The summer sun beats down on the silent stones of Pompeii, but in the cool shadows beneath its ash-crumbled facades, something remarkable stir.
A fresco, a bed, a shrine, skeletons of those who sought refuge—all these are not relics in textbooks, but living whispers of lives abruptly interrupted nearly 2,000 years ago. In Pompeii, Italy, new excavations are revealing more than just ruins—they are uncovering complex stories of food, faith, wealth, and tragedy.
Discovering The Ordinary And The Extraordinary Side By Side
When archaeologists returned to a neighborhood (or insula) on Via di Nola, first partially explored in the 19th century, they expected to find artifacts typical of Roman life. What they didn’t expect was how vivid and poignant those findings would be.
There is a bakery oven capable of producing up to 100 loaves of bread a day, hinting at a kind of wholesale bakery. Nearby, a kitchen shrine decorated with coiling yellow serpents stands against a rich, burnt-burgundy background. A mattress—charred and crumpled—lies in a bedroom.
And, tragically, skeletons of two women and a child who tried to find safety under a staircase, only to be crushed when the staircase collapsed during Vesuvius’s eruption, give a human weight to what might otherwise feel remote.
Yet perhaps the most widely discussed item is a fresco: a still-life painting showing a flat bread on a silver platter, fruit, possibly dates or pomegranate, and a wine goblet set against a dark background. To many, it resembles pizza. To experts, it is something else—but no less fascinating.
Not Pizza, But A Story Of Food, Hospitality, And Transformation
Tomatoes and mozzarella, which today define the flavor of pizza, were unknown in the kitchens of ancient Rome, arriving many centuries later from far-off lands.
The recently uncovered bakery, with its tools and large oven, suggests that the flatbread depicted in the fresco was much closer to focaccia than modern pizza.
It may have been garnished with fruits such as pomegranate or dates, blended herbs, or an early type of pesto. The food is shown resting on a silver tray, accompanied by a fine cup of wine—an arrangement that recalls the classical custom of offering guests food and drink as a sign of hospitality.
Archaeologists have observed that this fresco beautifully captures the transformation of something humble into something refined.
The contrast between the modest bread and the luxury of the serving ware illustrates how ordinary food could be elevated to a symbol of elegance, much like the evolution of pizza itself—from a simple meal of the poor in southern Italy to a dish celebrated in high-end restaurants across the world.
More Than Art—Fragile Lives And Unexpected Narratives
Amid decorations and preserved food imagery, the dig also reveals stories of daily existence and tragedy. The mattress in the bedroom, for example, and the skeletons found nearby, are vivid reminders that these were not just containers of art and architecture—they held people, hopes, routines. One family might have taken refuge under stairs, another fled from collapsing roofs.
These human snapshots are preserved, sometimes precisely because of the disaster. The volcanic ash, heat, and collapse stripped away so much—but it also sealed many details in place: the bed frames, tools, everyday objects, and even the position in which those who died were found. Each discovery adds texture to the scenes of Pompeii’s final day.
What These Treasures Teach Us—And Why They Matter
These findings are remarkable not just for what they are, but for what they show us about human continuity: how people centuries ago ate, buried their dead, worshipped, coped with scale and danger, and sought comfort.
- Food and ritual are entwined. The flatbread/focaccia image offers clues not only about diet, but social identity—how food can both satisfy hunger and express hospitality, status, and tradition.
- Wealth and display endure. Silver trays, elaborate frescoes, serpent shrines—these speak to people with means, who built homes both functional and aesthetically rich.
- Daily tragedy lurks beneath luxury. Skeletons, collapsed stairs, the abrupt end of life remind us that disasters do not discriminate, and survivors, and victims, share the soil of history.
- Preservation vs conservation. Many treasures remain unexcavated; many already uncovered need protection. Researchers express concern about conserving what has been found, so future generations can further refine our understanding.
Peering Into The Future: What Is Still To Come
Regio IX, the area of recent exploration, still holds secrets. Houses, shops, frescoed rooms, and even neighborhoods beneath the ash remain partially unexplored. Archaeologists are using newer techniques—plaster casting, laser scanning, precise excavation—to minimize damage and maximize insight. The hope is that emerging technologies will reveal more than ever before.
In The End
In Pompeii, Italy, the border between ancient and modern seems thinner than we often imagine. A flatbread on a silver plate might look like pizza. A broken shrine, snakes carved, fresh fruit depicted—familiar. Yet these are artifacts, snapshots from a past that ended violently, but which continues teaching us about food, faith, humanity, and loss.
And even if that “pizza” never had tomato or mozzarella, perhaps that is not the point. The point is that people then expressed beauty, ritual, daily life, and loss in ways that echo our own. These discoveries bring hope—hope that we can remember, learn from, and preserve stories that otherwise might be forgotten beneath ash.
Sources:
Reuters
Popular Science
Smithsonian Magazine
Good News Network
