Should not the supreme aim of gastronomy be to untangle the confusion of ideas that confront mankind, and to provide this unfortunate biped with some guidance as to how he should conduct himself and his appetites? Buffeted continually by the studies of scientists, the inventions of dieticians, the fashions of restaurateurs and the disguised marketing campaigns of a thousand trade associations, his own tastes are often his last point of reference. The tyranny of political correctness, undermining him further, makes of him a man who avoids endangered species, factory farming, deforestation, genetic modification and inhumane slaughter. If he is unfortunate enough also to have a religion, then he will probably live the meanest of lives in the most tightly fitting of gastronomical straitjackets. By walking such a culinary tightrope, he believes that he will reap his rewards in long life, good health, moral superiority and in heaven hereafter. Yet all around him our unfortunate sees good vegetarians pushing up daisies, teetotallers' hearts tightening and sugarphobes queuing in dentists' waiting rooms. Reader, recognise that all your years of abstinence and your naive trust of low-fat yogurt have not saved you from a pot belly, heavy jowls and an inadequate sex drive. A life of diets has rendered your face pinched and furrowed from harsh judgement of your fellow diners and your evenings long and lonely.
Mark Crick
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