Indubitably, food is what fuels us and flavours the palate. It’s an indispensable energiser everyone looks forward to. “There’s no love sincerer than the love of food,” observed George Bernard Shaw. Equally true is the saying “an army marches on its stomach”, for without food we would be reduced to weaklings.
Due to health reasons so many of us can’t eat what we crave. On the other hand, the ultra-figure-conscious choose to be anorexic while the bulimic gorge on food, throwing restraint to the winds. For the latter, American columnist Robert Quillen offers sound advice: “A good (food) reducing exercise consists in placing both hands against the dining table and pushing back.”
As vital as the need for food is the necessity to digest what one eats, for many are known to have a queasy stomach. “To eat is human,” remarked Mark Twain, “To digest, divine.” This sentiment is echoed by French author Jean Rousseau who defined happiness as “a good bank account, a good cook and a good digestion”.
Bringing a touch of humour to the dining table, British novelist Samuel Butler once wisecracked, “Man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms with the victims he intends to eat until he eats them.” This struck me as being quite true as I recalled the roosters Mum used to solicitously fatten up for Christmas, Easter and other special occasions. And, of course, livestock is nurtured to be tabled as food the world over.
In boarding school the conundrum “Do we eat to live or live to eat?” was often bandied around with boyish gusto. I, for one, was quick to realise that what kept us hyperactive was a hearty meal. Boarding school food, however, often bordered on the monastic. Second helpings were discouraged. And while such seekers didn’t exactly run the risk of being “ladled” as happened to Oliver Twist, they did face the daunting prospect of being scowled at by the burly, disapproving cook!
The warden, a stickler for table manners, insisted that we eat with spoon and fork—a skill that took us time to acquire. Initially, clumsy beginners created quite an annoying clatter—or “sabre-rattling” as a wit termed it—often sending pieces of improperly “speared” food flying like misguided missiles. As American humorist Gelett Burgess aptly opined, “Bad manners simply indicate that you care a good deal more for the food than for the society at the table.”
About famine, Oscar Wilde once joked ebulliently, “Whenever cannibals are on the brink of starvation, Heaven in its infinite mercy sends them a nice plump missionary.” And in the same vein English clergyman Sydney Smith quipped, “The observances of the church concerning feasts and fasts are tolerably well kept since the rich keep the feasts and the poor the fasts.”
Perhaps the most practical advice regarding food comes from Twain, who sagaciously advocated, “The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don’t want, drink what you don’t like and do what you’d rather not.”