My Dinner with Gandhi
If you could have dinner with anyone who would it be?
It’s a cliche question that begs a cliche answer — an answer we craft to show the questioner how intelligent we are, how philosophical we are, how sophisticated we are, how cool we are, how woke we are, how really anything we are but what we actually are. Let alone with whom we’d truly want to have dinner.
So rather than answering honestly — that hot-ass barista you’ve had designs on for the past month or a weed dealer with the sticky icky and a far too exclusive client list — we select with great pretense the noblest person we can think of in politics, religion, or art. I call bullshit. You really think mealing down with Mother Teresa could be even half as entertaining as chowing with Charlie Manson? I’m not judging who’s the better person, just who’s the better conversationalist — and, most importantly, whose eating habits are most apt to align with my own.
Given that (and aside from the Manson pick), of all the people, contemporary or historical, who are consistently used to disingenuously answer this dream dinner question, there is one person who always ranks top five: Mahatma Mohandas Gandhi.
On paper (or screen) I can see why someone would think he’d be a good choice: he was a pacifist, an awe-inspiring social, political, and spiritual leader, he looked fabulous in white linen (a look pretty hard to pull off), and he was rockin’ that sexy bald look before it was in. I get it, the Mahatma ticks all the right boxes for a dream dinner.
Or does he…?
When it comes to an anti-colonial nationalist and political ethicist who employed nonviolent resistance to lead the successful campaign for India’s independence from British rule, and later inspired movements for civil rights and freedom across the world* Gandhi is without a doubt your man. But as a dinner companion…? There, I’m afraid he’d be a disappointment. Here are my five reasons why I would not have dinner with Mahatma Gandhi…
#1: Gandhi was a vegetarian.
You might say, “Wow, that’s great! I’m a vegetarian too, it’ll be easy picking a restaurant.” Whoa, not so fast there, veager beaver. We’re not talking Beyond burgers or Amy’s veggie loaf with mashed potatoes and gravy. Gandhi-brand vegetarianism and the “vegetarianism” you enjoy are two completely entirely different animals. Gandhi was hardcore Gandhi-vegan as his uninspiring, anti-culinary diet illustrates.
But if you still want to choose Gandhi for your dream dinner, allow me to show you what’s likely to be on the menu. These are the foods Gandhi was known to eat (though not all at the same time):
To kick things off, how about a before-dinner drink?
- Squash. Non-alcoholic, fruit juice syrup, and water beverage) — No martinis at your dinner. Gandhi stayed away from the liquor and stuck with what he termed “nonviolent drinks.” (I dunno, “squash” actually sounds pretty violent to me.)
Appetizers, anyone?
- Lauki. A light-tasting gourd)— plain and boiled. (NOTHIN’ appetizing about this appetizer.)
Now, onto the main course…
- Chapati. Unleavened flatbread whole-wheat flour mixed into dough with water and oil. (The “dough” sounds like the papier-mâché paste I used to make in grade school.)
- Brinjal. Eggplant— plain and boiled. (Parmesan is the only way I can eat this crap.)
- Radishes and beetroots. Plain and boiled. (These’re ingredients for a salad, not an entrée.)
- Brown rice with gruel. Again, plain and boiled. (Gruel?” I mean, do you even know what the fuck gruel is? It’s like the most unappetizing name for a food. Gruel. Eeeech.)
- Curd. To aid digestion. (Digest what?! Everything’s plain and boiled.)
And this brings me to the second reason dinner with Gandhi is a bad idea…
#2: Gandhi’s food is plain and boiled.
Not a goddamned thing is deep-fried, sautéed, or even prepared with a rub. No rub. Not a single rub in sight. Gandhi would snub rub. Now, you may be thinking that’s okay, because once those boiled radishes and curd hit the table, there’s always salt for flavoring, right? Wrong. Not at the Mahatma’s table. Gandhi refused to use salt. I mean, this cat hated salt so much that he actually held an anti-salt march — for twenty-four, non-sodium days. It was called, of all things, “The Salt March” and it was to protest the British tax on salt. So no, there will be no salt on the table at your Gandhi dinner.
This no-salt nonsense dovetails nicely into reason #3 dinner with Gandhi is destined to disappoint…
#3: Gandhi’s plate is political.
Okay, so let’s say you somehow make it through “dinner.” How about some dessert? Yeah, how about not? You’re having dinner with the guy who said: “I see death in chocolate.” Looks like that German chocolate cake, chocolate ice cream, or even Cocoa Puffs you were eye-balling to balance out the shitty meal you just didn’t eat are also on the verboten list. Oh, but it’s not just chocolate/cocoa that’s off the dessert menu. Gandhi also rejected sugar as a political statement against the labor conditions that facilitated the sugar industry’s growth.
Side note: Why is it that the people who make chocolate and sugar were all assholes, but the dudes making radishes and beetroots were perfect angels? Not only does politics may make strange bedfellows, apparently it also makes terrible tablefellows.
But all this assumes there will even be any food at all. This leads us to the fourth reason eating with Gandhi is going to suck…
#4: Gandhi was known for his fasting.
During his life, Gandhi took 17 fasts — his longest lasting was 21 days. You better hope that on the night of your dinner he’s not on a fast because unless you want to be rude to your dream diner date, you’ll just be drinking table water and calling it a day. (Then again, given that dreadful menu of his, you might actually be better off catching him on a fast day.) The point here being fasting is not conducive to the whole dining concept. In fact, I’d argue it’s antithetical to it. There are some things you must do when having dinner with another person and one of them is eat. The other, since you asked, is conversing. You’re stuck at the table (or bar) with this other person during the most awkward of intimate acts — putting edible matter into your mouth and swallowing it. Eventually, you’re going to have say something to the other person. Which brings me to the fifth, and final, reason dinner with Gandhi blows like the west wind…
#5: Gandhi was a bad conversationalist.
Gandhi really had a one-track mind when it came to his interests. He was passionate and focused. He walked his talk and lived his dream. So, unfortunately, he could get a little… preachy; more like lectures than conversations. So, if you’re going to have dinner with the Gandho, be prepared to discuss India’s independence. It was his raison d’être. Now, I will be the first one to say it is very important… or more precisely, was very important — from like, 1857 to 1947. But that was a century ago. Not the most prescient convo topic presently. (Although, it is common ground if you’re an American, so that’s good. Goddamn Limeys, always taking shit that ain’t theirs to take.) Imagine if you were breaking bread with Thomas Jefferson and throughout the entire meal he won’t shut up about the Declaration of Independence. I mean, he’s going on and on about it. Rehashing all the shit you already know. After a while you’re like, “Dude, I get it. It’s great— you don’t need to keep selling it. We got the documentaries, the movies, the musicals, the books, the framed art prints, the holiday, and the car sales. We know all about it — we’ve been living it for over 250 years now. Don’t you have something new you’re working on? Something different — more interesting?” Now just imagine that same thing but with Gandhi and you get my point. And even if you do somehow manage to steer the G-man away from the subject of independence, he’ll likely veer right into that a-salt-against-humanity march or some anti-chocolate propaganda. Again, all very important, but all very passé... and really bummer dinner talk.
Check, please!
I want to be perfectly clear: I have nothing against Gandhi personally or politically. I love the whole groovy non-violent thing he had going. He was one in a not-long-enough line of social, political, and spiritual pacifist leaders. He played a major role in India’s independence from Great Britain, and apparently, was quite the ladies' man. Respect, Mohandas G.
I’m only suggesting that for your dream person dinner, you might want to pick someone other than Gandhi. After all, it is a meal and because it’s a dream dinner, I assume you won’t have to pick up the check. So in that case, I say “Eat big or eat at home.”
When asked which person I’d most want to have dinner with, I always go with the BIG eaters. Henry VIII a.k.a. “Henry the Ate” (about 5,000 calories a day), Orson Welles (two steaks, three bowls of ice cream, a pint of Scotch), or even Babe Ruth (porterhouse steak, 18-egg omelet, potatoes, a quart of bourbon and ginger ale — and that was for breakfast).
There’s also Elvis. At the time of his death, the King of Rock ’n’ Dinner Rolls weighed in at 350 pounds — no doubt from his favorite restaurant’s 8000-calorie sandwiches made with an entire jar of peanut butter, a full jar of grape jelly, and a pound of bacon, all jammed into an entire hollowed out loaf of French bread. For an in-between-meal snack, the King enjoyed his famous peanut butter and banana sandwiches on white bread, fried in oil. Them’s eats!
Looking for a more classically historical dining companion? How about John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich? Johnny Boy loved eating so much that during his time with the Navy when he could not leave his desk, he created the sandwich to keep himself constantly fed. That’s right, this sonuvabitch invented the fucking sandwich. And who loves eating sandwiches (besides Elvis)? Oh, just the entire world for the past 265 years, that’s who. (Personally, I can imagine a world without iPhones but not one sans sandwiches. But that’s just me. I love eating.)
Any of these folks I’ve mentioned would make outstanding dream dinner guests. You’re guaranteed to be sated and free from boring conversation since your mouths will constantly be stuffed with food.
But of course, if you’d rather fast for dinner or gorge yourself on gourds while being lectured on the evils of salt, I know the perfect Mahatma for you. Dinner won’t be good, but everyone will definitely think better of you for it.
*Thank you, Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mahatma_Gandhi
Check out all the other pies I have my fingers in…
© 2022 M. K. Jackson
