The sundial at the center of the room marks the passage of time, guiding us through the eating habits of ancient Herculaneans—from modest street meals to lavish banquets in wealthy homes. As today, their day was divided into three main meals: a light breakfast, a quick lunch usually eaten outside the home, and a richer dinner, which in the most luxurious residences could become an opulent feast.
The first meal of the day was the jentaculum, breakfast, consumed between the third and fourth hour of the day (around 8–9 a.m.). It could be simple—a glass of goat’s milk or flavored water, accompanied by bread dipped in wine or garlic sauce. The wealthier citizens enhanced this first meal with dried fruits, olives, cheeses, eggs, and even meat, clear indicators of high social status.
At midday, around the sixth or seventh hour, came the prandium, a quick and often cold meal. Most people enjoyed it on the go, at tabernae or popinae—crowded and lively eateries similar to modern fast food joints—where vegetables, fish, legumes, mushrooms, and cheeses were served. It was a spartan meal, eaten mostly standing, without frills or formality, though those who could afford it would find a place to sit on simple benches and tables.
But it was dinner that truly embodied conviviality and luxury, especially in wealthier homes, where in the triclinia (dining rooms), lit by the warm glow of candelabras and oil lamps, guests would take part in sumptuous banquets. Dinner usually began around 3 or 4 p.m. and ended at sunset, though on special occasions it could go on late into the night. Reclining on couches arranged in a horseshoe around a lavishly set table, guests would indulge in an elegant succession of courses served by attentive slaves.
The meal opened with appetizers (gustatio), where eggs, olives, shellfish, and spiced sauces were accompanied by mulsum, a honey-sweetened wine. These were followed by the main courses (primae mensae), which might include elaborate roasts, spiced meatballs, and fried anchovy pies, before concluding with desserts and fruit (secundae mensae)—figs, dates, and sweets made with honey and dried fruit.
The atmosphere of the banquets was enriched with music, dancing, and juggler performances. At the center of the table might stand a mysterious and evocative object: the larva convivialis, a miniature skeleton made of bronze or silver, a memento mori reminding guests of the fleeting nature of life. Far from being morbid, this small figure was an invitation, in the spirit of the Greek philosopher Epicurus, to enjoy life’s pleasures: carpe diem, for life is short and should be lived to the fullest—savoring every bite with gratitude and every moment with joy.
The tables were set with ceramic and silver dishes, bronze or glass pitchers, and various utensils, the quality of which reflected the differing economic statuses of Herculaneum’s citizens.
This room tells stories of everyday life, revealing the contrasts in dietary habits between the rich and the poor. Observing the modern photographs on the walls, we are reminded that, despite the passing centuries, the joy of sharing a meal remains unchanged: the morning coffee, a quick lunch break, dinner at home with family, or out with friends. Just like the ancient Herculaneans, we too continue to celebrate food as a social ritual—an opportunity to be together and enjoy life.