Alchemy

Imagine, a few thousand years ago, you were asked to make sense of the world. Where would you start? You wouldn't have the faintest idea of just how much you didn't know. And, if it was nearly Friday lunch and one of your agrarian chums had some fermented hops he was offering to share, you might just jot down a speculative piece about someone mighty who'd put the whole thing together in seven days. You might even put in a cautionary tale about the evils of knowledge just to ward off anyone who felt inclined to cast a critical eye over your work.

If you were a bit more conscientious about your job and also rather inspired, you might come up with a theory that everything is a combination of four elements - earth, air, fire and water - thereby starting the long journey to modern chemistry and also sort of inventing the Fantastic Four.

Over the centuries scientific method improved, becoming more methodical and structured, even if it was hindered at times by those who chose the simpler 'seven day creation' version of events. And a lot of those who helped establish chemistry as a scientific discipline were alchemists. To be frank, a lot of them had been sidetracked from pure scientific investigation is pursuit of the slightly less noble goals of immortality and the transformation of lead into gold. Of course, with our modern knowledge of supply and demand, we know just how quickly this would have devalued gold, thus making the whole ambition slightly pointless.

However, naive medieval quests not withstanding, the one alchemy that has always held some fascination for me is the one that does deliver results and that is the transformation of ingredients into an edible dish. I've met and lived with some people who were very talented in this respect but, for the most part, I've always needed to follow a recipe. And last week I found a new one for spaghetti bolognese, which was a huge success.

So today I made it for Dan and Abi. They prefer the one from the jar :-(