While many members of Canada's scientific community were outraged by the fact that $74 million will be diverted from the budget of the National Research Council to Canada's $800 million contribution to an international space station, the move is getting a lot of support from, all of places, Canada's pastry chefs. This unlikely situation was recently explained to me by Pierre Mouchoir, head chef at Toronto's luxurious Villa Bourgeoisie and President of the National Pastry Council.
"We must put as much money as we can into the project," he told me as I tried, in vain as it turned out, to peacefully eat my lunch, "and make sure that the first chef in space is a Canadian!"
"Why do we want to do that?" I asked. I didn't want to encourage him, but I realized that if I didn't let him talk, he would never go away.
"The possibilities for pure research are incredible!" Pierre replied, his grey eyes flashing dully. "Free of the influence of gravity, we can determine the precise nature and qualities of our ingredients: water, sugar, dough, fruit..."
"It sounds like you plan on making fruit pies."
"That's it. That's exactly what we plan on doing. But, we won't be making just any old dessert: in space, we will be able to make the perfect fruit pie!"
"Why? Won't the astronauts be eating already prepared food?"
"Of course! Look, do you go into space and make perfect metal spheres in zero gravity so the astronauts can play marbles? No! We'll be sending the pies back to earth to be analyzed. The least we hope to be able to accomplish is to apply the knowledge we gain in making better desserts for our customers; but, if we're lucky, we may finally find a solution to the apple versus cherry question. What a glorious achievement that would be! We cannot allow another country to beat us to it!"
"Do a lot of chefs feel this way?"
"Hundreds in Ontario alone."
"But, aren't you worried about the risks, especially after the Challenger disaster?"
"Well, some younger chefs who were eager, at first, to go into space, aren't nearly as enthusiastic about it now. But, for those of us who have - ahem - been around, space will always be the final frontier. After all, once you've catered a provincial Conservative Party convention, how many challenges are left?"
"Not many, I guess..."
"That's right. Of course, a chef who had cooked in space could write his own ticket..."
"His own meal ticket, one could say?"
"His own meal ticket, you might say. I prefer to think that we all want to go up into space for the adventure of it, but I can admit that there are other considerations for some."
"Do you think a pastry chef in space is a major concern of the government?"
"Actually, no. As far as I can tell, the Conservative government has a strange set of priorities."
"The government does?"
"That's right. So, the National Pastry Council is planning to march on Parliament Hill. We want to...sensitize the government to our concerns. I understand the centrepiece of the march is going to be a six foot high devil's food cake."
"In the shape of a rocket?"
"What else?"
"Look, Pierre, you seem sincere in your beliefs, but do we really need to spend $800 million to make better fruit pies?"
"The pursuit of knowledge is an important, worthwhile...umm..."
"Of course. I understand that. But, can a country with a million unemployed people, a deteriorating environment and Supermailboxes afford to participate in the pursuit of such...esoteric knowledge?"
"Can we afford not to? Canada is becoming a technological third world nation. If we don't keep up with the latest culinary innovations, our chefs won't be able to compete with chefs of other countries making even the simplest dishes!"
"Then, why not give the money to the National Research Council, whose research has wider, more practical applications? After all, we have no guarantee that we will get the spin-off benefits."
"Umm...well, you know what they say at the NRC..."
"No. What?"
"Easy come, easy go..."
