When, finally, in the company of our respected Horatius we hear him say in the slang of his day: Ab ovo usque ad mala, and compare this bright saying with our own dear “From Soup to Nuts.”...
Then we arrive at the comforting conclusion that we moderns are either very ancient and backward or that indeed the ancients are very modern and progressive; and it is our only regret that we cannot decide this perplexing situation to our lasting satisfaction.
Very true, there may be nothing new under the sun, yet nature goes on eternally fashioning new things from old materials. Eternally demolishing old models in a manner of an economical sculptor, nature uses the same old clay to create new specimens. Sometimes nature slightly alters the patterns, discarding what is unfit for her momentary enigmatic purposes, retaining and favoring that which pleases her whimsical fancy for the time being.
Cookery deals exclusively with nature’s works. Books on cookery are essentially books on nature’s actions and reactions.
In the perpetual search for perfection, life has accomplished one remarkable thing: the development of man, the animal which cooks. Gradually nature has revealed herself to man principally through the food he takes, cooks and prepares for the enjoyment of himself and his fellow men.
The Cooking Animal
The gastronomer is the highest development of the cooking animal.
He—artist, philosopher, metaphysician, religionist—stands with his head bared before nature: overawed, contemplating her gifts, feasting his eyes on beauteous forms and colors, inhaling intoxicating fragrances, aromas, odors, matching them all artistically, partaking only of what he needs for his own subsistence—eternally marveling at nature’s inexhaustible resources and inventiveness, at her everlasting bounty born of everlasting fierce struggles.
The gastronomer is grateful for the privilege of holding the custodianship of such precious things, and he guards it like an office of a sacred rite—ever gratefully, reverently adoring, cherishing the things before him ... ever marveling ... ever alone, alone with nature.
As for the overwhelming majority of the cooking animals, they behave much more “naturally.” They are a merry crowd, ever anticipating a good time, ever jolly, eager, greedy. Or, they are cranky, hungry, starved, miserable, and they turn savage now and then. Some are gluttonous. Many contract indigestion—nature’s most subtle punishment.