With writing and reading, the experience of feeding oneself and
one's family expanded to partaking in the experience of food
preservation and sharing. French Assyriologist Jean Bottero read
recipes, in cuneiform writing on clay tablets from around 1700
BCE, for food cooked at important occasions for people in power.
That this was "cuisine of striking richness, refinement,
sophistication, and artistry" should not necessarily impress us
here. But the description of the ingredients, some no longer
known or in use, of the sequence, and the context (celebration)
deserve attention: "Head, legs and tail should be singed. Take
the meat. Bring water to boil. Add fat. Onions, samidu, leeks,
garlic, some blood, some fresh cheese, the whole beaten
together. Add an equal amount of plain suhutium." This is a stew
of kid, a meal for an exceptional occasion.
The pragmatic framework that made this cooking possible also made
writing possible and necessary. Over time, this connection
became even closer. Between the experiences of language and that
of eating and drinking, a continuum of interactions can be
noticed. Language distinctions pertinent to the practical
experience of cultivating plants, taking care of animals,
processing milk, and seasoning food expanded from satisfying
needs to creating desires associated with taste. New knowledge is
stimulated by experiences different from nourishment, such as
new forms of work (cooking included), use of new resources, new
tools, and new skills. And so is the expression of logic in the
act of preparing, serving, and eating the food. On reading a book
of recipes from the Tiberian era of the Roman Empire-De Re
Culinaria (The Art of Cooking, attributed to Gaelius Apicius)
and De Re Rustica (by Cato)-one can discern how things have
changed over 1600 years. Apicius expressed many distinctions in
foods and in ways of cooking and eating. He also expressed a
certain concern for health. "Digging one's grave with one's
teeth," as the expression came to life in connection with
gluttony (crisp tongues of larks, dormice marinated in honey,
tasty thighs of ostrich are listed), was replaced by elaborate
recipes to relieve an upset stomach or to facilitate digestion.
The books do not say what everyone ate, and there are reasons to
believe that there was quite a difference between the menu of
slaves and that of their owners. Advances in identifying plants
and in processing food go in tandem with advances in medicine.
Writings from other parts of the world, especially China, testify
to similar developments.
It was already remarked, by no other than Roland Barthes, that
the two basic language systems-one based on ideographic writing,
the second on the phonetic convention-put their characteristic
stamp on the menus of the Far Eastern and Western civilizations.
A Japanese menu is an expression of a configuration. One can
start with any of the dishes offered simultaneously. Combinations
are allowed. Eating is part of the Japanese culture, a practical
experience of self-constitution with strong visual components,
refined combinations of odors, and participation of almost all
senses. It also reflects the awareness of the world in which the
Japanese constitute themselves. Japanese food is focused on what
life on an island affords, plus/minus influences from other
cultures, resulting from the mobility of peoples. The more
concrete writing system of the Far East and the more
down-to-earth nourishment, i.e., the closeness to what each
source of nutrition is (raw fish, seaweed, rice, minimal
processing, strict dietary patterns based on combinations of
nutritional ideograms), are an expression of the unity of the
pragmatic framework within which they result.
A Western menu is a sequence, a one-directional linear event
with a precise culmination. Eating proceeds from the
introduction to the conclusion, "from soup to nuts." A meal has
a progression and projects expectations associated with this
progression. Within the language of our food, there are well
formed sentences and ill- formed sentences, as well as a general
tendency experience gastronomic pleasure. A literate society is
a society aware of the rules for generating and enjoying meals
according to such rules. The rules are based on experiences
transmitted from one generation to the next, not necessarily in
written form, but reflecting the intrinsic sequentiality of
language and its abstract writing system. Goethe fired his cook
(Lina Louise Axthelm) because she could not realize the
distinction between healthy meals and the more sophisticated art
of preparing them according to rules of literacy and aesthetic
distinction.