'Marxist-Fruedian Gastronomy for Beginners' is one of Ben Watsons terser works of the 1970’s.
Though full of his characteristic vitriolic attacks on “the repressed” and ”Christians”, it was in reality a sneaky underhand anti – duck propaganda tract aimed at luring its unsuspecting readers into eating duck, and thereby assisting Watson in his campaign of duckicide.
95% of the recipes collected in the pamphlet were duck, in fact such was Watsons slavish dedication in collecting every god forsaken duck recipe on the face of the earth into one source, the pamphlet is still considered a classic amongst French duck chefs today. Curiously though Watson does not eat duck himself, calling it “the blandest darned meat I ever tasted”.
What then, does Ben Watson eat? Let us take a little look at page 47 of “Marxist Fruedian Gastronomy for Beginners”
“Are you repressed? Got a libidinal problem? Are you a frenzied Christian masturbator? “No” I hear you cry. Then I, Ben Watson ask you. Why arnt you eating raw slugs?"
"Yes, You heard me, live…… raw……. fresh……slithering…”
“Raw slugs are delightfully chewy, and though best served in a bed of dead rats innards, are perfectly acceptable dining fare without any such accompaniment”
P47, Ben Watson, Marxist Freudian Gastronomy for Beginners, Socialist Looney Publications, 1975.
Over the years Watson has developed many slug breeding programmes to satisfy his “sexually mature palette”. His favourite, simply titled ‘slug racing’ involved talking a handful or so of raw live slugs and placing them in the centre of a large plate. The idea was that the slugs that made it to the edge of the plate first would be saved and selected for bigger and better things, whereas those slugs unable to master the new conditions of life on the plate would be eaten there and then. At the start of every race he would warn them, “You snooze – you lose”, but often though he would become exceedingly bored of the whole affair and simply slurp down the whole plate of slugs before they barely had chance to move.
Dead rats innards is a firm family favourite on the Watson family dining table to this day.
Ben Watson first ate dead rats innards at the age of 11.
Picture the scene if you can, a dimly ‘pilchard oil candle’ lit Victorian era basement, leaky water pipes perpetually dripping away, a six foot pile of empty pilchard tins, a makeshift mattress of old damp copies of ‘Fabian Socialist Weekly’, a dog eared poster of “Cliff Richard-Living Doll” turned blue green with mould stuck to the wall, a large desk stacked with his German language editions of Marx, Desade and Freud next to which sat his ever at the ready ‘phonettograph’. Across the floor were strewn a dozen or so rat traps, many of which had sprung and contained dead and decomposing rats.
In the centre of the room , like some prehistoric shrine, stood his very own fecal Joachim Boaz in the form of ‘Leniny Poo’ and ‘Marxy Poo’.
The smell was like a sewerage pipe had backed up in a fish mongers.
It was the great post war meat shortage of 1953, Constance had to reduce Watson pilchard rations to one tin every two days, Ben Watson was starving.
“Mummy I need meat! Or fish! Or some kind of animal protein! I’m starved!!” He shouted from behind the locked basement door.
Ben Watsons cries from behind the basement door were not audible to Constance, who sat entertaining a group of assembled aristocrats and Freemasons in the parlour.
“Ooohh I’m game for just about anything!” Constance smuttily replied to a rather disgusting proposition from the assembled dignitaries. She stood up and did a little solo charleston over to the Gramophone and put on her favourite dixieland Jazz 78’. She lifted up the hem of her skirt and started to roll down her stocking, the assembled men began to cheer and whistle as Constance began to strip off.
Watson heard the cheers down in the basement and sighed.
“It’s no darned good, no pilchards for Benny today…………..”
He glanced around the floor dejectedly and looked at the five or six dead rats, he really ought to remove them as Constance would receive half a farthing per tail at the local rats tail exchange, but he felt their presence added a certain ‘deliquiesence’ to the ambience of the basement.
His gaze shifted to a headline on an old copy of “Fabian Socialist Review” laying on the floor, it was an old WW2 propaganda piece from 1944.
“OFFAL AINT AWFUL!”
He picked up the paper and started to read.
“Its official! Guts make great stew."
"Government scientists today announced that animal offal, which is commonly discarded, is actually far more
nutrious than regular cuts of meat........”
He threw the paper to the floor, “What piffle” he muttered to himself, as he leant down to pull a dead rat
from its trap.
Wait a minute………hold up a second………perhaps……..perhaps………..perhaps he might rustle up a hearty little
goulash of dead rats innards for himself and the boys and save the day after all.
He took a shard of pilchard tin from the basement floor and sliced the rats bloated stomach open, then he stuck
his tongue out and gave the gave the exposed putrified rats guts a tentative lick.
There was no stopping him, he put his hand into the rats stomach and scooped out a good handful of putrified rats
innards and placed them in a dirty jam jar, the guts making a horrible ‘shlupping’ noise as they slid to the bottom
of the jar. Every rat in the basement got the same treatment and within a few minutes Ben Watson had three dirty
jam jars full of dead rats innards. He walked over to Leniny Poo and Marxy Poo.
Ben Watson – “I’ve got a little treat for us fellas…. We deserve it don’t we?”
Marxy Poo – “Ohh Yesss…….”
Leniny Poo – “Yesss................What have you got for us Benny??”
Watson stepped over to Leniny Poo and Marxy Poo and placed a jam jar of dead rats innards at their sides.
Ben Watson – “Gentlemen, might it be appropriate to suggest a toast?”
Marxy Poo – “Depends entirely on the quality of the beverage, in this case I think it entirely appropriate!”
Ben Watson (lifting his jam jar to his mouth and preparing to drink) - “Gentlemen TO SIGMUND FRUED,
without whom none of this would’ve been possible”
Leniny Poo “Ill drink to that!”
All – “To Sigmund Frued!”
They all took a hearty swig of dead rats innards.
Marxy Poo – “Mmmmm........................Stringy”
Leniny Poo – “Mmmmm........................Sinuey”
Marxy Poo – “……It’s warming and nutritious”
Leniny Poo – “Oh Benny………..with these dead rats innards you are really spoiling us!”
Watson went to reply, but broke the cardinal rule of social dining and spoke with food in his mouth, the rats
innards spilled from his mouth and onto his chin as he spluttered:
“NOTHING BUT THE BEST NOW I'M IN CHARGE!”