There is nothing like soup. It is by nature eccentric: no two are ever alike, unless of course you get your soup in a can.

And, for an unsurpassed double whammy, there is talking about eating while you are eating with friends.

We know that without food we would die. Without fellowship, life is not worth living.

There is really a je ne sais quoi about turkey cooking - the air of festivity, the family squabbles, the constant basting - that does not apply to the turkey breast, which is, really, a convenience of food... A turkey without seasonal angst is like a baseball game without a national anthem, a winter without snow, a birthday party without candles.

The table is a meeting place, a gathering ground, the source of sustenance and nourishment, festivity, safety, and satisfaction. A person cooking is a person giving: even the simplest food is a gift.

For the socially timid, the kitchen is the place to be. At least, it is a place to start.

I will never eat fish eyeballs, and I do not want to taste anything commonly kept as a house pet, but otherwise I am a cinch to feed.