If you think stuffed dates are a modern Instagram snack, the ancient Romans would laugh you out of the forum. Dulcia Domestica is one of the oldest recorded stuffed desserts in the Western world, a sticky, honey-drizzled treat straight from the kitchens of the Roman Empire. Senators, soldiers, gladiators—everyone with a sweet tooth knew this was the good stuff.

The earliest version of the recipe comes from Apicius, the oldest surviving Roman cookbook, written somewhere around the 4th or 5th century CE. It’s credited to Marcus Gavius Apicius, the empire’s most famous foodie, a man rumored to have blown his entire fortune chasing luxury ingredients. Whether he personally invented Dulcia Domestica is debatable, but it absolutely fits his vibe: dates stuffed with roasted nuts, kissed with salt, drenched in honey, and finished with a sprinkle of pepper. Simple ingredients, decadent results.

This wasn’t everyday breakfast fare. You’d find these glossy, sticky dates at the end of a convivium—a Roman banquet where the wealthy showed off with theatrical food, overflowing wine, and reclining couches. Think of it as a flex, a final “sweet mic drop” after hours of feasting. They also appeared during Saturnalia, Rome’s winter festival where rules flipped upside down, gifts were exchanged, and sugar flowed a little more freely.

Some historians believe treats like this were even given to gladiators or victorious athletes. And honestly? It tracks. Dates, nuts, honey—fat, carbs, protein, sugar. The perfect ancient energy bar. If you survived a match in the Colosseum, you definitely earned dessert.

In Rome, fruit and honey were prized ingredients, so a dish like Dulcia Domestica signaled luxury. It captured everything Romans adored—pleasure, richness, drama. And it stuck around. You can still see echoes of it in modern Middle Eastern and Mediterranean cuisines, from nut-filled dates in Morocco to honeyed pastries across the Levant.

The original Apicius recipe is short and blunt, like most ancient cooking instructions:

Take pitted dates and stuff them with roasted nuts—pine nuts or walnuts. Add a little salt. Drizzle with honey. If you want, sprinkle in pepper.

That’s it. No measurements. No times. No temperatures. Just a blueprint for something delicious. Modern versions often bake or panfry the stuffed dates to caramelize the honey, but at its heart, Dulcia Domestica is exactly what the Romans loved: sweet, simple, and timeless.

So the next time you taste a honeyed date, picture a Roman reclining on a couch, savoring the same flavors nearly two thousand years ago. Dessert, it turns out, is eternal.