'Poky pigges and stynkynge makerels': Food standards and urban health in medieval England

• The owner of a filthy bakery in Norwich has been fined after inspectors discovered mouse droppings, out of date meat, and grime caked on to the floors inside.
• Loose rodent bait was found in the flour store, mould was seen growing on the ceiling, and a hole in the roof had been given a 'bodge job' repair - with a bucket used to catch the drips

Daily Mail 5/2/15

I wouldn't normally start a post with a quote from the Daily Mail but it illustrates Professor Carole Rawcliffe's seminar on food standards and urban health in medieval England very well. Not only that but much of her archival research is Norfolk based so there is contiguity. There is a misconception that medieval cooks and food-sellers smothered their food with spices to disguise the taste of rotten meat or fish; Carole dismissed this out of hand. She was also scathing of the 1930s' William Edward Mead who said;

The helplessness of our ancestors in the presence of diseases now almost entirely extirpated in civilised communities by means of intelligence sanitation is indeed one of the most striking differences between mediaeval times and our own 

As she went on to explain, not only were there rules and regulations governing the cleanliness and freshness of food markets, but laws regarding weight and measures, all of which were enforced locally and efficiently. Punishments for selling bad meat or bread were extremely harsh - for reasons that I shall come on to. Not only that but designs for market locations and buildings were carefully considered so that they could be as hygienic as possible. Taken as a whole, and combined with the delightful modern bakery mentioned above, Mead's quote can be dispatched to historic oblivion.

Pestles and Mortalities: Pompeii and Herculaneum at the British Musem

This post came to me in the aftermath of a host of sensory experiences; the scent of fresh garlicky flavours being pounded out by a granite pestle and mortar, whilst the images of an emotionally exhausting exhibition were still pricking at my eyelids. Though these two seem far apart the connections, inevitably, were there.

The Pompeii exhibition at the British Museum has taken Roman everyday life and made it seem as fresh and modern as if they were walking down the streets now, today, tomorrow. After the pomp and splendour of Hadrian, here the curators have instead focused on living arrangements, family life, relaxation, domestic objects and simply allow us explore what it was like to live in a provincial Roman town. What comes across primarily is the sheer sense of fun and humour; the phallic lamps and good luck charms, playful graffiti and garden ornaments. They are, to modern minds, as unsubtle as they are beautifully crafted.