Renaissance Bolognese Sausages – Salsiccioni Bolognesi from a 1560 Carnivale Feast

Bolognese Sausages – Salsiccioni Bolognesi

Bolognese sausages served with chicken pinwheels as part of the Primo servitio posto in tavola, the first service from Domenico Romoli’s 1560 Carnivale feast.

These were the surprise champion of the first service. Of all the dishes placed on the table for the Primo servitio posto in tavola, the Bolognese sausages were the ones people fought over. The cold roasted crane-style chicken may have been the prestige dish in theory, but at our table the sausages staged a quiet little coup and vanished.

That reaction makes sense. These sausages are familiar enough to be comforting, but layered enough to make people stop and wonder what they are tasting. Pork, fat, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, rosewater, and cheese come together into something warm, subtle, and deeply savory. Nobody guessed that there was cheese in the sausage, and nobody could taste the rosewater directly, but everyone knew there was something more than pork happening.

This is exactly the sort of dish that makes Renaissance food so interesting. It is not strange for the sake of strangeness. It is rich, careful, elegant, and festive. A courtly sausage, if such a thing can be said without sounding ridiculous.

Why Bolognese?

The word “Bolognese” matters here. Bologna was already associated with fine pork products and sausage-making, and specifying Bolognese sausage likely signaled more than geography. It suggested a recognizable style: refined, carefully made, and worthy of a formal table.

Much as certain modern regional food names carry expectations of quality, “Bolognese” in a Renaissance feast menu may have told diners that these were not ordinary rustic sausages. They belonged to the world of urban craft, skilled butchery, and prestige foods. In one period-style description of Bolognese practice, the sausages are described as being made “for princes,” which is too wonderful a phrase to leave sitting quietly in the corner.

In other words, these are not merely pork tubes. These are pork tubes with credentials.

The Scappi Version: Courtly, Spiced, and Delicate

The main recipe used for this redaction comes from Bartolomeo Scappi’s Opera dell’arte del cucinare, Book II. Scappi’s sausage is not smoky or aggressively rustic. It is finely worked, warmly spiced, and softened with rosewater and, if desired, grated cheese. The cheese does not make the sausage taste cheesy. Instead, it gives depth, savoriness, and a richer mouthfeel.

The rosewater is especially interesting. Modern cooks often worry that rosewater will make savory food taste like perfume, but in this sausage it did not announce itself at all. I diluted the rosewater by half with plain water because modern rosewater can be strong. After the sausage mixture rested for a few days before cooking, no one could identify a floral flavor. My suspicion is that the rosewater functions partly as an aromatic liquid to help distribute the spices evenly through the meat.

📜 Period Italian and English Translation

Italian, Scappi, Opera, Book II	Faithful English Translation
Prendi carne magra di porco ben netta di nervi, & grassa buona nella sua proportione; pestala finemente con pepe, cannella, garofani, noce moscata, & un poco di zenzero; aggiungendovi sale quanto basta, & acqua rosata; et se vuoi farle più delicate, mettivi del formaggio grattugiato. Poi insaccale in budelli sottili, & falle cuocere in acqua, o rostirle alla graticola.	Take lean pork well cleaned of sinews, and good fat in proper proportion; pound it finely with pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and a little ginger; adding salt as needed, and rosewater. And if you wish to make them more delicate, add grated cheese. Then stuff them into thin casings, and cook them in water, or roast them on the grill.

A Bolognese Variant: Sausages for Princes

There is also a regional Bolognese-style sausage tradition that describes lean pork or veal, beaten very fine, seasoned with salt and pepper, stuffed into larger casings, made about the length of a hand, and dried in smoke. A richer immediate-use version could be made with half lean meat and half fat, with fennel added, though that version was not intended for keeping.

This distinction is useful. Scappi’s version is delicate and courtly, with rosewater, spice, and optional cheese. The Bolognese variant emphasizes regional practice, size, drying, and smoking. Together they suggest why “Bolognese” was worth naming on a feast menu: the word carried culinary weight.

📜 Period-Style Bolognese Reconstruction

Italian

English Translation

Salsicce bolognesi Se vuoi fare buone salsicce bolognesi, togli carne di porco o di vitello della coscia, senza nervi né grasso, et pestala quanto puoi. Aggiungi sale et pepe, et mescola bene. Poi togli budella grandi, nettale et lavale bene, et empile forte della carne, et falle lunghe quanto una mano, secondo l’uso di Bologna. Poi ponile ad asciugare al fumo. Et così le fanno per i principi. Et se vorrai, puoi farle più grasse con metà carne magra et metà grasso, et con buon finocchio, ma queste non sono da serbare.

Bolognese Sausages If you wish to make good Bolognese sausages, take pork or veal from the haunch, without sinew or fat, and beat it as much as you can. Add salt and pepper and mix well. Then take large intestines, clean and wash them well, and fill them firmly with the meat, making them the length of a hand, according to the custom of Bologna. Then set them to dry in smoke. Thus are they made for princes. And if you wish, you may make them fatter with half lean meat and half fat, adding good fennel, but those are not for keeping.

Humoral and Feast Context

These sausages make excellent sense in a first service. Pork is rich, fatty, and satisfying, but the warming spices transform it into something more refined. Pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and ginger all bring heat and digestive stimulation. In humoral terms, this is food meant to wake the appetite and prepare the stomach for the courses to come.

That richness is balanced by the rest of the Primo servitio. Bitter chicory, dressed citron, sharp capers, carrot salad, cold roasted bird, and savory meats all work together. The capers are especially important because they appear repeatedly throughout the larger feast. They are not just garnish. They are little salty, acidic punctuation marks that cut through fat and keep the table lively.

This is one of the things I love about reconstructing an entire service rather than an isolated dish. You begin to see the rhythm of the table. Romoli is not simply listing foods. He is building contrast.

At Our Table

These sausages were the clear favorite of the first service. They were warm, subtle, and delicious. The spice was present, but not loud. It did not taste like modern breakfast sausage, nor did it taste like a sweet sausage. Instead, the flavor was courtly and layered: familiar pork, softened by fat and cheese, lifted by warm spices, and rounded in a way that made people keep reaching for more.

Nobody realized there was cheese in the sausage. Nobody tasted roses. But everyone knew there was something more than pork. That hidden richness is likely why the dish worked so well. The cheese gave savoriness without becoming obvious. The rosewater, diluted with water, helped carry the spices without turning the dish floral.

For this reconstruction, I included fennel, following the richer non-keeping Bolognese tradition described in period sources. The result felt especially harmonious with the warm spice blend and likely contributed to the sausage’s broad appeal at the table.

By the end of the meal, there were leftover pieces of the cold crane-style chicken and some chicory salad. There were no leftover sausages. That says everything.

No Casings? A Modern Kitchen Solution

Traditional sausage casings are ideal if you have them, but I did not use casings for this feast. Instead, I shaped the sausage mixture in plastic wrap, twisting the ends tightly to form compact logs. I placed the wrapped sausages in a shallow pan and gently simmered them until set. After poaching, I unwrapped them and finished them in a pan with a little oil to brown the outside.

This is not a period technique, but it is a practical and effective modern adaptation. It lets the cook make historical sausage without needing special equipment, casings, or a sausage stuffer. The result held its shape, sliced well, and was good enough that the platter emptied.

Lucanicae – Ancient Roman Sausages Recipe

This dish was served as part of the Push for Pennsic 2004 – Early Roman Feast.

Originally published: June 29, 2025 at 3:44 PM | Updated: June 5, 2026

Updated 6/5/2026: This post has been expanded to current Give It Forth standards with additional historical context, Roman feast placement, Pennsic and camp cooking guidance, an appetizer-sized recipe for eight, dietary notes, FAQ, internal links to the full Roman feast menu, and structured recipe data.

What are Lucanicae? Lucanicae were seasoned sausages associated by Roman writers with Lucania in southern Italy. This version is inspired by Roman sausage traditions and the flavors of Apicius: minced meat, pepper, pine nuts, and liquamen or fish sauce, shaped small for feast service and grilled or gently cooked before finishing.

Lucanicae – Grilled Roman Sausages

Course: Gustum (Appetizer)
Origin: Ancient Rome
Served: Warm or Room Temperature
Event: Push for Pennsic 2004 – Early Roman Feast

Lucanicae are exactly the kind of dish that makes a Roman feast feel generous from the first course. Small, savory, highly seasoned sausages sit beautifully beside flatbread, olives, cucumbers, herbed cheese, cabbage, and chickpeas. They are rich enough to feel substantial, but when made small they remain appropriate for the gustum, the appetizer course meant to wake the appetite rather than exhaust it.

For modern feast cooks, they are also practical little flavor engines. The mixture can be prepared ahead, shaped small, chilled, transported, and cooked quickly on a grill or skillet. That makes Lucanicae especially useful for Pennsic-style service, primitive sites, and SCA dayboards where food needs to be flavorful, sturdy, and manageable without a full modern kitchen.

Historical Background

Lucanicae, the seasoned sausages of Roman origin, were named after the region of Lucania in southern Italy. Roman writers connect them with the Lucanians, and the name survived into later sausage traditions such as Italian luganega and Spanish longaniza.

Did You Know?
The Roman author Varro explains Lucanicae as sausages named from Lucania, describing the practice of stuffing minced meat into casings with seasonings. Whether read as food history, etymology, or both, the passage shows that Romans associated this style of sausage with a specific regional tradition.

For more on ancient Roman cookery, see the digitized Latin and English text of Apicius – De Re Coquinaria.

The surviving Roman cookery tradition does not give us a modern sausage recipe with neat measurements, temperatures, and timing. Instead, it gives us a flavor-world: pepper, liquamen, herbs, nuts, wine, vinegar, smoke, roasting, and meats prepared for household tables, taverns, military travel, and feasts. This redaction is therefore not a claim of exact reconstruction. It is a practical, feast-tested interpretation designed for SCA service, camp conditions, and modern food safety.

This is the useful place where historical cooking meets real-world feast work. A cook has to ask not only “what did the source say?” but also “how do I serve this safely, attractively, and generously to a table of modern diners?” For Lucanicae, the answer is to preserve the Roman flavor profile while making the shape and cooking method flexible.

Lucania, Soldiers, and Sausage-Making

The Roman explanation for lucanicae ties the sausage to Lucania, a region of southern Italy. Whether the Roman army truly learned the technique there or later writers preserved a convenient food etymology, the association matters. Sausages are portable, efficient, flavorful, and well suited to feeding groups. Minced meat mixed with salt, spice, and fat can stretch ingredients, cook quickly, and serve neatly in small portions.

That practicality explains why sausage belongs so comfortably on a Roman-inspired feast table. It is not merely meat in a casing. It is preserved knowledge: how to season meat strongly, how to divide it into portions, how to make it easy to cook, and how to carry rich flavor into a meal without requiring a large roast or elaborate carving.

For a feast cook, that ancient practicality still applies. A platter of small, bite-sized sausages looks abundant, serves cleanly, and works beautifully in an appetizer course. At Push for Pennsic, these are best treated as a gustum: a savory opening bite served with other small Roman-inspired dishes rather than as a large modern entree.

🏛️ Feast-cook note: A mound of small, meatball-sized sausages is pleasing to the eye and gives a generous impression while keeping portions appropriate for an appetizer course. About 1 tablespoon of meat mixture per sausage gives two or three bites, and 1 pound of meat makes roughly 30 small sausages.

Modern Interpretation

This simplified grilled version uses bulgur to approximate the grainy texture of some Roman-style forcemeats and mixes pork and beef for richness. Pine nuts add a distinctly Roman touch, and liquamen, or modern fish sauce, gives the meat its salty, savory backbone.

Historically, sausage could be stuffed into casings, but feast conditions are not always generous. This version may be shaped into small patties, rolled into bite-sized sausage logs, stuffed into casings, or gently poached in plastic wrap when casings are unavailable. The goal is not to make a modern deli sausage, but to create a flavorful Roman-inspired bite that can survive real event conditions.

The flavor should be peppery, savory, and slightly rich from the pine nuts. The fish sauce should not make the sausage taste fishy. It should deepen the meat, much as Roman liquamen does throughout Apicius-style cooking. If your fish sauce is very strong or salty, use a little less and add more only after cooking a test piece.

Why These Ingredients?

• Ground meat: Pork is especially appropriate for Roman cookery, though a pork and beef blend gives a rich, accessible modern texture.
• Bulgur: This is a modern practical choice that gives texture and helps the mixture hold together. It also echoes the use of grains and fillers in historic forcemeat traditions.
• Liquamen / fish sauce: Roman cookery used fermented fish sauces extensively. Modern fish sauce is the easiest substitute.
• Pine nuts: Pine nuts appear frequently in Roman recipes and add richness, texture, and a distinctly ancient Mediterranean character.
• Pepper: Black pepper was a prized imported spice and appears often in Apicius-style seasoning.

⚖️ Humoral note: Later medieval dietary theory often treated pork and beef as heavy meats that benefited from warming spices, salt, vinegar, mustard, or sharp sauces. While this recipe is Roman rather than medieval, the flavor logic still makes sense at table: pepper, fermented fish sauce, and accompaniments such as mustard, olives, herbs, or wine help cut the richness of the meat.