The Modern Epicure

Epicurus: not as much fun as you might think

An epicure, dining at Crewe

Found a rather large mouse in his stew.

Said the waiter, ‘Don’t shout,

And wave it about,

Or the rest will be wanting one, too!’

Epicurus was an ancient Greek philosopher who lived around 307 BC and invented a system of philosophy, handily known as Epicureanism, which put the pursuit of pleasure above all things. (You only get a system of philosophy named after you if you are a) an ancient Greek or b) a top philosopher like Hegel or Marx). Hurrah! I hear you say. Such fun! But, annoyingly, there’s a downside. Epicurus said, ‘By pleasure we mean the absence of pain in the body and of trouble in the soul.’ The absence of pain (aponia) leads to a state of tranquillity (ataraxia). So for anything delightful that you might care to do or imbibe, you have to consider first if it’s going to cause you any pain later. Since overeating and overdrinking will both undoubtedly do this, you can’t do them. Boo.

            Epicureans therefore led rather simple lives in which they prized friendship, learning and generally hanging about and being Zen about things. The idea has influenced many people over the centuries: Thomas Jefferson, for example, called himself an epicurean, although one wonders rather how making your hundreds of slaves plant lettuces and fruit trees for you exactly qualifies you to claim you're living the simple life. But today's food landscape is rather different from his, and even more so from Epicurus'. What would today’s epicurean eat, and what would she avoid?

1) Chillies are out, since you can’t eat anything that causes you pain. You might argue that they don’t cause you pain if you’re used to them, but if you’re a real epicure, you won’t ever have tried them – not worth the risk to your ataraxia. The same goes for any and all flavours generally considered ‘acquired tastes’, since the discomfort you experience the first time you eat them will outweigh the pleasures you might get later on. Remember, the balance is towards avoiding pain, not getting pleasure. So, no beer, oysters, olives &c. If you don’t think you’ll like it, you can’t eat it.

2) Anything that might give you food poisoning. It's too risky. Think like the Queen on her overseas trips. No salad or shellfish. Everything has to be cooked to within an inch of its life. Bye bye rare steak and sashimi.

3) Foods and drinks that might upset your ataraxia. This means no cheese before bedtime. If it makes you feel excited or gives you bad dreams, don’t eat it. Presumably this ban also includes other food-related pursuits that might make you angry or excited: using the self-service machines in Tesco, for example, or eating at Hooters. And if you feel guilty about eating it, it’s a definite no-no. Can’t have you lying awake at night, not being tranquil. Free-range only. Maybe even vegetarian or vegan. If you’re remotely troubled by what you eat, it has to go.

5) For the same reason, anything where you think: ‘How much? Bloody hell!’ when paying. Avoid the anger at all costs. No fancy restaurants for you.

What does this leave? Lentils, I guess. Bread (so long as no-one has been harmed in the process of making it, and so long as you haven’t gone all the way to Tesco’s to find it and they’ve sold out and you have to angrily buy rolls instead). Vegetables and fruit. Sounds OK actually. Wow, this life of pleasure sure is boring. Unfortunately, boredom didn’t count as pain, so you don’t really have an excuse to liven things up with that chilli sauce.

But then, one nice thing about Epicurus’ philosophy is that he said the people you eat food with are much more important than what you eat – and that’s fair enough, I reckon. Maybe I’ll give it a go after all.