At the table of Aeëtes, son of the Sun, the meal follows the order of the great heroic Greek deipnon, but overflowing with Colchian abundance. It begins with the grains of the black earth of the Phasis—millet porridge and barley cakes—then come meats and poultry roasted on the spit, game from the forests of Ares. The feast continues with libations: wine is poured on the ground for the gods before drinking, and honey cakes are consecrated to Helios, the ancestor who guides the chariot of the day. No French-style starter or dessert: everything unfolds in a single flow, from the humblest grain to the cup raised to the sky.

The walnut tree has grown wild in the valleys of the Caucasus since the dawn of time—Colchis is one of its birthplaces. Pounded into a smooth paste, married with herbs or honey, the walnut binds sauces, nourishes the traveler, and perfumes the royal table. It is the rich, woody soul of the cuisine of Aia, the distant ancestor of Georgian walnut sauces.