Philosopher In The Kitchen by Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

Philosopher In The Kitchen Reviews

• 
  Heather

  I expected this book about food (which was published in 1825, and whose author was born in 1755) to be much drier and less funny than it actually was. In her introduction, Anne Drayton (who translated the book) describes it as "a unique combination of recipes and aphorisms, reflections and reminiscences, history and philosophy," and that sums it up pretty well (12). I like this aphorism, which is seventh in a list of twenty at the start of the book: "the pleasures of the table belong to all times and all ages, to every country and every day; they go hand in hand with all our other pleasures, outlast them, and remain to console us for their loss" (13).
  
  Early in the book, Brillat-Savarin talks about the senses in general, and then the sense of taste in particular: he talks about the relationship between smell and taste, and about taste as being the sense "which, on the whole, gives us the maximum of delight" (45). He then goes on to talk about various kinds of food, both in terms of where it comes from and how it's prepared and what it's like. He talks about how chickens are overfed and overfattened: I didn't know that was a thing before modern factory farms. (He also notes that "It must be admitted that this unnatural rotundity is also delicious," which cracked me up (74).) He talks about going hunting in Connecticut in 1794 and shooting a wild turkey; he talks about game and fish and truffles and sugar. He talks about coffee and ways of making it, and hot chocolate and ways of making it. There's a whole chapter on "the theory of frying," and another on thirst.
  
  Later, Brillat-Savarin moves on to talk specifically about gourmandism, which he defines as "an impassioned and habitual preference for everything which gratifies the organ of taste" (132). It's an all-around good thing, he argues: it's pleasurable, and good for the economy (he talks about the Napoleonic Wars as having given Brits, Germans, and others a taste for French food and wine), and good for social life, too (he talks about the pleasures of two married gourmands, who get to eat good food together and talk about good food together and therefore always have something to do and something to talk about). He also talks about the science of eating and living, as it was understood in his time: there are sections on digestion, rest, sleep, dreams, obesity, and thinness, and it was interesting to read his early arguments in favor of a low-carb diet for weight loss (though he doesn't call it that: he just says to avoid potatoes, flour, and sugar to lose weight, or to eat those same things if you want to gain weight). He then moves on to a history of cooking, and also talks about restaurants as a "completely new and inadequately recognized institution" (266). The end of the book consists of a whole section of miscellaneous anecdotes and recipes, some of which felt too random, but some of which were fun. (At one point he describes being at an inn with some companions and seeing "a very handsome leg of mutton at which the ladies from sheer force of habit darted extremely coquettish glances" (303).)
  
  I liked all the little bits of food history in this book, and I liked its humor, and it was fun to think of the similarities and differences between Brillat-Savarin's time and now. At one point when talking about chocolate, he talks about how vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon are the only things good for flavoring it (as opposed to things like pepper, ginger, and aniseed, which he says were tried and abandoned): I'd love for him to be able to go to a fancy 21st-century chocolate shop and try all the different flavor combinations.
• 
  Doug

  I found this to be a delightful read as well as interesting The author gives us a glimpse into the world of food in the 1800s as perceived by an elite member of society. Some of what he wrote in those times would be found to be offensive now, like his characterization of women, but it does paint a picture of life and thought in those times by one who was entitled and moved in wealthy circles. His "scientific" observations (based on his training in medicine and chemistry) of various aspects of food, diet, body structure, well or ill being, etc. were at times humorous but always interesting. A good read for anyone interested in the history of food and dining or gaining a perspective on upper class life in the 1800s in France.
• 
  Alex Lee

  At first glance this book seems like it would be hard to review. What you have is an intellectual's pontification of food. Being from the time period of middle capitalism, when industry was in full swing, but of the upper classes, most of the knowledge he brings to us is conjecture... that is, his biology, anatomy and chemical analysis only go so far as to talk of macro-structures. Much else is opinion, metaphysics pulled onto observations connected at the macro-level. So in that sense, hardly interesting to us today, given our wider acquaintance of the sciences. But then again, his thoughts serve as a mirror to the values of his day... that is to say, reality only echoed back to him (and us, the reader) his "apparent truth" that he read in the things he wrote. What we get then, is less an encyclopedia of food related relations -- but rather we get a slice of the French world view from the position of a gourmand.
  
  There are in this work, the tell tale signs of modernism, of the epic tale. He waxes on food, praises it, sings highly to the gods. In each tale he tells, of class relations, of political opponents, of military men, of husband and wife... their relations take on the "flavor" of how they relate to food. In this sense, Brillat-Savarin says more than he means to say, even as he tries to maximally complete this high tale of digestion and gastronomy... touch every aspect of life... he ends instead of telling us what is important in this lifeworld.
  
  For most of human existence, we have hungered. Our economic and social arrangements all center around our bellies (first and foremost, although of course there are other things that influence these hierarchies). So for the first time, in the middle of the industrial revolution you get the bounty of the Earth, delivered at your door. For the first time, with foodstuffs from Asia, the New World, Africa, the middle East and even in Europe, you get whole mobs of well to do professionals, often with disposable incomes, hungering for sweets and delicacies. This sounds scrumptious until you realize that much of the political instability today is due to vast social and ecology abuse from this time period. Latin America for example, still bears the scars of heavy cane sugar farming. Much of the land in Cuba is left unproductive. This also includes the human misery caused by slavery in service of European tastebuds. As a result of this need for profit and this need for luxury, within this book we get evidence of a bourgeois class not only able to sake their thirst but also create new meals, unheard of delights! Much of capitalism isn't just greed -- its also competition in the social hierarchy of who throws the best meals, who has the best parties, who can afford the most rarest of desserts.
  
  This kind of excess still goes on today, of course, as endangered species are eaten by the wealthy, who can afford profiteers who are willing to break the law for a tidy sum... but back then, regulation was much laxer. So in this book, you get a paralleled description of the excess. On nearly every page, Brillat-Savarin describes the bounty of courses, the mouthwatering meals, the smells, and the skilled preparation of food. Food! FOOD. In the course of waxing about how great food is, he talks about how it relates to nearly everything about the French bourgeois, from dating, to attitudes about what to eat, who is a pig, who is laughable... bad manners in foreigners (mostly British but some American and German, whose nations incidentally are also France's major economic competitors at this time period)... in essence, Brillat-Savarin classifies people by their attitudes towards food.
  
  In this book, food is the nexus that determines social standing. While Brillat-Savarin seeks to talk about food, about the meaning of it, he ends up telling us instead (although in an excessively ego-centric way) about the people who seek to eat it. Who deserves it? How can you be saved by it? His most hilarious stories are always at the expense of people who lack the class and finesse either to appreciate the meal, or understanding its richness.
  
  In this sense, this book is quite a tale. But you kind of have to read between the lines (a little) to recognize this. In another sense, this book was a boring as hell... probably because I don't care about his society, his world or his antiquated thoughts! If anything, Brillat-Savarin was most likely a fascinating, friendly and energetic man of his time. But he reads to me as being boorish, childish in his temperament towards others... and not at all understanding of the deeper sensibilities that contextualize his social reality. But we shouldn't fault this of him... after all, each of us does reflect our origins, or at least where we are right now, in how we think of things, how we write of them and how we choose to identify what aspects of what particular has what meaning to us. This doesn't mean though, that I should like him.
  
  He does of course, reflect his time period. And in his time, the Earth was limitless abundance, and all the pleasures of capitalism could be lead straight to one's stomach. People were first learning that greed in the marketplace meant stuffing yourself silly (as it was your right to spend your money as you liked)... all the while impressing your neighbors while you were at it. Obviously today, our world has grown too small to support our appetites...so it disgusts me to read about how people often over ate just to impress others with the ruggedness of their lifeforce... And in that sense, perhaps I envy his innocence, even just a little.
• 
  Julia

  A favourite!