The Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook
We were lucky enough to discover several previously lost diaries of
French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre for sale at the Farmers' Market.
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. Do not try this at home.
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 very 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 this 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 ever more frustated.
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.
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Liza May
Email: [log in to unmask]
phone:(301)261-0555 fax:(410)451-6105
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