Who's Afraid of Immanuel Kant?

Philosophers are noted for their exquisite parties—replete with red wine and raconteuring, Ferrero Rocher pyramids and reminiscences of Frank Ramsey. The tradition of the philosophical party goes back to Plato’s Symposium, with its eloquent speeches about love—an occasion recreated, more or less, at the reception of every philosophy colloquium.

Philosophers offer more than conversation, though: they cook. When he retired to Edinburgh in 1769, David Hume wrote to a friend:

I live still, and must for a twelvemonth, in my old House in James's Court, which is very chearful and even elegant, but too small to display my great Talent for Cookery, the Science to which I intend to addict the remaining Years of my Life; I have just now lying on the Table before me a Receipt for making Soupe à la Reine, copy'd with my own hand. For Beef and Cabbage (a charming Dish), and old Mutton and old Claret, no body excels me. I make also Sheep head Broth in a manner that Mr Keith speaks of it for eight days…