Fire, for the ancient Romans, was ignis, which was lit in the focus (fireplace) and often surrounded by altars to the family gods. The focus was the sacred centre of the house. Such was its significance that the word became synonymous with home, family and, eventually, fire itself: fuoco. It also gave rise to new words: focolare, which means stove, and focacce, or breads cooked on the hearth.
I wished for a hearth a few months back when, while attempting to recreate the colour-soaked focaccia fresco that emerged in June during excavations in Pompeii, I made an ancient hearth bread that served as a symbolic plate. Not possessing a hearth, I fired off messages. Help arrived with a beep: did I have a baking stone or a loose terracotta floor tile? While I do have several loose tiles, I resisted pulling one up and instead cooked the dough in a terracotta dish. Months on, and I continue to receive messages and advice, and not just about baking. Apparently, as well as flour, my ancient focaccia could include wine, cider, sheep, cow or goat’s milk, ricotta, olive oil, date syrup or honey, and be large or small, leavened or unleavened.
