Friends, Romans, Countrymen,
lend us your mouths.
We come not to bury Gastronauts,
but to praise them!

This month of August marks an august occasion: Some eight or so years and 99 dinners ago, five brave souls joined us in the dead of winter to eat intestines in the back of a Malaysian restaurant. Since then, we’ve grown a bit, having dined on everything from eyeballs to pigs feet. And each month we try to come up with something new and special. But to celebrate our 100th dinner, we knew no ordinary dinner would do. And so we pondered: what could possible be worthy of such an auspicious occasion? We studied the flight of swallows, consulted the entrails of sheep (they were delicious), and asked the oracles. And then they spoke to us: Only a meal of Augustinian proportions would do.

We grabbed our Apicus cookbook — the only link to Roman cooking that exists — and ran to our favorite Italian chef (well, Italianate): Franny’s master of pizza, pasta, and charcuterie John Adler — he of Per Se and Stone Barns training. And thus Johnastinius went to work, descending into a crypt beneath the streets of Brooklyn to immerse himself in the secrets of Roman cookery, designing an entirely off-the-menu orgy of offal for the Gastronauts centenary dinner.

To say that this meal is special is an understatement of Herculean proportions. There will be stuffed squid with calves’ brains, boiled rabbit, sweet blood pudding, and roasted pigs’ heads — and that’s but four of the twelve dishes. And since no feast would be complete without the fruit of the vine, we’re bringing in our very own sommelier to pair wines using ancient Italian varietals. If the Romans of the late empire spared no expense, then neither shall we.
This is the dinner we’ve been waiting to do for, well, about 99 months. Grapes will be fed to you. Togas will be worn (and shed). Gladiatorial combat may or may not occur.

You really, really don’t want to miss this one. Yes, it’s a bit pricey — but we promise a truly memorable, extravagant feast. If you need to, eat Cup O’ Noodles all next week, but make this your late-summer splurge. We’ll be talking about it for years.