meat

"Really, we have just eaten a superb turkey. It was excellent, crammed with truffles up to its beak, tender as a fat pullet, plump as an ortolan, fragrant as a thrush. To be sure, we only left the bones."

"Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine? Or are fruits of Paradise Sweeter than those dainty pies Of venison? O generous food! Drest as though bold Robin Hood Would, with his Maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can."

"The bird, that’s fetcht from Phasis flood, Or choysest Hens of Affricke brood; These please our palats. And why these? Cause they can but seldome please. Whilst the Goose soe goodly white, And the drake yeeld noe delight, Though his wings conceited hewe Paint each feather, as if new. These for vulgar stomackes be, And relish not of raritye. But the pretious Scarus, sought In farthest clime; what e’re is bought With Shipwrackes toyle, ô, that is sweet, ’Cause the quicksands handseld it. The pretious Barbill, now groune rife, Is cloying meat. How stale is Wife? Deare Wife hath ne’re a handsome letter, Sweet Mistresse soundes a great deale better. Rose quakes at name of Cinnamon. Unles’t be rare, what’s thought upon?"

"Nort had chickens, I had cocks, Gamesome cocks, loud-crowing cocks; Mysie ducks, and Elspie drakes,— For a wee groat or a pound: We lost nae time wi’ gives and takes."

"Sweet Peggy round her car, sir, Has strings of ducks and geese, But the scores of hearts she slaughters By far outnumber these; While she among her poultry sits, Just like a turtle-dove, Well worth the cage, I do engage, Of the blooming god of Love! While she sits in the low-backed car, The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken That Peggy is pickin’, As she sits in the low-backed car."

"If thou didst feed on western plains of yore; Or waddle wide with flat and flabby feet Over some Cambrian mountain’s plashy moor; Or find in farmer’s yard a safe retreat From gypsy thieves, and foxes sly and fleet; If thy grey quills, by lawyer guided, trace Deeds big with ruin to some wretched race, Or love-sick poet’s sonnet, sad and sweet, Wailing the rigour of his lady fair; Or if, the drudge of housemaid’s daily toil, Cobwebs and dust thy pinions white besoil, Departed Goose! I neither know nor care. But this I know, that thou wert very fine, Season’d with sage and onions, and port wine."

"But when the long hours of Public are past And we meet with Champaign and a Chicken at last, May every fond Pleasure that hour endear, Be banish’d afar both Discretion and Fear, Forgetting or scorning the Airs of the Croud He may cease to be formal, and I to be proud, Till lost in the Joy, we confess that we live And he may be rude, and yet I may forgive."

"When the goose was on the table, huge and golden and running with gravy, it was not begun upon all at once. A sort of respectful wonderment had silenced every tongue. There were winks and nods, as everybody pointed it out to everybody. What a devilish fine fat beast it was! what legs! what a breast!"

".— Many creatures are endowed with a ready discernment to see what will turn to their own advantage and emolument; and often discover more sagacity than could be expected. Thus, my neighbour's poultry watch for wagons loaded with , and, running after them, pick up a number of grains which are shaken from the sheaves by the agitation of the carriages."

"The goose at Michaelmas is as famous in the mouths of the million, as the minced-pie at Christmas; but for those who eat with delicacy, it is by that time too full-grown. The true period when the goose is in its highest perfection, is when it has just acquired its full growth, and not begun to harden. If the March goose is insipid, the Michaelmas goose is rank; the fine time is between both, from the second week in June to the first in September."

"He escorted her to the enormous open fire of wood in front of which a row of once-feathered vertebrates were slowly revolving on a horizontal rod.“We return always to the old methods, mademoiselle,” said he. “Here in this kitchen we cook by electricity, by gas, by everything you wish, but for the volaille we return always to the old methods. Wood fire.”The intense heat halted Gracie. The master, however, august showman, walked right into it, seized an iron spoon fit for supping with the devil, and, having scooped up an immense spoonful of the fat which had dripped drop by drop from the roasting birds, poured it tenderly over them, and so again and again."

"The capon is above all other foules praised, for as much as it is easily digested."

"Like enough, you won’t be glad, When they come to hang you, lad: But bacon’s not the only thing That’s cured by hanging from a string."

"His Waistcoat and Trowsers were made of Pork Chops;—"

"LITIGATION, n. A machine which you go into as a pig and come out of as a sausage."

"Pippin: The salted pork is particularly good. Gimli [longingly]: Salted pork?"

"‘And you need not turn up your nose at the provender, Master Gimli,’ said Merry. ‘This is not orc-stuff, but man-food, as Treebeard calls it. Will you have wine or beer? There’s a barrel inside there – very passable. And this is first-rate salted pork. Or I can cut you some rashers of bacon and broil them, if you like. I am sorry there is no green stuff: the deliveries have been rather interrupted in the last few days! I cannot offer you anything to follow but butter and honey for your bread. Are you content?’‘Indeed yes,’ said Gimli. ‘The score is much reduced.’"

"‘Now with the sucking pig we’ll have —’‘Sucking pig?’ said Croxley. ‘We’ve got a firm of frozen-food specialists downstairs and if you think they can rustle up a deepfreeze sucking pig at the drop of a hat...’‘Listen Croxley, if I say I want sucking pig I mean I want sucking pig. And anyway they don’t rustle the sucking things. At least to the best of my knowledge they don’t. They snatch the little buggers from their mother’s teats and —’‘Yes, sir,’ said Croxley hurriedly, cutting short the terrible explanation he could see coming. ‘Sucking pigs it is.’‘No it isn’t. It’s one, one with an apple between its gums.’"

"He was a shrewd and sound Divine, Of loud Dissent the mortal terror; And when, by dint of page and line, He ’stablish’d Truth, or startled Error, The Baptist found him far too deep; The Deist sigh’d with saving sorrow; And the lean Levite went to sleep, And dream’d of tasting pork to-morrow."

"Ham is generally not half-soaked; as salt as brine, and hard as flint; and it would puzzle the stomach of an ostrich to digest it."

"TRICHNOSIS, n. The pig's reply to proponents of porcophagy.Moses Mendlessohn having fallen ill sent for a Christian physician, who at once diagnosed the philosopher's disorder as trichinosis, but tactfully gave it another name. "You need an immediate change of diet," he said; "you must eat six ounces of pork every other day.""Pork?" shrieked the patient—"pork? Nothing shall induce me to touch it!""Do you mean that?" the doctor gravely asked."I swear it!""Good!—then I will undertake to cure you.""

"PIG, n. An animal (Porcus omnivorus) closely allied to the human race by the splendor and vivacity of its appetite, which, however, is inferior in scope, for it sticks at pig."

"He hath forbidden you only carrion, and blood, and swineflesh, and that which hath been immolated to (the name of) any other than Allah. But he who is driven by necessity, neither craving nor transgressing, it is no sin for him. Lo! Allah is Forgiving, Merciful."

"They that sanctify themselves, and purify themselves in the gardens behind one tree in the midst, eating swine’s flesh, and the abomination, and the mouse, shall be consumed together, saith the LORD."

"And the swine, though he divide the hoof, and be clovenfooted, yet he cheweth not the cud; he is unclean to you."

"A magnificent turkey had just been taken off the spit, well-shaped, golden, done to a turn, and the odour from which was enough to tempt a saint."

"In half a quarter of a mile's length of , at one time, there shall be six hundred newly slaughtered en hanging up, and seven hundred sheep— but, the more the merrier— proof of prosperity. Hard by and Warwick Lane, you shall see the little children, inured to sights of brutality from their birth, trotting along the alleys, mingled with troops of horribly busy pigs, up to their ankles in blood— but it makes the young rascals hardy. Into the imperfect sewers of this overgrown city, you shall have the immense mass of corruption, engendered by these practices, lazily thrown out of sight, to rise, in poisonous gases, into your house at night, when your sleeping children will most readily absorb them, and to find its languid way, at last, into the river that you drink— but, the French are a frog-eating people who wear wooden shoes, and it's O the roast beef of England, my boy, the jolly old English roast beef!"

"On side-tables stand wholesome cold-meats, royal rounds of beef not wanting, with bread thinly sliced and buttered:"

"We concluded our Walk with a Glass of Burton-Ale, and a Slice of Hung-Beef."

"I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit."

"Give but an Englishman his whore and ease, Beef and a sea-coal fire, he's yours forever."

"When mighty Roast Beef was the Englishman’s Food, It ennobled our Veins and enriched our Blood, Our Soldiers were brave and our Courtiers were good. Oh the Roast Beef of Old England, And old English Roast Beef.But since we have learn’d from all-conquering France To eat their Ragouts as well as to dance, We are fed up with nothing but vain Complaisance. Oh the Roast Beef, &c.Our Fathers of old were robust, stout, and strong, And kept open House with good Cheer all Day long, Which made their plump Tenants rejoice in this song, Oh the Roast Beef, &c.But now we are dwindled, to what shall I name? A sneaking poor Race, half begotten—and tame, Who sully the Honours that once shone in Fame. Oh the Roast Beef, &c.When good Queen Elizabeth sat on the Throne, E’er Coffee, or Tea, and such Slip Slops were known, The World was in Terror, if e’er she did frown. Oh the Roast Beef, &c.In those Days, if Fleets did presume on the Main, They seldom, or never return’d back again, As witness the vaunting Armada of Spain. Oh the Roast Beef, &c.Oh then they had Stomachs to eat and to fight, And when Wrongs were a-cooking to do themselves right. But now we’re a—I cou’d—but good Night. Oh the Roast Beef of Old England, And old English Roast Beef."

"The English men understand almost better than any other people the art of properly roasting a joint, which is also not to be wondered at; because the art of cooking as practised by most English men does not extent much beyond roast beef and plum pudding."

"Roast beef and plum pudding are also held in superstitious veneration,"

"When mighty rost 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 Rost Beef of Old England, And Old England’s Rost Beef!Then, Britons, from all nice Dainties refrain, Which effeminate Italy, France, and Spain; And mighty Rost Beef shall command on the Main. Oh the Rost Beef, &c."

"Brent: I mean, there's chicken, uh, I like the fried element to it, big fan of fried. But then some kind of goop oozed out of it. Not a big fan of goop."

"Roger: They have chicken Kiev. The butter squirts everywhere."

"Archie/Wanda (recalling Russian words they know): Glasnost. Molotov. Blinis. Lenin. Pushkin. Chicken Kiev. Dostoyevsky. Roubles. Vladivostok."

"Galina "Red" Reznikov: All I wanted was to eat the chicken that is smarter than other chickens and to absorb its power. And make a nice Kiev."

"Galina "Red" Reznikov: No more processed chicken that looks like a hockey puck and tastes like … wet paper. Real chicken Kiev."

"Art: Where'd you learn to speak English so well?"

"Make cutlets de volaille for her. / Anything but cutlets de volaille! It's what chanteuses eat, cutlets de volaille."

"And, really, can one let chicken cutlets de volaille perish?"

": Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita"

": Arkady Averchenko. A woman in a restaurant"

"Question: What has feathers and glows in the dark? Answer: Chicken Kiev."

"Nor wander from your selves with Tom Abroad to beg your bacon,"

"These two did oftentimes do the two-backed beast together, joyfully rubbing and frotting their bacon 'gainst one another."

"For winning wolde I al his lust endure, And make me a feyned appetyt; And yet in bacon hadde I never delyt."

"For us the pig's the means, while bacon is the end Providing gustatory heights to which we can ascend."