Food, Fuel, Art and Desire

I've come to the decision that it isn't language, tool use, sex for pleasure's sake alone or an unprecedented ability to fuck with the environment that distinguishes human beings from the other animals. What sets us apart is food.

When it comes to food, we do something no other animal appears to do. We blend foods. In all sorts of amazing and mind-boggling mysterious and interesting ways. And we serve it and eat it in an almost equally wide range of variations.

And the things we choose to eat! Truffles. An insane explosion of flavour and it's a damn mushroom. A black and malformed lump of fungus. Someone somewhere, dug one up, looked at it and thought,

"Fuck it. Why not? I'm game!"

Shellfish. I mean seriously? Looks like snot, feels like snot, tastes like...fucking hell! Give me some more!

Fermented fruit. "What? You're going to drink that stuff? Smells like its gone bad mate! I wouldn't if I were...Ohhhhhh yeahhhhhh! Thats soooo good! What? You call it wine? Why the hell not, works for me! I love ya mate, y'know that dontcha?"

The list could go on and on and on. It is truly bewildering.

For most other animals food is simply utilitarian. To be fair to them though, it really is a matter of survival. When you're a massive tonne or so of moose shouldering your way through snowdrifts, or a small gecko scrabbling across desert rocks, you don't really have the time to pause and say, "Hmmm, I think it could do with just a touch more cumin."

We have the luxury of being able to make food into something more than just fuel. No matter the surrounding environment, humans everywhere take the time to make the act of eating something....sublime.

Food is a luxurious indulgence that is eminently fulfilling to a sensualist such as me. If you have the luxury or inclination to do so, the act of preparing a meal, presenting it and then eating it is one of the richest total engagement of the senses it is legally possible to experience.

It begins with the selection of the ingredients, where the appearance of the food, its feel, its firmness, its smell - even the sound of it as a nail is flicked against it - are all taken into account. Already we are anticipating the combination of flavours and textures that will come from our selections.

In the preparation we bring all our senses to bear again. Its such a tactile act - pulling, tearing, cutting, shredding, grinding - we get the feel of each ingredient so fully at this point. At the same time, our eyes are watching and measuring, judging size and colour and shape. There is the satisfying sound of a blade slicing its way through the flesh, the thunk into the board beneath, the crisp sound of vegetable fibres parting way, the sound of a pestle scraping against the mortar bowl.

And the smells. Oh gods above, the smells! As each ingredient begins its transformation into a meal, it releases its raw scent into the air and it hooks straight in to the most primal and ancient parts of our brain.

And then we begin the mixing, blending, folding in and cooking and we get our first hints of the delights that to that point were simply seductive promises. As each item joins the mix, new scents and colours appear, filling the air with luscious vapours. The sounds of sizzling and bubbling a perfect counterpoint to the olfactory and visual scene unfolding.

Then its ready to serve, and you place it on the plate artfully, remembering the time you heard the phrase "The first bite is with the eyes," and you get the chance to indulge a sense of the aesthetic. It is art simply begging to be consumed.

And finally. Finally, at last and a-fucking-men, you get to eat it, and the indulgent love affair begins all over again. Your eyes take in the splashes of colour and already you are eating. You lean forward a little to breathe in the scents deeply and immediately you are tasting. You bring it to your lips and into your mouth and everything happens. The tastes, the textures, the smells. The soft sighs and moans and exclamations of appreciation.

The way people interact with food says a lot about them too. I enjoy watching people eat, and I'll confess in my mind I'm making assumptions about their personality that may well be as unwarranted as judging them by their music or book collection (yes, that's also a habit of mine).

Do they take the time to prepare their own food or do they live on take-away and fast food? Are they selective about the foods they eat? Is it fuel or indulgence? Do they gulp their food down without pause to savour it? Do they linger over it lovingly? Do they approach it all prim and proper according to some restrictive for of table etiquette? Do their eyes close and glaze over in some sort of orgasmic delight at each bite? The way we eat reflects our background, our upbringing, our priorities, how in touch we are with our bodies, how we view the work and lives of ourselves and others. It's all there, hovering above a plate.

Is it any wonder food and sex are so closely associated, they give us that total sensory engagement and lay bear who we are at our core.

I think it may well be that the way we blend foods is the pinnacle of human achievement.