Recipes

Recipes for food that can be served at book club meetings for The Interpretation of Dreams

When I wrote this ... the evening, I eat anchovies, olives, or other strongly salted foods,
I am thirsty at night, and therefore I wake.

Next morning she related the following dream: "Just think, I dreamt that Emil was one of the family, that he said 'papa' and 'mamma to you, and slept at our house, in the big room, like one of the boys.  Then mamma came into the the room and threw a handful of big bars of chocolate, wrapped in blue and green paper under our beds."  

My youngest daughter, at that time nineteen months old, vomited one morning, and was therefore kept without food one day.  During the night she was heard to call excitedly in her sleep: Anna F(r)eud, st'awbewy, wild st'awbewy, om'lette, pap!"    

 

My nephew, twenty-two months of age, had been instructed to congratulate me on my birthday, and to give me present of a small basket of cherries, which at that time of year were scarce, being hardly in season.  He seemed to find the task a difficult one, for he repeated again and again: " Cherries in it," and could not be induced to let the little basket go out of his hands.  But he knew how to indemnify himself.  He had, until then, been in the habit of telling his mother every morning that he had dreamt of the "white soldier," an officer of the guard in a white cloak, whom he had once admired in the street.  On the day after the sacrifice on my birthday he woke up joyfully with the announcement, which could have referred only to a dream: "He[r] man eaten all the cherries!"

 I want to give a supper, but I have nothing available except some smoked salmon.  I think I will go shopping, but I remember that it is Sunday afternoon, when all the shops are closed. I then try to ring up a few caterers, but my telephone is out of order.  Accordingly I have to renounce my desire to give a supper.

As a matter of fact, she wanted for a long time to eat a caviar sandwich every morning, but had grudged the expense.  Of course she could get caviar from her husband at once if she asked for it.  But she has, on the contrary, begged him not to give her any caviar, 

so that she might tease him about it a little longer.

I get this idea from Zola's Germinal,

in which some children are told to bring some dandelion salad with them.

A boy not yet four years of age relates the following dream:  He saw a large garnished dish, on which was a large joint of roast meat; and the joint was suddenly - not carved- 

but eaten up.  He did not see the person who ate it.

"Symbol. - I run a long knife under a cake as though to take a slice out of it.

"Interpretation. - My movement with the knife signifies 'working one's way  through.' ... The explanation of the basis of the symbolism is as follows: At table it devolves upon me now and again to cut and distribute a cake, a business which I perform with a long, flexible knife, and which necessitates a certain amount of care.  In particular, the neat extraction of the cut slices of cake presents a certain amount of difficulty; the knife must be carefully pushed under the slices in question (the slow 'working one's way through' in order to get to the bottom). But yet there is more symbolism in the picture.  The cake of the symbol was really a 'dobos-cake' - that is, a cake in which the knife has to cut through several layers (the levels of consciousness and thought).

A man, now thirty-five, relates a clearly remembered dream which he claims to have had when he was four years of age: The notary with whom his father's will was deposited - he had lost his father at age three - brought two large Emperor-pears, 

of which he was given one to eat.  The other lay on the windowsill of  the living-room.  

He woke with the conviction of the reality of what he had dreamt, and obstinately asked his mother to give him the second pear; it was, he said, still lying on the windowsill.  

His mother laughed at this.

As we distrusted the fare in Aquileia, we took some food with us to Goerz, and bought a bottle of the excellent Istrian wine in Aquileia; and while the little mail-steamer slowly traveled through the canale delle Mee and into the lonely expanse of lagoon in the direction of Grado, we had breakfast on deck in the highest spirits - we were the only passengers - and it tasted to us as few breakfasts have ever tasted.