our own dear "From Soup to Nuts."...
Then we arrive at the comforting conclusion that we moderns are either
very ancient and backward or that indeed the ancients are very modern
and progressive; and it is our only regret that we cannot decide this
perplexing situation to our lasting satisfaction.
Very true, there may be nothing new under the sun, yet nature goes on
eternally fashioning new things from old materials. Eternally
demolishing old models in a manner of an economical sculptor, nature
uses the same old clay to create new specimens. Sometimes nature
slightly alters the patterns, discarding what is unfit for her
momentary enigmatic purposes, retaining and favoring that which
pleases her whimsical fancy for the time being.
Cookery deals exclusively with nature's works. Books on cookery are
essentially books on nature's actions and reactions.
In the perpetual search for perfection, life has accomplished one
remarkable thing: the development of man, the animal which cooks.
Gradually nature has revealed herself to man principally through the
food he takes, cooks and prepares for the enjoyment of himself and his
fellow men.
THE COOKING ANIMAL
The gastronomer is the highest development of the cooking animal.
He--artist, philosopher, metaphysician, religionist--stands with his
head bared before nature: overawed, contemplating her gifts, feasting
his eyes on beauteous forms and colors, inhaling intoxicating
fragrances, aromas, odors, matching them all artistically, partaking
only of what he needs for his own subsistence--eternally marveling at
nature's inexhaustible resources and inventiveness, at her everlasting
bounty born of everlasting fierce struggles.
The gastronomer is grateful for the privilege of holding the
custodianship of such precious things, and he guards it like an office
of a sacred rite--ever gratefully, reverently adoring, cherishing the
things before him ... ever marveling ... ever alone, alone with
nature.
As for the overwhelming majority of the cooking animals, they behave
much more "naturally." They are a merry crowd, ever anticipating a
good time, ever jolly, eager, greedy. Or, they are cranky, hungry,
starved, miserable, and they turn savage now and then. Some are
gluttonous. Many contract indigestion--nature's most subtle
punishment.
If they were told that they must kill before they may cook--that might
spoil the appetite and dinner joy of many a tender-hearted devourer
|