The Lost Supper: Searching for the Future of Food in the Flavors of the Past

by Taras Grescoe

In the tradition of Michael Pollan, Anthony Bourdain, and Mark Bittman, “a surprising, flavorsome tour of ancient cuisines” ( Kirkus ★)—from Neolithic bread to ancient Roman fish sauce—and why reviving the foods of the past is the key to saving the future. Many of us are worried (or at least we should be) about the impacts of globalization, pollution, and biotechnology on our diets. Whether it's monoculture crops, hormone-fed beef, or high-fructose corn syrup, industrially-produced foods have troubling consequences for us and the planet. But as culinary diversity diminishes, many people are looking to a surprising place to safeguard the into the past. The Lost Supper explores an idea that is quickly spreading among restaurateurs, food producers, scientists, and gastronomes around the that the key to healthy and sustainable eating lies not in looking forward, but in looking back to the foods that have sustained us through our half-million-year existence as a species. Acclaimed author Taras Grescoe introduces readers to the surprising and forgotten flavors whose revival is captivating food-lovers around the ancient sourdough bread last baked by Egyptian pharaohs; raw-milk farmhouse cheese from critically endangered British dairy cattle; ham from Spanish pata negra pigs that have been foraging on acorns on a secluded island since before the United States was a nation; and olive oil from wild olive trees uniquely capable of resisting quickly evolving pests and modern pathogens. From Ancient Roman fish sauce to Aztec caviar to the long-thought-extinct silphium, The Lost Supper is a deep dive into the latest frontier of global gastronomy—the archaeology of taste. Through vivid writing, history, and first-hand culinary experience, Grescoe sets out a provocative in order to save these foods, he argues, we've got to eat them.
Published in partnership with the David Suzuki Institute.

Genres: Nonfiction, Food, History, Cookbooks, Nature, Food Writing, Sustainability

312 pages, Hardcover

Published September 19, 2023

About the author

Taras Grescoe was born in 1967. He writes essays, articles, and books. He is something of a non-fiction specialist.

His first book was Sacré Blues, a portrait of contemporary Quebec that won Canada's Edna Staebler Award for Non-Fiction, two Quebec Writers' Federation Awards, a National Magazine Award (for an excerpted chapter), and was short-listed for the Writers' Trust Award. It was published in 2000 by Macfarlane, Walter & Ross, and became a Canadian bestseller. Sacré Blues helped Taras fall in love with Quebec, and explained the origins of poutine to an eternally grateful country. The publisher let it go out of print, but used copies can be found starting at $89.23 on Amazon.

His second book, The End of Elsewhere: Travels Among the Tourists (2003), which was published by McClelland & Stewart, involved a gruelling nine-month journey by foot, rented Renault, India railway 2A sleeper, and túk-túk, from one End of the Earth (Finisterre in Galicia) to the other (Tianya Haijiao, the End of the Earth in Hainan, China). An exploration of the origins and consequences of mass tourism, The End of Elsewhere saw Taras walking from west to east along a thousand-year-old east-to-west pilgrimmage route, stuffing his belly on a cruise ship from Venice to Istanbul, and observing the antics of sex tourists in the flesh-pots of Thailand. It failed to win any prizes in Quebec, but was nominated for a national Writers' Trust Award, and was then published to great critical acclaim in England by Serpent's Tail. The New Yorker called it "A gloriously trivia-strewn history of tourism."

His third book, The Devil's Picnic: Around the World in Pursuit of Forbidden Fruit, was a real labor of love. Taras revived a post-adolescent interest in debauchery and (temporarily) turned it into a vocation, chewing coca leaves in Bolivia, scoring moonshine in Norway, and puffing on Cuban cigars in the smoke-easys in San Francisco. This one was published by Bloomsbury in New York, Macmillan in London, and HarperCollins in Toronto in 2005. The Picnic, critics seemed to agree, was a rollicking good read, with a serious subtext about the nanny state and the limits of individual liberty. It sold quite well, and was translated into German, French, Chinese, and Japanese, but didn't get nominated for anything. Apparently nobody wants to give writers prizes for having a really, really, good time (even with a serious subtext).

As for his fourth and latest book, Bottomfeeder, he really shouldn't have to tell you about it. You're soaking in it.

Taras is also a frequent contributor to the New York Times, the Independent, and National Geographic Traveler. He has written features for Saveur, Gourmet, Salon, Wired, the Guardian, the Globe and Mail, Maclean's, Men's Health, the Chicago Tribune Magazine, the International Herald Tribune, the Times of London, and Condé Nast Traveller. He has prowled nocturnally in the footsteps of Dalî and Buñuel in Toledo, Spain for National Geographic Traveler, eaten bugs for The Independent, and substituted for William Safire in the New York Times Magazine. His travel essays have been published in several anthologies.

He has twice been invited to appear at the Edinburgh Book Festival (where he learned to love brown sauce and vegetarian haggis), done the amazing Literary Journalism program at the Banff Centre (where he got the other writers ripped on authentic absinthe from the Val de Travers), and has led seminars on travel and food writing from the depths of Westmount to the heights of Haida Gwaii.

He lives on an island called Montreal, which can be found at the confluence of the Ottawa and Saint Lawrence Rivers.

Reviews

[Rowan · Rating 3 out of 5]

5/5 stars for the history and experimental archaeology, 0/5 stars for the weird ecofascism that popped out every time the author tried to apply these "lessons" to sweeping ideas about how the human race should produce and consume food. Honestly, still recommend reading it! But keep a hearty amount of skepticism about population control being the only way for the earth to survive. To be blunt, the issue is not that we don't have enough food on the planet to feed everyone, or that we can't produce large amounts of food sustainably and ethically: the issue is that we're choosing not to, because it's not profitable under the current system.

[Lara Maynard · Rating 5 out of 5]

“If we don’t change our ways, it could soon lead to hunger for all.”

- Taras Grescoe, The Lost Supper: Searching for the Future of Food in the Flavors of the Past, Greystone Books, 2023

Taras Grescoe is a Canadian non-fiction writer and self-described grainhead. His award-winning books include Sacré Blues, Possess the Air, Straphanger and Bottomfeeder.

With The Lost Supper, Grescoe turns his attention with dismay to the state of today’s food systems: industrialization, mega-farms, depleted and degraded soil, and lack of agrobiodiversity—the range of plants and animals that we use for nourishment. For instance, Grescoe tells us that it’s estimated that 75% of farm crop varieties have disappeared since 1900. The monocultures of soybeans, wheat, rice and corn that we now rely on mean eliminating biodiversity.

The Lost Supper is an informative mixture of food and travel writing – the travel part being both over geography and time. There are 9 chapters with contemplations of food and food history: 3 set in Canada, and the others in Mexico City, Ossabaw Island (off Georgia, USA), the Yorkshire Dales (England), Puglia (Italy), Cádiz (Spain) and Cappadocia (Turkey), where he learns about bugs, olives, fish sauce, pork, cheese, bread and camas (edible plant bulbs) from chefs, farmers and others. I'm a fairly adventurous eater and would have been happy to accompany the author on his food explorations in person. But the book took me along quite well.

Grescoe’s position is that sustainable, nutritious eating lies not in eco-modernism, but in foods that have historically sustained us as a species — reviving and cultivating ancient grains and wild yeasts and raising old livestock breeds. And looking to make sure that there is ethical agriculture behind what you eat. And that everyone everywhere should eat farmhouse cheese – the real deal, not the processed cheese-like stuff.

I’d recommend The Lost Supper to nonfiction readers, history buffs, foodies, people who like travel memoirs, and foodways scholars. It would be an interesting title for a food studies course reading list. It points to a possible route towards sustainability rather than big plans, perhaps offering more philosophy and weight on individual choices than policy recommendations. But it offers serious food for thought in very serious times.

A note on the cover: Quality design to go with quality writing. My review ebook doesn’t have the credits for the book jacket text and design nor the illustration filled in. But I want to find out because I would frame and hang that cover! Also, as a Canadian, I am confused about the u-less American spelling of ‘flavours’ in the title because I thought I was reading a UK edition. And the publisher is Canadian. I’d like that corrected on my framed copy, thanks! ;)

I received a digital ARC review copy of #TheLostSupper for a blog tour organized by Random Things Tours.

[Crystal King · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Lost Supper: A Culinary Journey Through the Evolution of Food by Taras Grescoe is a fascinating exploration of the foods of our ancestral past. As someone particularly interested in ancient Roman cuisine, I was immediately drawn to this book because of Grescoe's extensive research on garum - the funky, fermented fish sauce that was ubiquitous in ancient Roman cooking.

Grescoe travels around the world meeting with archaeologists, historians, chefs, and food producers to uncover the origins and stories behind foods that were once commonplace but are now rare or forgotten. From ancient wines, to silphium spice, and to Aztec caviar, Grescoe's prose vividly brings these ingredients to life on the page. His curiosity and enthusiasm for his subject matter is contagious.

What I appreciated most about The Lost Supper is how Grescoe positions these historical ingredients not just as relics of the past, but as sources of knowledge that can teach us valuable lessons about health, sustainability, and preserving biodiversity for the future. The book covers some somber topics like habitat destruction and industrial agriculture but maintains an optimistic spirit about the potential for 'gastronomic archaeology' to improve and expand modern diets.

For food lovers, history buffs, and anyone concerned about the impacts of globalization and industrialization on our food supply, The Lost Supper is a must-read. It satisfied my craving for knowledge about a variety of cuisines while also giving me a thoughtful new perspective on the future of food.

[Matthew Galloway · Rating 3 out of 5]

There's a lot of interesting information here, though I'm conflicted about whether the book needed to be as long as it is. The point could easily have been made with one or two of these "lost" foods, with maybe a third to drive the point home and add some diversity. The length definitely causes the message to lose a bit of it's punch and focus.

Around the actual research and interviews, Grescoe adds small memoiric pieces -- particularly around trying to teach his children to enjoy insects and other "strange" foods -- and the occasional foray into food porn descriptions. This latter piece had an odd effect on the audiobook. The narrator has that sort of journalistic tone to instill confidence in the facts, but that merges strangely with lush descriptions of dishes. I can see the value of these pieces -- food descriptions to entice the reader to test his theory and working to coerce his children to eat bugs so the reader doesn't want to be lumped into a childish category for refusing to try the food. But I also think these maybe extended parts of the book unnecessarily.

The book also endeavors to include diversity by his investigations of various parts of the world, though he had a definite focus towards Europe and the Americas. This is weirdly reinforced by the narrator, who adds a bit of an accent to Italian and Spanish words, but sticks to an unvarnished American pronunciation for other languages.

His thesis is certainly fun -- that we need to eat things to save them -- since, after all, in our capitalistic society, things without purpose don't fare as well. And he points out that the benefits in taste and nutrition justify the expense of this uncommon ingredients. However, that only works if people can afford it and I do think he occasionally strays over the line into food snobbery when speaking.

[Doug Dosdall · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's some wonderfully entertaining and interesting stuff here, many of the chapters are 5 star worthy. When the author is giving us interesting historical info or entertaining travelogues I loved it. When he was lecturing on the solution to our food system he was much less convincing. The information wasn't wrong, it just doesn't scale to a planet of 8 billion people. For privileged foodies, sure.

[Anabel · Rating 5 out of 5]

*I received a copy of this book on NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for this opportunity*

Simultaneously delicious, intriguing, and educational, THE LOST SUPPER takes the reader on a journey through human history as author Taras Grescoe discovers, and delights, in some of the lost delicacies of humanity. From Roman fermented fish (or garum) to the sourdough bread feasted upon by ancient Egyptians, Grescoe's mission to document his experience is in the spirit of Anthony Bourdain's Parts Unknown and provides his readers with numerous gastronomic delights (at least, through his writing).

THE LOST SUPPER offers the general population a look into how our past and future may be intertwined, and all that we stand to lose by letting our traditions be forgotten in favor of progress. Its approachable and informative, perfect for both scholars and people wanting to dip their toes into the world of 'gastronomic archaeology' and understanding food biodiversity.

[Tea]

DNF @ 23%

I expected this book to critique the modern food system and make the case for a better future based on an insightful analysis of our past. None of that substance is found here. This is more of a travel log, and while the cultural and historical dimensions of food are fascinating to me, so much richness is lost in the written form. Better just to watch an Anthony Bourdain show.

[leslie collins · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book about slow food and getting back to our food roots. I like history and I like food so the combination kept my interest. The author traveled the world and met with different types of people trying to keep traditonal and old foods alive. I especially found the part about garam and cheese interesting. We get to learn why it was important and why it should still be important. He also included a lot of history which I found fascinating!

I thought the author presented heirloom or slow foods to the reader in an informational and fun way. He seemed to have fun learning and then sharing. I appreciated that the book never got preachy or made me feel like there was an agenda. It did make me think which is a good thing.

I think this book would be or interest to foodies, historians and those interested in sustainablity. Thank you Netgalley for the opportunity to review this book.

[Ellen · Rating 4 out of 5]

In The Lost Supper, author Tara’s Grescoe travels the world seeking foods that were once a part of human diets and now are mostly endangered. His first chapter discusses insects, which has real potential to turn many off (he does acknowledge near the end of the book that crickets and worms are never likely to be in grocery stores any time soon). Some foods, we learn, are deeply buried in our ancestral history; others are nearer the surface and many have contemporary counterparts that require only minor changes in farming and preparation techniques in order to be more healthy and at the same time palatable to modern tastes. The problem is not necessarily (as some have claimed) agriculture per se, but attempts by industrial farming to raise produce that can be made in huge quantities and create profit.

The Lost Supper reads like a television food series (it’s been compared to similar work by Mark Bittman and Anthony Bourdain) and because of this, it was by turns both interesting and frustrating. I loved reading about the different foods and locations - my favorite chapters being those that examined my favorite foods like cheese and bread. But as evocative as his descriptions were, it was hard to get the full flavor of each culture from the page alone. I hope this book is developed as a series, and if it is, I would be happy to invite the author to Wisconsin to learn that we do make the world’s finest cheeses and don’t all run around with foam cheeseheads eating Velveeta. Well, maybe a little Velveeta, but cheeseheads only on Sundays. We promise.

[Carolyn Whitzman · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really interesting if slightly underbaked book. Grescoe takes on a dizzying array of topics related to biodiversity and food - from ancient grains and bread to recovering Roman fish sauce and herbs, to Aztec insect delicacies. A combination of gourmand touring and science of food, it sometimes goes right off into flakiness (the necessity of famines for population control, anyone?). But it made me think about food in new ways, like maybe cheese isn’t so bad for the planet?

[Raz Cunningham · Rating 5 out of 5]

I devoured this book. Pun indented. It was a well written, quick read with a great sense of history and story. It also has an eye on the future and does a wonderful job talking about that element within several of the topics. The chapters on Garum and silphium were clear standouts for me but each chapter was a wonderful experience. Anyone with an interest in food, agriculture and food culture should give it a read. Also great for historians and anthropologists.

[Josie]

a good read! fascinating to learn about food history and the foods that have been lost to time (or have they hmm). i wish it had been a bit more geographically wider in scope but i suppose it's impossible to condense all of food history into 300 or so pages. must go find some farmhouse cheese

[Margi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic. Fascinating. An important read.

[Nick · Rating 1 out of 5]

Non-expert glances at food history and decides we’d be better off limiting the population. Pretty descriptions + incipient eco fascist lessons = a hard pass for me. Stopped at about 10 %.

[Daisy Barone · Rating 3 out of 5]

intriguing…..definitely some overly pedantic sections where I was SO BORED (wheat….) but love when grescoe goes to the areas he’s researching and eats and learns! also depressing parts about global warming as is expected. Glad I’m done answering probably wouldn’t read again but would recommend to others also interested in these topics

[the_abinator · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is in many ways a collection of all my favourite things: archaeology/history, anthropology and food. I genuinely believe in what Taras advocates: that we can learn a lot from the past and a lot has been lost in a very short amount of time.

However the book starts off somewhat weak, sounding more like a guy chasing rare foods that probably should be left alone. Other times the book shoots itself in its the foot by criticising people like George Monbiot, who probably can relate to a lot of this book and only has minor differences in opinion from Taras, rather than focus on the shared enemy; industrial agriculture. There’s also a few inaccuracies about grazing and biodiversity: yes some grasslands become less biodiverse if abandoned, but usually whatever natural ecosystem was there before takes over after some time. It depends on the scale of comparison.

He also quickly dismisses the historical argument that agriculture was a mistake from the perspective of human wellbeing. I am not sure that’s easily dismissible, especially from a biodiversity and disease point of view. But yes, some form of cultivation can exist for tens of thousands of years without destroying everything as evidenced by indigenous peoples.

The book quickly gets better when there’s more anthropology in the mix. There’s a lot of answers in ethnobotany, archaeobotany, anthropology and archaeology besides traditional ecological knowledge and the answers truly lie there. I learnt a great deal in a short amount of space despite this book cites many books I have already read so in this sense it’s an economical, if slightly meandering way, to get to know the main arguments surrounding the future of food and agriculture.

P.s. I could not find any evidence of ecofascism in this book. The only times population is mentioned, it’s mentioned more generally as a potential accidental tragedy and blames the global rich for their consumption, not the poor.

[Katy Wheatley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Grescoe looks at the state of modern food production and dives back in time to see if ancient foodstuffs and ways of tending them offer any answers to the environmental apocalypse on the horizon. There are no recipes in this book and each section deals with his hunt for a particular ingredient, something that takes him all over the world, far from his Canadian home. It was unfortunate for me that the first, hefty chapter deals with eating bugs, which he describes in frankly, unalluring detail. For me, it wasn't the showstopper I needed to lure me to change some of my eating habits. Things pick up as the book progresses. I really enjoyed his tracing the history of Wensleydale cheese and looking at sustainable farming practices. Also fascinating was tracing the Indigenous Canadian tribes use of a root called camas which was their version of the potato.

At times I loved this. At other times I found it deeply frustrating. Of course, Grescoe is right in sounding the alarm over processed, convenience foods and the damage being done to both ourselves and the land we hope will sustain us. Having said that, this is very much a niche volume that explores what might be possible with different thinking and approaches. It doesn't, at any point deal with the reality of a family on a punishing budget who might understand that it is right and fair to pay ethical farmers a high price for their produce, but who, if they did, would run out of food money after the first day. Nor does it acknowledge how much single minded focus and time it takes to live like this.

I applaud the sentiment of the book, but all the way through it I kept thinking about how impossible it would be for most families to live like this.

[Socraticgadfly · Rating 2 out of 5]

The stuff about food itself was overall at the edge of four stars, probably 3.75, but the ancillary stuff was around 2.5. So, average of 3.25. That said, this book feels lower, and I reserve the right to bump it down. And, 5 minutes after writing this, I did just that.

1. Too breathlessly accepts David Graeber and David Wengrow in the intro — and well beyond. Here's my take on the overhyped from the title "The Dawn of Everything."
2. No, pigs weren’t domesticated before sheep and goats, per most DNA-based analysis. Also, domestic dogs were definitely eaten before other animals were domesticated. Also, the domestic hog is considered by many to be a subspecies of sus scrofa, not a separate species.
3. “Punic” is not a Latin “disparaging” term for Carthaginians; it’s derived from Phoenicia. Where did THAT come from? Oh, and, yes, people WERE “passed through the fire” in good likelihood in the Phoenician homeland as well.
4. Forgot to add anything about his chapter on garum, about which I already knew a fair amount. The one thing worth noting is that, in taking about trying to make a modern imitation, he talks about all sorts of modern southeast Asian fish sauces, but never mentions good old, plain old Worchestershire. I don't think it's a matter of him not thinking to make a connection, but rather, refusing to make one because of food snobbery.
5. Cheese chapter is good. That said, having had some raw-milk cheese, I’ll note the author’s interest in them is probably in part an affectation. It would be hard to double-blind taste tests to get a raw-milk and a pasteurized Cheddar closely enough matched, but I’d be interested. That said, there’s also the factor of raw milk aficionados, a whole nother story. I personally have no problem with raw-milk cheese, but anymore, even at a small local dairy, wouldn’t drink raw milk. Grescoe would have served readers well to note this, or to out himself by saying he drinks raw milk.
Oops on him! Per a reviewer of another book, he DOES promote raw milk. Two stars it is.
6. On olives, tries to bash modern industrial cooking oils, but doesn’t follow through on canola, which has a similar omega 3/omega 6 profile to olive oil, and has 4,000 years or more of oil history, albeit originally as a lamp oil. Other oils, like flaxseed and many nut oils, are generally about as healthy.
7. On bread, gets a bit into natalism with the second Ag Revolution of artificial fertilizer and the third of Borlaug’s wheat hybrids and similar. (Another reviewer notes “eco-fascism,” which might be a bit harsh.) As with raw-milk cheese, he makes unsubstantiated nutritional claims about, not white vs whole wheat flour, but stone-ground vs modern roller mill whole wheat flour.
8. On the Pacific Northwest food world’s chapter, the inland migration and coastal migration hypotheses for American Indian migration aren’t mutually exclusive. Besides, per the White Sands footprints, American Indians cut inland SOMEWHERE early in their migrations. I noted this, both the non-exclusiveness, and the lack of White Sands info, on Graeber/Wengrow, too.
9. Tired of the Russia-bashing (not just Putin-bashing) in the book off and on in the last one-third. The reality is that Kievan Rus never covered “east bank Dneiper” and was never reconstituted as a nation-state after the eventual retreat of the Mongols. He does back off some of his genetic essentialism of sorts by the end of the book.
10. There is no “one theory” about what caused the Little Ice Age, and some climatologists still date its start to before 1550 CE. Obviously, if its start dates to before the Columbian Contact, that can’t be “the” cause. Even if afterward, that’s far from likely to be the only cause. If population change or decrease is A cause, Mongol invasions or the plague are as likely involved as the Columbian Contact.

Summary: A lot of the “para-food” emphasis of this book is “romancing the indigenous.” Shock me. Yes, we can eat better, but not every American Indian before 1492 did so either.

And, presuming the para-food issues leak into other books of his, I have no desire to read more. Definitely, the raw milk angle makes him look like a food conspirituality guy or something.

[Shari · Rating 4 out of 5]

In The Lost Supper, Taras Grescoe takes us on a journey as he describes his attempts to 'deindustrialize' his diet and to make the case that the world can benefit from traditional ecological knowledge (TEK). To do this, he takes a deep dive into foods of the past, travelling around the world to educate himself about what people ate in the past and what remains of that food today. He speaks to archaeologists, growers, chefs, and those who harvest various kinds of food. It's a fascinating and highly readable book. It's no secret that industrial food and the standard diet of most people in wealthy nations in not healthy for people or the environment, but the facts as he lays them out are still startling. For example, in his Prologue, he says that 9 out of 10 gallons of milk in the US 'now comes from freakishly productive Holstein-Friesian cows, all of which are descended from only two bulls.' He also makes the point that our diets are far more limited now than they were in the past. 'At a single 23,000-year-old site in Africa's Rift Valley, archaeologists have found evidence that Paleolithic foragers feasted on 20 small and large animals, 16 families of birds, and 140 different kinds of fruit, nuts, seeds, and legumes, a diet drawn from wetland, savannah, woodland, and desert food webs' (also from the Prologue--there were no page numbers in my copy). Obviously, the human diet is far less varied today. Grescoe is not making the argument that agriculture is bad, nor is he saying the 'paleo diet' fad is good. Industrial agriculture as it is currently practiced is problematic and the Paleo diet has nothing to do with the reality of what Paleolithic populations ate. Rather, he is making the case that we need to expand our options and take lessons from what and how people ate in the past for our own health and that of the environment in which we live. What he found in his travels, though, was a mixed bag--sometimes the stories were hopeful, but sometimes they were not.

He went to Mexico City to discover and taste some bugs that used to be a staple food, but now, due to development, the bugs are hard to come by and very expensive to buy, thus putting them out of reach for those without the money to spend on such delicacies. When he visited his hometown on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, he talked to the indigenous population who have been denied access to their own Native foods for centuries. One man dubbed this 'food warfare' which is a good way to put it. Without traditional Native foods, people became reliant on empty calories, white flour, sugar, etc and health deteriorated. This is a common situation worldwide. On the more hopeful side, he visited some cheese makers in the UK who were building a successful business making cheese that is good for people, the cows, and the land. These are just a few examples the author focuses on--there are many more, each one quite fascinating.

I loved this book. Not only did I learn about foods I'd never heard of, but also about the locations where these foods thrived--the geography, environments, cultures, and prehistories/histories. I think these things are worth knowing, even if only for the ideas they can bring and the lessons we can apply to our lives today. I do not think that even the successful enterprises he visited will be a solution to current and future food problems. There are too many people on the planet and as these food entrepreneurs pointed out, high quality food is more expensive. Many people cannot afford it and many of those that can, don't want to pay more. We cannot recreate the past, but we can learn from it.

This is a fine book that is definitely worth reading if you're in any way interested in food, food culture, history/prehistory, cultures in general, and food history.

[Venky · Rating 3 out of 5]

Whether it be prowling the streets of Mexico City in search of ahuautle, a delicacy made from the eggs of a tiny water strider, and supposed to be an Aztec royal fare, or traipsing the isolated stretches of Ossabaw off the coast of Georgia hunting down one of the finest pork (“Ossabaws are considered the closest thing to the acorn-fed pigs of western Spain, whose ham is counted among the treasures of European gastronomy”), award winning author Taras Grescoe attempts to instill the practice of diversity when it comes to culinary preferences. Diversity according to Grescoe is resiliency.

Grescoe, during his singularly unique travels, comes up with facts which are more in the form of revelations than just information. For example, he shares with his readers the jaw dropping fact of 90 per cent of all milk coming from “freakishly productive Holstein Friesian cows all of whom are descended from only two bulls.” But the key and quintessential message propagated by Grescoe throughout his fascinating book is the striking fact that sustainable and rejuvenating eating is not an outcome of looking to the future but in looking back to the past. Looking back to the gastronomic fare which nourished and nurtured our ancestors and humanity in general through its half-million-year existence as a species.

Grescoe’ s adventures represent a paradoxical combination of sheer culinary derring-do and a methodical scientific dissection into the health aspects of such bravado. This includes trying ingrain into his family the multiple benefits of entomophagy by persuading his son to pop a roasted cricket (or two) into his mouth! The book is also tinged with measured humour contextualized to the situation on hand.

In a poignant and evocative passage, Grescoe appeals to the world to leverage on the Traditional Ecological Knowledge (“TEK”) possessed by the indigenous populace, and the adaptation and adoption of which would work wonders for the preservation of not just the environment but also enhance and embellish the relationship of man with nature. TEK includes techniques of controlled burns that serve as both a fire prevention method and food management technique. Grescoe even tracks down a potato like vegetable Camas, cultivated by the Coast Salish people by using the method of controlled burns.

Human intransigence finds unashamed expression in the aged and monumental olive trees of Puglia, where an insidious bacteria going by the name of Xylella threatens to fell magnificent olive trees that have stood the test of time and circumstances for centuries. Instead of instituting quickfire damage mitigation measures, politicians’ bicker over motives while conspiracy theorists across the country produce theories ranging from the outlandish to the outrageous.

The Lost Supper is a marvelous journey into the wide and diversified world of food, a world which the current phenomenon of monoculture is threatening to decimate. “Human appetite is completely capable of usurping species in the wild,” writes Grescoe. “Species are disappearing at rates hundreds of times higher than at any other point in the last 10 million years”. As responsible citizens it is up to us to reverse this alarming trend by taking informed decisions on how, what and where we consume our food. Lest any doubts arise, each of us is perfectly capable of making such studied decisions. Here is hoping that we do just that!

[Jeff · Rating 4 out of 5]

Intriguing Romp Through The History Of Food That Fails The Sagan Standard. One of the core features of the scientific method, and indeed of rational thought more generally, is what is known in some circles as the "Sagan Standard" after he quoted it so much: Extreme Claims Require Extreme Evidence.

And this is where this otherwise truly intriguing tale utterly fails, coming in at just 10% documentation despite claims as extreme *even in the prologue* as claiming that 90% of US milk production comes from a particular breed of cows and ultimately is the product of just two bulls that ultimately created that particular breed.

Reading the text as less science and history - even though much science and history are discussed - and more as the "creative nonfiction" Grescoe writes of once describing his writing to a security officer as, the book flows quite a bit better and provides quite a bit of interesting and intriguing nuggets for people of various persuasions to track down on their own. For example, the global histories Grescoe explores, from the Aztec culture of eating certain bugs to the Phonecian/ Mediterranean culture of eating very fermented fish to the Canadian First Nations' peoples' culinary pursuits and several others as well all provide rich stories that *beg* for a more documented history. On the other hand, if one is more gastronomically inclined ala the author, perhaps one simply wants to try to track down these particular foods and techniques for him or herself to sample these items as the author did - including a particular breed of pig that "originates" from a small island not far from where this reviewer lives on Florida's First Coast.

Ultimately, once one abandons any standard of documentation the way one would abandon any sense of "reality" upon entering a cinema to watch the latest MCU movie and appreciates the sheer spectacle of what is presented to you... this is a truly great book that foodies in particular will absolutely love. Given the literal hundreds of different shows about food and culinary pursuits, including several actively traveling around the world highlighting various dishes and techniques just as this book does... clearly there is a market for exactly this kind of tale, and this one does in fact appear to work perfectly within that market. Very much recommended.

[Katrina Owen · Rating 4 out of 5]

My husband bought this book after loving Grescoe's earlier book, Straphanger. However, this one sat on our bookshelf for a while—no bikes mentioned meant it didn’t capture his interest. So, I picked it up, and I’m so glad I did!

Grescoe writes with intelligence, and a deep understanding of food history. The book delves into humanity’s evolving relationship with food, from ancient traditions to the modern, often damaging, industrialized system. I expected to learn, to be shocked, and to be inspired—and I accomplished all of those.

The most shocking aspect for me was learning about the industrialized production of pigs in the U.S. Not only do the animals endure terrible conditions, but so do the workers and their families, many of whom are undocumented. Toxic manure is spread over fields near schools, impacting communities in ways that are as heartbreaking as they are infuriating.

But the book isn’t all grim. There are moments of hope and inspiration, like the story of cheesemakers in Yorkshire who care for endangered breeds and prioritize humane practices. These pockets of innovation and care remind us that there are better ways to produce food, ones that honor both the environment and the people involved.

Grescoe’s blend of historical insights, scientific research, and modern realities makes this book engaging and thought-provoking. It has a powerful message about the importance of knowing where our food comes from and supporting local farmers who prioritize sustainability and care over quick profits.

Whether you’re passionate about food history, sustainability, or simply curious about the story behind your dinner, The Lost Supper offers an eye-opening and deeply relevant perspective. It’s a reminder that we all have a role to play in creating a food system that values the land, the animals, and the people who make it all possible.

[Melissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

*This book was received as an Advanced Reviewer's Copy from NetGalley.

There's something very human about wanting to eat hard-to-find ingredients or unusual things. Maybe because the rarity indicates scarcity or prestige? Perhaps because rare things are rare precisely because they are so good and the supply has been used up? Grescoe explores some of these ingredients of antiquity in this book, ranging from insects to fermented fish.

I was particularly taken with garum. It was fascinating to read about the author's own experiments (I'm not sure I'd be brave enough to try what they did). How can a rotted fish (or fermented rather), be safe at those temperatures and preparation? Why were people so crazy over it that there were hundreds of factories? And why did it largely disappear if it was so good?

Of course, more than just fish was covered. There was a section on insects and their eggs (actually two sections), a bit about camas root, and even olive trees, among other ingredients. The author paid close attention to say why these food stuffs were rare, what human interaction and ecology played a part in, and what can be done, if anything to try to revamp these items. Unfortunately, due to how destructive we can be as a species, the outlook is sometimes bleak. But special attention is paid to show how people who do care about saving these items are working towards the future.

A very interest book, there are so many things I'd love to try after hearing about them now (maybe not the fish, I'm still skeptical), but know that some will be things I'll never get to experience, so I will have to leave to the imagination.

Review by M. Reynard 2023

[Samantha · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The Lost Supper" by Taras Grescoe is a captivating journey into the world of food and culture. Grescoe's storytelling is nothing short of beautiful; it weaves a tapestry of culinary history and human connection that keeps you engrossed from start to finish. His vivid imagery brings the flavors, aromas, and landscapes of the places he explores to life, making you feel like you're right there with him.

What sets this book apart is the author's ability to connect food to our shared human experience. Through tales of lost recipes and forgotten traditions, Grescoe reminds us of the importance of preserving our culinary heritage. However, I must admit that while I thoroughly enjoyed the book's storytelling and imagery, I still can't get past the eating bugs thing, but I can see why it was so important to include.

Despite this personal quirk, "The Lost Supper" is a delightful read for anyone who appreciates the power of food to bridge cultures and generations. Grescoe's passion for his subject matter shines through on every page, making this a worthwhile addition to any food lover's library. So, if you're more adventurous than me when it comes to food, you'll likely enjoy it even more!

[The Book Elf · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found , and am still finding, this book an incredibly fascinating read. As someone who has had a lifelong interest in food, its origins, and how it is prepared etc the knowledge in this book is incredible.
Once I had read the prologue and the first chapter I decided that I wasn't going to read this book conventionally chapter by chapter, page by page. I decided to read the chapters that really interested me first ie; Hard Cheese. I am a Yorkshire lass raised on proper Wensleydale , or at least I thought I had been until I read this enlightening chapter on the original Wensleydale recipe. I found out that the original Wensleydale had been a blue cheese, open textured and soft, very similar to a French cheese which is understandable as it was first made at Jervaux Abbey by the Cistercian monks.
Thanks to this chapter I am now going to pay The Courtyard near Settle a visit and try some of Andrew and Sarah's Northern Dairies cattle cheese.
Following on from that I will be reading the next chapter about Puglia and The Death of the Immortals.

An absolutely cracking 5 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 book.

[Nathan Taxel · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a delight to read and the comparison to Micheal Pollen in the blurb is well earned. Fans of The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Cooked, can expect another deeply personal journey into the world of unusual and unique foodways. However, In the end I was, unconvinced by the author central premise, which is why I didn’t rate it at five stars. The idea that there was a key to sustainably feeding the entire human population to be found in the food of the distant past was fascinating, but I don’t think the examples provided actually support that conclusion. On a superficial level, it is true, that diversifying our food supply and our agricultural land, eating lower on the food chain, and practicing forms of restorative agriculture which include thoughtful husbandry of larger animals are all practices which make food production more sustainable. But following ancient or rediscovered foodways is not in any way essential to doing those things.

[Tova Cranford · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this read. Both Grescoe's writing style and general reverence for food and its history reminded me very much of the experience of reading and listening to Anthony Bourdain. Grescoe didn't lean into the capitalism of it all enough for my liking though so for that, it gets four stars. Even with that said, it is now among the small stack of books about food that I would eagerly recommend to people.

While I'd say it's the chapter on olives and olive oil that has struck me the most, some of the stats related to decreased biodiversity & increases in monoculture discussed by Grescoe where overall the most jarring to me:

"a quarter of the 8.7 million plant and animal species alive are now vulnerable to extinction and likely to vanish in the next few decades."

"Yet of the 10,000 plants that have nourished Homo sapiens over the millennia, only 150 are cultivated for food today, and just 14 animal species provide 90 percent of the calories we get from livestock."

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

||THE LOST SUPPER ||
#gifted @greystonebooks
✍🏻
A facinating read on journeying into our ancestral past to find sustainable foods for our future.

Grescoe travels the globe talking to many different people from chefs and architects to farmers who are reviving lost ways of traditional cuisines. This creative nonfiction was a wonderful mix of food writing history and science. Grescoe's culinary pursuits are vibrant and compelling. Though parts of this talk about hard truths of industrial agriculture and habitat destruction Grescoe remains upbeat and optimistic about bringing our past into our future, I really enjoyed his outlook and storytelling.

A great pick for foodies and history lovers or anyone looking for an engaging read on a sustainably future.
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For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong

[Rev · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you’re looking for a book that takes you around the world, offers an interesting history lesson, and demonstrates how history is essential in moving forward and figuring out the future of our species, look no further.

Taras Grescoe travels to faraway places in search of the building blocks of humanity and our food. From ancient civilizations in Turkey to Indigenous culture in British Columbia, from fish sauce, to crickets, to cheese, to olive oil, THE LOST SUPPER had me curious to taste the diets of past societies and recognize where exactly we’ve gone wrong with the food we produce and consume today.

While I’m not sure that I would willingly eat insects unless I was on Fear Factor and being rewarded tens of thousands of dollars for doing so, I am sure about this book being super enjoyable and interesting. I learned so much. Highly highly highly recommend!

[Teddy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I received an e-ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.


I LOVED this book!!!!! Anyone who knows me knows my obsession with historical foods and my anxiety about agricultural diversity. (I never said I was cool.) Grescoe dives into the foodways of the past (both familiar and unfamiliar). For those who already are interested in food history, some of the contents of the book are well-trodden paths; but those paths are explored in ways that reveal new insights. And there is still plenty to learn here, even for those of us who already know a lot. For those who are new to food history, this book is approachable and captivating. And if folks want to learn more, there's a great bibliography at the end. (Huzzah!! Finally a popular nonfiction book with a useful bibliography!!)

I absolutely adored this book, and I have already recommended it to several friends. Can't wait to buy my own copy!