Sometimes recipe research looks like books and files, and sometimes it’s a random Monday in a Wallachian village.
Today I spent the day wandering through an 1800s open air village here in the eastern Czech Republic, learning about the Wallachian Moravian people, descendants of mountain sheep herders who migrated from Romania centuries ago and built a culture deeply tied to the mountains, livestock, and food traditions that still survive today.
I got to spend some time with the animals, learn a little blacksmithing, and dive headfirst into regional dishes that stretch back three centuries. I tried Halušky, soft potato noodles with cheese that feel like mountain comfort food at its best, and Frgál, traditional fruit pastries that somehow disappear faster than you expect. Days like this are a reminder that food history is rarely just about recipes. Its people, migration, work, landscapes, and traditions passed hand to hand over generations with still living examples.
Spent my morning here in the beautiful Czech town of Olomouc for the Military Historical Cuisine festival, going through 2,500 years of military food from the area. The festival covers the Ancient Celts and Romans, the WW1 era Austro-Hungarian empire, the Cold War era, and modern Czech military cuisine.
It was a fantastic day learning authentic recipes from the festival staff, and I have a ton of really cool content to share with you guys in terms of recipes from what I’ve learned.
Food history is such a power factor in uniting and bringing together a shared culture, and it was awesome seeing the hobby I love be shared by hundreds of families here in Olomouc, all equally fascinated by both the meals and the history. And thanks to everyone who knew my channel and said hi!
Plato drank it. Aristotle drank it. Cicero drank it. Marcus Aurelius drank it. Every single one of them came out of a ritual hall in ancient Greece describing a revelation that permanently changed how they understood life and death. Every single one of them kept their oath of secrecy and never told anyone what happened.
The Eleusinian Mysteries were the most important religious rites in the ancient world, held every autumn at a sanctuary twenty kilometres west of Athens for nearly two thousand years without interruption. Participation was open to any Greek speaker who had not committed murder, which meant slaves and nobles, men and women, Greeks from every city-state all participated together.
The only requirement was the oath of secrecy and the ritual preparation, which included nine days of fasting and a twenty kilometre procession by torchlight along the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis. At the end of all of that, in the great hall called the Telesterion, the initiates drank the kykeon. Barley, water and pennyroyal mint, documented in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter written in the late 7th century BC, where the goddess Demeter herself drinks it to break her fast. The initiates were ritually recreating that moment every year for two thousand years.
Nobody who attended ever said precisely what happened in that hall. The oath held across two millennia and hundreds of thousands of initiates including some of the most articulate writers in human history. What they did say is that they came out understanding something about death that the uninitiated did not, that they lost their fear of dying, that the experience was unlike anything available through normal means. In 1978 Albert Hofmann, the chemist who first synthesised LSD, published a book arguing that the barley was infected with ergot, a fungus containing compounds chemically related to LSD. The theory is contested. In the 2020s researchers found ergot residue in a ceremonial vessel at a sanctuary in Spain associated with similar rites. The debate continues.
I made the documented recipe. Toasted barley powder, water, honey, and fresh mint, substituting the pennyroyal for toxcity reasons. It tastes exactly like drinking minty oatmeal. I rated it 1.8 out of 10.
Whatever Plato experienced in that hall after nine days of fasting and a torchlit procession through the Greek night, I am confident it was not what I experienced in my kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon. The full history, all the primary sources, and the complete recipe are on the blog now. Link in bio.
I want to send you into the weekend with this authentic Mexican salsa recipe from El Cocinero Mexicano from 1831. A classic red salsa of roasted ripe tomatoes, green chiles, onion, a blend of spices, served alongside avocado and homemade tortilla chips.
For over a thousand years, the tsar and the serf, the priest and the soldier, the merchant and the farmer all drank the exact same thing every single day. It was made from stale bread, and it was genuinely refreshing.
Kvass is one of the oldest continuously documented beverages in the world, first recorded in 988 AD when the Russian Primary Chronicle documents Grand Prince Vladimir of Kiev distributing food, honey and kvass to the people of Kiev to celebrate the Christianisation of Kievan Rus. The word kvass derives from the Proto-Slavic root kvasiti, meaning to ferment, the same linguistic root that gives Russian the words for yeast and sourdough starter. It is not just a drink. It is the foundation of an entire fermentation culture that ran through every aspect of Slavic food production for over a millennium.
What makes kvass extraordinary as a food history story is not what it is but who drank it. Ivan the Terrible drank kvass. Peter the Great never stopped drinking it despite adopting virtually every other Western cultural practice. Leo Tolstoy served it to guests at his country estate. A serf in 1650 drank the same basic preparation from the same basic ingredients. The recipe did not change with the social status of the drinker. Almost no other food or drink in history has genuinely crossed every class boundary simultaneously for a thousand years. Kvass managed it because the ingredients were universal. Dark rye bread, water, a small amount of honey or sugar and a handful of raisins. Fermented for two to three days in a jar on the counter. No specialist equipment. No special knowledge. Just bread and time.
I made the traditional version this week and I was genuinely surprised by how refreshing it is. Malty, slightly sweet, lightly fizzy and when cold from the fridge on a warm day genuinely refreshing. The closest comparison is a non-alcoholic dark wheat beer with a more pronounced bread flavour and no bitterness. If you enjoy the taste of a malty beer but want something with almost no alcohol content, this may be exactly what you have been looking for. I rated it 7.1 out of 10.
Full history and the complete traditional recipe documented from Russian monastic records on the blog now. Link in bio.
On the evening of April 14, 1865, Abraham Lincoln ate this dinner at the White House with his wife Mary, read aloud from a humorous book until he was laughing too hard to stop, and then went to Ford's Theatre. He never came home.
The Civil War had effectively ended five days earlier when Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox. Lincoln was in better spirits than anyone around him had seen in years. The weight of four years and 620,000 American deaths had lifted enough that he could sit at the dinner table and laugh. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton had been begging Lincoln for weeks to cancel his public appearances on security grounds. Lincoln told him he had promised Mary they would go to the theatre and he did not like to disappoint her. He was shot at 10:15 PM during the third act of Our American Cousin. He died the following morning at 7:22 AM without regaining consciousness. Stanton stood at his bedside and said: now he belongs to the ages.
The meal Lincoln ate that evening is attributed by historians to roast Virginia fowl with chestnut stuffing, baked yams and cauliflower with cheese sauce. It is worth noting that this menu is considerably more elaborate than Lincoln's documented personal food habits would suggest. His private secretary John Hay wrote that Lincoln was one of the most abstemious of men and that the pleasures of the table had few attractions for him. His preferred food throughout his life was milk corn soup, gingerbread and simple frontier food from his Indiana childhood. He frequently forgot to eat entirely when absorbed in work and had to be reminded by his household staff. The formal dinner attributed to his final evening reads more like a standard White House menu than a meal Lincoln would have specifically requested for himself. He probably ate it with the same mild indifference he brought to most meals and then went back to reading from the humorous book that was making him laugh.
I made the chicken with chestnut stuffing, the baked yam and the cauliflower cheese this week. It is an 8.5 out of 10 and a genuinely excellent meal.
What stays with me is not the rating. It is the knowledge that a man in the best mood he had been in after four years of war sat down to this dinner hours before his death.
The full history and the complete recipe are on the blog now.
Humans have been making special food for their dogs for over two thousand years. And somehow we ended up here, a multi-billion dollar global industry that sells grain-free, breed-specific, age-appropriate, freeze-dried raw biscuits to animals who will also happily eat garbage off the sidewalk.
Dogs have been eating alongside humans since they were first domesticated somewhere between 15,000 and 40,000 years ago, and the archaeological record suggests we have been feeding them deliberately rather than just tolerantly for most of that time.
Ancient households fed their furry friends any leftover scraps from the meal. Medieval European dogs in wealthy households were fed a specific preparation called hound bread, a coarse loaf made from oat, bean and pea flour baked specifically for the kennels and documented in hunting manuals of the period. The concept of food made specifically for a dog is not a Victorian invention, it's as old as the relationship itself.
The modern dog treat industry starts on a dock in Liverpool in 1860. James Spratt, an electrician from Ohio who had come to England to sell lightning rods, watched sailors throwing leftover hardtack to the stray dogs on the waterfront and had an idea that would make him considerably more money than lightning rods ever had. He developed what he called Meat Fibrine Vegetable Dog Cakes, a biscuit of wheat, oatmeal, beetroot, vegetables and beef, patented the formula in 1861, and began marketing them aggressively to English country gentlemen with sporting dogs. They were expensive, roughly the equivalent of a day's wages for a skilled craftsman per bag, and they sold extremely well. A young travelling salesman named Charles Cruft was hired to promote Spratt's biscuits at dog shows in the 1870s. That same Charles Cruft went on to found the Crufts Dog Show in 1891, still the most prestigious dog competition in the world. The first dog biscuit and the most famous dog show in history share the same origin story.
Then in 1907, an MIT-trained organic chemist named Carleton Ellis was asked to find a use for waste milk from a slaughterhouse, mixed it with malt and grain, baked it into a round shape, and offered it to his dog. The dog refused to eat it. Ellis changed the shape to a bone, and finally the dog ate it. The Milk-Bone was born, Nabisco bought it in 1931, Rin Tin Tin advertised it on television after World War II, and the rest is the $136 billion global pet food industry that exists today.
I am making both recipes this week, the original 1860 Spratt's formula and the 1915 Milk-Bone, and I genuinely cannot decide which one is the better video, so I am doing both! The Spratt's biscuits are technically edible for humans and I will be tasting them on camera. The Milk-Bone I think I will leave to the experts.
These episodes are dedicated to Pudge, my childhood dog, who passed away a few weeks ago, and who I can say with complete confidence would have eaten both versions without hesitation and asked for more. Rest easy buddy.
The Native tribes of the American plains invented one of the most efficient survival foods in human history. Lewis and Clark themselves were eating it by 1805 on their expedition.
Pemmican is dried meat pounded into powder, combined with rendered fat in equal proportions by weight, and pressed into bars with dried berries. That is the entire recipe. Three ingredients. No refrigeration. No cooking required to eat it. A shelf life measured in months to years under the right conditions. One pound of pemmican delivers approximately 3,000 to 3,500 calories, a full day of sustenance for an active adult, in a package you can carry in your coat pocket.
The Cree, Lakota, Blackfoot and dozens of other Plains nations had been making it for generations before the fur trade era, and when European explorers and traders encountered it they immediately understood what they were looking at. The Hudson's Bay Company built an entire industrial supply chain around it. Robert Falcon Scott took it to Antarctica. Ernest Shackleton's men ate it on the ice after the Endurance was crushed.
William Clark wrote in his journal near what is now Great Falls Montana in 1805: the Hunters killed 3 buffaloe, the most of all the meat I had dried for to make Pemitigon. The spelling is characteristically Clark, creative and phonetic, but the reference is unambiguous. The Corps of Discovery made pemmican from bison on the trail and first encountered it as a prepared food at the formal feast hosted by the Lakota Sioux early in the journey.
The journals of Lewis and Clark, edited by Gary Moulton and published by the University of Nebraska Press, are the most thoroughly documented food record in American exploration history and pemmican appears in them as a staple of survival rather than a curiosity. These men were eating nine pounds of fresh meat per man per day on good days and boiling candles to eat on bad ones. When they made pemmican they were thinking about the bad days.
I made a small batch this week using bison jerky and dried blueberries, the closest accessible approximation of the Plains tribes' original preparation with saskatoon berries and bison. The one to one ratio of dried meat to rendered tallow feels extreme until you understand that the fat is not flavouring. It is the preservation mechanism. It is what coats every particle of powdered meat and seals it from air and moisture and makes the whole thing shelf stable without any other technology. The finished product is dense, slightly waxy, chewy, and genuinely challenging to eat for pleasure. The blueberries help.
I rated it 6.8 out of 10 as food and considerably higher as one of the most ingeniously engineered survival preparations in human history. Full story and full recipe on the blog now.
The Roman army spanned three continents and built an empire that shaped the entire Western world. They did it on porridge, biscuits, salt pork, and diluted vinegar.
I spent a full day eating exactly what a Roman legionary ate on campaign, reconstructed from Cato the Elder, Vegetius, archaeological evidence from Vindolanda and Masada, and the writings of Apicius. Not the stuffed dormice and garum-drenched banquets of the Roman elite. The actual food that fuelled the men who marched fifteen to twenty miles a day in full armour and built one of the most disciplined fighting forces in human history.
Breakfast was puls, the farro wheat porridge I have covered on this channel before, enriched with salted pork belly, garlic and garum and eaten alongside dried figs and a cup of posca, which is water mixed with vinegar and genuinely more drinkable than it sounds after physical exertion. Midday was buccellatum, the nearly indestructible hard tack bread that soldiers broke apart and softened in water, eaten with a chunk of pecorino romano. Nothing else. No fire required, no cooking, just enough calories to keep marching. Dinner was the highlight: a split pea soup with onions, garlic and garum, with pan fried salted pork belly on top, more buccellatum for dipping and a final cup of posca. After eating it after a full day on the Roman diet it was genuinely comforting in a way that surprised me.
The overall rating is a 7.8 out of 10, which is higher than I expected going in. The flavours are earthy and distinctive, the garum adds a depth that transforms even the simplest grain dish, and the pork belly does serious work at both breakfast and dinner.
The variety is low and the buccellatum is exactly as cheerless as you would expect. But the diet as a whole is coherent, deliberate and surprisingly effective. You can feel why it worked. Every bite reminds you that the Roman Empire was not built in a Senate chamber. It was built by men eating porridge from a camp pot at dawn. Full day of recipes and the full history on the blog now.
One of Mexico's most beloved comfort foods began as a sacred Aztec ritual dish. The reason it contains pork today is one of the most "interesting" food history substitutions I think I've ever come across.
The earliest written references to pozole appear in the Florentine Codex, the 16th century ethnographic record compiled by Franciscan friar Bernardino de Sahagún from the testimony of Indigenous Nahua elders. The dish was made from nixtamalized maize, the hominy that still defines it today, and was prepared for specific religious ceremonies tied to the Aztec worldview of reciprocity between gods and humans. According to Aztec creation mythology, humans were formed from maize dough, making corn both literal and symbolic life. The word pozole itself likely derives from the Nahuatl pozolli, meaning foamy, a reference to the way hominy blooms and opens as it cooks.
When the Spanish arrived in the early 16th century and suppressed Indigenous ritual practices, the ceremonial version could no longer exist in its original form (which sometimes used meat from human sacrifices). Pork became the replacement protein, Spanish chronicles noting its textural similarity as justification. Onions, garlic, bay leaves, and Old World herbs arrived alongside it. What emerged from that collision of two culinary worlds is one of the earliest and most successful examples of mestizo cuisine in history.
Today, pozole is inseparable from Mexican celebrations, particularly Christmas and New Year's, when families simmer enormous pots of it for hours, the broth deepening in flavour as the guajillo and ancho chiles, corn, and slow-cooked pork become one unified thing.
I rated this traditional Pozole Rojo a 9.4 out of 10, and I stand by that completely. It is rich without being heavy, ancient and modern at the same time. The full history and the complete recipe are on the blog.
Eats History
Sometimes recipe research looks like books and files, and sometimes it’s a random Monday in a Wallachian village.
Today I spent the day wandering through an 1800s open air village here in the eastern Czech Republic, learning about the Wallachian Moravian people, descendants of mountain sheep herders who migrated from Romania centuries ago and built a culture deeply tied to the mountains, livestock, and food traditions that still survive today.
I got to spend some time with the animals, learn a little blacksmithing, and dive headfirst into regional dishes that stretch back three centuries. I tried Halušky, soft potato noodles with cheese that feel like mountain comfort food at its best, and Frgál, traditional fruit pastries that somehow disappear faster than you expect.
Days like this are a reminder that food history is rarely just about recipes. Its people, migration, work, landscapes, and traditions passed hand to hand over generations with still living examples.
Not a bad way to spend a Monday.
-Donnie
eatshistory.com
2 days ago | [YT] | 1,742
View 32 replies
Eats History
Spent my morning here in the beautiful Czech town of Olomouc for the Military Historical Cuisine festival, going through 2,500 years of military food from the area.
The festival covers the Ancient Celts and Romans, the WW1 era Austro-Hungarian empire, the Cold War era, and modern Czech military cuisine.
It was a fantastic day learning authentic recipes from the festival staff, and I have a ton of really cool content to share with you guys in terms of recipes from what I’ve learned.
Food history is such a power factor in uniting and bringing together a shared culture, and it was awesome seeing the hobby I love be shared by hundreds of families here in Olomouc, all equally fascinated by both the meals and the history. And thanks to everyone who knew my channel and said hi!
A pro Čechy, jste nejlepší! 🙂
-Donnie
4 days ago | [YT] | 2,803
View 60 replies
Eats History
Plato drank it. Aristotle drank it. Cicero drank it. Marcus Aurelius drank it. Every single one of them came out of a ritual hall in ancient Greece describing a revelation that permanently changed how they understood life and death. Every single one of them kept their oath of secrecy and never told anyone what happened.
The Eleusinian Mysteries were the most important religious rites in the ancient world, held every autumn at a sanctuary twenty kilometres west of Athens for nearly two thousand years without interruption. Participation was open to any Greek speaker who had not committed murder, which meant slaves and nobles, men and women, Greeks from every city-state all participated together.
The only requirement was the oath of secrecy and the ritual preparation, which included nine days of fasting and a twenty kilometre procession by torchlight along the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis. At the end of all of that, in the great hall called the Telesterion, the initiates drank the kykeon. Barley, water and pennyroyal mint, documented in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter written in the late 7th century BC, where the goddess Demeter herself drinks it to break her fast. The initiates were ritually recreating that moment every year for two thousand years.
Nobody who attended ever said precisely what happened in that hall. The oath held across two millennia and hundreds of thousands of initiates including some of the most articulate writers in human history. What they did say is that they came out understanding something about death that the uninitiated did not, that they lost their fear of dying, that the experience was unlike anything available through normal means. In 1978 Albert Hofmann, the chemist who first synthesised LSD, published a book arguing that the barley was infected with ergot, a fungus containing compounds chemically related to LSD. The theory is contested. In the 2020s researchers found ergot residue in a ceremonial vessel at a sanctuary in Spain associated with similar rites. The debate continues.
I made the documented recipe. Toasted barley powder, water, honey, and fresh mint, substituting the pennyroyal for toxcity reasons. It tastes exactly like drinking minty oatmeal. I rated it 1.8 out of 10.
Whatever Plato experienced in that hall after nine days of fasting and a torchlit procession through the Greek night, I am confident it was not what I experienced in my kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon. The full history, all the primary sources, and the complete recipe are on the blog now. Link in bio.
eatshistory.com/ancient-greek-kykeon-recipe-the...…
1 week ago | [YT] | 2,531
View 136 replies
Eats History
Happy Friday, how about some salsa?
I want to send you into the weekend with this authentic Mexican salsa recipe from El Cocinero Mexicano from 1831. A classic red salsa of roasted ripe tomatoes, green chiles, onion, a blend of spices, served alongside avocado and homemade tortilla chips.
Full Recipe: eatshistory.com/authentic-mexican-salsa-recipe.../
Enjoy and have a great weekend!
-Donnie
1 week ago | [YT] | 968
View 14 replies
Eats History
For over a thousand years, the tsar and the serf, the priest and the soldier, the merchant and the farmer all drank the exact same thing every single day. It was made from stale bread, and it was genuinely refreshing.
Kvass is one of the oldest continuously documented beverages in the world, first recorded in 988 AD when the Russian Primary Chronicle documents Grand Prince Vladimir of Kiev distributing food, honey and kvass to the people of Kiev to celebrate the Christianisation of Kievan Rus. The word kvass derives from the Proto-Slavic root kvasiti, meaning to ferment, the same linguistic root that gives Russian the words for yeast and sourdough starter. It is not just a drink. It is the foundation of an entire fermentation culture that ran through every aspect of Slavic food production for over a millennium.
What makes kvass extraordinary as a food history story is not what it is but who drank it. Ivan the Terrible drank kvass. Peter the Great never stopped drinking it despite adopting virtually every other Western cultural practice. Leo Tolstoy served it to guests at his country estate. A serf in 1650 drank the same basic preparation from the same basic ingredients. The recipe did not change with the social status of the drinker. Almost no other food or drink in history has genuinely crossed every class boundary simultaneously for a thousand years. Kvass managed it because the ingredients were universal. Dark rye bread, water, a small amount of honey or sugar and a handful of raisins. Fermented for two to three days in a jar on the counter. No specialist equipment. No special knowledge. Just bread and time.
I made the traditional version this week and I was genuinely surprised by how refreshing it is. Malty, slightly sweet, lightly fizzy and when cold from the fridge on a warm day genuinely refreshing. The closest comparison is a non-alcoholic dark wheat beer with a more pronounced bread flavour and no bitterness. If you enjoy the taste of a malty beer but want something with almost no alcohol content, this may be exactly what you have been looking for. I rated it 7.1 out of 10.
Full history and the complete traditional recipe documented from Russian monastic records on the blog now. Link in bio.
eatshistory.com/kvass-recipe-how-to-make-the.../
Would you try this Slavic fermented bread drink?
1 week ago | [YT] | 1,083
View 52 replies
Eats History
On the evening of April 14, 1865, Abraham Lincoln ate this dinner at the White House with his wife Mary, read aloud from a humorous book until he was laughing too hard to stop, and then went to Ford's Theatre. He never came home.
The Civil War had effectively ended five days earlier when Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox. Lincoln was in better spirits than anyone around him had seen in years. The weight of four years and 620,000 American deaths had lifted enough that he could sit at the dinner table and laugh. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton had been begging Lincoln for weeks to cancel his public appearances on security grounds. Lincoln told him he had promised Mary they would go to the theatre and he did not like to disappoint her. He was shot at 10:15 PM during the third act of Our American Cousin. He died the following morning at 7:22 AM without regaining consciousness. Stanton stood at his bedside and said: now he belongs to the ages.
The meal Lincoln ate that evening is attributed by historians to roast Virginia fowl with chestnut stuffing, baked yams and cauliflower with cheese sauce. It is worth noting that this menu is considerably more elaborate than Lincoln's documented personal food habits would suggest. His private secretary John Hay wrote that Lincoln was one of the most abstemious of men and that the pleasures of the table had few attractions for him. His preferred food throughout his life was milk corn soup, gingerbread and simple frontier food from his Indiana childhood. He frequently forgot to eat entirely when absorbed in work and had to be reminded by his household staff. The formal dinner attributed to his final evening reads more like a standard White House menu than a meal Lincoln would have specifically requested for himself. He probably ate it with the same mild indifference he brought to most meals and then went back to reading from the humorous book that was making him laugh.
I made the chicken with chestnut stuffing, the baked yam and the cauliflower cheese this week. It is an 8.5 out of 10 and a genuinely excellent meal.
What stays with me is not the rating. It is the knowledge that a man in the best mood he had been in after four years of war sat down to this dinner hours before his death.
The full history and the complete recipe are on the blog now.
eatshistory.com/abraham-lincolns-last-meal/
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 2,007
View 95 replies
Eats History
Humans have been making special food for their dogs for over two thousand years. And somehow we ended up here, a multi-billion dollar global industry that sells grain-free, breed-specific, age-appropriate, freeze-dried raw biscuits to animals who will also happily eat garbage off the sidewalk.
Dogs have been eating alongside humans since they were first domesticated somewhere between 15,000 and 40,000 years ago, and the archaeological record suggests we have been feeding them deliberately rather than just tolerantly for most of that time.
Ancient households fed their furry friends any leftover scraps from the meal. Medieval European dogs in wealthy households were fed a specific preparation called hound bread, a coarse loaf made from oat, bean and pea flour baked specifically for the kennels and documented in hunting manuals of the period. The concept of food made specifically for a dog is not a Victorian invention, it's as old as the relationship itself.
The modern dog treat industry starts on a dock in Liverpool in 1860. James Spratt, an electrician from Ohio who had come to England to sell lightning rods, watched sailors throwing leftover hardtack to the stray dogs on the waterfront and had an idea that would make him considerably more money than lightning rods ever had. He developed what he called Meat Fibrine Vegetable Dog Cakes, a biscuit of wheat, oatmeal, beetroot, vegetables and beef, patented the formula in 1861, and began marketing them aggressively to English country gentlemen with sporting dogs.
They were expensive, roughly the equivalent of a day's wages for a skilled craftsman per bag, and they sold extremely well. A young travelling salesman named Charles Cruft was hired to promote Spratt's biscuits at dog shows in the 1870s. That same Charles Cruft went on to found the Crufts Dog Show in 1891, still the most prestigious dog competition in the world. The first dog biscuit and the most famous dog show in history share the same origin story.
Then in 1907, an MIT-trained organic chemist named Carleton Ellis was asked to find a use for waste milk from a slaughterhouse, mixed it with malt and grain, baked it into a round shape, and offered it to his dog. The dog refused to eat it. Ellis changed the shape to a bone, and finally the dog ate it. The Milk-Bone was born, Nabisco bought it in 1931, Rin Tin Tin advertised it on television after World War II, and the rest is the $136 billion global pet food industry that exists today.
I am making both recipes this week, the original 1860 Spratt's formula and the 1915 Milk-Bone, and I genuinely cannot decide which one is the better video, so I am doing both! The Spratt's biscuits are technically edible for humans and I will be tasting them on camera. The Milk-Bone I think I will leave to the experts.
These episodes are dedicated to Pudge, my childhood dog, who passed away a few weeks ago, and who I can say with complete confidence would have eaten both versions without hesitation and asked for more. Rest easy buddy.
-Donnie
eatshistory.com
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 847
View 44 replies
Eats History
The Native tribes of the American plains invented one of the most efficient survival foods in human history. Lewis and Clark themselves were eating it by 1805 on their expedition.
Pemmican is dried meat pounded into powder, combined with rendered fat in equal proportions by weight, and pressed into bars with dried berries. That is the entire recipe. Three ingredients. No refrigeration. No cooking required to eat it. A shelf life measured in months to years under the right conditions. One pound of pemmican delivers approximately 3,000 to 3,500 calories, a full day of sustenance for an active adult, in a package you can carry in your coat pocket.
The Cree, Lakota, Blackfoot and dozens of other Plains nations had been making it for generations before the fur trade era, and when European explorers and traders encountered it they immediately understood what they were looking at. The Hudson's Bay Company built an entire industrial supply chain around it. Robert Falcon Scott took it to Antarctica. Ernest Shackleton's men ate it on the ice after the Endurance was crushed.
William Clark wrote in his journal near what is now Great Falls Montana in 1805: the Hunters killed 3 buffaloe, the most of all the meat I had dried for to make Pemitigon. The spelling is characteristically Clark, creative and phonetic, but the reference is unambiguous. The Corps of Discovery made pemmican from bison on the trail and first encountered it as a prepared food at the formal feast hosted by the Lakota Sioux early in the journey.
The journals of Lewis and Clark, edited by Gary Moulton and published by the University of Nebraska Press, are the most thoroughly documented food record in American exploration history and pemmican appears in them as a staple of survival rather than a curiosity. These men were eating nine pounds of fresh meat per man per day on good days and boiling candles to eat on bad ones. When they made pemmican they were thinking about the bad days.
I made a small batch this week using bison jerky and dried blueberries, the closest accessible approximation of the Plains tribes' original preparation with saskatoon berries and bison. The one to one ratio of dried meat to rendered tallow feels extreme until you understand that the fat is not flavouring. It is the preservation mechanism. It is what coats every particle of powdered meat and seals it from air and moisture and makes the whole thing shelf stable without any other technology. The finished product is dense, slightly waxy, chewy, and genuinely challenging to eat for pleasure. The blueberries help.
I rated it 6.8 out of 10 as food and considerably higher as one of the most ingeniously engineered survival preparations in human history. Full story and full recipe on the blog now.
eatshistory.com/bison-pemmican-recipe-the.../
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 2,400
View 81 replies
Eats History
The Roman army spanned three continents and built an empire that shaped the entire Western world. They did it on porridge, biscuits, salt pork, and diluted vinegar.
I spent a full day eating exactly what a Roman legionary ate on campaign, reconstructed from Cato the Elder, Vegetius, archaeological evidence from Vindolanda and Masada, and the writings of Apicius. Not the stuffed dormice and garum-drenched banquets of the Roman elite. The actual food that fuelled the men who marched fifteen to twenty miles a day in full armour and built one of the most disciplined fighting forces in human history.
Breakfast was puls, the farro wheat porridge I have covered on this channel before, enriched with salted pork belly, garlic and garum and eaten alongside dried figs and a cup of posca, which is water mixed with vinegar and genuinely more drinkable than it sounds after physical exertion. Midday was buccellatum, the nearly indestructible hard tack bread that soldiers broke apart and softened in water, eaten with a chunk of pecorino romano. Nothing else. No fire required, no cooking, just enough calories to keep marching. Dinner was the highlight: a split pea soup with onions, garlic and garum, with pan fried salted pork belly on top, more buccellatum for dipping and a final cup of posca. After eating it after a full day on the Roman diet it was genuinely comforting in a way that surprised me.
The overall rating is a 7.8 out of 10, which is higher than I expected going in. The flavours are earthy and distinctive, the garum adds a depth that transforms even the simplest grain dish, and the pork belly does serious work at both breakfast and dinner.
The variety is low and the buccellatum is exactly as cheerless as you would expect. But the diet as a whole is coherent, deliberate and surprisingly effective. You can feel why it worked. Every bite reminds you that the Roman Empire was not built in a Senate chamber. It was built by men eating porridge from a camp pot at dawn.
Full day of recipes and the full history on the blog now.
eatshistory.com/what-did-roman-soldiers-eat-a.../
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 1,265
View 19 replies
Eats History
One of Mexico's most beloved comfort foods began as a sacred Aztec ritual dish. The reason it contains pork today is one of the most "interesting" food history substitutions I think I've ever come across.
The earliest written references to pozole appear in the Florentine Codex, the 16th century ethnographic record compiled by Franciscan friar Bernardino de Sahagún from the testimony of Indigenous Nahua elders. The dish was made from nixtamalized maize, the hominy that still defines it today, and was prepared for specific religious ceremonies tied to the Aztec worldview of reciprocity between gods and humans. According to Aztec creation mythology, humans were formed from maize dough, making corn both literal and symbolic life. The word pozole itself likely derives from the Nahuatl pozolli, meaning foamy, a reference to the way hominy blooms and opens as it cooks.
When the Spanish arrived in the early 16th century and suppressed Indigenous ritual practices, the ceremonial version could no longer exist in its original form (which sometimes used meat from human sacrifices). Pork became the replacement protein, Spanish chronicles noting its textural similarity as justification. Onions, garlic, bay leaves, and Old World herbs arrived alongside it. What emerged from that collision of two culinary worlds is one of the earliest and most successful examples of mestizo cuisine in history.
Today, pozole is inseparable from Mexican celebrations, particularly Christmas and New Year's, when families simmer enormous pots of it for hours, the broth deepening in flavour as the guajillo and ancho chiles, corn, and slow-cooked pork become one unified thing.
I rated this traditional Pozole Rojo a 9.4 out of 10, and I stand by that completely. It is rich without being heavy, ancient and modern at the same time.
The full history and the complete recipe are on the blog.
eatshistory.com/authentic-pozole-recipe-from.../
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 1,547
View 187 replies
Load more