Roman Cabbage Recipes from Cato the Elder's De Agri Cultura
Marcus Porcius Cato, the Roman statesman known to history as Cato the Elder, compiled his treatise De Agri Cultura around 160 BCE. Within its pages lies one of the earliest and most detailed collections of Roman recipes to survive from antiquity. Cabbage, called brassica by the Romans, receives more attention than any other vegetable in the work. Cato devoted several chapters to its preparation, his belief in its medicinal power, and the specific sauces he considered appropriate for serving it.
The recipes that survive in De Agri Cultura offer modern cooks a rare window into the everyday flavours of the Roman kitchen. They describe quantities, herbs, and techniques with a directness that feels surprisingly modern. For Australian readers interested in Mediterranean food traditions, these ancient cabbage dishes connect directly to the culinary heritage still celebrated in coastal cities from Sydney to Perth, where Italian and Greek migration has kept such vegetables at the centre of family meals.
This article walks through Cato's cabbage recipes in order, explains the herbs he relied on, and considers how modern Australian kitchens can recreate the dishes. A brief comparison gathers the recipes side by side, and a closing note offers a starting point for those who want to dig deeper into the Roman pantry.
Cato's view of cabbage as the king of vegetables
Cato opens his discussion of brassica by declaring it the finest of all vegetables. He describes it as capable of healing wounds, settling the stomach, and restoring appetite after illness. The Romans of his era grew several varieties, including a curly-leaved type and a smoother, rounder form, and they ate it raw, cooked, or pickled. Cato himself recommends eating raw cabbage dressed with vinegar before a large meal, a practice he claims prevents intoxication.
His enthusiasm is partly nutritional and partly cultural. Roman armies marched with cabbage because it travelled well and could be eaten raw on campaign. For readers in Australia today, this advice translates well to the cool-season gardens of Melbourne and the Adelaide Hills, where savoy and wombok cabbages thrive during the southern winter. Cato's recipes are written in a brisk style that suggests they were meant for working households rather than grand banquets.
The basic preparation: olive oil, vinegar, and garum
The simplest of Cato's cabbage recipes, found in chapter 156, calls for the leaves to be torn and dressed with olive oil, vinegar, a touch of salt, and a generous amount of garum, the fermented fish sauce that seasoned nearly every Roman dish. Pepper is sprinkled on top. The whole preparation takes less than fifteen minutes and produces a sharp, savoury salad that sits comfortably beside grilled meats or flatbreads.
The vinegar Cato used would have been a fermented wine vinegar, often sharper and more aromatic than modern commercial products. Australian cooks can approximate the flavour with red wine vinegar from a producer such as those found at the Queen Victoria Market in Melbourne, where small-batch vinegars sit alongside imported olive oils and salted capers. The garum, however, is harder to source. Some specialty importers stock colatura di alici from southern Italy, widely accepted as the closest surviving relative of Roman garum.
If you want to make the dish at home, tear two cups of fresh cabbage leaves into bite-sized pieces. Dress them with three tablespoons of olive oil, two tablespoons of red wine vinegar, a teaspoon of colatura or modern fish sauce, and a pinch of cracked black pepper. Toss well and serve at room temperature, exactly as Cato instructs.
The herbed version with cumin, rue, and coriander
A more complex cabbage recipe appears in chapter 157. Here Cato combines cumin, fresh mint, rue, coriander, and the green stalks of fennel or leek. The herbs are chopped finely, mixed with vinegar and a little honey, and used to dress the wilted cabbage. The result is a fragrant, slightly bitter salad that balances the sweet notes of honey against the pungent sharpness of rue.
Rue, in particular, gives this dish its distinctly Roman character. The herb has a bitter, almost medicinal flavour that modern palates often find surprising. Australians who grow their own herbs will recognise rue as a hardy shrub that thrives in temperate gardens from Tasmania to the Southern Highlands of New South Wales. It should be used sparingly, as Cato himself warns that too much will overpower the dish.
To recreate the recipe, blanch a small head of cabbage briefly in salted water, drain it, and chop it coarsely. Mix a teaspoon of toasted cumin, a tablespoon each of chopped mint and coriander, half a teaspoon of chopped rue, and some sliced fennel greens. Combine these with three tablespoons of olive oil, two of vinegar, a teaspoon of honey, and a teaspoon of fish sauce. Pour the dressing over the warm cabbage and let it rest for half an hour before serving.
Medicinal claims and ancient beliefs about brassica
Cato's cabbage recipes cannot be separated from his medical beliefs. Throughout De Agri Cultura, he describes cabbage as a cure for headaches, indigestion, and depression. He claims bruised cabbage leaves, applied as a poultice, heal wounds.
Modern readers may treat these claims with scepticism, but recent nutritional research suggests that cabbage really does contain compounds that benefit digestion and inflammation. Australian dietitians based in Brisbane and Sydney have written about brassicas as part of the Mediterranean diet pattern, and clinical studies at the University of Melbourne have examined glucosinolates in cruciferous vegetables. Cato's intuition, it turns out, was not entirely wrong.
The recipes functioned as both food and medicine, relied upon because cabbage was cheap, available year-round, and believed to keep the family healthy.
Sourcing ingredients in Australia
Recreating Cato's recipes in Australia is easier than it once was. Cabbage of every kind is available year-round in greengrocers and supermarkets, and heritage varieties such as savoy and pointed Hispi cabbages are increasingly common at farmers' markets. The Adelaide Central Market, the Sydney Farmers' Market at Eveleigh, and seasonal stalls in Hobart all carry quality brassicas during the cooler months.
Olive oil, wine vinegar, and pepper are pantry staples across the country. Cumin, coriander, mint, and fennel grow well in home gardens, and even rue can be found in herb nurseries in the cooler regions. The hardest ingredients to source are colatura di alici and good garum. Specialty importers in Sydney's Paddington and Melbourne's Carlton stock both, and a small amount of modern Asian fish sauce can stand in if nothing else is available.
For readers who would like a deeper look at one of the more unusual Roman condiments, the asafoetida guide explains how this resin replaced silphium in Roman kitchens.
A comparison of Cato's cabbage methods
The recipes share a common foundation but differ in their complexity and purpose. The differences lie in the condiments and the intensity of treatment, summarised in the table below for quick reference.
| Recipe source | Main ingredients | Cooking method | Flavour profile | Notable purpose |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Cato 156 | Cabbage, olive oil, vinegar, garum, pepper | Raw, torn, dressed | Sharp, savoury, clean | Light salad, pre-meal appetiser |
| Cato 157 | Cabbage, cumin, mint, rue, coriander, fennel, honey, vinegar | Blanched, warm dressed | Herbaceous, bittersweet, aromatic | Restorative dish, settles stomach |
| Cato 122 | Cabbage, vinegar, brine | Pickled in jars | Tangy, salty, preserved | Long storage, daily condiment |
| Cato 74 variant | Cabbage, oil, cumin, rue, coriander | Wilted over fire | Earthy, smoked, herbal | Strong restorative preparation |
Modern cooks can taste the dressings as they go and adjust with capers, anchovies, or lemon juice without departing from Cato's spirit.
Beyond Cato: silphium, asafoetida, and the Roman spice trade
Cato wrote his recipes at a moment when the Roman kitchen still had access to silphium, a now-extinct North African plant prized above all other seasonings. By the time of the Roman Empire's height, silphium had vanished, and cooks relied on substitutes such as asafoetida, a pungent resin that travelled along the spice routes from Persia and India.
Cato's recipes do not call for silphium directly, but the bitter, resinous notes of his herb sauces hint at flavours that Roman diners expected. Modern cooks experimenting with Cato's cabbage dishes may want to add a tiny pinch of asafoetida to the dressing, dissolved first in a little warm oil. The result approximates the lost flavour of silphium and connects today's kitchen to the trade networks that once carried spices from the Mediterranean to the Indus.
The Roman spice trade also brought pepper, cumin, and coriander into Italian kitchens. Australian readers will recognise this same Mediterranean pantry in the spice blends sold at Melbourne's Lygon Street and Sydney's Spice Alley in Chippendale. The continuity of flavour across two thousand years is one of the most satisfying discoveries awaiting anyone who tries Cato's recipes at home. Readers with questions about sourcing unusual Roman ingredients can also reach out through the site contacts page.
For readers curious about the research behind these recipes, the own page describes how the project began. Generoso and collaborators respond to messages about historical cuisine and experimental recipes, and welcome suggestions for further ancient dishes to explore.
