The Impossible Feast: An idea

My SCA persona's motto is AT SPES INFRACTA (Yet, hope is unbroken) and I have a thing for flying pigs and the idea of making the impossible possible. I was looking through Facebook memories this morning and in 2014 I had seen an advertisement for Pig Wings, ribs that look like chicken wings. Rather than saying cool and moving one, my response was to go through a list of idioms of improbability and assign them dishes. This type of hyperbole taken to extreme lengths is called an adynata from the Greek ἀδύνατον  meaning both unable/ impossible and "to be powerful." It was a common Classical Period rhetorical device translated into Latin as impossibilia.  It fits well with my ancient Greek name of Praxilla which gives me further reasons to adore the idea. It would even make a fabulous conceit for a sixteenth century Venetian salon. Thus, I'm putting it here so I don't lose it.

An impossible feast to be served with blue moon cocktails and presented on the Greek kalends (Kalends are Roman. . .).

When pigs fly: pork ribs shaped like wings, or bacon wrapped poultry

When it snows red snowflakes: Strawberries in snow would be a very historical option

When grapes/pears grow on the willow tree: Willow catkins can be mashed and eaten. Willow honey is a thing. Perhaps baked pears drizzled in willow honey? Grapes could also be iced and served in a willow basket. Or wine is always a possibility

When fish climb the poplar tree: Salmon smoked on poplar. Poplar is also a popular paper wood, so paperwrapped fish of some kind might be tasty.

When the moon turns to green cheese: Mmm, cheese wheel

If the sky falls we shall catch larks: Plenty of Roman lark recipes. Adapt to use chicken or game hen

When the calves are dancing on the ice: Perhaps some variant of steak tartare?

When cows fly: Should be as straightforward as the winged pigs

When salt glows: There are lots of lovely pink Himilayan salt lamps and plates. Something served on those.

Cold Hell: No idea what to make, but its a fabulous name for a dish


More idioms to play with:

When the cow goes on pilgrimage on its horns
when the flagpole blossoms
When the reed plant blossoms
When the apricot blooms
When poplars grow pears and willows wallflowers
When the crawfish whistles on the mountain and fish sing
A week with three Thursdays
When horses grow horns
When a horned cat walks by
When a beard grows in the palm of my hand
When frogs grow hair
When the owl's tail blooms
When the crow will fly upside down
Sooner the cactus grow on my palm

And just because it is so very, very specific to my persona and personal likes, this Bulgarian phrase has to be included:  koga se pokači svinja s z´´lti čehli na krusa (when the pig in yellow slippers climbs the pear tree

That was surprisingly easy

And there is the pear.  I'm afraid I didn't get crazy and carve a wood block and print it.  Just a pencil sketch I inked in and a bit of color.  Lace is leftover from my ruffs and the ribbon is the vintage silk one I'm using on the dress.  I had bigger more exciting plans for this, but then the boys shredded my painted filigree fan I made for the ACC earlier this week and I decided I didn't want to give them something I poured blood and sweat into to destroy.  As I posted last time, these were often sort of a disposable thing on occasion as opposed to the investment of a feather fan.

What I'm pretty thrilled by and want to brag about is my clever handle.  It is a cafe curtain rod I bought for under $3.  They slide into two pieces and each end has a finial.  There is also a slit where the metal is rolled.  I took out the bottom section of the rod and kept it for a second fan.  This one has a little ridge on the bottom of the rod that sort of finishes it off, but I will need to figure out something to finish the second one.  I could have just epoxied the second part of the rod into place and had finials on both ends, but I didn't want the weight.  I drew and painted my pear and poem on a thick piece of watercolor paper, glued on the lace, and then pulled off the finial and pried the opening of the curled metal open a bit and slid it into place.  Then I popped the finial back on, crimped the metal back closed with a pair of pliers, and ta-da. Instant and inexpensive handle.  At under $3 is was cheaper than a dowel and a couple of wood finials and I didn't have to paint it.  And this way, when my boys inevitably destroy it, I have an extra handle waiting and plenty of paper to draw something else.  You just have to love a project where the research and decision of what to do take three times as long as the execution.

A fan full of poetry

For whereas the fanne consisteth of a painted peece of paper and a little wooden handle; the paper which is fastened into the top is on both sides most curiously adorned with excellent pictures, either of amorous things tending to dalliance, having some witty Italian verses or fine emblemes written under them; or of some notable Italian city with a briefe description thereof added thereunto. These fannes are of a meane price. -Thomas Coryat: Coryat's Crudities (Observations of Cremona)


For my ventuolo (flag fan) I wanted to do something a bit different and a bit playful. I thought Aurora's idea last year to do hers with the lyrics to a song on the back was a really fun idea. I also was intrigued by Katerina's page with the pictures of rebus puzzles on fans from At Home in Renaissance Italy. I considered painting my heraldry or writing a sonnet, but they seemed too straightforward.

I finally settled for combining a reference to my name that isn't heraldic and some lines of poetry in a rather oblique way. Sort of like the imprese, it's a game with a layered reference. I'm the only one who gets the joke, but that's alright with me.


My persona's name (since I've just swapped personas to an Italian one) is Praxilla Taurinae.  The last name is the Italian version of "daughter of the bull," but the first name is that of a 5th century BC Greek poet. Praxilla of Sikyon was referred to as one of the "9 muses on earth" for her poetry. She had a type of dactylic meter names for her called the Praxilleion. She was known for writing skolia, a type of drinking song, as well as more extended mythological treatments.  There aren't many remaining fragments,only eight little samples, but her reputation for greatness remains.  The longest section of one of her poems is from a hymn to Adonis.

Most beautiful of things I leave is sunlight.

Then come shining stars and the moon’s face.

Then ripe cucumbers and apples and pears.

I decided to put this on my fan, along with a woodcut of a pear taken from Historia novi et admirabilis  by the Swiss botanist Johan Bauhin, published in 1598. There were over 200 varieties of pear in the 16th century with a surge of new types, and Bauhin includes 41 in his book.  Pears also happen to be my very favorite fruit. Sweet and subtle, yet difficult to find ripe and perfect. 

References
Anea's article on flag fans http://aneafiles.webs.com/flagfan.html
Bella's woven fan http://renaissanceitaly.net/mygarb/flagfan.htm
 The Woman and the Lyre: Women Writers in Classical Greece and Rome by Jane Macintosh Snyder