In Homer's world, meals were not served in successive courses as in France: they shared a *dais*, the communal feast that followed the sacrifice. Each guest received an equal portion (the *moïra*), distributed by the master of the meal. Around the campfire, they grilled the meat, broke the barley cake (*maza*), poured wine mixed with water, and threw the first portion into the waves for the sea gods. The Greek sailor's meal was simple, salty, perfumed with oil and honey, governed by what the sea chose to give — or swallow.

Everything here comes from salt: the salt that stings the lips of rowers, the salt that preserves fish for the long voyage, the salt that Charybdis churns as she swallows the waves three times a day. Salting is wrenching from the sea what it would take back — the signature technique of the fishermen of the Strait of Messina.