[655] in Humor
HUMOR: Cooking with Sartre
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (clineja@MIT.EDU)
Tue Jan 10 15:14:38 1995
From: clineja@MIT.EDU
Date: Tue, 10 Jan 95 15:10:10 -0500
To: humor@MIT.EDU
From: Seth T Rodgers <strodger@MIT.EDU>
From: "Dan Ahern" <dahern@esri.com>
From: Sarah Schuster <schuster@gizmo.usc.edu>
From ROHRBAUG@humnet.ucla.edu Mon Jan 9 13:47:37 1995
>
>
> The Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook
> by Alastair Sutherland
> from Free Agent March 1987 (a Portland Oregon alternative newspaper)
> Republished in the Utne Reader Nov./Dec. 1993
>
> We have been lucky to discover several previously lost diaries of French
> philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre stuck in between the cushions of our office
> sofa. These diaries reveal a young Sartre obsessed not with the void,
> but with food. Apparently Sartre, before discovering philosophy had
> hoped to write "a cookbook that will put to rest all notions of flavor
> forever." The diaries are excerpted here for your perusal.
>
> October 3
>
> Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has never actually
> eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home immediately to begin
> work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
>
> October 4
>
> Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling blocks. I keep
> creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea,
> but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone. I want to create an omelet
> that expresses the meaninglessness of existence, and instead they taste
> like cheese. I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back.
> Tried eating them with the lights off. It did not help. Malraux
> suggested paprika.
>
> October 6
>
> I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is
> bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of cigarettes, some coffee, and
> four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I am encouraged, but
> my journey is still long.
>
> October 10
>
> I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional
> dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely.
> Today I tried this recipe:
>
> Tuna Casserole Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
>
> Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a chair facing the oven
> and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry you are. When night
> falls, do not turn on the light. While a void is expressed in the
> recipe, I am struck by its inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle.
> How can the eater recognize that the food denied him is a tuna casserole
> and not some other dish? I am becoming more and more frustrated.
>
> October 25
>
> I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire
> cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself,
> embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as
> providing the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the four
> basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of
> foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen,
> refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks of work, I produced a
> recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and
> a leek. While this is a start, I am afraid I still have much work ahead.
>
> November 15
>
> Today I made a Black Forest cake out of five pounds of cherries and a
> live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word cake. I was
> very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but could not stay for
> dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement yet,
> and have resolved to enter it in the Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
>
> November 30
>
> Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not go as I had
> hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty
> Crocker on the wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling
> blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to say, more
> than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite homemaker. I
> only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of a rather nasty
> lawsuit.
>
> December 1
>
> I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two months, and I am
> now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so fat. My pain and
> ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I was thin,
> but seem to impress girls far less. From now on, I will live on
> cigarettes and black coffee.
>
