About A More Perfect Supper

Gouverneur Morris wrote the Preamble to the Constitution, drank good wine, pursued beautiful women, went trout fishing with George Washington, and spent enough time in Parisian society to develop firm opinions about dinner. He is largely forgotten today, perhaps because nobody can spell his first name and perhaps because history prefers its Founders embalmed in dignity. Morris would have been terrible at that.

His diaries bounce between revolution, diplomacy, dinners, theater, gossip and women with little concern for keeping the categories separate. Morris liked the good life and pursued it vigorously. When a Paris restaurant served him bad wine, he condemned it for posterity as “execrable.” The French monarchy was collapsing, mobs were in the streets, civilization itself appeared negotiable, but apparently there were still limits.

There is something to be said for the Morris approach. Life is short, dinner comes every night, and there is no prize waiting at the end for the person who used the least butter. Cook something good. Pour something better. Invite interesting people. Have dessert. Stay for another drink. Do something worthwhile tomorrow.

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Life, liberty & good food. And no execrable wine.