Exploring composers’ lives through the lens of gastronomy has proven to be an intriguing challenge. It seems that what they ate or drank was rarely considered worth mentioning—perhaps because food was seen as too mundane, too essential to daily survival to be noteworthy.  

What is particularly curious is the lack of detailed accounts from composers themselves or those around them. Despite the many letters, memoirs, and salon anecdotes that have survived, very few include references to specific dishes or drinks. Even descriptions of lavish gatherings tend to focus on the people and conversations rather than the meals themselves.  

Yet, paradoxically, this scarcity of information has made my research all the more fascinating. The habits, preferences, and peculiarities surrounding composers and food offer a unique perspective on how they lived and worked. Each small discovery adds an extra layer to our understanding of their world.  

 Why This Research Matters: Historical, Cultural, and Personal Connections  

Food is one of the most universal human experiences—it connects people across time, cultures, and social circles. We gather around food to converse, to celebrate, to mourn. Since we must all eat, why not do it together? This idea has long shaped my approach to gastronomy.  

Many of the great intellectual and artistic minds of the 19th century gathered at dinner tables hosted by composers. These were more than just meals; they were spaces where ideas flourished, where art and philosophy intertwined with culinary refinement. Given their keen intellects and sophisticated tastes, it is likely that many composers had a deep appreciation for fine food and drink.  

But what exactly did they eat? How can we reconstruct their culinary preferences? And is it really true that Satie only ate white foods? That claim, often repeated, seems highly improbable—especially considering he wrote it in a somewhat humorous essay. Given his frequent presence in Montmartre’s taverns, it’s hard to imagine he subsisted solely on rice and milk. This is why historical food traditions must be examined critically rather than taken at face value.  

What started as a small idea two years ago—to write about the eating habits of composers—has now grown into a broader study of European gastronomic history. And that, I must admit, is no small undertaking.  

 Key Findings So Far  

The first conclusion I can confidently draw is that most 19th-century composers remained loyal to the cuisines of their upbringing. This aligns with the broader cultural trend of nationalism, which strongly influenced Romantic music.  

– German and Eastern European composers tended to favor beer and locally produced wines.  

– The French remained devoted to their celebrated gastronomy, accompanied by Burgundy and Bordeaux wines.  

– The Russians enjoyed dishes such as borscht and blini, often accompanied by tea from a samovar—or, for stronger occasions, vodka.  

A second conclusion is that, despite their attachment to national cuisines, composers and performers were exposed to an incredibly wide range of flavors through their extensive travels. Their journeys across Europe must have introduced them to new ingredients, culinary techniques, and dining customs, enriching their experiences in ways we can only speculate about.  

 How Music and Gastronomy Influenced Each Other  

Bit by bit, I am beginning to paint a clearer picture of composers’ eating habits—not only in terms of what they ate but also in how these meals shaped their creative and social lives. Many compositions were born in taverns, sketched onto napkins or even shirt-sleeves.  

The music performed in these lively settings often left its mark on composers. Traditional folk and tavern music inspired works that would later be immortalized in classical form. The Ländler, for instance, found its way into the music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert—its rustic charm transformed into something deeply personal yet universally resonant.  

This connection between food, music, and culture is something I am eager to explore further. There is still much to uncover, but one thing is certain: the dinner tables of composers were not just places to eat but spaces where art, conversation, and inspiration intertwined.