Et tu, Treehouse?
Beware {not "celebrating"} the Ides of March!
This week marks the middle of a month, which is apparently referred to as its “ides.” But the middle of March isn’t like other ides—no, it’s packed with lore and myth and connotations.
The word ‘ides’ derives from the Latin idus, which refers to the middle day of any month in the Roman calendar and also the full moon of that month. The idus was typically the day when you’d have to repay any debts. Rome being Rome, that was not a *great* day for anyone falling short, the penalty for unpaid debts being prison or slavery.
The splashier and more well-known connotation of the Ides of March comes from Shakespeare’s dramatization of the assassination of Julius Caesar in his play by the same name. Details like Brutus being Caesar’s best friend and Caesar uttering the phrase “Et tu, Brute?” are [cool, but] fictionalizations. However! He was murdered on the ides of March; there was an omen revealed by a soothsayer (“Beware the next 30 days,” but still); and Caesar was betrayed by Brutus—and Cassius and Decimus and 20ish other Senators—fearing their leader was becoming a dictator. 👀 OK?
Because of Shakespeare’s play, the Ides of March is largely thought of as symbolic of betrayal and tenuous, fickle friendship. Maybe we need a little reframing of the day as a bold rejection of dictatorship and an attempt to restore the republic.1 A thought.
In light of almost none of that, one of my greatest pals—and contributor of the visual meditation featured in the June issue—Julia typically hosts an Ides of March party, replete with Italian favorites, checkerboard tablecloths, and grapevine string lights. Now that I live the farthest I possibly can while still living in the same country, I have come to miss this particular event. What follows is a mood board of sorts: The elements of an Ides party, were I to host one. Maybe you should host one and hatch a plan to disrupt and dismantle fascism over some meatballs.
The Vibe / The Mood / The Feeling
The Menu
◉ Herbed Ricotta
◉ Weird little plate of sardines or whole, not filleted, anchovies (à la top left photo above)
◉ Good crusty bread for the above and below…
◉ Scented/herbed olives with citrus (riffing on this, plus way more olives, a favorite non-recipe recipe of mine)
◉ Crudité FRUIT: Slice up pears, grapes, obviously, melons if they are OK and available to you at this time of year. Citrus; supreme them if you’re feeling… supreme. Plus prosciutto and its friends.
~spherical food interlude~
◉ Meatballs in lots of herbaceous red sauce
◉ More bread—maybe toasted and rubbed with garlic in sauce-ready dip-able slices
◉ This might be a nice moment for some arancini, a thought
◉ Real ancient Roman food is too strange for me to suggest, but definitely roast a big fish if you want? Recline, if you want? Fry some artichokes, that could be cool. There are a lot of different directions we could head for our main course, but I’m feeling like a timpano (timballo if you come from better/more northerly stock than I) is just weird and decadent and randomly inclusive of hardboiled eggs to be the right thing for this particular feast.
◉ Maybe braise some fennel, too?
◉ Chicory salad or some broccoli rabe to cut the above insanity.
◉ Olive oil cake, plus ricotta ice cream or just go for it with mascarpone. Honey drizzle. Pistachio sprinkles?
◉ Drinks are personal, but let’s see… red wine features heavily due to historic lack of clean drinking water. In contemporary times, a nice N/A grapefruit shrub with hard stem herb garnish—thyme, rosemary—would be nice.
The Soundtrack
Clinking glasses
Din of conversation
Whispers of betrayal
Subtle thump of napkin moving back to table from lap, revealing knife???
Swelling feelings of resistance
Whatever you like to listen to (getting a little fatigued of playlist culture, just me?), or fine ok: this song on repeat.
Buds: what do we think—is the Ides of March a “holiday” worth “celebrating”? Too dark? Just dark enough, given the times? Would love to hear your thoughts and also… Now I need arancini…
Make a tiny wooden boat. (LINK)
Or just buy this full-sized beauty. (LINK)
More twig furniture!!! (LINK)
Maybe the most historic home I’ve ever heard of, for sale in Massachusetts. (It’s only had three owners in 350 years?!) (LINK W/ HISTORY, LISTING LINK)
Emphasis on attempt. Ultimately Caesar’s assassination led to a type of martyrdom and multiple acts of aggression (they burned the Senate!!) and civil wars. This is an extremely long and sorted political tale—maybe the long and sorted political tale—but suffice to say: the Roman Republic ended, Octavian was given the reigns and the Roman Empire began at this point.
JUST DARK ENOUGH! into it.