From: [email-masked] (agu)
To: [email-masked], [email-masked]
Date: Fri, 17 Feb 1995 13:08:07 -0800

We have been lucky to discover several previously lost diaries of French 
philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre stuck in between the cushions of our office 
sofa.  These diaries reveal a young Sartre obsessed not with the void, but 
with food.  Apparently Sartre, before discovering philosophy, had hoped to 
write "a cookbook that will put to rest all notions of flavour forever." 
The diaries are excerpted here for your perusal.

October 3
     
Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook.  Though he has never actually 
eaten, he gave me much encouragement.  I rushed home immediately to begin 
work.  How excited I am!  I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
     
October 4
     
Still working on the omelet.  There have been stumbling blocks.  I keep 
creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea, 
but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone.  I want to create an omelet 
that expresses the meaninglessness of existence, and instead they taste 
like cheese.  I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back. 
Tried eating them with the lights off.  It did not help.  Malraux 
suggested paprika.
     
October 6
     
I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is 
bourgeois.  Today I tried making one out of cigarette, some coffee, and 
four tiny stones.  I fed it to Malraux, who puked.  I am encouraged, but 
my journey is still long.
     
October 10
     
I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional 
dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely. Today 
I tried this recipe:
     
Tuna Casserole
     
Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
     
Place the casserole dish in a cold oven.  Place a chair facing the oven 
and sit in it forever.  Think about how hungry you are.  When night falls, 
do not turn on the light.
     
While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its 
inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle.  How can the eater recognize 
that the food denied them is a tuna casserole and not some other dish?  I 
am becoming more and more frustrated.
     
October 25
     
I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire cookbook. 
Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself, embody the 
plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as providing 
the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the four basic food 
groups.  To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of foodstuffs from 
the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit 
anyone.  After several weeks of work, I produced a recipe calling for two 
eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and a leek.  While this is a 
start, I am afraid I still have much work ahead.
     
November 15
     
Today I made a Black Forest cake out of five pounds of cherries and a live 
beaver, challenging the very definition of the word cake.  I was very 
pleased.  Malraux said he admired it greatly, but could not stay for 
dessert.  Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement yet, 
and have resolved to enter it in the Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
     
November 30
     
Today was the day of the Bake-Off.  Alas, things did not go as I had 
hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty 
Crocker on the wrist.  The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling 
blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to say, more 
than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite homemaker.  I only 
got third place.  Moreover, I am now the subject of a rather nasty 
lawsuit.
     
December 1
     
I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two months, and I am now 
experiencing light tides.  It is stupid to be so fat.  My pain and 
ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I was thin, but 
seem to impress girls far less.  From now on, I will live on cigarettes 
and black coffee.