One last post: the history, food, and wine of Southern Italy

Hello again everyone! I thought I'd make my last post a big one, covering some of the history, food, and wine of Southern Italy. The history part of this post should give you all a (somewhat) better idea of what my dissertation is actually about.

When I say "Southern Italy," I'm speaking mainly about Campagna, Puglia, Basilicata, and Calabria (as well as Sicily and Sardinia). In antiquity this area was called 'Magna Graecia" or "Greater Greece," owing to the extensive colonization by the Greek city states to Italy's East. Though it was thoroughly Romanized, the region did still maintain a substantial number of Greek speakers throughout its history. Today, Southern Italy is often referred to as the Mezzogiorno, a word which literally means "midday." Roughly, this is the area controlled by the Kingdom of Sicily (and later, the Kingdom of Two Sicilies).

This kingdom was founded in the 12th century, and continued (in one guise or another) until the unification of Italy in 1861.

Let's jump back to Late Antiquity. By the early 6th century AD, the Western Roman Empire had collapsed and was replaced by various Germanic kingdoms. In Italy, the Ostrogoths created a new kingdom under the rule of Theoderic, a man who was, by all accounts, a great ruler.

Gold medallion produced under Theoderic. Note his mustache, which was a stereotypically "barbarian" style of facial hair

It's important to understand what we think Ostrogothic Italy was like. While you may think of these "barbarian" kingdoms are completely displacing or eliminating the local Roman populations, historians do not think that this was the case. Rather, these invaders would have made up a small portion of the population: the local Romans would have almost certainly outnumbered the Ostrogoths. In many ways, the Ostrogoths ruled Italy much as the Romans had before them. They had highly developed legal and taxation systems, and art and literature were still being produced. In the above medal, Theoderic is even portrayed using the same iconography as the Roman Emperors. There were some differences however; importantly, the Ostrogoths were followers of Arian Christianity, as opposed to the Christianity followed by the Romans. I'm not going to get into the nitty gritty of the theological differences between these two religions, but in brief: the Arians believed that Christ, though clearly superior to other humans, was still a created being and not entirely equal to God the Father. Put simply: "there was a time when Christ was not." Arianism was one of the main heresies of late antiquity, and many of the Germanic invaders were among its adherents.

These religious differences were seized upon by Justinian, the emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire (remember, the only one left at this point) as the justification of an invasion of the Germanic kingdoms of the Western Mediterranean. He essentially sold these conflicts as wars of "liberation," freeing the local (orthodox) Roman populations from their barbarian (Arian) oppressors. In reality it seems that religion was a small portion of Justinian's decision to invade, but it did provide a convenient pretext. Beginning in 535, Justinian waged war against the Ostrogoths in order to regain control of the Italian peninsula. This war (as well as his campaigns in other parts of the West) took decades and caused an unbelievable amount of devastation to both the land and its inhabitants, but ultimately Justinian was fairly successful in his reconquest of the West.

This success was extremely short lived. While Justinian managed to hold this empire together, things very quickly unravelled after his death in 565. Despite spending 20 years and the entirety of the Roman treasury to regain Italy, most of the peninsula was lost to a new wave of invaders, the Lombards. With the land devastated and depopulated, the Lombards entered almost unopposed.

Most of this territory was lost within a decade of Justinian's death

The next ~200 years were the darkest years for the Byzantine Empire. In addition to problems in Italy, the empire faced a massive invasion by the Persians in the East which was only repelled at tremendous cost. Immediately after this the Arabs, united by Islam and organized into the Umayyad Caliphate, expanded out of Arabia and conquered nearly 3/4 of the Byzantine Empire.

With so many problems in every corner of the empire, Byzantium had little ability or interest to interfere in Italy. While there were still pockets of Byzantine control, the local rulers were largely expected to fend for themselves. As a result, what little remained under the control of Constantinople in the North were lost, and the southern territories were under constant threat of raids and piracy by Muslims from North Africa. In fact, this lack of security and the inability to rely on military aid from Constantinople is one of the reasons that the city of Rome turned toward the Franks (and eventually Charlemagne) and away from Byzantium--but that's a story for another day.

Charlemagne being crowned Emperor of the Romans by Pope Leo III TOTALLY BY SURPRISE, OF COURSE on Christmas day, 800.

So, by the early 9th century, Southern Italy and Sicily were controlled by a mixture of Arabs, Lombards, and Byzantines. The influence of the city of Rome was fairly minor during this period; papal power was being exerted much more towards the North than towards the South. Lombard territories were spread throughout the bottom half of the Italian peninsula, and by and large were ruled as small, local principalities rather than as a single unified territory. Byzantine territory was largely restricted to Calabria (the toe of Italy's boot) and parts of Basilicata (the instep). Byzantine Sicily was in the process of being conquered by the Arabs, a process which would be completed in the first years of the 10th century. Having established a foothold in Sicily, Arab raiding would remain a problem for well over a century.

This status quo, at least with regard to Byzantium and the Lombards, began to change in the mid 9th century (and this is also where my own research picks up). By the 860s the various crises facing the Byzantine Empire had finally begun to settle down, and under the Macedonian Dynasty Byzantium once again became the principal power in the Mediterranean world, expanding outward instead of being pushed back onto its heels. This renewed stability allowed for an increased focus on the West; while Byzantium was ultimately unable to stop the invasion of Sicily, they did make great strides on the Italian peninsula itself. The empire managed to bring a large portion of Southern Italy under its control, playing local Lombard leaders off of one another and appointing capable katepans, the title of the leaders of Byzantine Italy. These katepans were given a high degree of autonomy, perhaps owing to the distance between Southern Italy and Constantinople.

The Katepanate of Italy, in the early 11th century.

While under the authority of Byzantium, the population of the Katepanate was hardly homogenous. The Greek-speaking population was still mainly confined to Calabria, Basilicata, and the Southern end of Puglia, while the Latin Lombards occupied most of the rest. Along with these linguistic differences came religious differences, which is the focus of my dissertation. These groups practiced the liturgy differently, venerated different saints, and practiced different styles of monasticism. The traditional story is that these differences were quite extreme and pronounced, and that identifying oneself as a Greek or Latin Christian was highly significant and unchanging. I still have a LOT of analysis to do, but it seems to make that while these differences weren't exactly subtle, these two groups (i.e. Greek and Latin Christians) had not crystalized to a great extent. Rather, people identified in different ways in different situations. The extreme religious differences between Rome and Constantinople would not become a serious factor until the early 13th century, after the Latins led a crusade which captured Constantinople itself. So, in a nutshell, that's what I've been working on: what was the role of religion in Southern Italy in the early Middle Ages? Hopefully at some point in the (not too distant) future I'll be able to answer this question!

Shifting gears a bit, let's move on to the food of Southern Italy. To a large degree, stereotypical American-Italian food is based on the cuisine of Southern Italy. Lots of tomato-based sauces. Lots of olives. Even pizza is a Southern invention, hailing from Napoli, the capital of Campagna. This food also tends to be on the spicier side, though that is not a hard and fast rule. For my last recipe, I decided to make Calabrian lamb, a dish containing lamb chops, tomatoes, red bell pepper, green olives, and onion. It's a snap to put together, and has some really great flavors. The sauce ingredients I'm about list should be enough for about 4 servings, and you would probably want 2 chops per person (depending on the size). Go get the following: Lamb chops (you want rib chops; shoulder chops need longer cooking, and this is not a low-and-slow recipe); 1 can tomatoes (14 oz, San Marzano if you can find them, other Roma tomatoes if not); 1 small onion; ~1/4 cup green olives, pitted; 1 red bell pepper; parsley (I unfortunately didn't have this, as it had spoiled in my fridge...); red pepper flakes; olive oil; salt and pepper.

Take all of those ingredients and get them ready: crush the tomatoes up with your hands, dice the onion, peel the red pepper and cut into ~1" chunks, and coarsely chop the olives.

Peppers and olives, and the tomatoes.

Lamb and onion. Ideally you'll have better looking lamb cuts than this, but I was working with what I had...

Begin by heating a few tablespoons of olive oil over medium-high heat. Salt your chops, and add them to the pan. Don't crowd the pan! Resist the urge to fit all your chops in at the same time enough you don't have ample room for it. You'll never get a good sear if the pan is too full.

I would not put more than one more cop in this pan, or it'd be too full. Work in batches if necessary, and resist the urge to move them around too much; you want them to get a nice sear.

After a few minutes (3-4, depending on thickness), flip the chops and cook on the other side. We want them to be just barely undercooked; you'll finish them off in the sauce in a little while, but you need them quite close to done. Once they're cooked through (another few minutes on this side)...

...remove the chops to a plate and start on the sauce. Reduce the heat slightly and add your onion and crushed red pepper to taste.

Keep them moving until they get a nice golden brown. Don't let them burn! Once the onions are done (~5 minutes), add in your crushed tomatoes.

Let the tomatoes cook for another 5 minutes or so to cook some of the liquid down, and then add in your red peppers and olives.

You also want to season at this point; I needed to add a touch of salt and a few healthy cranks of black pepper. Let this cook for a few minutes to let all these flavors get acquainted. You don't want the mixture to get too dry, so adjust the heat as needed. After another 5 minutes or so, add the chops back in.

Let this cook a few minutes more, until the chops are the correct doneness and the consistency of the sauce is to your liking. You want the peppers to still have some snap to them; don't let them get mushy!

You could serve this with a starch of some kind, but I don't think it's necessary. Just have some good crusty bread and enjoy your one pot dinner. As for what to drink, there are lots of choices. If you make this reeeeeally spicy, you don't want anything with too much tannin. Assuming that you haven't made nuclear lamb chops though, I think that your best bet is some Aglianico.

Aglianico (pronounced ahl-YAH-nee-koh) is a grape grown primarily in Southern Italy. It's origins aren't known for sure, but it's believed to have originally come from Greece. You can find it in a number of different Southern wines, but the main two that you're likely to encounter in the US are Taurasi and Aglianico del Vulture.

Sometimes referred to as the "Barolos of the South," Taurasi and Aglianico del Vulture are produced on opposite sides of the dormant volcano Mt. Vulture, the former in Campagna and the latter in Basilicata (in fact it's the only DOCG wine from the region). The volcanic soil help to give these wines their character. These are big, bold reds, with lots of acidity and lots of tannins that can hold up to a considerable amount of aging. You can expect a lot of earth and spice on the palate, though in some instances (such as the bottle I opened for this meal), you can get something a little more fruit forward. Look for bottles from Mastroberardino for Taurasi, and Paternoster for Aglianico del Vulture. My first taste of this grape was in Asheville, NC, and that bottle would be a great choice as well:

It's a fairly distinctive label, too

And that's it! Thank you all for reading these past few months, it's been quite an experience and I hope that you enjoyed reading about it as much I did writing about it. While I didn't update nearly as frequently as I had originally planned, I hope that you all still got a decent picture of what I've been up to. I didn't get as much done as I'd have liked (if I had I couldn't in good conscience consider myself a graduate student), but I think that I have plenty to work on in the coming months. For those of you in Maryland, I'll be back on December 6th! And as for my Columbus friends, you can expect me back shortly after the new year, depending on the weather.

Pot Roast Italian Style: Brasato all'Amarone

Hello everyone! Sorry for yet another long delay between posts. I've been settling in for the last few weeks of my trip here in Rome, mostly trying to get some translation work done.

While the weather here is still pretty warm, it is definitely beginning to feel like Fall (even moreso back in Cassino, which is where I took the pictures for this post). To me, Fall is the time for hearty, slow cooking dishes--which also have the added benefit of keeping your kitchen roasty-toasty. To that end, I decided to make the northern Italian version of pot roast: Brasato all'Amarone.

As usual, mine did not turn out quite so pretty

This recipe isn't complicated, but it does have a fairly long list of ingredients, and you do need to start it a day in advance. Now, the traditional way to make this recipe would be with a bottle of Amarone wine, and a nice rump roast. I went in a slightly different direction, mainly out of necessity. First, Amarone is hideously expensive, even here in Italy. Perhaps if I lived in Venice I could find an affordable bottle, but I was not about to spend more than 30 Euro (on the low end!) on a bottle of wine that was going to be used for cooking. Instead, I went with a Valpolicella Ripasso, which is a close relative of Amarone.

I don't know whether this label is available in the US, but you should be able to find a Ripasso of some kind in most liquor stores.

These wines are prepared in a slightly different fashion, which is what helps to give this dish its distinctive flavor. The grapes used to make Amarone are allowed to shrivel substantially on the vine, partially turning them into raisins and concentrating their flavor. In a Valpolicella Ripasso--made from the same type of grapes as Amarone--the grape juice is poured over the crushed grape skins from Amarone, imparting some of that concentrated flavor. The best part is that a Ripasso will run you around $15 a bottle (though you could spend more), and you'll still get some of that Amarone flavor that would be absent from any other type of wine. I also used a different cut of meat. The meat selection at my local grocery store varied greatly from week to week, and most of the time they had no type of beef roasts whatsoever. I eventually settled for one labelled "Muscolo di Bovino"--Beef Muscle.

Presumably it could be found on this chart...somewhere

It worked out pretty well, though the meat was a bit dry when it was all said and done. The sauce, however, was incredible, making me confident that with the right cut of meat this would be a home run. Here are all the ingredients that you'll need: ~2lb rump roast (I used one about half this size, and I'm sure you could go a bit bigger without changing anything else), at least one bottle of Valpolicella Ripasso (You need a whole bottle for the cooking, and if you want wine to drink with dinner, you want to drink the same thing), 2 onions, 2 shallots, 2 carrots, 1 stalk of celery, whole cloves (I used 3), whole dried juniper berries (I used 7, and they should be available in the spice aisle), 1 bay leaf (I actually got to use fresh, but dried will work fine), 1 sprig of rosemary, ~1 tbsp butter, some flour, and of course salt, pepper, and olive oil. As I mentioned, you'll need to start this recipe a day in advance in order to give the meat plenty of time to marinate. I let it go a full 24 of hours and it was fine, so don't be afraid to give your roast a long soak. To begin, make all of your veggies and spices go from this...

to this.

Leave the clove whole, but crush the juniper berries a bit in your fingers.

Take all those lovely veggies and put them in a pot (or other container) with the entire bottle of wine, about a tbsp of olive oil, and the rump roast.

Cover, put it into the fridge, and walk away for a good long time, at the bare minimum overnight. When this mixture has had a nice long time to get acquainted, take out the beef, pat dry with some paper towels, and then dredge through some flour liberally salted and peppered. Brown the floured beef on all sides in a sautè pan/braiser/dutch oven (again, cast iron would be ideal here) in a little olive oil.

Once nicely browned, pour in the marinade with all the veggies and herbs. You don't want the meat to be completely submerged; somewhere around 3/4 of the way is probably ideal.

This would probably have been better with a larger cut of meat.

Bring the pot to a simmer, put on the lid, and then simmer for the next 3 hours. After the meat has cooked through, remove the roast from the pot. If you have an immersion blender now is the perfect time. If not, a fine sieve would work well too. I sadly had neither, and so had to make do with a colander. You want to pass this sauce through your sieve (or just blend it up), after having removed the bay leaf and the woody stalk from the rosemary. This should make your sauce nice and thick; if it's still too thin, you can add a bit of flour. Finally, add the butter to the sauce, and slice the roast into rounds and return it to the sauce. Taste to adjust the seasoning (you may need some more salt and pepper). Serve with a nice soft polenta, or some mashed potatoes. The sauce had a great herby, earthy flavor, with some brightness added by the menthol-y flavors of the bay leaf. As I mentioned earlier the meat wound up being a bit tough for me, but with a quality roast I seriously doubt this would be the case.

My sauce wasn't quite as silky smooth as I'd have liked, thanks to the lack of a sieve or blender, but it tasted damn good.

Seriously, give this a try this Fall/Winter. There are a lot of ingredients and you need to start the night before, but it's super simple in execution. I had to fudge so many things and I was still happy with it; imagine if you did it the right way!

Until next time!

Kings of Wines, Wines of Kings: Piemonte

Hello again readers! I've been doing quite a bit of grading for my class lately and, as any grad student knows, this is a task made much easier with a glass of wine in your hand. So, it seemed like a good time for a new wine post. Facebook also keeps reminding me that it's been seven years (groan...) since I was first in Italy during my semester abroad in Alba, a small town in the Piemonte region, near Torino. I thought I'd use this post to talk about the famous wines of this northern region, often considered to be the best in Italy.

Before Italy unified in the 1860s Piemonte was part of the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia, ruled from Torino (better known in English as Turin, of Shroud fame) by the House of Savoy. These Savoy kings would go on to unite Italy into the modern country (with the help of Count Cavour and General Garibaldi, of course), and for a brief time the new country was actually ruled from this northern capital.

Piemonte is home to a large number of DOC and DOCG wines, and several of these are considered among the best wines of the world (and certainly the most well-known). Along with Toscano and Veneto, it's one of the principal wine regions of the country (in terms of quality, if not in volume).. Let's start with the inspiration for the title of the post: Barolo.

The areas of Piemonte that have DOC and DOCG regulations

Often referred to as "the king of wines and the wine of kings" thanks to its popularity among the nobility of Savoy Torino, Barolo is the most well-known Piemontese wine, though in terms of volume it is extremely low. One of the first Italian wines to receive DOCG status, Barolo has a number of very strict production guidelines, including a lengthy aging period (38+ months, 18+ of which must be in wood barrels rather than the bottles) and a very limited geographic zone of production (as you can see above. The area is only 5 miles across at its widest point). Furthermore, the wine must be made of 100% Nebbiolo grapes. This grape is the most famous in Piemonte, and is also notoriously difficult to grow properly, budding early and ripening very late, and requiring a very dry climate just before harvest in late October. In addition to the difficulties in producing the wine, Barolo really needs to be aged for a significant amount of time after release to really be ready to drink, due to the very high levels of harsh tannins. A decade may be long enough, but the best vintages can hold up for much, much longer, half a century or more. These wines tend to be bold and intense, with lots of earthy notes along with some fruit, depending on the producer and the style. The stereotypical way to describe the aroma is "tar and roses". The small volume of production, need for long aging, and international reputation mean that Barolo doesn't come even remotely cheap; expect to spend at least $100 on a ready-to-drink bottle of the good stuff, and the sky is the limit from there. I honestly can't make a recommendation for what producer to try, as this is well outside of my price range (even here in Italy you won't find a decent bottle for under 50 euro), and quite frankly unless you are a real oenophile it's probably not worth the price of entry, except maybe as a display of conspicuous consumption to those around you. All that being said, while Barolo is undoubtedly the top dog in Piemonte, there are lots more choices that come with much less sticker shock, and much more value.

A glass and decanter of Barolo. Note the light color, which is a characteristic of the Nebbiolo grape.

If Barolo is the king of wines, then Barbaresco--a close relative--would be the queen. Produced in an even smaller zone just to the north and east of Barolo, Barbaresco shares a number of characteristics with its sibling. It too must adhere to strict geographic limitations (a zone even smaller than Barolo) and aging requirements (2 years total, at least 1 of which must be in the bottle), and it too must be 100% Nebbiolo. Compared to Barolo, Barbaresco tends to be more approachable at a much younger age. Though still very tannic, these tannins tend to soften years earlier, the tradeoff being that they won't be able to age for quite as long. It's all relative though; you still want a bottle with 5+ years on it generally speaking, and a good bottle will still hold up for about 20 years. As for cost, for the very best examples you would still need to spend hundreds. But, you can get an excellent bottle of "Produttori del Barbaresco" for $20-30. This bottling is made by several of the Barbaresco producers in concert with one another, rather than only being from a single estate. 2010 was a particularly excellent year for Nebbiolo grapes, and is just hitting the sweet spot now. It will hold up for another decade at least, as well. I've had this specific bottle before, and it's probably the best wine I've ever tried. Expect intense, spicy aromas, with a good amount of fruit along with more spice on the palate. I'd also recommend decanting (or at least uncorking the bottle and pouring a bit into a glass, to increase the surface area) for at least 2 hours before drinking, as this really lets the wine open up a bit. If you don't, the tannins can be overpowering.

The 2011 is also quite good, and the 2006 should be *superb*, if you can find it

In addition to these two powerhouses, you can also find wines simply named "Nebbiolo", made of the same grapes and often in the same locations as Barolo and Barbaresco, but that don't adhere to the same production guidelines. These wines are meant to be consumed much younger (within a few years of bottling, usually), and accordingly they tend to be much more fruit-forward and approachable. You may be asking yourself how much of the differences between these three Nebbiolo-based wines are based on snobbery and people with more money than sense. This is probably partly true, and consumer expectations certainly can shape the wines that get made. In addition, however, some grapes are much more susceptible than others to variations in geography and climate (referred to as terroir), and Nebbiolo happens to be one of those grapes. The Piemonte region also varies greatly over small distances, unsurprising given that is at the foot of the Alps.

Nebbiolo is hardly the only grape grown in Piemonte, even if it is used in the most famous wines. One of the local favorites of the region is Dolcetto, which translates to "little sweet one." Make no mistake though, the wine is definitely dry. This grape is typically grown on the less desirable areas of vineyards, where Nebbiolo would typically not thrive. The grape is much easier to grow, and the resulting wine much less fussy than those mentioned above. It is also much darker in color, much more purple than the brick reds of Nebbiolo wines. You can expect flavors of black fruits (think black cherry, raisin, prune, etc.), still with a healthy serving of tannins. Unlike Barolo or Barbaresco, these wines are definitely not meant to be aged, and you should be looking for bottles that are just a few years old. Expect to pay $13-20 for a bottle in the US. Dolcetto is easy to drink and fairly light, so don't overthink it. Order a pizza and drink up.

Compare this color to the Barolo above

The last of the major red varieties produced in Piemonte is Barbera. One of my personal favorites, Barbera is another varietal that is much more for everyday drinking rather than special occasions.  In some ways it's the opposite of Dolcetto: it has flavors of red fruits and berries instead of black fruits, and has pretty low tannins and high acidity, instead of higher tannins and low(ish) acidity. The high acidity means that it pairs well with lots of foods. It's planted in other regions of Italy as well, and is one of the highest volume grapes in the country. Unlike most other Piemonte grapes, it's also grown around the world, with excellent examples even from the East Coast of the US (try Woodhall's, from Maryland!). For a Barbera d'Alba or Barbera d'Asti, you can expect to spend $13-20, though you can spend much more if you want to.

In addition to these very well known reds, Piemonte produces several world-class white wines. The most famous of these is now simply known as "Asti", though you probably know it better as Asti Spumante. This is a sparkling wine similar in some ways to Champagne, though it gets its carbonation in a different manner. This wine is made from the Moscato grape, and is often made as a sweet dessert wine. Like many sparkling wines, Asti is generally produced as "non vintage," meaning that no year is indicated on the label. This means that the product is going to be pretty consistent, bottle to bottle, year after year. In the US, you'll find this bottle in almost any liquor store, for under $20 a bottle.

Related to Asti is a wine called Moscato d'Asti, also made from Moscato grapes and also generally a sweet wine. The biggest difference is the level of carbonation. Where Asti is very carbonated, Moscato d'Asti is known as "frizzante," fizzy. Think Coca Cola vs. San Pellegrino and you've got the idea. This can be quite a tasty wine, and much higher quality than much of the Moscato that occupies so much US shelf space. The "d'Asti" part is important, as this means that the wine is made in the Piemonte area and not just from the Moscato grape. Even Cupcake makes a Moscato d'Asti these days, so you don't have to break the bank for something authentic if you like sweet wines.

Just not this. NEVER THIS.

To finish up, I want to touch on a white wine that I discovered over the summer from Piemonte. Unlike the above two, this is a dry rather than a sweet wine, and it's produced a bit farther to the east in Piemonte. Before most of Italy's white wine for export came from the Veneto (as the overwhelming majority of Pinot Grigio in the US does), Gavi was the "standard" Italian white. I was pleasantly surprised when I tried it, as it was a nice change of pace from the now-typical Pinot Grigio. I found it to be a little more full-bodied (though not so much so as a Chardonnay), but still crisp and refreshing. I don't know how easy it may be to track down, but it's worth looking a bit.

That should do it! I hope to have a new food post up in the next couple days, and on Friday I'm off to Rome!. Thanks for reading.

The City of the Caesars and Sultans: Constantinople (aka Istanbul)

Hello everyone! I'm currently wrapping up my little vacation to Istanbul, so this seemed like a good time for a new history update. This is my second time here, and I had much more time to explore and really take in the city. I've been thinking quite a bit about the city as it used to be, i.e. Constantinople. Of course, thinking about Constantinople is part and parcel of being a Byzantinist, but it becomes much more real when you're actually standing in the "Queen of Cities" as it stands in the 21st century.

Human settlement in what is now Istanbul dates back thousands of years, as you would expect in such an important location. Situated on the straits of the Bosphorus--the thin channel of water separating mainland Europe from Asia Minor--the site has always had great value for regulating the trade between the Near East and the rest of the Mediterranean world, as well as controlling the only entrance to the Black Sea. In the 7th century BC, Greeks from the city of Megara founded Byzantion, which would be the name of the city for around 1000 years. Then, in 330 AD, Constantine changed everything.

A statue of Constantine in York, England, a one-time capital of the Roman Empire

In the early 4th century, the Roman Empire was a lot different than what you probably imagine. The time of Augustus was long gone, the Mediterranean world had been wracked by nearly a century of civil war and political usurpation, and the so-called "barbarians"--that is, anyone who lived outside the borders of the Empire--were pressing on the Roman frontiers to greater and greater effect. In the past many of the emperors had been politicians and even philosophers; now, only a soldier could be expected to hold onto the throne. In response to these problems--known as the "Crisis of the Third Century"--one of Constantine's predecessors, Diocletian, instituted massive reforms to the Roman system, including dividing the power of the emperor. Instead of a single emperor, Diocletian created a "college" of 4 emperors, who could more effectively govern the sprawling Imperium Romanorum.

This is the famous porphyry statue of the tetrarchs, which you may have seen if you've been to St. Mark's Basilica in Venice. It was looted from Constantinople in 1204 by the Venetians.

Each of these emperors would be responsible for a separate section of the empire, and each would rule from a city of their choosing (based on strategic importance, of course). The city of Rome was no longer the seat of the empire, and it took on a purely symbolic importance. Instead, the "capital" tended to be wherever the emperor based his court.

Not the best map, but you can see a number of these imperial capitals. Notice how there aren't any along the southern Mediterranean: that's because there weren't any invasions coming from that direction, thanks to a little thing called the Sahara Desert.

This system of tetrarchs worked by having the 2 senior emperors (the "Augusti") name their subordinates (the "Caesares"). When the senior emperor died, his junior would be elevated and then pick a new junior emperor, and so on and so forth. For a while this worked very well, and the problems of the Third Century became a thing of the past. Then, Constantius died in England while serving as the Augustus of the West. His Caesar should have taken his position, but Constantius' troops instead declared his son, Constantine, to be the new emperor. This was for all intents and purposes an illegal usurpation of power, and it set into motion a series of periodic civil wars that would last for nearly 20 years. When the dust settled, Constantine had eliminated all of the other members of the system of the tetrarchy, and the Roman Empire once again was under the rule of a single man. Shortly thereafter he set out to found a new capital--remember, Rome hadn't been strategically significant for decades (at least). He settled on the city of Byzantion, completely rebuilding the city in the process, and renaming it first Nova Roma, and eventually Constantinople (the city of Constantine). He also moved various artifacts from around the Roman world to his new capital in order to increase the prestige and beauty of the city (as did his successors), some of which can still be seen here today.

The Obelisk of Theodosius, which is actually an obelisk constructed by Thutmose III (15th century BC) perched atop a marble pedestal made during the reign of Theodosius (4th century AD). This was placed in the Hippodrome, the chariot racing circuit in Constantinople.

The Serpent Column, originally placed in front of the Delphic Oracle to commemorate the Greek victory over the Persian Empire at Plataea in 479 BC. Until fairly recently (the 17th century is recent when you're talking about ancient history) it's 3 heads were still attached, but now they're located in the city's archaeological museum. This is near the Obelisk, in the Hippodrome

At the time it wasn't clear that Constantinople would be anything more than a short-lived tetrarchic capital (the system had worked so well, why wouldn't it return after Constantine's death?), but as it turned out this would be the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire for over 1000 years, only to then become the capital of the Ottomans for more than 400 years more. As you may or may not know, the city continued to be called Constantinople (or Konstantiniyye, in Turkish) throughout the Ottoman period, and was only formally named Istanbul after the formation of the Turkish Republic in the 1920s. It was, after all, in the best interests of the Ottomans to identify their capital with the defeat and capture of the former Roman Empire.

Since the name change, Constantinople is generally only used in reference to the song, much to the chagrin of Byzantinists around the world (as well as the Greeks)

The city's location meant that it would always be very strategically important, and the Roman Emperors created an incredible system of defense to ensure that it would remain in their hands indefinitely. The walls constructed by Constantine were rendered obsolete in less than 100 years, but the new walls of the 5th century would stand unbreached for 1000 years, until the advent of gunpowder in European warfare. Even then, it took one of the largest cannons ever fired (with a caliber of over 600mm) to breach these formidable defenses. It's hard to overstate how incredible these walls were; they were so well constructed that when there was an earthquake in 1999, the original sections of the wall were undamaged while the recently restored parts collapsed. Not bad for 1500 year old technology.

The shape of the peninsula made Constantinople a tough nut to crack. There were formidable sea walls on the sea of Marmara, a chain guarding the natural harbor of the Golden Horn (plus more sea walls), and a nigh-impenetrable system of defense by land

The land defenses as they would have looked in the Middle Ages. First a moat, then a shorter wall with towers, then a MASSIVE wall with even more towers. All the ramparts would have been filled with soldiers shooting arrows and throwing other projectiles at you as well, of course.

What's left of the walls today, with the modern restorations of course.

Such defenses were necessary, as the city would be subjected to siege after siege, about once every 50 years starting in the early 7th century. While much of the city's Roman elements have been lost as a result of the 4th crusade in 1204 as well as the Ottoman period from the 15th-20th centuries, there are still some impressive remnants to be seen. At the top of the list is the Hagia Sophia, the Church of Holy Wisdom, constructed by Emperor Justinian in the 530s. For the next 1000 year, it would be the Christian church in the world. After the Ottoman conquest it became a mosque, until it was turned into a museum in the 1930s.

The minarets are obviously an Ottoman addition

It's hard to get a sense of the scale, but this place is HUGE

One of the more famous aspects of the building was the dome, which was said to appear to be suspended from heaven when the light hit it properly. You can get a sense of this at the very top of this picture.

Most of the Byzantine decorations are either destroyed or covered up (as Islam prohibits figural representations in their places of worship), but some can still be seen. This is one of the seraphim, the highest order of angels who protect the throne of God. They have 3 pairs of wings, 1 for flying and the remainder to shield their body.

Various mosaics remain as well, this being one of the most famous

While in the Middle Ages Constantinople was covered in churches, today there isn't much left to see outside of the Hagia Sophia; most of them were converted into mosques and remain as such today. There are exceptions of course (Google "Chora Museum" to see the best mosaics that remain in the city, or "St. Mary of the Mongols" to see the only church that existed in the 15th century, was never converted into a mosque, and remains a church today), but a great deal of the Byzantine city--especially the parts that were still in use in the 15th century--is gone forever. Modern archaeology has uncovered some real gems though, such as the mosaic floor of the palace used in the 6th century:

Speaking of palaces, the Ottoman palaces are some of the best preserved elements of the city's second imperial phase (unsurprising, since this phase ended less than 100 years ago). The old palace of the Ottomans is known as Topkapi, and parts of it date back to immediately after the conquest in 1453. It covers a large area of the oldest parts of the city, where the old Byzantine imperial structures once stood. Today it serves as a museum, and houses a number of interesting pieces of Ottoman art and military technology.

It's a pretty huge complex...

...and the view from the innermost parts is phenomenal

Other parts of Early Modern Istanbul that survive can be found around the city, such as inside some of the mosques and especially in the Grand Bazaar and Spice Markets, which you really have to see to understand. By the 19th century though, these aspects of the Ottoman Empire, and especially Topkapi Palace, were increasingly seen as old-fashioned and out of touch with the rest of European society. As such, Sultan Abdülmecid decided to build Dolmabahçe Palace, across the Golden Horn from the oldest parts of the city. Unlike Topkapi this palace was thoroughly European, and built to rival anything in the West.

The largest chandelier in the palace, gifted by Queen Victoria

Bearskin rugs, a gift of Tsar Nicholas II

The opulence is INSANE

I think that should do it for this update. It's hard to sum up a city like Istanbul in a blog post; it's really a special place that needs to be seen to be understood. Tomorrow I'm back in Cassino, and in two weeks I'l be off to Rome! Thanks for reading.