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To abstain that we may enjoy is the epicurianism of reason. [Fr., L’abstenir pur jouir, c’est l’epicurisme de la raison.]
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To eat at another’s table is your ambition’s height. [Lat., Bona summa putes, aliena vivere quadra.]
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To eat well in England you should have breakfast three times a day.
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We have to get away from the ”bolt it and beat it” idea of eating
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We may live without poetry, music and art; We may live without conscience, and live without heart; We may live without friends; we may live without books; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books,–what is knowledge but grieving? He may live without hope,–what is hope but deceiving? He may live without love,–what is passion but pining? But where is the man that can live without dining?
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We must eat to live and live to eat.
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What baron or squire Or knight of the shire Lives half so well as a holy friar.
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What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
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What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air, Are daily ransack’d for the bill of fare. Blood stuffed in skins is British Christians’ food, And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.
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What, did you not know, then, that to-day Lucullus dines with Lucullus?
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When I demanded of my friend what viands he preferred, He quoth, ‘A large cold bottle, and a small hot bird!’
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When mighty roast beef was the Englishman’s food It ennobled our hearts and enriched our blood– Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good. Oh! the roast beef of England. And Old England’s roast beef.
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When the Sultan Shah-Zaman Goes to the city Ispahan, Even before he gets so far As the place where the clustered palm-trees are, At the last of the thirty palace-gates The pet of the harem, Rose-in-Bloom, Orders a feast in his favorite room– Glittering square of colored ice, Sweetened with syrup, tinctured with spice, Creams, and cordials, and sugared dates, Syrian apples, Othmanee quinces, Limes and citrons and apricots, And wines that are known to Eastern princes.
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When they were filled, he said unto his disciples, Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.
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Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the taste is the same? But the partridge is dearer, and therefore thought preferable.
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With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder.
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Ye diners out from whom we guard our spoons.
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Yet shall you have to rectify your palate, An olive, capers, or some better salad Ushering the mutton; with a short-legged hen, If we can get her, full of eggs, and then, Limons, and wine for sauce: to these a coney Is not to be despaired of for our money; And though fowl now be scarce, yet there are clerks, The sky not falling, think we may have larks.
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You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to dine, Sabellus, not to bathe.
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You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing.
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