Praecocia

Praecocia! cried Pliny the Elder, spying several bowls of freshly picked apricots in the kitchen this morning.

What do you mean, praecocia? I asked. These are apricots.

Yes, yes, he said, but it was I who gave them the name praecocia, from which the word apricot derives. Praecocia, the Asiatic peach that ripens early, in summer. What a lot you have.

I know, I said. I am thinking of making Praecocia Jam, or maybe my favourite Praecocia Preserves, made with lemon juice and a few poisonous praecocia pits to add an intriguing taste of almonds.

Very good, said Pliny. Or you might like to try a favourite recipe of mine, well, of my friend Apicius, actually, whereby you cook the praecocia in honey, raisin wine and vinegar, and then , before thickening, add some pepper, mint and a little liquamen.

Liquamen? What's that again? I asked.

It's another name for garum, or fish sauce, he replied.

Pliny, I said, how about you make that, and I'll make the preserves? Meanwhile, would you like to eat a few fresh ones for breakfast?

No thankyou, that would doubtless upset my digestive system, said he.