SIR AUGECHEEK OF LINCOLNSHIRE’S MOST MEANINGFUL AND WELL ARBITRATED MEDITATION ON THE PERPETUAL WARRE OF GOOD MANNE AGAINST THE TYRANNY OF THE COOK: THE LEVIATHAN OF NOURISHMENT

IT WOULD BE FOLLY to think that the most profligate of gentlemen absorb themselves in the expostulation of the chef’s sovereignty over the culinary arts of the manor. Rather, they find that they bequeath their inalienable rights to the general good and the exercise of their will to the chef, who is the complete Leviathan over the wills of many astute gentlemen. Indeed, this republicanism of the culinary arts is a destruction not only of the will; nay, it is a destruction of the very art of expression, which all good gentlemen pride themselves on being capable of.

SOME HAVE IMAGINED when gentlemen, in their thirst for ecstasy, find their wine poured by unscrupulous cupbearers, they drink more deeply than they should. If the gentlemen find their butlers are not liberal in their servings, and do not offer viscous liquor in abundant quantities, they accuse their stewards of being filthy oligarchs! In the dominion of food, however, there is no viscous liquor (other than foodstuffs unbefitting of a gentleman) that is dangerous in liberal servings, even in the hands of unscrupulous platterbearers.

THEREFORE, I WOULD CONTEST the sovereignty of the chef. Wine, regardless of the good temperament of the butler, will always poison the soul. That is beyond the restraint of any well-bounded spirit. On the contrary, why do we find in nearly every good manor of the west, the sovereignty over the culinary arts falls not in the hands of the gentlemen, who have suitable command over their own wants and desires, but rather in the hands of an oligarchic cabal of cooks? Or worse, in the tyranny of a singular, all-powerful chef?

I SOLEMNLY BELIEVE, when we appoint deputies to represent our stomachs, they become worse off than if we were deputies ourselves. I’ve expected my stomach to be well represented by my chef, but time and time again I find myself disappointed by the results delivered. I fear this is a ubiquitous phenomenon experienced by many good gentlemen across our great nation. Indeed, on one recent occasion, I found myself served food befitting a suppliant! However, I was forced to eat the dish, lest I suffer emotional punishment from the good mistress… But, I must say, it was a humiliation of the good character of myself to be forced to consume such a terrible meal! No sir, my will was not fulfilled; such was the one duty bestowed upon my chef!

I WOULD THINK that my will is represented better by myself than my chef. He has complete sovereignty over my stomach, and exercises his tyranny thrice daily. I demand, for the sake of all good gentlemen, to return the rights of the culinary arts back into the hands of their natural leaders: the gentlemen of all good English manors. They should have the right to determine what is served on their plate, as their cooks are nothing but lousy quacks who fail to represent their will time and time again.

Signed,

Sir Augecheek of Lincolnshire

A Letter to the Editor

Dear Sir Augecheek of the most exquisite province of Lincolnshire,

I was most mortified by your letter to the press last fortnight, and hoped to deliberate with you on several key points you claim. As a good scholar, gentleman, and Englishman, I hope you may indulge my comments:

1. You claim that the delegation of sovereignty over your appetite to your chef is tyranny. As a well-read English scholar, I’d imagine you’d plenty of time to exercise your will outside of the kitchen. Were you a more sylvan gentleman, like myself, you’d find yourself consumed in the kitchen! Therefore, your chef buys you precious freedoms for the more refined arts. While I enjoy the freedom to exercise my right to the culinary arts, this is not true of all gentlemen.
2. You demand sovereignty over the culinary arts, yet they are similar to the classics: you must learn the fundamentals, and exercise the action countless times to perfect the craft. There is nuance, like scholars of antiquity, in work created—I prefer Chapman, while others relish Ogilby. However, a grammar student’s work is neither digestible nor suitable for a well-read gentleman like yourself, and I’d concur similarly if gentlemen were placed in the galley…
3. You claim your chef poorly represents your appetites, yet you offer us no example of communicating your preferences, or replacing the chef. Your chef is accountable to you alone, and his expertise is at your command. Do not let him become autonomous, and use him like an instrument to fulfill your appetite.
4. You claim you were coerced into eating poor meals. I find this odd, given your claim that gentlemen are of ‘good character.’ Must they have an intrinsic motivation to finish their meals? Is the chef a tyrant, then, if you fail to communicate your displeasure with his products and fail to exercise your authority over his expertise?
5. Your foundational claim is that each gentleman is the most astute judge of his own appetites. However, gentlemen constantly grapple with their own wills, and seem to never make up their mind! Is it not true that gentlemen constantly deliberate between having venison, mutton, and quail for supper? Additionally, is this claim true for a galley, or a food hall? Since one man’s appetite cannot dictate another, the job of a well-trained chef is to prepare a well-balanced feast for banquets which fulfill the appetites of all gentlemen in attendance. If the goal of the culinary arts, if you so claim, is to fulfill a gentleman’s appetite, then surely the collective of gentlemen at a feast must be nurtured by a chef who soundly understands his constituents’ appetites.

Your most sincere and grateful friend,

Sir Epicure of East Cumbria