We Did That?

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We Did That? Page 9

by Sophie Stirling


  “We preserve our life with the death of others. In a dead thing insensate life remains which, when it is reunited with the stomachs of the living, regains sensitive and intellectual life.”

  —Leonardo da Vinci

  Elixir of Mummy

  We’ve used human fat, fresh off the chopping block, the blood of both healthy and of freshly dead people, human skulls, and next on the menu are really old dead bodies—mummies.

  Just like skulls, you wouldn’t just eat a mummy like you were taking a bite off a Medieval festival turkey leg. You had to cut little bits off, and usually, powder it. The following recipe is physician John French’s for “Elixir of Mummy” to cure “all infections.”

  Take of mummy (viz., of man’s flesh hardened), cut small, four ounces, spirit of wine…ten ounces, and put them into a glazed vessel (three parts of four being empty) which set in horse dung to digest for the space of a month.

  More horse dung, you ask? What, you thought filet of mummy was the worst part of the recipe?

  Then take it out and express it, and let the expression be circulated a month. Then let it run through manica hippocratis [a filter bag], and then evaporate the spirit until that which remains in the bottom be like an oil which is the true elixir of mummy.

  A month to marinate in horse dung, and another month for it to breathe. You must have patience for these recipes. It allows time to reflect on what you’re about to do, and to psyche yourself up for it. But, if he’s correct, all infections will be cured with this elixir. So it will all be worth the wait. French also states the mummy elixir is “very balsamical”—the meaning of which, I’ve yet to discover. Here’s to hoping it has nothing to do with salads.

  Put Some VapoRub on It

  If you’ve ever seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you will understand that some cultures have holy grail cure-alls. In that movie, it’s Windex. From boils to pimples, the Greek dad tells his family to “put some Windex on it” for it to go away. In most Hispanic cultures, it’s Vicks VapoRub. More commonly called El Vickisito (little Vicks), El Bix, El Bic, Bibaporrú, Eau De ViVapoRu, and Vivaporú.

  Vivaporú (pronounced vee-vah-poh-roo) has become an iconic staple in Latin culture, with powers bordering on the supernatural. Mexican poet, José Olivarez, even wrote a poem about this little bottle of healing. Here is a short preview from this talented poet:

  miss a day of church? put some vaporub on your forehead & watch forgiveness flush your cheeks. put some vaporub on our bank account and watch the bill collectors stop calling. when i forget a word in Spanish? take a teaspoon of vaporub under the tongue.

  Abuelas (grandmas) everywhere prescribe this little blue bottle for a host of ailments, most that have nothing to do with a cold. Mosquito bite? Vivaporú. Bad karma? Vivaporú. I can speak to this, being Hispanic myself. A few of the other common symptoms it has been used to treat include breakouts, nausea, headache, earache, stretch marks, sore muscles, and athlete’s foot. Basically, when in doubt…put some Vivaporú on it!

  Laugh Your Gas Off

  “I felt like the sound of a harp.”

  Nitrous oxide is the fancy term for one of the greatest medical discoveries ever made—laughing gas. I was fortunate (ish?) to need a minor surgery where I was given nitrous instead of anesthesia, and wow—what an experience it was. It was one of the best feelings of my life. You remain mostly conscious while under nitrous, and I vaguely remember quoting Hamlet from memory, while a nurse played classical music on her phone, and I hummed along, as if in a dream. Don’t judge. If you are unfamiliar with its effects, inhaling nitrous causes feelings of euphoria, and complete calm. It often causes hysterical giggling too, which is where its name comes from. Basically, just imagine floating peacefully in heaven, without a care in the world, and everything is funny.

  The gas was first discovered in 1772 by English chemist, Joseph Priestley, but its potential remained undiscovered for decades. At the turn of the century, this magical compound’s potential for pain relief was discovered by English physician, Thomas Beddoes, and English chemist, inventor, and baron, Sir Humphry Davy. Bless them. On an aside, Davy also discovered chlorine, iodine, and made dozens of other contributions to science and medicine. Smart baron.

  Davy inhaled nitrous in the lab one day, and discovered bliss. Davy and Beddoes wanted to see how others reacted to the gas, so they threw wild parties, which Davy deemed “experiments,” where he pumped his guests full of nitrous, and recorded their reactions. He took notes on over thirty people’s experiences—all reported feeling intense joy. Some said they felt weightless, others, like the sound of a harp, with wild thoughts bursting from their mind. Poet Samuel Coleridge described a state of peaceful ecstasy, “like returning from a walk in the snow into a warm room.”

  These parties began popping up throughout the US and England in the first half of the 1800s. They were called “ether frolics,” and were especially popular among chemistry and medical students. Though exquisitely fun, however, the parties held a greater purpose of discovery for Davy. The numbing effects of nitrous were noted, so, it started to be used during surgeries, as an early anesthesia, and for pain relief. The recreational use of nitrous eventually faded away, and after Davy discovered nitrous’ addictive nature by becoming addicted himself, he swore it off for personal use, and only continued objective research. This happy little gas is now regulated, and should only be experienced in medical situations. But, if you happen to be throwing a wild, illegal ether frolic—I’ll be expecting an invite!

  Crapulence Begone!

  Crapulence: the state of being intoxicated; a state of sickness

  caused by excessive drinking.

  If any word best describes the feeling of a hangover, it’s definitely crapulence. There are very few experiences worse than a hangover. You just feel like crap. But, while uncomfortable, they’re also unavoidable (what are you going to do, just never drink)? Pha! Here are some cures we’ve cooked up in the past to deal with these next-day monsters.

  Pokhmel’e

  In 1635, German scholar Adam Olearius took a journey through Russia, and recorded an account of what he saw, and learned on his travels there. One of his chief observations was that the Russians loved to drink. “None of them anywhere, anytime, or under any circumstance lets pass any opportunity to have a draught or a drinking bout,” he noted. How did they deal with the predictable and uncomfortable after-effects? Such professional drinkers had a tried and true recipe called pokhmel’e. It translates to “hangover” or “after being drunk.”

  To make this traditional recipe, here’s what you do:

  »Cut cold, baked lamb into small, thin strips

  »Mix with peppers and cucumber (i.e. pickles), cut similarly

  »Pour this over a mixture of equal parts vinegar and cucumber juice

  Enjoy by eating with a spoon! Afterwards, Olearuis notes, “a drink tastes good again,” You’ll be ready to start all over.

  Though probably very sour, there was steady logic behind this seemingly strange combination of foods. The lamb provides energy-giving protein. Pepper releases hydrochloric acid in the stomach, easing queasiness. The brine (rassol) of the pickles was crucial, due to the salt content, the electrolytes of which combat dehydration from drinking too much alcohol. Also, the malolactic fermentation of traditional Russian pickle-making would create what we now know as probiotics, which stimulate healthy bacteria in the gut.

  The wisdom behind this medieval recipe has carried over today in the popularity of pickle juice. If you’re into American football, you’ll probably know that in 2000, players from the Philadelphia Eagles football team drank pickle juice before their game against the Dallas Cowboys. As a result, none of the Eagles players suffered from the muscle cramps that plagued the Cowboys. The Eagles won the game. Also, if you’re at a bar, you can ask for something called The Pickleback, which is a shot of whiskey, followed by a shot of
pickle juice. You can thank the Russians later!

  “The vine bears three kinds of grapes: the first of pleasure, the next of intoxication, and the third of disgust.”

  —Anacharsis, sixth century BCE

  Mesopotamian Stewage

  Another interesting recipe from the past comes from ancient Mesopotamia. In 5000 BCE, a physician recommended whipping up the following stew:

  “If a man has taken strong wine and his head is affected…take licorice, beans, oleander, [with] oil and wine…in the morning before sunrise, and before anyone has kissed him, let him take it, and he will recover.”

  Before anyone has kissed him. That fast huh?

  Licorice and wine are naturally sweet, beans are usually savory, but aside from the queasy clash of flavors, this cure might not be as repulsive as many others—except for the fact that oleander is a toxic plant. It might have worked by inducing vomiting, but too much and it would have been fatal. I think I’d rather take the headache to death.

  “If an evening of wine does you in,

  more the next morning will be medicine.”

  —Medical School of Salerno

  Cabbage Patch Cures: Hangover’s Nemesis

  The word cabbage does not suggest anything intimidating. In fact, it’s kind of a silly word if you say it a few times in a row. Try it. Try it again. You get me? But, it’s a fact that ancient Greeks and Romans considered cabbage plants the natural enemies of grapevines. They believed that even planting cabbage near a vine would cause the delicate vine to wither away.

  This may be why the ancients thought cabbage would be so effective as a hangover cure! Too much wine in your system? It will run right out of you at the appearance of its sworn enemy, cabbage. Aristotle himself was known to swear by cabbage before and after drinking jaunts. Both Pliny the Elder, and Cato offer no less than eighty-seven ailments the mighty cabbage can cure.

  But the truth is that cabbage is good for you, just not because it’s the nemesis of wine.

  It contains the amino acid glutamine, as well as potassium, sulfur, chlorine, iodine, Vitamin C, B6, and tons more nutrients including fiber to help absorb the alcohol acetaldehyde in your system.

  You could eat this low-key bully several ways, preferably before and after your alcoholic escapade:

  »Raw, served with vinegar, and lots of olive oil

  »Boiled with the same

  »Russian style, with pickled cabbage water (predictable much?)

  »Ukrainian style, with sauerkraut

  »Boil the cabbage, and just drink the juice

  Also, Galen the Greek recommended wrapping your head in cabbage leaves, though, I’m wagering this made anyone witnessing this strange spectacle feel better than it would make you feel.

  “If anyone have drunk too much, if it be a man, the testicles should be washed with salt and vinegar, and if it be a woman, the breasts, also let them eat the leaf or the stalk or the juice of a cabbage with sugar.”

  —The Canterbury Tales

  Curative Wreaths

  Speaking of wrapping your head in stuff. If you knew anything about the proper way to throw a banquet in ancient Greece, you would make sure to have wreaths available to decorate your guests’ heads, and prevent hangovers. It was believed the unique fragrances of these wreaths would protect the wearer from the consequences of hitting the wine too hard.

  Recently discovered Greek and Roman texts reveal there were entire books dedicated to the healing powers of wreaths. Certain flowers, plants, and leaves have healing powers, and combining them in a particular way was a skilled art.

  For example, it was thought the smell of roses or myrtle would prevent headaches and cool down your “bad humors.” Roses were considered a powerful sedative; henna, sage, and saffron could lull you into a peaceful sleep, and let you wake, rested.

  Also, twining the leaves of the Alexandrian laurel shrub to wear around your neck was recommended after a night of wild Roman festivities, like the legendary bacchanalias. If there were plants associated with a specific god, those would be used resourcefully as well. For example, ivy, laurel, and asphodel were all linked to the god Dionysus, and were commonly used for a wide variety of medicinal purposes.

  The renowned physician Triphonus wrote that flowered wreaths were “not simply ornamental, but served to ward off drunkenness, migraines, and other maladies” Perhaps, modern day, flower-crowned Coachella festivalgoers are channeling ancient wisdom after all.

  We Did That?: The Very First Vaccine

  English physician Edward Jenner created the first vaccine in 1796. Smallpox, or the pox, killed nearly half a million people every year in eighteenth-century Europe. Its appearance was akin to leprosy, and caused great fear, as it was usually fatal. The key to beating smallpox once and for all came from a rather odd source: cows.

  The cowpox virus was a more minor skin disease than smallpox, that cows and milkmaids developed, usually on their arms or legs. In his hypothesis that these two were connected, Jenner took the pus (I know, gross) from a lesion of a milkmaid infected with cowpox, and deposited the pus in the bloodstream of a young boy. He then exposed the boy to smallpox—but nothing happened. The boy didn’t catch this highly infectious disease at all. This is why the word vaccine comes from the Latin word for cow: vacca (in Spanish, vaca).

  A Holy Cure

  We all have little remedies that make us feel better. Tummy ache? Some tea might be your go-to. Feeling a tickle in your throat? Probably VapoRub, and some hot chicken soup makes you feel better every time. But we all know that sometimes royals can be a bit…extra.

  Whenever Ethiopian emperor Menelik II (1844–1913) felt the slightest bit ill, he was known to rip out and eat pages from the bible. God knows how this man reached the conclusion that bible paper cured all ills, but it must have worked for him at some point, because he did it for years. Maybe he just needed some fiber.

  Things really turned the page for his little habit in 1913. After suffering a stroke, he went on a paper eating binge, and stuck to a diet consisting solely of the first and second book of Kings. He did survive the stroke, but ended up dying from an intestinal blockage…most likely from all the paper. Too much fiber, man.

  In his defense, there are mentions in the bible to “eat” the word of God. But, perhaps if he had spent more time reading, and less time salivating, he might not have taken this piece of wisdom so literally. Here is one quote to note.

  “Your words were found, and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart…”

  —Jeremiah 15:16

  If you were Menelik II, this means one thing: bon appétit.

  Prescriptions that Quack

  “Medicine sometimes grants health,

  sometimes destroys it.”

  —Ovid, Tristia

  Leprosy No More

  The following remedy will cure the pesky leprosy that is giving you such a bad rep. You no longer need face the embarrassment of having to wear a bell around your neck, and having everyone avoid you. But, I hope you’re not scared of snakes. Especially fat, scary vipers. John French, well-known physician in the seventeenth century, and author of The Art of Distillation, recommends the following.

  Take of the best fat vipers, cut off their heads, take off their skins, and unbowel them. Then put them into the best canary sack [white fortified wine], four or six according to their bigness into a gallon. Let them stand two or three months. Then draw off your wine as you drink it.

  Some put them alive into the wine, and there suffocate them, and afterwards take them out, and cut off their heads, take off their skins, and unbowel them, and then put them into the same wine again, and do as before.

  So, let me Spark Note this for you real quick. First, you find some vipers. Then you attempt to kill some vipers (without getting yourself killed). Then, you do some nasty stuff with t
heir bodies, and let them stew in your white wine. Preferably, the one you’ve been saving for your anniversary.

  Then you try and find some more vipers to capture, while at the same time trying not to get yourself killed in the process. Then you put those vipers alive into your wine, until they drown. You’re going to have to wait awhile for this bit, since vipers can usually survive under water for over an hour. Then, you do some more nasty stuff to them. Then, repeat.

  All in all, I think either the leprosy or snakes would have killed me by the time this wine was ready.

  Virtuous Medical Dung

  “…there is great virtue in dung.”

  In case you wanted to know how to make Water of Dung, you’re covered. The following recipe, from our friend, John French has medicinal benefits, he claims, by making the ground fertile. He’s actually got a good point there. Fertile ground allows food to grow. So, why use store-bought fertilizer anymore? Make your own dung tea by doing the following.

  Ancient “still” apparatus used for distillation. The larger end

  would be put under a flame.

  Take of any dung as much as you please. While it is still fresh, put it into a common cold still [pictured] and with a soft fire distill it off. It will be best if the bottom of the still be set over a vapor. If you would have it be stronger, cohobate the said water over its feces several times; for we see there is great virtue in dung. It makes ground fertile, and many sorts thereof are very medicinal.

 

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