Just in case you were wondering why I do philosophy like this….

I realize that there are ways in which this informal conversation—and by conversation, I mean monologue, although I do prefer conversation, and hope this starts some—in an imaginary Bistro is not the usual way to philosophize. The world of lectures and papers is a much more thorough way of doing philosophy. It includes careful, painstaking research and carefully reasoned conclusions. Philosophy is not one of the arts, nor is it literature, but is instead a science, a discipline of knowledge, intending to discover truth in a systematic, methodical, logical way.

However, you and I meeting here at the Philosophy Bistro is also philosophy.
In fact, it is most of the things I love about philosophy, and philosophy is something I love a great deal.

It is conversational, for starters.
Even when I have to invent conversations, or when I am talking to myself, it is still conversational. It is a discussion between us, not a defensible pronouncement for my discipline. The core of philosophy is dialectic, a logical argument, to be sure, but also grounded in talking across—arguing with, but also related to its cousin, dialogue. Ideas and words have their own lives, and have to be able to bounce across and others in order to come to life most fully. Not only does arguing sharpen our ideas, but the give and take also allows new ideas to pop up. Thinking is not really something that goes on just in our heads; it goes on between us as well. Trying to convey ideas in conversation is much messier than in a formal lecture or written paper, but it is also less sterile.
…and thinking together is so stimulating and so pleasant.

It creates a space, and a little gathering, which is the basis of most human interaction, including thinking. Conversation needs its place, interaction needs its place, quietness needs its place, dialectic needs its place—and what better place than a Bistro?
This is certainly not new: although we think of philosophers as solitary, a great deal of philosophy has been done in the beer halls and pubs of Heidelberg and Cambridge, as well as the cafés of Vienna and Paris—perhaps most of Sartre, actually. Locke’s Treatises grew out of dinner conversations, and were more fully in lively correspondences—the internet of the 1600s. A pleasant, welcoming place is the perfect place to discuss ideas—lecture halls are terribly sterile, and mountain tops terribly cold.

It also has food, and as all of my students know, I cannot talk about human existence without talking about food.
Food is about the senses, and about craft, and about ideas and plans—all philosophical. It is grounded in a historically specific tradition, and produced by and made sense of in the context of a culturally specific set of social practices. It involves the patterns of sharing and politeness. In those we have all we need to talk of human knowledge, human nature, and ethics, because our understanding of all of these grows out of our dinner tables.

It also has whimsy.
A great weakness of contemporary philosophy is that it can be deadly serious—not in the way most of the people who matter to me do it, but for many professionals. In part, there is a great fear of failing, or of being wrong, or of seeming foolish. However, these prevent some of the most important characters on the philosophical landscape—conjecture and hypothesis. Scientists know that failure teaches as much as success—maybe more, but academics are terribly afraid of being wrong.
I don’t need to fear that; after all, I am talking to a Toad, a Mouse, and a Penguin.
The Bistro is a whimsical, somewhat imaginary place, so the silliness is a given. I can play with outrageous ideas, and not be afraid of appearing foolish (not that I am never foolish, just that I am not afraid of it).
I have something better than either seriousness or irony: I have whimsy.

So while they may lack the rigour of academic philosophy, Dr Bear’s Entrées do have all the ingredients for artisan crafted, locally sourced, vegetarian & healthy, creative and innovative, playful and constantly changing attempt at coming closer to a little bit of truth.

…besides, it’s a lot more fun.