Book 3, Chapter 14

On the occasion of a common dinner-party ¹ where some of the company would present themselves with a small, and others with a large supply of viands, Socrates would bid the servants ² throw the small supplies into the general stock, or else to help each of the party to a share all round. Thus the grand victuallers were ashamed in the one case not to share in the common stock, and in the other not to throw in their supplies also. ³ Accordingly in went the grand supplies into the common stock. And now, being no better off than the small contributors, they soon ceased to cater for expensive delicacies.

At a shared dinner party ¹, some guests brought a little food and others brought a lot. Socrates would tell the servants ² to add the smaller contributions to the common supply. Or he would tell them to give each guest a share of the smaller contributions. In the first case, those who had brought more were ashamed not to share in the common supply. In the second, they were ashamed not to add their own food to it. ³ So the larger contributions went into the common supply. The guests who brought more were now no better off than those who brought less. So they soon stopped providing expensive delicacies.

At a supper-party one member of the company, as Socrates chanced to note, had put aside the plain fare and was devoting himself to certain dainties. ⁴ A discussion was going on about names and definitions, and the proper applications of terms to things. ⁵ Whereupon Socrates, appealing to the company: "Can we explain why we call a man a 'dainty fellow'? What is the particular action to which the term applies? ⁶—since every one adds some dainty to his food when he can get it. ⁷ But we have not quite hit the definition yet, I think. Are we to be called dainty eaters because we like our bread buttered?" ⁸

At a dinner party, Socrates happened to notice that one guest had set aside the plain food and was eating only delicacies. ⁴ The guests were discussing names and definitions, and how terms should be applied to things. ⁵ So Socrates asked the company: "Can we explain why we call a man a 'dainty fellow'? What particular behavior does the term describe? ⁶ Everyone adds a delicacy to their food when they can get one. ⁷ But I don't think we have quite found the definition yet. Are we to be called dainty eaters because we like our bread buttered?" ⁸

No! hardly! (some member of the company replied).

No! Hardly! (someone in the group replied).

Soc. Well, but now suppose a man confine himself to eating venison or other dainty without any plain food at all, not as a matter of training, ⁹ but for the pleasure of it: has such a man earned the title? "The rest of the world would have a poor chance against him," ¹⁰ some one answered. "Or," interposed another, "what if the dainty dishes he devours are out of all proportion to the rest of his meal—what of him?" ¹¹

Soc. Well, suppose a man eats only venison or other delicacies, with no plain food at all. Suppose he does this not for training, ⁹ but for pleasure. Has he earned the title? "No one else would stand much chance against him," ¹⁰ someone answered. "Or," another interrupted, "what about a man who eats delicacies in huge amounts compared with the rest of his meal?" ¹¹

Soc. He has established a very fair title at any rate to the appellation, and when the rest of the world pray to heaven for a fine harvest: "May our corn and oil increase!" he may reasonably ejaculate, "May my fleshpots multiply!"

Soc. At any rate, he has certainly earned the title. The rest of the world prays to heaven for a good harvest: "May our grain and oil increase!" But he may reasonably cry, "May my pots of meat multiply!"

At this last sally the young man, feeling that the conversation set somewhat in his direction, did not desist indeed from his savoury viands, but helped himself generously to a piece of bread. Socrates was all-observant, and added: Keep an eye on our friend yonder, you others next him, and see fair play between the sop and the sauce. ¹²

At this last remark, the young man felt that the conversation was turning toward him. He did not stop eating the tasty dishes, but he also took a generous piece of bread. Socrates noticed everything and added: Those of you sitting next to our friend, keep an eye on him. Make sure he takes a fair share of bread with his sauce. ¹²

Another time, seeing one of the company using but one sop of bread ¹³ to test several savoury dishes, he remarked: Could there be a more extravagant style of cookery, or more murderous to the dainty dishes themselves, than this wholesale method of taking so many dishes together?—why, bless me, twenty different sorts of seasoning at one swoop! ¹⁴ First of all he mixes up actually more ingredients than the cook himself prescribes, which is extravagant; and secondly, he has the audacity to commingle what the chef holds incongruous, whereby if the cooks are right in their method he is wrong in his, and consequently the destroyer of their art. Now is it not ridiculous first to procure the greatest virtuosi to cook for us, and then without any claim to their skill to take and alter their procedure? But there is a worse thing in store for the bold man who habituates himself to eat a dozen dishes at once: when there are but few dishes served, out of pure habit he will feel himself half starved, whilst his neighbour, accustomed to send his sop down by help of a single relish, will feast merrily, be the dishes never so few.

Another time, he saw someone in the group using a single piece of bread ¹³ to sample several savory dishes. He remarked: Could any style of cooking be more extravagant, or more destructive to the dishes themselves, than eating so many together? Why, goodness, twenty different seasonings in one bite! ¹⁴ First, the man mixes more ingredients than the cook himself calls for, which is extravagant. Second, he has the nerve to combine things the chef believes do not go together. So if the cooks are right in their methods, he is wrong in his and is destroying their art. Isn’t it ridiculous to hire the greatest experts to cook for us, then change their work without having their skill? But something worse awaits the bold man who makes a habit of eating a dozen dishes at once. When only a few dishes are served, habit alone will make him feel half starved. Meanwhile, his neighbor, who is used to eating his bread with a single savory dish, will enjoy his meal, however few dishes are served.

He had a saying that {euokheisthai}, to "make good cheer," ¹⁵ was in Attic parlance a synonym for "eating," and the affix {eu} (the attributive "good") connoted the eating of such things as would not trouble soul or body, and were not far to seek or hard to find. So that to "make good cheer" in his vocabulary applied to a modest and well-ordered style of living. ¹⁶

He used to say that {euokheisthai}, meaning "to make good cheer," ¹⁵ was another word for "eating" in Attic speech. The prefix {eu}, meaning "good," suggested eating foods that would not trouble the soul or body and were easy to find. So, for him, "to make good cheer" meant living modestly and in an orderly way. ¹⁶