabs…and then he concludes with an original Parthian recipe.
Boris the Butt Brush LXXXC talks to Reggie Rubber Plunger and El Cheapo Plastic One under the toilet at the home of the author. See story, below.
The other day, while fulminating on the algorithmic vacuity of Facebook, I looked down and complained to my old friend, Boris the Butt Brush. He was reading Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. He replied, humorously misquoting Aurelius, “Where life is possible, then it is possible to live the right life; life is possible under a toilet, therefore, it is possible to live the right life under a toilet.”
What kind of an Ironist are You?
He continued, “The emptiness of modern life. Read a good book – even a few pages – and it is more enjoyable than half an hour scrolling on social media. How can you have an epiphany looking at an AI photograph and some fake story on Facebook? Let’s face it, modern life is destroying the soul. Do you know the story of my ancestor, Boris the Butt Brush the Great?” Tell me it, I said.
“Unlike today, where people think they know everything, Romans were great and confident in themselves enough to admire others that had gone before them. They looked back to the Greeks for inspiration. Senators, soldiers, tradesmen – they all used public latrines, together.
After their business, they used my forebear, a slave, the lowly Boris the Butt Brush the First, for the final act of hygiene. Of course, Romans were more elegant and learned than the vulgar of today, and used a euphemism, saying their slave was but a tool called a xylospongium, a ‘sponge on a stick’, from the Greek ξύλον, xylon, wooden stick, and σπόγγος, spongos, sea sponge, below:
A xylospongium, a sponge on a stick, found at Vindolanda, a Roman fort near Hadrian’s Wall, England
“Our ancestor was kept in a jar of vinegar, and had to swim around with the worms, typhus germs, and other intestinal maladies common in those days. And when he wasn’t floating in repellant waste, the flatulence of the Roman diet would surely offend. It was an unpleasant life. He was a master of understatement – his great line which has come down to us Butt Brushes, over some 85 generations, was:
Non magis queavit me pro xylosphongium
He paid me no more attention than he would a butt-brush
– Michigan Papyri VIII 471 = CEL 146 = ChLA XLII 1220 29
I interjected here and said it was no surprise that his clan became such great stoics. He laughed wryly, and continued, “Ah, actually, we became Stoics after we were tricked. I sense you are nearly finished with your business. I will hasten and cut to the quick. It was our great primogenitor’s gift to the West. Like everything from the West, we were cheated and misled in return.
“He had two children, a boy Ke, and a sweet girl named Babs. Ke means intelligence in our tongue – as it does in Japanese , even today. Babs comes from individual, unique, far-off; as in barbarian to the Greeks and Romans. As you know, our antecedents rode across the great Anatolian plains with the Parthians, defeating the Romans. We were carried with the women on pack horses. We shared our meals with the families. We watched them eat meat on skewers, roasted over the coals of Byzantine crosses. Ironically, we had the misfortune to be captured by the Romans, and enslaved. Doomed to be butt brushes.
“Wanting a better life for his children, Boris the First mentioned, while being used to wipe Emperor Caligula, the morning after an evening of debauchery, that he knew of a better tasting food than Caligula had ever had. In return for freeing his children, we would tell him. Caligula agreed, and Romans learned of skewered meats (see original recipe below). Sadly, Caligula reneged on his promise to free Ke and Babs, laughingly saying “Here’s a Parthian shot for you, you Parthian scum! Just as you tricked us feigning retreat, I’m tricking you! You will continue to wipe bottoms, but I will call this great food a kebab, instead!
Thus we became stoics….”
A reconstruction of a latrine on Hadrian’s Wall at Housesteads Fort
The Housesteads latrines today. They are, thankfully, not currently in use – except by some renegade Scots, at night, sheep-rustling in England’s green and pleasant pastures…
For further reading, see Stefanie Hoss’, Latrinae, Roman Toilets in the Northwestern Provinces of the Roman Empire, Archaeopress Roman Archaeology 31
Editor’s Note: The following original Parthian kebab recipe was reportedly discovered inscribed inside a Roman chamber pot near Ephesus (modern-day İzmir, pre-Ataturk alphabet ازمير, Σμύρνη, (Smyrna, from Attic and Ionian Greek), from older Aeolic Greek Μύρρα (Mýrrha, which is close to Hittite and Arzawa (think: ancient Troy) and Luwian Kingdom of Myra). Scholars are divided on the recipe’s authenticity, as GMO post-consumer oils were found in the residue of stale pee on the pot:
Original Kebab Recipe of the Parthians, as Prepared After the Battle of Carrhae
It’s evening in the Parthian Camp. It’s June 9th, 53 BC, and the Battle of Carrhae has just ended. Smoke rises from the burning town of Carrhae in the distance. Marcus Licinius Crassus, the richest man in Rome and one of the Triumvirate, lies dead upon the field, (minus his head, which has another story). This battle was perhaps the biggest defeat the Romans army will ever have. The victors do not yet appreciate the consequences of this catastrophe for Rome as dinner is prepared.
The men tend to their horses, brushing with the curry combs. Horses are still out of breath, breathing heavily, stamping the feet, and the men talk excitedly to each other, despite their exhaustion. Children squat upon the ground, sorting their fathers’ arrows, ensuring the bone arrowheads are tightly bound, and the feathers intact. The women crouch over the fire, shepherding the sizzling meat, cooking the food prepared below…
The women have spent the day:
– preparing fatty lamb meat, such as belly meat; (the Asbaran, the commanding officers, get the better tasting male meat; general Surena will get leg, to which they will add additional fat, the tail fat, with its distinctive taste),
– other meat, such as the dead horses from the battle, will be used for the Roman captives – when they are fed tomorrow,
– meat and fat are mixed, the sinews and connective tissues removed,
– a Zirh knife minces thoroughly; ensuring that the meat is not crushed,
A Zirh knife
– a great deal of local red pepper is added, fresh for the officers’, (ensuring the excess water is wrung after this is minced, too). This pepper, (now called Turkish), is twice as hot as paprika, but only ¼ as hot as a jalapeño, and is much sweeter and smokier,
– a little salt is added, and the mixture is combined,
– (today, we chill for 15 minutes,)
– using wet hands, the women place the meat on metal skewers or well-soaked wooden skewers,
– on a very hot grill, chilis and tomatoes are roasted (Roman recipes in De re Coquinaria don’t mention tomatoes but these Parthians grow wild tomatoes on the lower slopes of Mt. Ararat, where they pick up a bitter aftertaste from the volcanic soil…),
– the meat is grilled at a medium heat, 6 to 8 minutes,
– it is served with finely chopped tomato, onion and parsley (the sight is a lovely one of mixed red, white and green), and then sprinkled heavily with crunchy sumac,
– the cooked meat is placed on warm unleavened bread, (cooked earlier in the day by the women while they listened to the wails of dying men, the echoing sounds of crashing hooves, groaning horses, metal beating upon metal….), and place the meat on it, with roasted veggies and salad around them….
An early colour photograph of Parthian kebabs (note the salt-tolerant (typical of the Annatolian steppe) halophytic and aromatic grass on the onions in the foreground).
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Contributed by
Nigel Scotchmer
