Food - Fifty Bucks or Move Along Stranger, I'm Working Here - Part 3

Samuel Johnson once said "Some people have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat. For my part, I mind my belly very studiously, and very carefully; for I look upon it, that he who does not mind his belly, will hardly mind anything else."  That's Samuel Johnson, one of the giants of English literature, coming down very heavily in favour of food.  With such an endorsement its no wonder that from the eighteenth century onward eating food started to become popular all over the world.

Pretty soon everybody who was anybody was eating food, sometimes several times a week.  Nowadays of course food forms a part of most people's diet to such an extent that the traditional custom of restaurants serving up small bowls of gravel for their customers has almost disappeared except in the most elite of dining establishments.

Food, it would appear, is here to stay despite the best efforts of dietitians and nutritionists to get us eating something less conducive to prolonging life.  Based on Sammy J's experience it would appear that if one wants to be accepted as a trendsetter on food the first thing you should do is write your own dictionary.

I'm ashamed to admit it but I too have indulged in food.  In fact sometimes I eat it two or three times a day.  Honestly my depravity knows no bounds.  Even such a dedicated foodie as Samuel Johnson would be rolling his eyes and shaking his head, mind you he had Tourettes so he would have been doing that anyway but there would have an element of judgement in it as well.  Well I don't care!  England's greatest master of letters may twitch and dribble in disapproval (or just twitch and dribble) but I refuse to be diverted from my path of food enjoyment.  Hey, Sam!  Nobody reads your dictionary anymore, get over yourself.

But now, having established the importance of food its time to address the elephant in the room.  As night follows day any discussion of food quite naturally leads to cannibalism.  Once the popularity of food spread from England to the rest of the world each nation started adding their own distinct touches.  The French specialised in invertebrates.  The Germans made an art of grinding an animal down to the point where you couldn't identify the precursor animal when it turned up on your plate.  Eventually we got to the point where two eager chefs were looking at an empty cooking pot in despair but a couple of hours later a single chef served up a culinary masterpiece.

Think about it for a moment.  Wouldn't all those cooking shows on television be much better if they were a last man standing blood sport?  There could be battles royale in the kitchen as each competitor tries to fillet and stuff his opponents into an oven.  For judges we could have me, Samuel Johnson and a cat.  The Adelaide couple's pulled long pig was delicious.  I give it two paws up.