At present, I myself do not know of any local witches or warlocks, but there are several people who seem to have an uncanny power over food.

since we must eat to live, we might as well do it with both grace and gusto.

Probably no strychnine has sent as many husbands into their graves as mealtime scolding has, and nothing has driven more men into the arms of other women as the sound of a shrill whine at table.

It is impossible to think of any good meal, no matter how plain or elegant, without soup or bread in it

In general, I think, human beings are happiest at table when they are very young, very much in love or very alone.

A complete lack of caution is perhaps one of the true signs of a real gourmet: he has no need for it, being filled as he is with a God-given and intelligently self-cultivated sense of gastronomical freedom.

It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one.