Sartre does a cookbook

>> Distributed by Kevin Martin (kbmartin@husc.harvard.edu 
>> > 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.  Aparently 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 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 more and 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.
>> > 
>> > 
>> > Marty Smith
>> > "Free Agent" March 1987 (a Portland Oregon alternative newspaper)
>> > Republished in the *Utne Reader* Nov./Dec. 1993