An Uneducated View of Sex, Food and Politics - Derek Haines (beach read book .TXT) 📗

may be a simpler truth than many other truths you have read. Maybe this is the preserve of the uneducated. Simplicity. Unlike the Astrophysicist with a need to expand his answer as to whether the sun is hot, I would answer you thus. “Of course the sun is bloody hot. It was over a hundred today, and I have a sunburned nose to prove it!”
Do you hanker for any further embellishment to my answer?
This chapter started out with a simple question. What is food? Other than being an essential of life, along with water, which for the sake of this point, I will simply include in the category of food then not mention again, it is fundamentally a sensual pleasure. Sensuality is a word that has been brutalised and twisted, but to me it is the collective or individual feeling or feelings conveyed by our senses. Taste, touch, smell, sight and sound. I shall cover the more broad aspects of sensuality later, but for now I will concentrate on the sensual attraction of food. As with the baby’s natural and instinctive desire to discover, and have questions answered via oral testing, our passage to maturity continues with this same instinct intact. As much as we wish to deny our instincts; we believe we are maturing and becoming intelligent and do not need or desire so called animal instincts, but instead rely on self-gathered information and intelligent research. We also rely on the opinion of others, peer and superior.
If this is true, why is it that our saliva glands run with animal instinct, and activate at a moments notice, and completely uncontrolled by conscious thought. Haven’t we all seen saliva shoot embarrassingly from our mouth in an uncontrolled reaction to the advent of the sight or smell of a forthcoming taste sensation? For all our self motivated questioning of this phenomenon, and whether we could learn to control it, or whether it was done intentional or not, the fact remains that we cannot control our saliva glands. No matter how much we try to convince ourselves, or be convinced by others that sugar, toffee apples, chocolate or a rare tender beef fillet are poor additions to our sought after ‘healthy eating regime’, why is it that our basic instincts react to these delights? They will offer sensual pleasure for our oral sensual appetite, but more importantly fulfil a basic and simple purpose. To satisfy the most fundamental, life sustaining animal urge present in our being. Hunger.
For all of us, different foods attract, and some repulse. Others repulse by mention, but with application of the baby’s natural method of testing, we discover that we may just enjoy a previously repulsive food concept. If this were not the case, no one would ever develop a love for olives, oysters, any form of edible internal organ, onions, chillies or hot mustard. But over time, and with an inbuilt need to try new things, and experiment, we all develop tastes for previously distasteful food concepts.
I was asked by my partner, girlfriend, spouse, life mate, de-facto, (it is an annoyance to me that the English language cannot invent a word that sounds pleasant and loving and describes a woman who is not married to man, and therefore cannot be referred to as a wife, but is everything a wife is to a husband) if I would like to try a recipe she had been reluctant to cook for many a year. “Sure, what is it my love?” To which she read the beginning of the recipe. “Lamb loin chops cooked in coffee, orange and chocolate!”
My first thought, of intuitive acceptance of my devo’s wonderful expertise in the kitchen, was overwhelmed by the negative reaction of not only my dried up saliva glands, but also by my stomach which was sending definite signs of pre-emptive rejection of this newly devised concept. My second thought was of course to say, “It sounds wonderful my love.”
4 I have tried to get excited about lentils. Really, I’ve tried.
5 If I may be so bold, perhaps I could start suggestions with the words ‘Devo’ for the feminine and Devor for the masculine. I have invented these by the normal contraction method used in the English language from the word devoted. Understanding that they are not likely to catch on, perhaps someone can develop this thought further and be the first to end this continuing embarrassment for an increasing percentage of the population in the western nations as marriage becomes increasingly irrelevant.
6 Recipe 1. Chocolate and Coffee Lamb Chops.
This recipe is a delight and so simple. Take as many lamb loin chops as you need to feed the number of mouths. For each four chops, squeeze one orange and add a few shreds of finely chopped orange zest to the juice. Make ¼ cup of rich coffee. Gently melt 2 oz of dark chocolate in a saucepan, and add coffee and orange juice. Pan fry chops and pour sauce over chops when serving.
7 Read previous note for the definition of this new word.
So it was to be. That night’s menu was lamb loin chops, cooked to perfection with a juicy pink centre, covered with a sauce of strong espresso coffee, dark melted chocolate and orange juice. Served with steamed vegetables and pasta rolled in olive oil and garlic. Accompanied by a mandatory bottle of Merlot and the company of the woman I love. My first mouthful was watched intently by my devo, as she waited with baited breath for acceptance or rejection of her new creation. As I let the new sensual combination of these simple and well known tastes meld and create an exciting new palette of taste for my taste buds, I judged very quickly that this was a taste I liked, and liked very much. As a smile of acceptance and pleasure came to my face, and nodding affirmatively with my mouth still full of lamb, chocolate, coffee and orange, my devo smiled and started on her plate.
In the history of human kind, nothing has superseded the simple test a baby uses, of putting something in the mouth to prove or reject concepts of potential enjoyment or satisfaction. No amount of discussion, advice, smelling, consideration or questioning would prove whether these lamb chops would taste good or not. Only the simple act of tasting could prove the pleasure hidden in the initially unlikely tasteful description.
In a similar experience, a friend named Houba, on holiday in Sydney for a year from the French part of Switzerland often talked of how she missed fondue. Especially during the winter months of her stay. So it was that my devo (who is also Swiss French, so hence you understand the connections here) and I were invited for a ‘fondue evening’. Now, I must preface this story with some basic information about fondue. Firstly, most Australian’s understanding or association with fondue comes from the fact that every married couple receive at least one fondue set as a wedding gift, but never have any call to use it. Secondly, fondue to the Swiss is not only a very, I repeat myself for emphasis, very special dish, but also a special occasion, complete with ritualistic ways of eating and conversing during the partaking of the said fondue. The recipe calls for specific and very specially selected cheeses, none of which are available at Coles or Woolworths.
8 Recipe 2. Traditional Swiss Fondue.
This will be short. Melt three of the smelliest cheeses you can find in a saucepan and then dip some bread in and taste. Urgh!
9 If you are married, check out those boxes of forgotten treasures in the garage or shed, and see if I am right that you will discover a fondue set. If you have no idea what one is, here is the description of what you are searching for. One funny shaped saucepan, one spirit warmer and a set of six long, slender but delicate forks.
For this particular evening’s repast, three extremely exotic cheeses were melted and melded with care and with the knowledge and skill of the entire Swiss history of fondue preparation, seasoned to perfection by Houba and her husband Houba. (Yes, they both had the same name. Very confusing.) Served on the dining table with much ado, I was instructed in minute detail by my devo and Houba in the etiquette of fondue. First attach a small piece of bread firmly to the fork. Dip the bread into my own personal glass of Kirsch and then swirl my fork with flair around the bottom of the wonderfully prepared cheese mixture so as to accumulate as much cheese as possible on my Kirsch soaked bread. I watched as my fondue experienced dining partners dipped their bread and swirled their forks, and smiled in obvious delight at the taste sensation that had passed into their mouths and caressed their taste buds. The looks of sheer pleasure on their faces indicated the fact that they had very much missed their beloved fondue.
I was taken by the pleasure that was so obvious in the faces of my friends and my devo. Fondue was without a doubt a taste sensation. With great expectation, and a salivating mouth, I took up my small fork and firmly attached my first small square of geometrically perfect French bread. Then, as instructed, dipped the bread into my glass of Kirsch, then directed my fork into the steaming pot of exquisite melted cheese. Rolling my fork constantly on route to my mouth, as to not drip cheese over the table, wine glasses and my trousers, I successfully negotiated the much awaited morsel onto my expectant taste buds. Three expectant faces watched me as I took that first mouthful.
I remember being given vinegar on a teaspoon by my mother when I was young as a cure for hiccoughs. The face I used to pull at the taste of pure vinegar was now replicated in front of my friends. My palette had not been expecting anything so violently salty. Before offering my apologies at my lack of manners and self control, I emptied the glass of Kirsch into my mouth in an attempt to rid my mouth of what was to me a foul and disgusting taste.
After much discussion, and embarrassment by all, I settled on being very satisfied just dipping the very good bread into the very good Kirsch, and enjoying the meal albeit, cheese free for me. My three dining partners were not displeased at having more cheese each for themselves, (as they insisted that the fondue was perfect, and I believe it was, and also that it was a less salty version than what they would have preferred, but had prepared this one to ‘ease’ me into fondue) and nor was I displeased at having more than my fair share of Kirsch!
Point? Simple. No matter how much we are informed, it is the individual who makes decisions affecting themselves. Could any amount of research have told me that I would not like fondue? I love cheese. I eat bread with a passion. I would never refuse a glass of Kirsch. So, how could I have reasoned prior to tasting, that I would hate the taste of fondue? The same applies to the lamb chops. My research prior to actual eating, would have told me the combination of lamb, coffee, chocolate and orange would be disgusting. What delights do we miss by using preconception to decide our likes and dislikes? Could it be that the open mindedness of the baby’s oral testing of the world around it has not been improved upon by endless questioning and answering?
As with all our senses, individually we all have differing tastes, like, dislikes, loves, hates. Can any be categorised to encompass all of us? Is there one food or taste that is universal