By Serge Kreutz
Humans are intelligent beings, and even though some are more intelligent than others (and more arrogant than others), once such simple ideas have been expressed, they become commonplace fairly quickly.
The idea of disconnecting sexual pleasure from procreation fits the scheme, though it can’t be singled out who came up with it first.
Even though our genes came up with the concept of sexual pleasure as a bait to ensure their propagation, we (humans in general) now have enough self-awareness to acknowledge sexual pleasure, minus procreation, as the primary sense-providing theme in our existence.
It’s time we apply the duality of motivation and function on our approach to food.
We are genetically programmed to seek out nutrition. Therefore, we all know what appetite for food is, just as we all know what sexual urges are.
Our cravings for food were invented by our genes as a method to supplies nutrition to a biological system that ensures the survival and procreation of our genes.
I am not my genes. I am not even my body. I am my mind. Yes, my mind only exists as long as my body functions. But I could replace each and every organ of my body, except for my brain, with an identically looking and identically working engineered spare part, and it would not change my mind.
My mind seeks out pleasures, sexually, and, to a lesser degree, culinarily. But I can dissociate the needs of my mind (pleasure) from the needs of my genes (procreation, nutrition).
What relevance does this have for my diet?
I have to separate the joy of eating from calorie intake.
Excess calorie intake is a burden and a handicap, just as excessive procreative results (children) are.
We have to separate the pleasure of something from the biological functions.
And that is what I do with food.
The pleasure of food is in the mouth (or in the palate, if you prefer a more refined English). The pleasure of food is not in the stomach, and not in the colon.
What are the practical implications of all of this?
I enjoy Bordeaux in my mouth, not in my intestine, and, for that matter, not in my blood stream (alcohol disturbs the clarity of my thoughts).
I enjoy eating. I enjoy tastes. Creamy. Sour. Bitter. Sweet.
I enjoy all these tastes passing my lips, in between my teeth, on the tongue and gums, along the palate. Even in the throat.
But that’s it. I do not have taste receptors past the throat. When food reaches the stomach, it’s just chime. And if I just swallow what pleases my mouth, this chime is full of irritants.
I differentiate between the food that pleases my mouth, and the food that I put into my stomach to support a healthy organism.
I have sex for my mind, and I take precautions that this will not lead to an infantry regiment of infants.
I eat for the pleasure of it, but I take precautions that I will not put on more weight than what leaves me reasonably attractive.
Because I need reasonable attractiveness for my sexual pursuits.
The throat is my internal immigration checkpoint for food. Food that is conducive to my health is allowed to pass my throat.
And food that is for pleasure, after having excited my taste buds, goes back the way it came.
After I enjoyed it in my mouth… I spit it out.
It’s so easy.
Easier than what the Romans did during food orgies with chicken feathers.
Gorgonzola and port. Spicy curries and heavy tea. Black Forest and strawberries with cream. Coffee and cognac. My endless appetite.
But for my stomach, just some basic healthy food.
This is the Serge Kreutz diet. Short and precise: after you tasted it, spit it, don’t shit it.