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Still life with eggs, mid-first century CE, from the house of Julia Felix in Pompeii. Photo by Yann Forget via wikimedia commons.

Still life with eggs, mid-first century CE, from the house of Julia Felix in Pompeii. Photo by Yann Forget via wikimedia commons.

Eggs and Invisible Ink

Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin
April 02, 2021 by Sean Coughlin in Ancient Medicine, Philosophy

How did Giambattista della Porta end up being associated with an ancient way of hiding secret messages inside of boiled eggs?

I recently stumbled across a trick for hiding secret messages inside of eggs. It’s in the 10th-century compendium known as the Geoponica or Farm Work:

“To make inscriptions on eggs. From Africanus. Grind up oak gall and alum with vinegar until it reaches the thickness of black ink. Use it to write whatever you want on the egg. Once the writing has dried in the sun, place the egg into a sharp brine. Once it has dried, boil it, and when you have peeled it, you will find the inscription.”

Ὠὰ κατάγραπτα ποιῆσαι. Ἀφρικανοῦ. Κικίδος καὶ στυπτηρίας μετὰ ὄξους τρίψας, ἕως γένηται πάχος μέλανος, ἐπίγραψον ἐξ αὐτοῦ ὃ θέλεις τῷ ὠῷ, καὶ ψυγείσης τῆς γραφῆς ἐν ἡλίῳ κατάθες τὸ ὠὸν εἰς ἅλμην δριμεῖαν, καὶ ψύξας ἕψησον, καὶ λεπίσας εὑρήσεις τὴν ἐπιγραφήν.

Geoponica 14.10 (roughly 10th century, originally 3rd century CE)

The compiler of the Geoponica attributes the recipe to someone named Africanus. Scholars typically identify him with Julius Africanus, a Libyan philosopher of the second and third century CE. Africanus was a Christian (before it was popular), spent time in and around Judaea and Rome, exchanged letters with Origen, and wrote a book called Kestoi—an encyclopedic mix of rhetoric, natural philosophy and what he called ‘forbidden investigations’ (ἱστορίαι ἀπόρρητοι).

From the Kestoi (if that’s where it originally was) the recipe would have found its way into a country-knowledge Compendium of Farming Practices (Συναγωγὴ γεωργικῶν ἐπιτηδευμάτων) by Vindonius Anatolius sometime in the 4th century CE; and from there into a 6th-century work called Selections on Farming (περὶ γεωργίας ἐκλογαί) compiled by Cassianus Bassus, now lost, but which was a major source for the Geoponica. That’s the standard story anyway.

But if you try to find anything about Africanus’ recipe on the internet, you’ll notice three things: first, no one can get it to work; second; it’s nearly always missing one of its ingredients, namely oak gall; and third, it’s never attributed to Africanus, but to Giambattista della Porta, the 16th century Italian polymath and author of the Magia Naturalis or Natural Magic.

The story associating della Porta with the recipe usually goes something like this: Giambattista della Porta (or Giovanni Porta in some versions) and his friends were having trouble with the Church and they needed a way to get messages to those of them imprisoned by the Inquisition. To do this, della Porta invented a technique for writing messages where no one would ever expect: on the inside of hardboiled eggs. Here are a few re-tellings: 1, 2, 3, 4.

The story is popular enough that it even made it into della Porta’s Wikipedia page.

From the English Wikipedia entry for Giambattista della Porta, 27 March 2021.

From the English Wikipedia entry for Giambattista della Porta, 27 March 2021.

Now, the story isn’t completely wrong. In chapter four of book sixteen of the Magia Naturalis, della Porta does write about secret messages in eggs. And at the beginning of the chapter, he writes:

“…eggs are not stopped by the Papal Inquisition and no fraud is suspected to be in them…”

…pontificalium suffragiorium comittiis ova non incipiuntur nec aliquid fraudis in eis suspicatur…

della Porta, Magia Naturalis 16.4 (Latin 1590, English 1658).

So, the inquisition thing is pretty much right, although whether he’s being serious is an open question.

A quick check of the chapter, however, reveals one big difference: della Porta does not take credit for the recipe. He attributes it to Africanus. Even more importantly he says he couldn’t get it to work:

“Africanus teaches thus: ‘grind oak galls and alum with vinegar, until they have the viscosity of ink. With it, inscribe whatever your want on the egg and once the writing has been dried by the sun, place the egg in sharp brine, and having dried it, cook it, peel, and you will find the inscription.’ I put it in vinegar and nothing happened, unless by ‘brine’, he meant sharp lye, what’s normally called capitellum*.”

Africanus ita docet. Gallas et alumen cum aceto terito, donec atramenti spissitudinem habeant, ex hoc quicquid libuerit ouo inscribito, et postquam scriptum Sole desiccatum fuerit, ouum in muriam acrem demittito, et resiccatum coquito, et decorticato, et reperies inscriptionem. Ego in acetum imposui, et nihil evenit, si per muriam non intelligat acre lixiviu, vulgo capitello dictum.**

della Porta, Magia Naturalis 16.4 (Latin 1590, English 1658)

*capitellum: a mixture of quicklime and oak ashes. See Magia Naturalis 9.3 where it is used in a black hair dye (English).

**Della Porta’s text is nearly a word for word translation of the Greek from the Geoponica, and it is also similar, but not identical, to Cornarius’ 1538 Latin translation.

Despite his failure in replicating it, della Porta found Africanus’ recipe tempting enough that he devised another method to try to get it to work. This one is almost never found online, so I’ll append it at the end. To summarize, he says one should first boil the egg, coat it in wax, and then inscribe the message in the wax through to the shell (like when doing etching); next, he says to put the egg in a solution of alum and gall (for how long is unclear), followed by a solution of sharp vinegar (again unclear), after which the egg is dried and the shell removed to find the message in saffron-coloured writing (and even this technique resembles another attributed to Africanus in the Geoponica).

I began to wonder how the mistaken attribution first came about, so I clicked on the footnote at the end of the story on Wikipedia, assuming I’d find something. And I did find something, just not what I expected.

Oak galls. Easter 2021.

Oak galls. Easter 2021.

The footnote pointed to page 227 of a 2015 book called Philalethe Reveal'd Vol. 2 B/W, the text of which was almost identical to the Wikipedia story and didn’t include any references. I checked other languages to see if I could find better sources. I checked French, Italian, Spanish and German versions of the article, but the story didn’t show up in any other languages at all.

This made me even more confused. Surely this story didn’t just appear in a 2015 book. And why was it only in English?

Wikipedia is great because it preserves the entire edit history for every article on the site. I wanted to find out when the story about the egg was added to see if it might give me some clues to other possible sources.

The story turns out to have been added on 23 December 2012—three years before the book in the footnote was published. But whoever it was who added the story (looks to have been someone interested in British art and museum collections in London) didn’t give a reference.

It was orphaned until 2015, when someone made a note that it needed a citation; the request remained unfulfilled until February 2017, when the reference to the 2015 book was added.

That meant the story was on Wikipedia for five years before the reference was added—long enough for this beautiful example of circular referencing to appear: the book, Philalethe Reveal’d (ironic) copied the story from the Wiki, was published, and was then cited as an authority for the Wikipedia story it nicked. It also meant this trail had come to an end.

I had to start from somewhere else; and since many of the websites I looked into besides Wikipedia mentioned a 2014 book on invisible inks by Kristie Macrakis, a professor at Georgia Tech, I started from there.

Macrakis’ version of the story resembles the Wikipedia version, but with a bit more flair. The book also came out two years after the story appeared in the Wiki, so Macrakis’ version could have been a descendent. I think, however, there’s reason to think that her version and the Wiki one are more distantly related. While both versions of the recipe leave ingredients out, they leave out different ingredients. The Wiki leaves out vinegar. Macrakis leaves out oak gall.

As some people on the internet have pointed out, it’s hard to understand how this recipe could work without a pigment (here’s a comment from a thread on reddit; and here’s a post by Craig Matsuoka in a magician’s forum, which was also published in the October 2002 volume of Genii magazine—Matsuoka and his interlocutor Stephen Minch correctly point out that della Porta is debunking Africanus, although they don’t follow it up). I think this insight is more likely to have been inspired by reading the Wiki (or its ancestor) than by reading della Porta, but it seems right. Alum on its own wouldn’t stain anything.

At any rate, it’s not much of a surprise that Macrakis and colour chemist Jason Lye report they couldn’t get the recipe to work. In an appendix (page 311), she appeals to anyone who’s gotten it to work to get in touch with them. On her website she also offers a $200 prize to anyone who can replicate it (Jason Lye also posted a video of one attempt).

I did find someone who mentioned a video on the internet purporting to do the trick with just alum and vinegar. I managed to find a creepy video from 2007—a pretty early date—which I think is the one. If it’s authentic, well, cool. But it’s likely a clever fake.

Old ways to play with your food. New York Times, 29 May 1965, page 14.

Macrakis however gives an even earlier source for the vinegar and alum recipe, well before Wikipedia: a New York Times article from 1965, in which it’s reported that the United States Department of Agriculture recommends parents encourage their kids to eat more eggs by teaching them to write secret messages on the inside using a ‘magic ink’ made of vinegar and alum. 

No doubt building on the popularity of ‘60s spy toys, they told kids to mix one ounce of alum with one cup of vinegar, then use the colorless magic ink to write a message on the shell of an uncooked egg. Once it was dry, one only had to boil the egg for 15 minutes, and—so the USDA promised—whatever secret was written on the shell would show up inside on the white of the boiled egg.

I have found a few leads that may be the USDA’s ultimate source, some dating back to the turn of the 20th century, and I’m sure there are others as well. All of these sources are missing the oak gall and none of them mention della Porta. How the one dropped out and the other dropped in is still a mystery…

For now, here are Africanus’ and della Porta’s recipes for writing messages in eggs. I also tried to reproduce Africanus’ version, with and without oak gall (well, a tannin anyway). It didn’t work.

Julius Africanus’ recipe for leaving a secret message in an egg

“To make inscriptions on eggs. From Africanus.

“Grind up oak gall and alum with vinegar until it reaches the thickness of black ink. Use it to write whatever you want on the egg. Once the writing has dried in the sun, place the egg into a sharp brine. Once it has dried, boil it, and when you have peeled it, you will find the inscription.

“If you coat the egg all over with wax and inscribe it until the shell appears through the letters, then leave it to soak in vinegar overnight, on the next day, after removing the wax, you will find that the vinegar has made the outline of the letters transparent.”

Ὠὰ κατάγραπτα ποιῆσαι. Ἀφρικανοῦ.

Κικίδος καὶ στυπτηρίας μετὰ ὄξους τρίψας, ἕως γένηται πάχος μέλανος, ἐπίγραψον ἐξ αὐτοῦ ὃ θέλεις τῷ ὠῷ, καὶ ψυγείσης τῆς γραφῆς ἐν ἡλίῳ κατάθες τὸ ὠὸν εἰς ἅλμην δριμεῖαν, καὶ ψύξας ἕψησον, καὶ λεπίσας εὑρήσεις τὴν ἐπιγραφήν. Εἰ δὲ κηρῷ περιπλάσας τὸ ὠὸν ἐπιγράψεις ἄχρις ἂν φανῇ τὸ ἔλυτρον τοῖς γράμμασιν, εἶτα ἐάσεις ὄξει βρέχεσθαι τὴν νύκτα, τῇ ἑξῆς περιελὼν τὸν κηρόν, εὑρήσεις τῶν γραμμάτων τὸν τύπον ὑπὸ τοῦ ὄξους γενόμενον διαφανῆ.

Geoponica 14.10 (roughly 10th century, recipe originally 3rd century CE, probably)

Giambattista della Porta’s recipe for leaving a secret message in an egg

“If you want to make yellow letters appear on an egg white (it will work better when the egg is cooked): Boil an egg hard, roll it in wax, and engrave the letters on the wax with an iron point so that the marks go through. Place it into a solution of powdered alum and oak galls. Then put it into sharp vinegar and they will penetrate. And taking off the shell, you will see them on the white of the egg. Africanus instructs as follows: ‘grind oak galls and alum with vinegar, until they have the viscosity of ink. With it, inscribe whatever your want on the egg and once the writing has been dried by the sun, place the egg in sharp brine, and having dried it, cook it, peel, and you will find the inscription.’ I put it in vinegar and nothing happened, unless by ‘brine’, he meant sharp lye, what’s normally called capitellum.”

 Si vis autem ut litera supra albumen videantur croceae et rectius, ubi ovum excoctum fuerit: Coque ovum donec durescat et cera obline et insculpe literas stylo, ut liturae dehiscent, imponatur in humore, id est, ex gallis cum alumine tritis. Inde acri aceto impones et eae fient pentrabiles, quas cortice, detecto videbis in albumine ovi. Africanus ita docet. Gallas et alumen cum aceto terito, donec atramenti spissitudinem habeant, ex hoc quicquid libuerit ouo inscribito, et postquam scriptum Sole desiccatum fuerit, ouum in muriam acrem demittito, et resiccatum coquito, et decorticato, et reperies inscriptionem. Ego in acetum imposui, et nihil evenit, si per muriam non intelligat acre lixiviu, vulgo capitello dictum.

Giambattista della Porta, Magia Naturalis 16.4, 1590 (English, 1658)

View fullsize The Ingredients
The Ingredients
View fullsize Mixing the Ink and Inscribing
Mixing the Ink and Inscribing
View fullsize Control: Painting with Alum + Vinegar
Control: Painting with Alum + Vinegar
View fullsize Drying in the Sunshine
Drying in the Sunshine
View fullsize Placing the Eggs in Sharp Brine
Placing the Eggs in Sharp Brine
View fullsize Re-Drying
Re-Drying
View fullsize Boiling the Eggs
Boiling the Eggs
View fullsize The First Disappointment
The First Disappointment
View fullsize Inside of the Shell
Inside of the Shell
View fullsize Half Shell
Half Shell
View fullsize Results Summary
Results Summary
View fullsize Taking Control
Taking Control
View fullsize Letting it Dry
Letting it Dry
View fullsize Ink on Albumin
Ink on Albumin
View fullsize To be continued
To be continued
April 02, 2021 /Sean Coughlin
eggs, seasonal food, Geoponica, Julius Africanus, Giambattista della Porta, Wikipedia, experimental philology
Ancient Medicine, Philosophy
2 Comments

Detail of the Maon synagogue mosaic depicting a hen and an egg. Via wikimedia commons.

Two ways to talk about eggs

April 04, 2018 by Sean Coughlin in Philosophy, Ancient Medicine

Two discussions of eggs: one, from Michael of Ephesus, on the egg as a boundary between death and life; another, from Aetius of Amida, on the best way to cook eggs (soft boiled, soaked in wine and fish sauce and cooked on a double-boiler).


Lemma: “The reason for this is that nature produces the eggs, as it were, before [their] time, because of its own incompleteness…” (Aristotle, Generation of Animals 3.8, 758b19)

"In what follows, he (sc. Aristotle) discusses the reason why insects produce at first a grub which moves itself and is generally speaking an animal; then, once the grub has grown, it turns into an egg, lacking sensation and movement; then it turns into a different animal from the grub. He says that since an insect’s nature, because of its inherent weakness, is in itself unable to nourish and complete the embryo, what it produces is incomplete. And if in addition to generating an incomplete embryo, its nature generated something lacking soul and sensation as well, the embryo would cease to exist. But if this were the case, it is quite likely that the insect-kind would be absent from the world.* So it must be for this reason that nature generates an animal that is able to be nourished from itself, and it feeds on itself until it reaches completion.** Having reached completion, it dies.*** For living and eating are granted to it so that it becomes complete, but once it has reached completion, there is no longer any point for it to eat, and so no point for it to live.**** At this moment it dies, and it is then like an egg surrounded all around by a shell.***** Later, when what is inside of this shell has been completely concocted by the climate as if by a bird and has changed into an animal, it emerges."

758b19 «Τούτου δ’ αἴτιον ὅτι ἡ φύσις ὡσανεὶ πρὸ ὥρας ᾠοτοκεῖ διὰ τὴν ἀτέλειαν τὴν αὐτῆς.»

Τὴν αἰτίαν διὰ τούτων λέγει, τίνος ἕνεκα πρῶτον μὲν σκώληξ γεννᾶται κινούμενος καὶ ὅλως ζῷον ὑπάρχων, εἶτα αὐξηθεὶς ᾠὸν γίνεται ἀναίσθητον καὶ ἀκίνητον, εἶθ’ οὕτω πάλιν ζῷον ἕτερον παρὰ τὸν σκώληκα. λέγει οὖν ὅτι ἡ τῶν ἐντόμων φύσις ἀδυνατοῦσα θρέψαι ἐν αὑτῇ καὶ τελειῶσαι τὸ κύημα διὰ τὴν οἰκείαν ἀσθένειαν, ἀτελὲς αὐτὸ γεννᾷ· ὥστ’ εἴπερ πρὸς τῷ ἀτελὲς αὐτὸ γεννᾶν καὶ ἄψυχον ἐγέννα καὶ ἀναίσθητον, ἐφθείρετο ἄν· εἰ δὲ τοῦτο, τάχιον ἂν ἐκ τοῦ παντὸς ἐξέλιπε τὸ τῶν ἐντόμων γένος. διά τοι τοῦτο γεννᾷ ζῷον ἐξ ἑαυτοῦ δυνάμενον τρέφεσθαι, καὶ τρέφεται ἕως ἂν τελειωθῇ, τελειωθὲν δὲ θνήσκει· τὸ γὰρ ζῆν καὶ ἐσθίειν δέδοται αὐτῷ διὰ τὸ τέλειον γεγονέναι, ἐπειδὴ δὲ τετελείωται, οὐκέτι χρεία αὐτῷ τοῦ ἐσθίειν, ὥστε οὐδὲ τοῦ ζῆν. καὶ ἐπὶ τούτῳ θνήσκει, καὶ ἔστι τότε οἷον ᾠὸν κύκλῳ περιεχόμενον ὑπὸ τοῦ κελύφους· εἶθ’ οὕτως τὸ ἐντὸς ὑπάρχον τούτου τοῦ κελύφους ὑπὸ τῆς ὥρας ὥσπερ ὑπὸ ὄρνιθος συμπεφθὲν καὶ εἰς ζῷον μεταβαλὸν ἔξεισιν.

Michael of Ephesus, Commentary on Aristotle's Generation of Animals 3.8, (CAG 14,3 p.153,10-25 Hayduck).

*A reductio: if nature generated embryos without soul, i.e., without life, there wouldn't be any insects in the world; but, there are insects; so, nature does not generate embryos without a soul.

**The idea is either (1) that the grub is able to feed itself, or (2) that it is able to be nourished from the whole of its own body, unlike an egg, in which one part is food (yolk) and one part becomes the animal (white). Cf. GA 2.1, 732a28-32 and Michael’s comments; 3.2, 752a27-28.

***Michael might be thinking of allegories of metempsychosis. I have yet to find whether the psuchê (butterfly) was used as a symbol of resurrection by late Byzantine Christians. Whether or not that's what he has in mind, the idea is not Aristotle’s—he nowhere says that grubs die when they become cocoons, nor does he say, as Michael takes him to, that cocoons are akinêton or without movement; rather, he says they are akinêtisanta or at rest. Elsewhere, Aristotle claims cocoons move when touched, e.g. HA 5.19, 551a19-20. Just how familiar Michael was with the HA is not clear; but Michael is nevertheless right that in the passage he is commenting on, Aristotle emphasizes the lack of motion of chrysalids throughout. And even if allegories of metempsychosis are in the background, Michael is most likely drawing the following inference: if something is alive, it has nutritive (and sensitive) soul; if something has nutritive (and sensitive) soul, then it can (move, sense), eat, and excrete residues; cocoons do none of these things; hence cocoons are not alive. The inference of course would be false: at most it would imply that cocoons are asleep. Michael, however, likely sees that there would be a deeper problem in saying cocoons are alive in this sense of 'sleeping': on the one hand, the soul of the grub and the soul of the completed animal cannot be identical, since the animals have different bodily organs, and souls and the organs they use are correlative; on the other hand, it seems implausible that the grub should have both souls simultaneously. But if it cannot have both souls simultaneously, and it must have a soul, then it must have the souls successively, and so must ‘die’ in some sense. Michael, then, thinks it is better to say that the soul the grub had has perished, while what it left behind is something alive potentially, but actually dead, namely an egg, which comes back to life when warmed by the season. Michael hints that this is what he has in mind by emphasizing that cocoons are like eggs, although he does not explicitly distinguish actual and potential kinds of living. It's telling that another commentator, Philoponus, denies caterpillars perish, and claims they merely change from one form to another (On Physics 8, CAG 16 180,19-20). This suggests people other than Michael were thinking through this problem.

****Michael’s interpretation likely relies on the familiar Arisotelian claim that nature does nothing in vain: it would be in vain for an animal whose purpose is to become an egg to continue to live.

*****A similar point is made by Plutarch, Quaest. Conv. 2.3 (Moralia 636C3-D7)

Eggs the right way, soft boiled and in cups. Detail from a 3rd century mosaic at the Hatay Archaeological Museum in Antakya, Turkey. 

Eggs the right way, soft boiled and in cups. Detail from a 3rd century mosaic at the Hatay Archaeological Museum in Antakya, Turkey. 

"Eggs of hens and of pheasants are better, while those of geese and ostriches [literally, 'sparrow-camels'] are worse. Best for the body's nourishment are the ones called 'trembling' [i.e., soft-boiled], while runny ones nourish less, but are passed more easily. They soothe the roughness in the throat caused by shouting or an acrid humour, when they are plastered on the affected places and remain there like a poultice; they also cure roughness because their whole substance is not stinging. For the same reason, they heal roughness in the stomach, bowels and bladder. An egg boiled in vinegar, when eaten, dries the discharges in the bowels. And if you mix things suitable for dysentery or a colic disposition with it and then broil it on coals and give it to eat, you will offer no small benefit to your patients. Suitable for these dispositions are the juice of unripe grapes, unripe mulberry plastered on, ashes of snails burnt whole, and grape seeds, myrtle berries and similar things.  Boiled eggs are hard to digest, pass slowly and provide thick nourishment to the body. The ones baked in hot ashes pass even more slowly and produce even thicker humours than them. Fried eggs have the least nutrition in every respect. For when they are cooked they become greasy and produce a thick humor that is bad and full of residues. Better than boiled and baked ones are those called 'curdled': briefly soaked in oil, garum and wine, and boiled on a double-boiler to a medium consistency. Eggs thickened longer become like boiled or baked ones. The same thing should also be done in cases where eggs are poured on a frying pan, taking the frying pan off the fire when the eggs are still soft."

Ὠὰ ἀμείνω τά τε τῶν ἀλεκτορίδων ἐστὶ καὶ τῶν φασιανῶν, φαυλότερα δὲ τὰ τῶν χηνῶν καὶ στρουθοκαμήλων. κάλλιστα μὲν οὖν εἰς τροφὴν τοῦ σώματός ἐστι τὰ τρομητὰ καλούμενα, τὰ δὲ ῥοφητὰ ἧττον μὲν τρέφει, ῥᾷον δὲ ὑποχωρεῖ. τὰς δὲ ἐν τῷ φάρυγγι τραχύτητας διὰ κραυγὴν ἢ χυμοῦ δριμύτητα ἐκλεαίνει, περιπλαττόμενα τοῖς πεπονθόσι τόποις καὶ προσμένοντα ὥσπερ τι κατάπλασμα καὶ τῷ τῆς ὅλης οὐσίας ἀδήκτῳ ἐκθεραπεύοντα καὶ τὰς τραχύτητας. τῷ δὲ αὐτῷ λόγῳ καὶ τὰς κατὰ τὸν στόμαχον καὶ γαστέρα καὶ κύστιν ἰᾶται τραχύτητας· ἐν ὄξει δὲ ἑψηθὲν ὠὸν εἰ βρωθείη, ξηραίνει τὰ κατὰ γαστέρα ῥεύματα. καὶ εἰ μίξας δὲ αὐτῷ τι τῶν πρὸς δυσεντερίαν ἢ κοιλιακὴν διάθεσιν ἁρμοττόντων, εἶτα ἐπ' ἀνθράκων ταγηνίσας, δοίης φαγεῖν, οὐ σμικρὰ τοὺς κάμνοντας ὠφελήσεις. ἐπιτήδεια δέ ἐστιν εἰς ταῦτα ὀμφάκιον καὶ ῥοῦς ἐπιπαττόμενος καὶ τέφρα τῶν κοχλιῶν ὅλων καέντων γίγαρτά τε σταφυλῆς καὶ μύρτα καὶ τὰ παραπλήσια. τὰ δὲ ἑφθὰ ὠὰ δύσπεπτα καὶ βραδύπορα καὶ τροφὴν παχεῖαν ἀναδίδωσι τῷ σώματι. τούτων δὲ ἔτι μᾶλλον βραδυπορώτερά τε καὶ παχυχυμότερα τὰ κατὰ θερμὴν σποδιὰν ὀπτηθέντα. τὰ δὲ ταγηνισθέντα χειρίστην ἔχει τροφὴν εἰς ἅπαντα· καὶ γὰρ ἐν τῷ πέττεσθαι κνισσοῦται καὶ παχὺν χυμὸν γεννᾷ καὶ μοχθηρὸν καὶ περιττωματικόν. ἀμείνω δὲ τῶν ἑφθῶν τε καὶ ὀπτῶν ἐστι τὰ καλούμενα πηκτὰ μετ' ἐλαίου καὶ γάρου καὶ οἴνου βραχέος ἀναδευθέντα καὶ ἐπὶ διπλώματος ἑψηθέντα μέχρι μετρίας συστάσεως. τὰ γὰρ ἐπὶ πλέον παχυνθέντα παραπλήσια τοῖς ἑψηθεῖσι καὶ ὀπτηθεῖσι γίγνεται. τὸ αὐτὸ δὲ χρὴ ποιεῖν κἀπὶ τῶν ἐπιχεομένων ταῖς λοπάσιν ὠῶν, ἔτι ἐγχύλων ὄντων ἀπὸ τοῦ πυρὸς αἴροντας τὴν λοπάδα.

Aetius of Amida, Libri Medicinales, II 134, 201,19-202,14 Olivieri

April 04, 2018 /Sean Coughlin
Generation of Animals, Aetius of Amida, eggs, resurrection, insects, Commentaries, Easter, Michael of Ephesus
Philosophy, Ancient Medicine
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