Professor Butter Beard and Hadrian
All happiness is a masterpiece: the slightest mistake distorts it, the slightest hesitation alters it, the slightest heaviness disparages it, the slightest foolishness fools it.
- Marguerite Yourcenar, “Memoirs of Hadrian”
I step inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And breathe it in. I am home.
The journey begins with a sunrise train ride along the coast of New Jersey. Arrival in Penn Station brings with it an energy that exists nowhere else for me. A pulse. A rhythm as the herds travel up the staircase into the maze of Penn Station. Tripping over tourists who really should invest in human brake lights. My feet follow their known path to the escalator leading upward to 7th Avenue where the song of New York explodes into its own exhilarating symphony. I bypass the line and jump into the street to hail a cab and nestle into the backseat for the Disney roller coaster ride towards Central Park. I jump out at 81st and Central Park West and meander through the meadows past the Delacorte until I see the top of Cleopatra’s Needle and then my soul explodes into a grateful smile.
Membership has its perks – I bypass the long lines and walk right up to claim my sticker tab for the day. Oh, how I miss the pins! I know I must say my hellos to Vermeer and Vincent, Hatshepsut and the Morgan Madonna, but my body instinctively turns left and leads me directly into Greek and Roman heaven. I wink to my Cycladic Harpist, my Kouros, and aim directly towards the Temple of Artemis column that stands guard over the atrium of my dreams.
I nod to the two Hercules battling each other in a staring contest between the wishing well. And then I see him. My best Met friend and confident – the emperor Hadrian.
Of all the Roman emperors, Hadrian is the one whose portrait is most frequently found across the empire from Britain to Persia, from Asia Minor to Egypt. Among all his known bust portraits, this example, dating from c. 118 CE, most perfectly conveys the complex character of an emperor who inherited the Roman world at its greatest extent from his fellow Spaniard Trajan. Hadrian traveled widely, visiting most of the provinces during the twenty-one years of his reign, and commissioned buildings, aqueducts, and roads that still stand in many cities. Citizens responded to Hadrian’s generosity by erecting numerous statues in his honor, and after his death they revered him as a god.
Hadrian’s portraits are captivating in a number of ways. First, they follow the portraits of Trajan by representing the emperor as a never-aging adult. Hadrian became emperor at the age of forty-one and is depicted that age in all his portraits, even those that were commissioned just before his death. His marble skin is agelessly smooth. There are no deep worry lines in his forehead and no creases or battle scars mar his glowing cheeks. His knowing eyes, some of the first to have sculpted irises and pupils, look deep within you, telepathically communicating with your mind. His powerful head is covered with a mane of youthful curls, but even more significant, Hadrian wears a full, but expertly manicured, beard.
He was the first Roman emperor to do so. There are those that believe Hadrian wore a beard to hide a poor complexion, and there may be some truth to the gossip. But according to most historians, it is even more likely that Hadrian wore a beard as a “Greek affection.” Beards were known to be worn by the Greek poets, philosophers and statesmen of the past. It is written that Hadrian wore a beard in life and in his portraits because he aspired to be “the Greekling,” with a mind directly descended from Socrates, Plato, Callinus and Aristotle.
Every Roman emperor since Hadrian, with the exception of the boy emperors, wore a beard. The introduction of the emperor’s beard had art historical consequences as well because a provided a new facial texture for artists to explore. Sculptors enthusiastically embraced the challenge of playing off the texture and curls of the beard and hair against the softness of the smooth flesh. And the results were often virtuoso performances. Experts agree that some of the finest Roman portraits date from the Hadrianic and Antonine periods.
The baking artist in me was also inspired this week by the texture and curls of Hadrian’s memorable mane and beard. I reinterpreted them into crisp and buttery Hazelnut Palmiers. The layers of puff pastry are spread with a chocolate hazelnut Nutella and freshly toasted hazelnuts, adding both salty and sweet components. Baked to a crackling crispness, they are perfect with morning coffee and afternoon tea. I may even pack a few for my next coastal train ride and lunch with my favorite bearded emperor.
Hazelnut Palmiers
2 ½ dozen cookies
1 box (two sheets) frozen puff pastry sheets (I use Pepperidge Farm)
1 ½ cups roasted hazelnuts
1 tsp fine sea salt
2 tsp granulated sugar (with more to dust the rolling surface and sprinkle over the unbaked cookies)
1 cup Nutella (chocolate hazelnut spread)
1) Thaw the frozen puff pastry in your refrigerator overnight.
2) In a food processor, pulse together the roasted hazelnuts, the salt and 2 tsp granulated sugar into a coarse chop – do not go too far into a powder!
3) Sprinkle your rolling surface with granulated sugar and roll the first sheet of puff pastry into an 18” by 14” rectangle. Spread a thin layer of Nutella over the rolled dough. Sprinkle half the hazelnuts over the Nutella layer and lightly roll them in with your rolling pin.
4) Roll the long sides tightly inward until they meet in the middle. Transfer the log to a parchment lined sheet and then repeat with the second sheet of puff.
5) Refrigerate the logs for 30 minutes while your oven heats to 400 degrees.
6) Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
7) Remove one log and slice in ¾” pieces. Lay the sliced cookies cut side up on the parchment and sprinkle the tops again with sugar. Repeat with the second log onto the second sheet.
8) Bake the cookies, one sheet at a time, for 15-18 minutes until puffed and golden brown.
9) Cool the cookies on the sheet pan for five minutes then remove them to wire rack to cool completely.
10) The cookies are best eaten the day they are baked.
