Dinner and Thoughts on Food
We found in the dining-room a table laid for three, where M. d’Asterac
made us take our places.
Criton, who acted as butler, served us with jellies, and thick soup
strained a dozen times. But we could not see any joints. As well as we
could, my kind tutor and myself tried to hide our surprise. M. d’Asterac
guessed it and said:
“Gentlemen, this is only an attempt, and may seem to you an unfortunate
one. I shall not persist in it. I’ll have some more customary dishes
served for you and I shall not disdain to partake of them. If the dishes
I offer you to-day are badly prepared, it is less the fault of my cook
than that of chemistry, which is still in its infancy. But they will at
all events give you an idea of what will be in the future. At present
men eat without philosophy. They do not nourish themselves like
reasonable beings. They do not think of such. But of what are they
thinking? Most of them live in stupidity and actually those who
are capable of reflection occupy their minds with silly things like
controversies and poetry. Consider mankind, gentlemen, at their meals
since the far-away times when they ceased their intercourse with Sylphs
and Salamanders. Abandoned by the genii of the air they grew heavy and
dull in ignorance and barbarity Without policy and without art they
lived, nude and miserable, in caverns, on the border of torrents or in
the trees of the forest. The chase was their only industry. After having
surprised or captured by quickness a timid animal, they devoured that
prey still palpitating.
“They also fed on the flesh of their companions and infirm relatives;
the first sepulchres of human beings were living graves, famished and
insensible intestines. After long fierce centuries a divine man made his
appearance: the Greeks call him Prometheus. It cannot be doubted that
this sage had intercourse in the homes of the Nymphs with the Salamander
folks. He learnt of them and showed to the unhappy mortals the art of
producing and conserving fire. Of all the innumerable advantages that
men have drawn from this celestial present, one of the happiest was the
possibility of cooking food, and by this treatment, to render it
lighter and more subtle. And it’s in a large part due to the effect of
a nourishment submitted to the action of the flame that slowly and by
degrees mankind became intelligent, industrious, meditative and apt to
cultivate the arts and sciences. But that was only a first step, and it
is grievous to think that so many millions of years had to pass before
a second step was made. From the time when our ancestors toasted beasts’
quarters on fires of brambles in the shelter of a rock, we have not
made any true progress in cooking, for sure, gentlemen, you cannot put
a higher value on the inventions of Lucullus and that gross pie to
which Vitellius gave the name of Shield of Minerva than on our roasts,
patties, stews, our stuffed meats and all the fricassees which still
suffer from the ancient barbarity.
“At Fontainebleau, the king’s table, where a whole stag is dished up
in his skin and his antlers, presents to the eye of the philosopher a
spectacle as rude as that of the troglodytes, cowering round the smoking
cinders, gnawing horse bones. The brilliant paintings of the hall, the
guards, the richly clad officers, the musicians playing the melodies of
Lambert and Lulli in the gallery, the golden goblets, the silver plate,
the silken tablecloth, the Venetian glass, the chased epergnes full of
rare flowers, the heavy candlesticks--they cannot change, cannot lend
a dissimulating charm to the true nature of this unclean charnel-house,
where men and women assemble over animal bodies, broken bones and torn
meats to gloat greedily over them. Oh, what unphilosophical nourishment!
We swallow with stupid gluttony muscle, fat and intestines of beasts
without discerning in those substances such parts as are truly adapted
to our nourishment and those much more abundant which we ought to
reject; and we fill our stomach indiscriminately with good and bad,
useful and injurious. That’s the very point, where a separation is to
be made, and, if the whole medical faculty could boast of a chemist
and philosopher, we should no more be compelled to partake of such
disgusting feasts.
“They would prepare for us, gentlemen, distilled meats, containing
nothing but what is in sympathy and affinity with our body. Nothing
would be used but the quintessence of oxen and pigs, the elixir of
partridges and capons, and all that is swallowed could be digested. I do
not give up all hope, gentlemen, of obtaining such results by thinking
somewhat deeper over chemistry and medicine than I have had leisure to
do up till now.”
At these words of our host, M. Jérôme Coignard, raising his eyes over
the thin black broth in his plate, looked uneasily at M. d’Asterac, who
continued to say:
“But that would still be quite insufficient progress. No honest man
can eat animal flesh without disgust, and people cannot call themselves
refined as long as they keep slaughter-houses and butchers’ shops
in their towns. But the day will come when we shall know exactly the
nourishing elements contained in animal carcasses, and it will become
possible to extract those very same elements from bodies without life,
and which will furnish an abundance of them. Those bodies without life
contain, as a fact, all that is to be found in living beings, because
the animal has been built up by the vegetable, which has itself drawn
the substance out of the inert ground.
“Then people will feed on extracts of metal and mineral conveniently
treated by physicians. I have no doubt but that the taste of them
will be exquisite and the absorption salutary. Cookery will be done
in retorts and stills and alchemists will be our cooks. Are you not
impatient, gentlemen, to see such marvels? I promise them to you at a
very near time. But you are not able at present to unravel the excellent
effects that they will produce.”
“In truth, sir, I do not unravel them,” said my kind tutor, and had a
long draught of wine.
“If such is the case,” said M. d’Asterac, “listen to me for a moment.
No more burdened with slow digestions, mankind will become marvellously
active, their sight will become singularly piercing, and they will see
the ships gliding on the seas of the moon. Their understanding will be
clearer, their ways softer. They will greatly advance in their knowledge
of God and nature.
“But it also seems necessary to look forward on all the changes which
cannot fail to occur. Even the structure of the human body will be
modified. It is an uncontradictable fact that without exercise all
organs flatten and end by disappearing altogether. It has been observed
that fishes deprived of light become blind. I myself have seen in Valais
that shepherds who fed on curdled milk lost their teeth very early; some
of them never had any at all, When men feed on the balms I have spoken
of, their intestines will be shortened by ells and the volume of the
stomach will shrink considerably.”
“For once, sir,” said my tutor, “you go too quickly and risk making a
mess of it. I never considered it to be disagreeable when women get a
little corporation, especially if all the remainder of her body is
well proportioned. It’s a kind of beauty I’m rather partial to. Do not
transform it inconsiderately.”
“No matter, we’ll leave woman’s body and flanks formed after the canons
of the Greek sculptors. That will be to give you pleasure, reverend sir,
and also in due consideration of the labours of maternity. It is true, I
intend in that case also, to make several changes of which I’ll speak to
you on a future day. But to return to our subject. I have to acknowledge
that all I have till now predicted is nothing but a preparatory measure
for the real nourishment, which is that of the Sylphs and all aerial
spirits. They drink light, which is sufficient to give to their bodies
marvellous strength and subtility. It is their only potion, one day it
will be ours also. Nothing more is to be done than to render the rays of
the sun drinkable. I confess that I do not see with sufficient clearness
the means to arrive at it, and I do foresee many encumbrances and great
obstacles on the road. But whensoever some sage shall be able to do it,
mankind will be the equal of Sylphs and Salamanders in intelligence and
beauty.”
My good tutor listened to these words, folded in himself, his head sadly
lowered. He seemed to contemplate the changes to himself from the kind
of food imagined by our host.
“Sir,” he said after a while, “did you not speak at yonder cookshop of
an elixir which dispenses with all kinds of food?”
“True, I did,” replied M. d’Asterac, “but that liquor is only good for
philosophers, and by that you may understand how restricted is the use
of it. It will be better not to mention it.”
One doubt tormented me. I asked leave of our host to submit it to him,
certain that he would enlighten me at once. He allowed me to speak and I
said:
“Sir, those Salamanders, who you say are so beautiful, and of whom,
after your relation, I have conceived a charming idea, have they
unhappily spoiled their teeth by light drinking, as the shepherds at
Valais lost theirs by feeding only on milk diet? I confess I am rather
uneasy about it.”
“My son,” replied M. d’Asterac, “your curiosity pleases me and I will
satisfy it. The Salamanders have no teeth that we should call such. But
their gums are furnished with two ranges of pearls, very white and very
brilliant, lending to their smiles an inconceivable gracefulness. You
should know that these pearls are light-hardened.”
I said to M. d’Asterac that I was glad it was so and he continued:
“Men’s teeth are a sign of ferocity. Once people are properly fed,
their teeth will give way to some ornament similar to the pearls of the
Salamander. Then it will become incomprehensible that a lover could,
without horror and disgust, contemplate dogs’ teeth in the mouth of his
beloved.”