Quotes About Food

Trussed chickens always look like sex-crime victims, pale and flabby and hogtied. It turns out that this goes double for trussed half-chickens.

If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is.

Skeletal remains show that plant-fed humans were a head shorter than meat-eating hunters, prone to anemia, infectious diseases, rotten teeth, and bone disorders.

But most of the rest of us opt for economy of effort. After all, just about anything tastes good after a hard day of hiking! Start simple, and look to other hikers for ideas. Do not, however, stare into their food pot like a hungry puppy. Be forewarned. Hikers will share advice, stories, and more advice. They will help you set up your tent, get your balky stove to light, and untangle your bear-bagging rope. They will not, as a general rule, share their food.

I sat down to a lavish meal of Irish stew, boiled salad with beets, celery, potatoes doused in cream sauce, haddock and rice, and a long cheeseboard piled with pungent varieties and tasty rolls. I ate with fiendish voraciousness, and slowly, my hunger subsided and my nerves calmed.

It near broke my heart to treat such a good piece of meat in such a way. Aye, Red said with feeling. I watched ye do it, and it near made me cry,too. Sophia laughed and hugged her father. When this is over,Mary will cook you an entire leg of mutton, perfectly roasted and seasoned. His eyes brightened. With mint sauce? Aye, Mary said, beaming.

Tryptophan: a chemical in turkey meat rumored to make you sleepy and careless. One of the many minefields in the landscape of the family Thanksgiving.

She asked, "Was that really your dinner—two hot dogs and a Krispy Kreme doughnut?" "Four doughnuts." "What does your cholesterol look like?" "I guess it's white like what they show in the commercials.

Die Entfremdung erscheint sowohl darin, daß mein Lebensmittel eines andern ist, daß das, was mein Wunsch, der unzugängliche Besitz eines andern ist, als daß jede Sache selbst ein andres als sie selbst, als daß meine Tätigkeit ein andres, als endlich – und das gilt auch für den Kapitalisten – daß überhaupt die unmenschliche Macht her[rscht].

I don't like jellyfish, they're not a fish, they're just a blob. They don't have eyes, fins or scales like a cod. They float about blind, stinging people in the seas, And no one eats jellyfish with chips and mushy peas. Get rid of 'em!

I had a coconut on the way, which was another first for me. A drink and food all in one. It didn't look like the normal coconuts you win at fairgrounds. There was no hair on it. I don't know if that's how they grow here or if it's that Brazilians hate hair on anything and they've waxed them.

Twas the night before Christmas—well, the late afternoon, in fact, but who could tell at the North Pole in the middle of winter—and Matthias the werewolf was knee-deep in reindeer guts. Really, it was the deer's own fault for having that glowing red nose that had made it ever so easy to pick him out in the gloom. There it had been, like a neon sign saying FAST FOOD and Matt being like Yellow Dog Dingo—always hungry—had taken the opportunity for a quick snack.

I suppose a better sister would have set about weaving him a shirt from nettles and throwing it over his furred-over body so that he could be released from his enchantment and resume his human form. I give him some cat food instead.

The eat part was easy. The praying and loving were harder.

Butter was plastered on to the roll with no regard for the hard labor of the cow

She was one of those girls who wasn't entirely convinced that food was necessary for survival - anything more robust than a strawberry yoghurt made her anxious.

Viola was a good reader, a bookworm—a phrase she hated. "How can a worm be a nice thing to be?" Viola said. I would be a worm, Nancy thought, if that was the only existence on offer, and then laughed at herself for having reached such a pass. "Without worms we wouldn't be able to grow food and everyone would starve," Nancy said reasonably.

Man's spirit grows hungry for art in the same way his stomach growls for food.

Beasts feed. Man eats. Only the man of intellect knows how to eat.

I am utterly against those confused Olios, into which men put almost all kinds of meats and Roots.

The corn that makes the holy bread By which the soul of man is fed, The holy bread, the food unpriced, Thy everlasting mercy, Christ.

Man and the animals are merely a passage and channel for food, a tomb for other animals, a haven for the dead, giving life by the death of others, a coffer full of corruption.

When a man is small, he loves and hates food with a ferocity which soon dims. At six years old his very bowels will heave when such a dish as creamed carrots or cold tapioca appear before him.

The unlimited capacity of the plant world to sustain man at his highest is a region as yet unexplored by modern science.