Hungry Like the Wolf

“Thus, Heidegger too failed to bring the statement “I am hungry” within the purview of philosophy” – Hans Jonas Mortality and Morality: A Search for the Good after Auschwitz pg. 47

Today I cooked myself a nice big breakfast. I got up early, prepared everything just right, and cooked myself one helluva breakfast. I broke a fork and burnt my hand, but it was worth it. What began out as a simply way of starting my day on a good note, and perhaps a gluttonous note, turned into a true lesson on man’s way of existing in the world. I am not referring to the ontological separation between myself and the once living pig I am eating, nor am I referring to an abstract mode of vegetarian ethic, but rather a simple human phenomena that we all undertake hopefully at least twice a day (three times if you have a square meal, whatever the hell that means).

We must eat to survive. Seems pretty simple. Our body processes food to produce energy through a process called metabolism, which Hans Jonas notes as the primary condition for freedom, a process which is found in even the lowest bacteria. Eating also gives a view into the food chain, which is the dietary way in which nature structures itself. I eat a cow, which ate grass, which ‘ate’ sunlight through photosynthesis. Every living being in this way is tied to every other. The most self-sufficient being, the plant, is the least free while the most needy being, mankind, is the most free (in the state of nature, whatever the hell that is). But the topic of this blog isn’t even eating, but rather cooking.

Cooking is a purely human activity. Cooking was once not needed by mankind because our bodies could handle raw meat. However, after years of preparing our food with heat our bodies can no longer handle this raw meat. This has been a process of de-evolution due to technology but has given us more freedom and most importantly the gift of taste.

Man’s ability to cook gives him something an animal couldn’t even imagine. We can choose what our food will taste like, prepare it as we see fit, and even choose to go against our natural abilities and refuse to eat certain goods out of our hunger for ethical demands. We are the only animal who can simultaneously be hungry and picky. This is because of the ability to cook (and in a large part the ability to store foods in a cold area to be cooked later).

Cooking then is a way of transcending the natural human condition. While simultaneously reminding us of the food chain and our natural roots, it also calls us above them. We are masters of fire and food. We can take something inedible, and eat it. We are not bound like our animal kin, we are the most free. But this blog is not even going to chomp at the tantalizingly tasty philosophic debate about freedom and its consequences in regards to food. This entry is far more simple.

Cooking gives us the ability to taste what no other animal can taste. Cooking is the music of the mouth, the art of the pallet, the perfume of the tongue, and the Kashmir of the stomach. Cooking allows us to eat the highest and best foods prepared in the highest and best ways. Under this assumption I will include wine (fermentation) and dessert (baking) as well as meal. As much as the ability to produce simple bread reminds us of our lowly station, so too does the consumption of fine foods reminds us of our divinity.

Imagine, if you will, a person who upon being asked the question ‘what is your favorite food’ responds ‘bread’. Aside from initial disbelief, our response would be all together negative, and should be. If somebody favors bread over fine seafood, a fillet mignon, a roasted duck, a hearty soup, a fresh salad, or even a sinful dessert, then he should not be trusted. That is equivalent to some one saying that there favorite music is a metronome. This person clearly has no concept of the beautiful in relation to his taste. Man’s chief role is to know the beautiful with all five of his senses – and if he does not do that well then he is falling short of his telos. Thus I arrive at a rather audacious claim that if someone’s favorite food is plain bread, they are not quite human.

Consider this. When a cult, or tyranny, or organization wants to lower moral or decrease spirit the first thing they do is take away food, especially tasty food. Eating gruel every day, while simultaneously draining your body of important vitamins, drains your spirit of something it desires. This is why food is so tempting. As much as our body loves food, our souls have some sort of connection as well. We all have a favorite food, a comfort food, a food which aids our love, a food we eat when we are sad, a food we eat in public and a food we eat in private, and a food that reminds us of home. Imagine now. Imagine a world were food has been replaced by pills that contain all our essentials but no taste. Imagine a world without your favorite comfort food, the food that reminds you of home, a world with no dinner dates, no family suppers, no self-cooked breakfasts that assure you that you can survive on your own. Imagine not knowing the taste of dessert, the creamy sensation of your favorite soup, that warm full feeling you get after a good meal. Imagine a world with no cooks, no connection to food chains and no artful preparations, and no taste.

If we can agree, which I know we cannot, that beautiful music and beautiful art effect the human positively then why not include food. Is it because we cannot overindulge in music and art, but we can in food? Is it because our temptation for food is stronger than our temptation for music or art? Are gluttony and drunkenness so powerful that we cannot give such weight to their primary tempters? Perhaps this is true, perhaps I am touching on a Pandora’s box, a validation for gluttony, a praise of drunkenness, an argument for the party lifestyle. But then let us remember how tired our minds get after endless hours of music, or how or ears hurt if its too loud, or how every once in a blue moon we just want to close our eyes and not see anything but darkness. Appreciating art is not merely looking at it, nor is hearing music enough to drive your soul to ascend but something deeper, something which involves separating yourself from your love only to joyously embrace it when it returns in your life. Moderation shows mastery, being able to enjoy something but know when to not indulge shows the power of the human spirit over the body.

Perhaps this is a mock defense, not persuasive enough to sway those gluttons, but there is a danger far worse than gluttony and that is the inability to know beauty. It is too characteristic for our culture to eradicate our roads to beauty – because beauty is difficult. Beauty reminds us of our wretchedness while promising us divinity. We are only blessed because we can see beauty, but we are wretched because we can never hold it. Thus we try to remove it, better to never have such a reminder, better to sacrifice two seconds of divinity for a lifetime without wretchedness. So we turn to confusion and disorder, drip paintings and modern music. We deny beauty’s existence by playing to the weakest emotions: Anger, pity, sorrow, and lust. The same phenomenon occurs in the world of food. We have fast food to fill us cheaply and quickly and beer designed only for drunkenness; these are the drip paintings in the world of food.

This is not only gluttony but this why gluttony is a sin, because overindulgence in something shows a love for its base pleasure. Eating to simply be full is a far more gluttonous activity than eating with friends and family while discussing, even if you eat more when your friends and family are there. Eating to be full is simply a self-motivated activity akin to listening to a certain type of music to look cool. It is a complete denial of any beauty intrinsic to the act because it is valued only for its usefulness to the consumer. I have said the magic word “consumer”. To be a consumer, to consume, is to make all things a slave to benefit you. A consumer does not see beauty, it only consumes it. This is the real meaning behind gluttony, not only the quantity of what you eat, but how you eat it, how you view, what is the good which you seek? Are you consuming the food or are you eating the food?

Perhaps I am way off the mark, and as always, I invite those of you who find fault to comment. But next time you are lonely, or tired, or sad take the extra time to cook yourself a nice hearty breakfast and more importantly take the time to EAT it, not just consume it. Perhaps the feeling you have afterward is the best argument I can present.