food

"It didn’t matter that you could hear his sweat spitting into his grumbling cauldrons and snapping skillets, his strange, almost sexual groans as he tossed the worms in the slithering grease, the nasty snarls of the dog who refused to move from her place by the stove and was covered in tiny burn marks. Obviously she considered any discomfort worth the chance to chase a random sliver of sausage through the air before it could reach the straw-strewn floor. The dog was as much addicted to the stuff as anyone else."

"There he got out the luncheon-basket and packed a simple meal, in which, remembering the stranger’s origin and preferences, he took care to include a yard of long French bread, a sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which lay down and cried, and a long-necked straw-covered flask wherein lay bottled sunshine shed and garnered on far Southern slopes."

"For the lank thighs, no thighs but skin, They are specked with spots like sausage-meat."

"The Chitterlings advanced so near that Pantagruel perceived that they stretched their arms and already began to charge their lances, which caused him to send Gymnast to know what they meant, and why they thus, without the least provocation, came to fall upon their old trusty friends, who had neither said nor done the least ill thing to them. Gymnast being advanced near their front, bowed very low, and said to them as loud as ever he could: We are friends, we are friends; all, all of us your friends, yours, and at your command; we are for Carnival, your old confederate. Some have since told me that he mistook, and said cavernal instead of carnival.Whatever it was, the word was no sooner out of his mouth but a huge little squab Sausage, starting out of the front of their main body, would have griped him by the collar. By the helmet of Mars, said Gymnast, I will swallow thee; but thou shalt only come in in chips and slices; for, big as thou art, thou couldst never come in whole. This spoke, he lugs out his trusty sword, Kiss-mine-arse (so he called it) with both his fists, and cut the Sausage in twain. Bless me, how fat the foul thief was! it puts me in mind of the huge bull of Berne, that was slain at Marignan when the drunken Swiss were so mauled there. Believe me, it had little less than four inches’ lard on its paunch.The Sausage’s job being done, a crowd of others flew upon Gymnast, and had most scurvily dragged him down when Pantagruel with his men came up to his relief. Then began the martial fray, higgledy-piggledy. Maul-chitterling did maul chitterlings; Cut-pudding did cut puddings; Pantagruel did break the Chitterlings at the knees; Friar John played at least in sight within his sow, viewing and observing all things; when the Pattipans that lay in ambuscade most furiously sallied out upon Pantagruel.Friar John, who lay snug all this while, by that time perceiving the rout and hurlyburly, set open the doors of his sow and sallied out with his merry Greeks, some of them armed with iron spits, others with andirons, racks, fire-shovels, frying-pans, kettles, grid-irons, oven forks, tongs, dripping pans, brooms, iron pots, mortars, pestles, all in battle array, like so many housebreakers, hallooing and roaring out all together most frightfully, Nabuzardan, Nabuzardan, Nabuzardan. Thus shouting and hooting they fought like dragons, and charged through the Pattipans and Sausages. The Chitterlings perceiving this fresh reinforcement, and that the others would be too hard for ‘em, betook themselves to their heels, scampering off with full speed, as if the devil had come for them. Friar John, with an iron crow, knocked them down as fast as hops; his men, too, were not sparing on their side. Oh, what a woeful sight it was! the field was all over strewed with heaps of dead or wounded Chitterlings; and history relates that had not heaven had a hand in it, the Chitterling tribe had been totally routed out of the world by the culinary champions. But there happened a wonderful thing, you may believe as little or as much of it as you please.From the north flew towards us a huge, fat, thick, grizzly swine, with long and large wings, like those of a windmill; its plumes red crimson, like those of a phenicoptere (which in Languedoc they call flaman); its eyes were red, and flaming like a carbuncle; its ears green, like a Prasin emerald; its teeth like a topaz; its tail long and black, like jet; its feet white, diaphanous and transparent like a diamond, somewhat broad, and of the splay kind, like those of geese, and as Queen Dick’s used to be at Toulouse in the days of yore. About its neck it wore a gold collar, round which were some Ionian characters, whereof I could pick out but two words, ΎΚΣ ἈΘΗΝΑΝ, hog-teaching Minerva.The sky was clear before; but at that monster’s appearance it changed so mightily for the worse that we were all amazed at it. As soon as the Chitterlings perceived the flying hog, down they all threw their weapons and fell on their knees, lifting up their hands joined together, without speaking one word, in a posture of adoration. Friar John and his party kept on mincing, felling, braining, mangling, and spitting the Chitterlings like mad; but Pantagruel sounded a retreat, and all hostility ceased.The monster having several times hovered backwards and forwards between the two armies, with a tail-shot voided above twenty-seven butts of mustard on the ground; then flew away through the air, crying all the while, Carnival, Carnival, Carnival."

"War without fire is worth nothing—like sausages without mustard."

"Grangousier was a good fellow in his time, and notable jester; he loved to drink neat, as much as any man that then was in the world, and would willingly eat salt meat. To this intent he was ordinarily well furnished with gammons of bacon, both of Westphalia, Mayence and Bayonne, with store of dried neat’s tongues, plenty of links, chitterlings and puddings in their season; together with salt beef and mustard, a good deal of hard roes of powdered mullet called botargos, great provision of sausages, not of Bolonia (for he feared the Lombard Boccone), but of Bigorre, Longaulnay, Brene, and Rouargue."

"That moment when you first slice through the thin, crisp skin and watch the dark, meaty oatmeal erupt from the gleaming black tube is a moment of worship. You could divine the future in those entrails."

"The slave pour’d sherbet to the brink, Stirr’d in wild honey and pomegranate, With snow and rose-leaves cool’d the drink, And bore it where the Caliph sate."

"Mahomet, chiefly prohibiteth in his Alcoran, the eating of Swines flesh, and drinking of Wine, which indeed the best sort do, but the baser kind are dayly drunkards: Their common drinke is Sherpet, composed of Water, Honey, and Sugar, which is exceeding delectable in the taste: And the usuall courtesie, they bestow on their friends, who visite them, is a Cup of Coffa, made of a kind of seed called Coava, and of a blackish colour; which they drinke so hote as possible they can, and is good to expell the crudity of raw meates, and hearbes, so much by them frequented. And those that cannot attaine to this liquor, must be contented with the cooling streames of water."

"The board was spread with fruits and wine, With grapes of gold, like those that shine On CASBIN hills;—pomegranates full Of melting sweetness, and the pears, And sunniest apples that CAUBUL In all its thousand gardens bears;— Plantains, the golden and the green, MALAYA’s nectared mangusteen; Prunes of BOCKHARA, and sweet nuts From the far groves of SAMARCAND, And BASRA dates, and apricots, Seed of the Sun, from IRAN’s land;— With rich conserve of Visna cherries, Of orange flowers, and of those berries That, wild and fresh, the young gazelles Feed on in ERAC’s rocky dells. All these in richest vases smile, In baskets of pure santal-wood, And urns of porcelain from that isle Sunk underneath the Indian flood, Whence oft the lucky diver brings Vases to grace the halls of kings. Wines too of every clime and hue Around their liquid lustre threw; Amber Rosolli,—the bright dew From vineyards of the Green-Sea gushing; And SHIRAZ wine that richly ran As if that jewel large and rare, The ruby for which KUBLAI-KHAN Melted within the goblets there!"

"And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep, In blanchèd linen, smooth, and lavender’d, While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd: With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon; Manna and dates, in argosy transferr’d From Fez; and spicèd dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar’d Lebanon."

"There were times we regretted The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces And the silken girls bringing sherbet."

"At early-2nd century B.C.E., the historian Posidonius (circa. 135 B.C.E. – 50 B.C.E.), ancient Greek philosopher, geographer, and historian. noted as a characteristic feature of Roman customs the great sobriety of meals. For a long time at that time the Hellenic cities of the East and of Greece itself had adopted a very elaborate cuisine! This spread slowly in Rome and not without a little resistance. (Pierre Grimal)"

"Emily Gowers The Loaded Table: Representations of Food in Roman Literature (Oxford University Press, C.E.1993)"

"Ambrose Theodosius Macrobius has preserved for us the menu of an official supper offered to some priests in the time of Caesar. Here are the details: at the beginning seafood, oysters, mussels, a thrush on a bed of asparagus, a boiled chicken, chestnuts and mussel, and oyster sauce. These foods were eaten as an appetizer and accompanied by sweet wine. Then followed the first course with other seafood, sea fish, woodcocks, wild boar fillets, bird and thrush pâté. The main course included sow udders, pig's head, fish stew, ducks, hare, roast poultry. Unfortunately we don't know what the dessert was. (Pierre Grimal)"

"The difference in taste between us and the Romans is even more serious than it might seem if we were deceived by apparent coincidences: like us, the Romans were fond of mushrooms, but cooked them with honey; they prized the beautiful peaches, but treated them as we do with marinated eels; They had a predilection for many of the fish that are still gladly seen on the table today, but they prepared them with certain concoctions, let's say, worrying, in which a little bit of everything entered, not excluding plums and crushed apricots and a purée of quinces. If someone twists his mouth, he is wrong. It must be remembered that while the Romans preferred fresh cheese, we put a good face on Gorgonzola cheese, while acknowledging and saying that it stinks: a cheese that is buggy, and that the more you pay for and appreciate, the more wisely it has been made to kiss. The Romans wrinkled their noses at the rancid boar; We seem to spoil it if you eat it fresh, and we cook it only when it is more than shortcrust and tastes like pureed meat. "It's the taste of game," you might say; "No, it smells like a corpse," a Roman would reply. Evidently, among the many proverbs that there are, the truest and most equanimous is the one that says that all tastes are tastes and tastes are not discussed. (Ugo Enrico Paoli)"

"The military physicians of the Roman Empire had planned the diet of legionnaires to be invincible against barbarians: cabbage against red meat, victory assured as with the magic potion of Asterix and Obelix. (Mario Pappagallo)"

"Gourmet and gourmand, exquisite luxury at the table and sinfully elegant banquets, actual or dubious refinement up to the use of emetics: these are these, thanks to Lucullus, Apicius and Petronius, the most frequent associations that come to mind when speaking of the "food" of the Romans. This, of course, has nothing to do with the daily diet of a large part of the population, which was extremely frugal and only rarely went beyond mere subsistence. (Karl-Wilhelm Weeber)"