That's A Moray Monday: The De gustibus non est disputandum Edition

When you spend more than a year writing a recurring online blog feature dedicated to moray eels, you've got to expect eventually finding other moray fans. In my case, I've been lucky to have readers who send me photos of moray eels they've seen while traveling. But perhaps not the kind of photos you might initially expect.

For instance, here are a few images of moray eels spotted by one reader on a trip to Cebu, Philippines:



Then there's this shot from Manila, Philippines:


Another reader sent this image from Senegal:


And finally this image sent in by a visitor to Portugal:


That's right, one man's Moray Monday is another man's Monday moray dinner.

In many places where moray's occur, moray flesh is not consumed due to the potential hazard of ciguatera poisoning. Ciguatoxin is commonly found concentrated in the muscle tissue of predator species near the top of the food chain in tropical waters, such as barracudas, snapper, moray eels, parrotfishes, groupers, triggerfishes and amberjacks. Symptoms of ciguatera poisoning involve gastrointestinal symptoms including nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea usually followed by neurological symptoms such as headaches, muscle aches, tingling extremities, numbness, disorientation, and hallucinations. Severe cases of ciguatera can also result in cold allodynia, which is a burning sensation on contact with cold (commonly incorrectly referred to as reversal of hot/cold temperature sensation).

As you might expect, run-ins with ciguatera poisoning are generally avoided by limiting or eliminating certain high trophic level tropical fish from your diet. Easier said than done in tropical destinations where protein is already scarce. Fortunately, local communities have learned through experience the seasons of the year when ciguatera threats are more likely for certain species of fish.

But all the images of morays in fish markets around the world got me wondering: When and how did moray eels first appear on the menu? Was it an utter act of desperation, grinding hunger, or a dare that resulted in that first moray meal? How far back does the recorded history of moray eel cuisine stretch? Surprisingly, quite far.

I've been recently enjoying a fascinating book, Around the Roman Table: Food and Feasting in Ancient Rome, by Patrick Faas and translated by Shaun Whiteside. If you're a foodie with an interest in history, this is a must read. It's part sweeping historical narrative, mixed liberally with ancient Roman recipes. Though I suspect you may have some difficulty shopping for some of the ingredients (anyone know if Trader Joe's sells unfiltered vinegar from the vineyards of Gaul?)

Despite the somewhat challenging shopping list, Around the Roman Table provides a literary freak show of some extreme eating throughout the Roman Empire. And apparently, moray eels were good eats.

In his Naturalis Historia written circa AD 77, Roman author and naturalist Pliny the Elder recorded some of the first culinary experiments with moray eels,

"The first to develop a special pond for the moray was Gaius Hirrius, who supplied six thousand morays for Caesar's banquets.

This was the beginning of our love for this unique fish. In Baculo, the orator Hortensius had a pond containing a moray which he loved to much that he is said to have wept when the animal passed away. On the same farm, Antonia, the wife of Drusus, decorated her favorite moray with ear-rings. The creature was so famous that people flocked to Baculo just to see it."

Pliny also documents that Vitellius, a Roman Emperor who reigned from 2 January 69 to 22 December of the same year, once ate a dish of parrot livers, peacock brains, flamingo tongues and the spleens of moray eels. It seems this sort of exotica was more the luxury of patrician classes (think of it as Roman caviar, though I'm sure they quaffed buckets of caviar too.) But typical Roman citizen meals were a bit more rustic.

In Ilaria Gozzini Giacosa's A Taste of Ancient Rome, the author provides examples of more vulgar fare:

Moray Eel with Vinegar Sauce
2 lbs moray eel, cleaned and sliced
1 tsp honey
2 Tbs. vinegar
1 Tbs. wine
2 Tbs. garum
1 Tbs. olive oil
2 Tbs. pepper and mixed aromatic herbs
1 tsp. wheat flour

The eel may be fried, but as it is a rather oily fish you may prefer to roast it in a hot oven. Mix remaining ingredients and serve with eel.

Garum, a very popular pungent Roman fish sauce used as a condiment, may have also benefited from moray in some preparations. The Romans fermented a fatty fish (typically anchovies though moray is mentioned in some sources) in brine and added other flavorings to make the garum. Before you turn your nose up in disgust, what exactly do you think is in that bottle of Worcestershire sauce you shake into a Bloody Mary or on a rare steak? Roman fish sauce is not as odd as it sounds.

Perhaps you're looking for a more delicate and complex sauce than garum to serve over freshly roasted moray? Then check out Empire of Pleasures: Luxury and Indulgence in the Roman World by Andrew Dalby. Dalby has uncovered "the perfect sauce for moray eel" as first documented in Satires II by Horace c. 30 BC,

his mixtum ius est: oleo, quod prima Venafri
pressit cella; garo de sucis piscis Hiberi;
vino quinquenni, verum citra mare nato,
dum coquitur (cocto Chium sic convenit, ut non
hoc magis ullum aliud); pipere albo, non sine aceto,
quod Methymnaeam vitio mutaverit uvam.
erucas viridis, inulas ego primus amaras
monstravi incoquere. inlutos Curtillus echinos,
ut melius muria quod testa marina remittat.

Translated by Dalby as,

This is my sauce for moray: Venafran oil of the first pressing; Spanish fish sauce; five year old Italian wine to be added during the cooking (if adding after, Chian will do better than any other), white pepper, and vinegar from the vineyards of Methymna. My own innovation is to add green rocket and bitter elecampane. Curtillus uses sea-urchins, not cleaned, because their own liquor is better than any brine.

Lest you think moray meals waned with the fall of the Roman Empire, think again.

Some sources indicate that King Henry I of England (1068-1135) allegedly died in Normandy after eating moray eel. Other sources say that he succumbed after eating "a surfeit of lampreys" (of which he was excessively fond). I'm willing to believe both taxa are plausible last meals given their range.

According to Mellita Adamson in Food in Medieval Times, Moray eels appear once again in the 15th century writings of Catalan-cuisine trained cook Mestre Robert, also known as Rupert de Nola. Little is known about this character, but he is famous for his "Libre del Coche," a Mediterranean cookbook combining Catalan, Italian, French, and Arab influences.

Inside, we find recipes (translated by Lady Brighid ni Chiarain) that would make Ferran Adrià look like a dilettante:

MORENA EN PAN (Moray eel in crust)
If the moray eel should be alive, take care that it does not bite you because its bite is poisonous; and it being alive, flog it well, because the fish bones all descend to the tail; and then scald it just like the conger eel, neither more nor less; and then wash it well with cold water and cut it into pieces; and take your spices: ginger, a little galingale, and salt, and all this should be well-ground and cast upon the cut-up moray; and make the empanadas; and cast a little oil inside and cover them, and let them go to cook in the oven. And being cooked, cast on a little orange juice.

MORENA EN CAZUELA (Moray eel in casserole)
Prepare the moray eel just like the conger eel; and cut it into pieces; and cut off the tail, because the fish bones always descend to the tail; and then take the spices which are necessary, and all the good herbs finely shredded or cut, and salt, and almonds, and raisins, and pine nuts; and let all this go into the casserole with a little oil; and the almonds should be scalded; and let it go to the oven to cook.

MORENA EN PARRILLAS (Moray eel on the grill)
Scald the moray eel just like the conger eel; and if it is alive, flog it vigorously because all the fish bones will descend to the tail; and if you want to fool your companion, give him the tail to eat; and then remove the head, and cut it into pieces as large as a palm; and then grease the grill with oil. And set the moray to roast; and frequently grease it well with oil. And there are also many who grease it with garlic and oil. But each one cooks it according to his appetite. Because there are many lords who do not eat garlic and oil, and others who do eat it. And returning to the topic of making the thin sauce which is customarily made for roasted foods, which is orange juice, and ginger, and oil, and a little water. And put all this into a little pot with salt, and all the good herbs cut small; and when they want to eat, put the food on the plate; and cast your sauce on top.

They just don't write cookbooks like this anymore!

Which brings us back to the present and full circle as morays appear in local fish markets worldwide. Much favored and sought after through the ages by princes and peasants alike. Call me moray obsessive. Call me an admirer of odd culinary history. Just don't call me late for dinner!

Pass the garum!