Perl Cookbook, 2nd Edition

Foreword

They say that it’s easy to get trapped by a metaphor. But some metaphors are so magnificent that you don’t mind getting trapped in them. Perhaps the cooking metaphor is one such, at least in this case. The only problem I have with it is a personal one—I feel a bit like Betty Crocker’s mother. The work in question is so monumental that anything I could say here would be either redundant or irrelevant.

However, that never stopped me before.

Cooking is perhaps the humblest of the arts; but to me humility is a strength, not a weakness. Great artists have always had to serve their artistic medium—great cooks just do so literally. And the more humble the medium, the more humble the artist must be in order to lift the medium beyond the mundane. Food and language are both humble media, consisting as they do of an overwhelming profusion of seemingly unrelated and unruly ingredients. And yet, in the hands of someone with a bit of creativity and discipline, things like potatoes, pasta, and Perl are the basis of works of art that “hit the spot” in a most satisfying way, not merely getting the job done, but doing so in a way that makes your journey through life a little more pleasant.

Cooking is also one of the oldest of the arts. Some modern artists would have you believe that so-called ephemeral art is a recent invention, but cooking has always been an ephemeral art. We can try to preserve our art, make it last a little longer, but even the food we bury with our pharoahs gets dug up ...