-- by Alastair Sutherland
From a Portland Oregon alternative newspaper
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.
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