One of the more memorable moments in the new Dorian Gray film (of which I did not approve*) is a scene where Dorian is partaking of tea and scones. As he sips his tea and slathers jam onto a scone, we are treated to flashbacks of his recent debauched activities. There is whipping and screaming and blood that is visually very like the strawberry jam that plays a central role in his seemingly innocent high tea.
In the three weeks or so since we watched the film, my friend T has consumed vast quantities of scones, with increasing desperation and disappointment. Why, he asks, when the scones themselves, weighted down with jam, are so decadent, are no orgies forthcoming?
I myself expect nothing of scones. Baked goods are fundamentally wholesome in any case, however hard they try. But I do sympathise.
I first encountered fondue as a child through Asterix in Switzerland. This was a mistake.I grew up under the impression that this
(click for larger image)
would lead inevitably to this
and maybe some of this.
Years later, when I finally encountered fondue in real life, it was something of an anticlimax. It was delicious, of course, and cheese is capable of a decadence that baked goods can only dream of. Still, it was bread and cheese. Where were my feisty Roman matrons? My nine year old self was severely displeased.
And this is why, I think, the frequent association of food and sex is not necessarily a great thing. Think of that nine year old. Think of T, sitting at home with a plate of scones, looking around him hopefully. It's harsh.
* I did approve of the kiss between Ben Chaplin and Ben Barnes, though. More Ben Chaplin, please.